Crown of Coral and Pearl

by Mara Rutherford

  Twice more I faltered, and Grig’s hand was there to steady me. When I was queen, I would see to it that Grig got some sort of promotion.

  Finally, when my muscles were shaky with fatigue, the stairs leveled off and I found myself on a wide platform. “Who built this?” I asked Grig. He at least had the decency to appear winded.

  “The entrance to the castle is the mouth of a cavern. Princess Ilara’s brother, King Maldon, built the walls.”

  An iron door as tall as five men standing on top of one another loomed above us. A guard called out, and a smaller door swung in, admitting the guards one by one.

  The cavern inside was massive. The ceilings soared so high above us, I half expected to see clouds. But someone had polished the stone ceiling until it was as smooth as the inside of a seashell, then painted it with elaborate scenes in reds and blues, cream and gold. There were multiple fireplaces along the sides of the hall and lanterns hanging from the ceiling high above.

  Beneath my feet, the floor was made from the same dark gray stone as the mountain, and its polished surface helped reflect the glow of light from above. At the far end of the room—if one could even call it such—sat a throne carved from the dark stone. It was tall and wide enough for two men, the stone cut and polished in a way that made the facets shine like black jewels. I had imagined a throne before, but it was nothing like this thing jutting from the floor, as dark and imposing as the mountain itself.

  It was also empty.

  I turned to Ebb. “Where is the king?”

  “We’ll meet him in his chambers, once you’ve had a bath and a chance to change.”

  I’d never been so excited about the prospect of bathing in my life. I followed Ebb across the room to one of the many corridors that split off from it, taking care with my steps, as the floor was slippery and my shoes provided hardly any traction.

  As soon as we entered the corridor, I realized how dark it was in the castle. Yes, it was nighttime, but I hadn’t spotted a single window yet. The ones I’d seen from outside must be for lookouts. Here, the only light came from a few flameless torches, the ends wrapped in what appeared to be some kind of algae. It glowed pale blue, like a maiden’s hair jellyfish.

  “What is it?” I asked, pausing to get a closer look. The light was as bright as blue flame, but there was no heat.

  “Lunar moss, from the forest,” Ebb said. “It glows when the moon is up. It works best on a night like tonight, when the moon is almost full. Servants harvest it once a month for the torches.”

  “And when there is no moon?” I asked.

  “We use a fungus called foxfire, but it doesn’t give off quite as much light as the lunar moss.”

  I shuddered at the thought of even less light. “What about the daytime? Aren’t there windows?”

  “In the places with adequate ventilation, like the great hall, there are fires. No windows, I’m afraid. It does tend to get a bit darker as you go farther into the mountain, but your eyes will adjust.”

  Without fire, it wasn’t just dark; it was cold. The heat of my exertion during the climb had left me, so I wrapped my arms around myself and followed Ebb.

  “Ah, here we are.” She paused in front of a door where a guard stood watch. He opened it silently at our approach and stepped aside to let us enter.

  Inside was another smaller corridor with several doors leading off from it. She turned down another hall. “Here are your chambers.”

  Ebb led me into the large room, its ceiling polished and painted like the one in the great hall. Tapestries and rugs covered the stone surfaces, adding a small amount of warmth. An enormous bed sat in the center, piled high with blankets and fur throws.

  The only other furniture was a large wooden wardrobe, with doors carved into strange swirling shapes. For a room that was roughly the size of the governor’s house, it was surprisingly bare. Then again, this wasn’t someone’s house; it was merely a place to sleep.

  A bath had been prepared in a stone tub carved out of the wall. A folding screen of painted silk stood next to it.

  “Now then, shall we get you bathed and changed?” Ebb asked. “I’ll have a light supper brought, so that you can eat while I fix your hair. It’s very late, and the king will want to get his rest.”

  I felt the same way. My eyelids were heavy, and my muscles ached from the climb. “What about the prince? Will I meet him tonight?”

  “I don’t believe so. But I’m sure he’ll be here tomorrow.”

  That was a relief, at least. I undressed behind the screen and climbed into the stone tub before the cold air had a chance to seep in. This was my first hot bath ever, and after so many days without washing, it felt wonderful. My aching muscles immediately began to relax. Ebb undid my braids and washed my hair with some kind of perfumed soap that lathered and foamed, then rinsed it all out with more warm water. I began to worry the water might rinse the stain from my cheek, but Ebb didn’t seem to notice anything amiss.

  I could have stayed in the bath forever, but Ebb’s clipped movements reminded me we were in a hurry. I climbed out and immediately regretted it when the cold air hit my bare skin.

  Ebb handed me a towel, then walked to the wardrobe and opened the doors. “Now, milady, you’ll need to choose your gown quickly. I believe this one is appropriate for the occasion, but there’s also—”

  “You choose,” I said, sensing her urgency. “I trust you.”

  As promised, a light repast sat on a small table to the side of a stool, where I perched so Ebb could get to work on my hair. I nibbled on some kind of dark bread and a creamy cheese with figs, but I was too anxious to eat more than a few bites. Ebb began to coil my hair, twisting and pinning with a deftness I hadn’t expected. Despite her efficiency, she was much gentler than Zadie, and she left half of my hair down, which was a nice rest for my scalp.

  After, she helped me into a dark blue gown embroidered with threads of gold. I had grown used to the subdued clothing, though I still didn’t like it, but I admired the way the metallic threads shimmered in the light from the lunar moss set into small lamps in the wall.

  When Ebb left to change as well, I opened my trunk from home, which a servant had delivered while I was dressing. I pulled out the little jar of stain for my scar and approached the large standing mirror slowly. I’d seen my reflection in the hand mirror in the carriage, but I hadn’t seen all of me at once. Not in my entire life, now that I thought about it. I wasn’t sure I was ready for this.

  But before I could stop myself, there I was. Or at least a version of me, unlike anything I’d ever imagined. Who was this girl with the stilt-straight posture and neatly styled hair? The fabric of the gown was richer than all the others I’d worn, and I ran my hands across the flat plane of my stomach and the curves of my hips, accentuated by the corset.

  Even my face was that of a stranger. My cheekbones appeared more pronounced, though that could just be the shadows in the dark room playing tricks on me, and the way Ebb had pinned up my hair made my neck seem long and graceful. I looked a little like my mother, I realized, with her golden eyes and proud mouth.

  The scar was still covered by the stain, but I reapplied it anyway. Without the mark on my cheek, I could almost pretend I really was Zadie.

  “What do I do?” I asked my reflection, as though my sister were there with me.

  Square your shoulders, I imagined her saying. Chin up. The elders wouldn’t have chosen us if they didn’t believe we could do this.

  I heard the door open behind me. I turned to Ebb, my heart suddenly beating faster. This was it. I was going to meet the king.

  “You look lovely, milady,” she said, handing me a short capelet made of the softest black fur. “It’s cold in the corridors, milady. This will help keep you warm. Are you ready?”

  I nodded and strode past her down the corridor, as though I’d been born to do this. In
my mind, Zadie walked just behind me, assuring me I had.

  * * *

  Our company grew as we walked to the king’s chambers, far from the great hall. I noticed Grig and the captain fall into line behind us, and multiple servants seemed to appear out of nowhere, wearing dark, nondescript clothing under shawls and gloves woven from some kind of animal fiber. We came to a stop at a pair of tall stone doors painstakingly carved with horned beasts and roses, reminding me of the little button Sami had traded for. Zadie and Sami had insisted I take the traveling cloak with me, since Zadie wouldn’t need it in Varenia, but I’d never taken it out of the trunk during our journey. Now that I’d seen Ebb toss aside entire outfits like they were refuse, I realized how little value a single brass button would have to these people. I wondered how many pearls Sami had sacrificed for it.

  The moment the doors opened, I was hit with the sickly sweet smell of illness, like a bin of rotting fruit at the floating market. Someone had gone through a good deal of trouble to try to hide the odor with perfumed incense, and the combination of smells was nearly overpowering. Several ladies stood near the king’s bed with little sachets pressed to their noses.

  I’d thought my bed was large, but King Xyrus’s bed was twice the size of it, made larger by the skeletal man who sat propped up against a stack of pillows. He was so pale he nearly faded into the white linens surrounding him. His gray beard was long and straggly, matching the few tufts of hair left on his liver-spotted head. He looked ancient, older than the oldest Varenian elder. This man couldn’t possibly be the same age as my father.

  I was led forward by Captain Osius, who stopped to kneel before the king. I imitated the ladies around me, wishing I’d practiced more back home, but curtsying as deeply as I dared without falling over.

  The king’s watery eyes blinked open at the sound of the captain’s voice. “Your Grace, pardon the late hour. We have brought a special visitor from Varenia.”

  With the help of a nobleman, the king sat up a bit straighter, smacking his lips like a child who’d just woken from a long nap. “Ah yes, Zadie. Welcome to Ilara, my dear.”

  I blinked at the sound of my sister’s name on an Ilarean tongue, the z sounding almost like an s. No one here had called me anything but milady thus far, and it was a good reminder that I was supposed to be my sister.

  I stepped forward and took the king’s outstretched hand, doing my best to breathe through my mouth. I nearly jumped when he started to cough suddenly and violently, his entire withered frame shaking from the effort, and released his bony hand as gently as possible. How could this be the man controlling the Varenians? If the governor knew about the king’s condition, why didn’t he stand up to him? And if he didn’t know, I would make sure Sami passed along the information, if I ever made it to the port market.

  I waited patiently for the king to sip his wine, sloshing some of the dark red liquid onto the white bedclothes. I expected him to speak again when he finished, but he settled back down among his pillows and closed his eyes.

  The nobleman assisting him stepped forward and kissed my hand before lowering himself in an exaggerated bow. After that, one by one, the other lords and ladies stepped forward, each offering their services and welcoming me to Ilara. The ladies, dressed in gowns made of various shadowy fabrics adorned with beads and bows, fussed over me and noted how well I looked after such an arduous journey. The lords were dressed similarly to Talin when he’d visited Ilara, but none had his air of warmth and vitality.

  Prince Talin, I reminded myself. My future husband’s brother.

  Some of the lords and ladies were pale, like Ebb, probably from spending so much time in this dark mountain. But even those who weren’t naturally fair-skinned looked wan and tired. I noticed a few people had used some sort of white powder to make their hair lighter. I’d never felt so alone in my life as I did there in that chamber, surrounded by all these otherworldly strangers.

  Finally, when I was sure I would faint from exhaustion, Ebb found me and whispered in my ear that we should retire for the evening. Back in my chamber, she helped me undress for the night and prepare for my first real rest in days. The bed was so tall, a small footstool had been provided to help me climb in. Once among the blankets and throws, I felt ridiculous. Why would one person need so much space to sleep?

  Ebb went to the door and curtsied. “I’ll leave you now, milady.”

  I glanced around the massive room, only now realizing there was no other place to sleep. “You’re not staying?”

  She seemed surprised for a moment, then smiled. “It’s not proper for a servant to sleep in this part of the castle, milady. There’s a bell on your nightstand. If you need anything, just ring, and one of the guards will alert me.”

  I should have known a servant wouldn’t sleep with a future princess, but I’d never slept alone before. I was coming to think of Ebb as a friend, when I needed to remember that this was her job, nothing more. Still, I couldn’t deny how grateful I was to have her here. “Thank you, Ebb. For everything.”

  She blushed and curtsied before slipping out the door. There was no fireplace here, presumably because there was nowhere for the smoke to escape, which explained all the blankets. The only light in the room came from the lunar moss. I burrowed down in my covers, feeling like an eel poking its head out of a grotto.

  I must have fallen asleep without realizing it, because I woke up some time later thinking I was drowning, flailing in the sheets as though they were a fishing net. I kicked the blankets away from me until they lay piled on the floor. Now it was just me in a nightdress on top of the giant feather mattress. And I was freezing.

  I pulled one of the fur throws off the floor and wrapped myself in it, feeling even more pitiful than I had in the carriage. The room was somehow cold and stuffy at the same time, the bed was far too soft, and it was too quiet without the soft breathing of my sister and the faint snoring from my father across the house.

  My little trunk had been placed at the foot of my bed, and I scooted over to it, still wrapped in the blanket. As I lifted the lid, I was hit with the briny scent of the ocean, and the throb of homesickness was so intense my eyes filled with tears. I tucked my few pieces of clothing inside the wardrobe. The coral knife and pearl necklace went in my nightstand.

  Sensing Ebb’s exhaustion earlier, I’d let her go without undoing my hair, but I wasn’t used to sleeping with pins in it. I went to the full-length mirror and sat down cross-legged before it, feeling ridiculous in my nightgown with the voluminous sleeves and lace-edged neckline. I set to work unpinning my hair, then massaged my scalp with my fingers the way Zadie would have done had she been here.

  With my hair in wild waves around me and the soft blue light of the lunar moss reflecting off my skin, I looked like the sea witch from the stories Sami used to tell us. According to Varenian legend, she lived deep in the ocean, causing storms that sank ships and drowned sailors, whom the witch took as her lovers. The stories were violent and inappropriate for children, which made us delight in them all the more. Mother would have been appalled if she’d ever caught us; she believed only the gods had the power to cause storms and sink ships.

  I gathered my hair around me and crawled back to the pile of discarded blankets on the floor, which felt a little closer to my straw mattress from home. I pulled a wayward throw up to my chin and cried myself to sleep.

  13

  I was woken by a shriek, followed by the sounds of the door being flung open and an armed guard forcing himself into the room.

  “Milady, are you hurt?” the guard asked.

  I sat up, blinking in the gloom, and rubbed my eyes. Ebb stood in front of me, a freshly laundered pile of linens in a heap at her feet, her hands covering her mouth. The guard stood behind her, one hand on the hilt of his sword, his mouth slightly agape.

  “What is it?”

  “I’m sorry, milady. It frightened me t
o see you in such a state.”

  I turned around and caught sight of myself in the mirror. It was worse than I’d feared. My nearly waist-length hair was everywhere, and I was tangled up in my nightgown. Noticing my bare legs for the first time, I hastily pulled the fabric down and did my best to subdue my hair.

  “You may go,” Ebb said to the guard, who was still frozen in place. He snapped his mouth shut and made a hasty retreat.

  “I’m sorry, Ebb,” I said, my cheeks burning. “The mattress was too soft, and there were too many blankets, and the pins in my hair were pinching my scalp. I couldn’t sleep like that.”

  She regained her composure quickly, at least. “I understand. I’ll knock first next time.”

  “That would probably be better for everyone.”

  As Ebb stooped to gather up the linens, I realized that the moss lanterns had gone dim. It wasn’t until I looked up that I understood where the light came from. There were dozens of holes cut into the ceiling high above me, and a small amount of light filtered down through the glass in each one.

  She followed my gaze. “The most important chambers have these skylights.”

  As charming as the term skylights was, their existence didn’t make me feel important. Was I really going to spend my days in perpetual semidarkness? I was a creature of the sun and air, not some pale worm who’d spent her entire existence under a rock at the bottom of the ocean. The walls around me suddenly seemed unbearably heavy.

  “I need air,” I said.

  “Milady?”

  “Fresh air. I can’t live like this.” My heart had begun to pound in my chest, and I was finding it hard to breathe. My skin prickled and itched with sweat. “Please, Ebb!”

  “What can I do?” she asked gently, though I could see my panic was beginning to unnerve her. “Even if I was allowed to let you leave, you can’t go out dressed like that. Try to take some deep breaths.”

  “I can’t,” I said, clawing at my chest. “That’s the problem.” My eyes darted around the room. I needed something of Varenia to cling to, something that could bring me back to myself. My eyes landed on the bath, which hadn’t been emptied last night due to the late hour. Ebb had promised someone would take care of it this morning.