Finding Eden

by Camilla Beavers

  “Thank you, your highness,” she bows.

  “May I ask what your name is?”

  “My name? It's Lelaine, your majesty.”

  “It's nice to meet you Lelaine.”

  “It was nice meeting you as well, your majesty; I must get back to my duties. It has been a pleasure.”

  She smiles and bows to me. I smile back. I walk to the door and pick up the candelabra and hand it to her.

  “I hope we can talk again. I enjoyed speaking with you.”

  “Thank you, your majesty,” she says.

  A few minutes after Lelaine leaves, there's a light knock on my door. The pull tells me it's Sahariel. I open the door and let him in.

  “Hey,” I say.

  “How are you feeling today?”

  “Better now that I've been able to rest.” I say, “What's on the agenda for today? No more power hungry great-uncles I hope.”

  “No. We just have to go to the library and look up correct protocol and your duties for events and public activities.”

  “That sounds extremely boring.”

  “Yeah, well,” he says, “sometimes you have to do what you don't want to.”

  “Alright,” I say, “let me go wash up and get dressed. I will be out in a bit.”

  “I will wait for you.”

  I turn and walk into the washroom and quickly undress. I try to wash as quickly as possible. I feel like I lost the whole day. I feel like a bum. I jump out of the tub, dry off and dress in the first thing that I can find. I walk quickly to the door, passing a mirror on the way and finally see what I put on. It's a simple pale gold and cream colored dress. I smile with satisfaction, glad that I didn't put on some ungodly fancy dress.

  I walk out of the room and Sahariel is waiting in the hallway.

  “You're forgetting something.” He says.

  “I am?”

  He holds up a finger as if asking for a second. He walks into my room and then a few seconds later comes back out. He has the crown in his hands.

  “I have to wear that?” I ask, “Like, all the time?”

  “Well, you don't have to, but it is encouraged.”

  “Fine, fine,” I say, “at least my clothes aren't on backward or something this time. That would be bad.”

  “And probably very uncomfortable.”

  “Most likely.”

  I take the crown from him and place it gently on my head. I had forgotten how it felt to wear it, even though I had worn the crown, my crown, only the day before. It feels heavy.

  “Are you ready?” Sahariel asks. I nod, “Alright, follow me.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sahariel and I walk to the library together, and on the way people I have never met bow to me, acknowledging me. I smile and nod at them in response. But I'm not watching my feet, and despite my rise to queen-dom, my klutziness still has the better of me and I find myself about to take a face first dive into the floor.

  “Whoops,” Sahariel catches me, “are you okay?”

  He's caught my hand in his and his arms are almost wrapped around me in protection.

  “I'm alright,” I say. I regain my footing and I look up at him.

  I had never really noticed it before, but Sahariel and I touch a lot. Casual touches here and there, and as I hold onto his hand I can't help but notice how intimate the touch is.

  He looks into my eyes and doesn't move or let go of my hand. I can feel my sensitivity to him grow stronger. I can smell him; a careful mix of musk and something that can only be described as the forest. I can feel his heartbeat as it quickens and I watch as his pupils dilate and his eyes widen in a mixture of awe and another emotion I can't quite figure out. Fire burns through my mind fields, energizing the soil, and the brain lady begins sewing hope. But as quickly as it happens, though, Sahariel lets go of my hand, breaking part of the strong connection.

  Sahariel looks around, as if trying to look everywhere except at me. He sees a door at the end of the hallway and motions for me to follow him.

  “Ladies first,” he says.

  We walk into the library and I'm relieved to find it deserted. Not even the bookkeeper is there to see me. I take a deep breath and we walk into the depths of the library.

  Strongly aware of his presence, Sahariel and I thumb over books trying to find something that looks like a basic code of conduct book. Looking over a shelf, I find an old leather bound book.

  “Hey,” I say, “what about this?”

  “Hmm,” Sahariel says, “I think this is what we're looking for.”

  He cracks open the book and runs his finger down the table of contents.

  “It looks like this has a list of all the rituals and festivals that happen during the year.” Sahariel starts listing them off.

  “Okay,” he stops in the middle of the list, “we need to take care of something first.”

  “And what's that?”

  “I'm not going to read every book to you for the rest of eternity.”

  “You're not?” I try not to sound sad.

  “No,” he says, “you're going to have to learn your people’s language.”

  “Ugh.”

  Sahariel drags me into an abandoned corner of the library where they apparently keep all the books for the illiterate people. Which apparently isn't very many since the books are covered in dust and crack with age.

  I grab an especially old looking volume and blow off the cover. The dust clouds up around my face and I sneeze. There is an odd design on the front and the spine cracks as I open it. Inside are pages filled with repetitive designs.

  “Is this it?” I show the book to Sahariel.

  “Why, yes it is.”

  He opens the book to the very first page and I see the iridescent ink shimmer back at me like oil sitting on top of water.

  “So,” I say, “how do you pronounce everything?”

  “You don't.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well,” he says, “before our race mingled with the human race much, we only spoke through emotions. That's how everything was conveyed. Trade, debate, everything. But then once we began to fraternize with humans, realizing it would be a little hard to communicate with those who can't read emotions like we can, we began to integrate human languages into our own. This book was written before that time. It was a way to record our history. So when you're looking through the books here, you'll find that most of the earlier texts are written in this language.”

  “Makes sense,” I say, “it's like Latin. A beautiful but dead language used in the earliest of days.”

  Sahariel smiles at me. After a few moments, he gets up and stacks a couple of books. He then picks them up and begins to walk away.

  “Where are you going?” I ask.

  “I'm going to take these to the bookkeeper to let him know we are borrowing them,” he says, “we can't spend every day in here so you can learn a new language.”

  He walks away from me with the stack of books, and I'm in no hurry to follow. I sort of liked the idea of spending time in the library with Sahariel. I mill around the table for a little while until I hear loud voices from the front of the library.

  “Did you not hear me the first time?” A voice asks, “You’re not allowed to take books from the library. I don't care if the queen herself asks for them, it's not allowed.”

  I hear Sahariel sigh and I try not to laugh too loudly. I decide then to walk from the darkness so the bookkeeper could see me.

  “My queen!”

  “I don't suppose it would be too much trouble if I borrowed these books, would it?”

  I smile at the man.

  “No, of course not, take as many as you need.”

  “Thank you.”

  Sahariel picks up the books after the man records them and walks away. As we're walking out of the library, Sahariel mumbles.

  “What was that?” I ask.

  “Oh, nothing,” he says, “I just said 'not allowed my ass' is all. I can't believe he
actually tried to tell me that I couldn't take these. Pisses me off.”

  “Well,” I say after laughing, “at least I was there to save the day, right?”

  Sahariel sighs as we reach my bedroom door.

  “Alright, so I'm going to leave you here for a little while. I have some things I need to take care of. Like I said previously, if you need me, you know how to reach me. I will be here in a flash.”

  Sahariel smiles at me and walks away after handing me the books. I walk over to my bed and drop them on it, watching as they almost bounce off. I sigh and grab the language book. I frown at it.

  “Well,” I say, “this is not going to be fun. At all.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Sahariel walks into my room to find me lying on my stomach on my bed with three of the books we borrowed from the library over two weeks ago spread open. I guess I probably look rather insane.

  “Have you been at this all day?”

  “Yes sir,” I say, “I've been able to basically translate the first seven things in the book, but this eighth one is giving me a little bit of trouble.”

  “Hmm,” Sahariel says, “let me take a look at it.”

  He walks over and peers over my shoulder at the open page on the book and at my note book where I have chicken scratch covering a whole page, evidence of my trying to figure out what a word means.

  “How far along are you?”

  “Well,” I say, “If I can figure out what this word here means, and then I can figure out the rest of the blanks in the description.”

  “Alright, give me a second.”

  Sahariel studies the page for a few seconds then makes a sound that I can only think of as a mocking, smothered laugh.

  “What?”

  “Oh, nothing,” he says.

  “What does the word mean?”

  “It means, directly translated, 'mate.'”

  “Mate?”

  “Yes,” he says, “as in partner. Life partner.”

  “Oh,” I say, “there's a festival for that?”

  “Unfortunately, yes,” he says, “and before you ask, I have been to a few, but it was very awkward for me.”

  “Awkward?”

  He sighs.

  “Imagine being in a room with full of people that have found the love of their life, and you don't have yours.”

  “Yikes,” I say, “I guess that could be pretty awkward.”

  “Anyway,” he says, “how about you take a break from all of this and we go take a walk. Then maybe later you can put your knowledge to the test and you can be arbitrator. You word will be final.”

  “That sounds awfully formal,” I say.

  “That's because it is.”

  “Great.”

  “Come on,” he says, “stop sulking. You've been hiding away in your room all week. It's time for you to get outside. You haven't seen the gardens yet, have you?”

  “Gardens?”

  “Yeah. They're quite beautiful this time of year as well. Would you like to go see them with me?”

  I smile at him and nod in response. He offers his arm and I loop mine through his.

  Sahariel leads me through the castle which I still haven't learned my own way. He opens a set of French doors and I feel like I've been transported to a completely different place.

  “Wow,” I say, “this is amazing.”

  “I told you that didn't I?”

  “You did but, I don't know, I don't think words could have described this well enough. It's so amazing looking. How come you didn't tell me about this place before?”

  “I don't know,” he says, “I guess it's because there have just been a lot of things going on that it just slipped my mind.”

  “Speaking of which,” I say, “where have you been all week?”

  “Oh,” he says, “I've just had some personal matters I've had to take care of.”

  “Like?”

  “Personal?”

  “Oh,” I say, “right.”

  Sahariel and I walk around a little while in silence, and I can't help but wonder what he's thinking, like I always am. I can never tell what he's thinking or what he's feeling, and it's a little unnerving. I've been seeing emotions for so long that not being able to see one person’s is like having my sense of touch taken away.

  Looking up into the sky, Sahariel see's something that I don't and tells me it's time for the oh-so-special meeting that I have to look over.

  Sahariel walks with me to a grand room, the same room that I stole my family member’s emotions away. There is a very elegant throne at the head of the room, and a red carpet, literally, leading up to it. There are a few people milling around before the meeting, and they stop and bow, but continue to whisper to themselves. Sahariel tells me to sit on the thrown and soon enough people start to slowly stream in.

  Pretty soon the room is full of people and I'm nervous. I can hear whispers, and whether or not they're about me, I start to feel paranoid.

  “I can't do this,” I say to Sahariel and start to get up from my seat.

  “Yes, you can,” he grabs my arm and pushes me down.

  “Uhg,” I grumble, “I think I'm going to be sick.”

  I lean back against the chair and rub my temples. My being sick wasn't a complete lie. I hadn't been in a room with this many people in it in a while and the colors were starting to hurt, even though they were more muted then they had ever been in the human world.

  Over the next couple of hours my people stood in front of me and explained why they were there. Simple, petty reasons brought these people to stand in front of me and bicker. After several groups, I was on my last nerve, and I knew Sahariel could feel it.

  “Please stay calm,” Sahariel says, “there is only one more.”

  I take a deep breath, “Okay.”

  In front of me stands a man who, without knowing him, I automatically do not like. He stands in front of me like the world owes him a favor for being born, as if he's the greatest thing that's ever lived, and next to him stands a small child.

  The child is probably five or six years old, and for being in such a beautiful kingdom, is dressed so shabby, is so skinny, that I can't believe they're in my kingdom. The little boy stands in front of me, stiff as a board, his fists balled at his sides, his face clean despite the dirt on his clothes. I frown at them both.

  “I caught this child stealing from my store,” the man says.

  The child winces as the man points his finger at him and practically shouts.

  “Is this true?” I ask the little boy.

  “Yes, ma'am,” the boy says.

  “And why would you steal from him?”

  “Probably because he's a no-good degenerate,” the man says.

  “I wasn't speaking to you,” I glare at the man, then I speak to the little boy again, “why did you steal from this man?”

  The little boy looks up at me and I just smile at him.

  “I was hungry,” the boy says sheepishly.

  “You were hungry?”

  “Yes, ma'am.”

  “Do you not have food at home?” I ask the little boy.

  “I don't have a home.”

  “You don't have a home?” I ask.

  “No, ma'am.”

  The man scoffs and I glare at him again but I don't turn away immediately. I stare him down.

  “You knew, didn't you?”

  “Excuse me, your majesty?” The man says.

  “You knew this boy didn't have a home, didn't you?”

  “Well, he probably does. I wouldn't believe a word he says. He's a trouble maker, constantly stealing from me and the other store owners. He's just a menace. It's that simple.”

  “No,” I say, “it's not 'that simple' when it comes to things like this. People don't steal because they want to make trouble, especially if it's food. No one steals food for fun.”

  I turn back to the small boy in front of me and I proclaim the first thing that comes to my mind.

  “This boy, a
lthough guilty of stealing, will not be charged or penalized. He will, however, become a ward of this castle, and shall live here under my protection.”

  Then the whispers flared, most of them probably questioning my sanity. I can feel Sahariel's eyes on me, but I don't look at him, I only look at the little boy in front of me who tries to hide the tears that are slowly going down his face.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Are you sure that was a good idea?” Sahariel asks me.

  “He didn't have a home,” I say as I look at Tobi. Cleaned up and well fed, though, he looked nothing like the boy I took in just over a week ago.

  “I understand that.”

  “Speaking of which,” I turn toward Sahariel, “why is it that he didn't have a home? It seems odd that in this kingdom a child wouldn't have had one.”

  “We've had some trying times.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Sahariel frowns and excuses us from the room. I don't know what he's thinking or feeling, but I get the feeling that it can't be good.

  Sahariel takes a deep breath, but it looks as if that's not enough.

  “I'm sorry I didn't tell you before.”

  “Tell me what?”

  He stops in the middle of the hall, like he's seeing me for the first time, a heartbreaking expression on his face, as if uttering the words themselves give him no pleasure.

  “We are on the brink of war, Eden,” he says.

  I say nothing at first. I can't say anything; I can't even breathe.

  “I don't understand,” I say, “what do you mean we're at war?”

  “Just as it sounds, my Lady.” He says, “Just like any other kingdom, we have enemies, enemies whose only goal is to destroy us; to destroy you.”

  “You told me my life was in danger because someone assassinated my grandfather. I thought that was the only thing going on.”

  “Your life is still in danger, but we still haven't figured out who is targeting you, whether it's the enemy or someone else.”

  “How could you not know?”

  “When someone assassinates someone during war time, it's difficult to find out who it is, simply because both a coupe from within and a war from outside both have the same goal. They want the destroy. Killing the royal family is common place when it comes to war, so why should we assume it's not the enemy?”