Under the Stars

by Rebecca A. Rogers

  Ray and Malik wash dishes in a large sink. Dark circles hang below their eyes, and their hair is stuck to their foreheads.

  “Pssst.” Daphne tries to gain their attention, but the grease popping in the fryer to our left is much louder. She does it again, with more of a hiss.

  Malik turns around to grab a towel, his body jolting. “What are you guys doing here? Nobody’s supposed to be in the kitchen.”

  I roll my eyes. “Please. It’s after hours.”

  Daphne and Ray exchange wily glances.

  “Outside,” Malik says. “Let’s leave these two lovebirds alone for a minute.”

  “You know about them?”

  “I had to hear about it all day.”

  I stifle a laugh. “I’m sorry, but at least it was entertaining, right?”

  He cuts me a glare so razor sharp I can almost feel my skin oozing blood. “No offense, but why are you here? Shouldn’t you be dining with the King?”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, Mr. Cook, dinner’s been over for two hours. I didn’t come down here for food, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Then, what else?”

  “I need to talk to you. In private. I don’t want anyone overhearing.”

  His eyebrows tighten. Deep creases jut out in-between, hugging each other. “Well, I can’t leave until everything is cleaned—”

  “Show me what to do. I’ll help.”

  “If we get caught with you two in there, we’ll be removed and placed in another part of the castle. I don’t know about you, but I hate moving. Besides, I need to keep a steady income for my family. I can’t do that if I’m getting into trouble.”

  “Fine. We’ll wait outside. Just…hurry. It’s important.”

  He raises one eyebrow in question. “That urgent? This had better be good.”

  “I don’t know about good, but you might get a kick out of it.”

  “Okay, I’ll hurry.”

  Daphne explodes through the door—all smiles. “Sorry ta keep ya waitin’.” She giggles…and can’t stop. Even chews the tips of her fingernails.

  Her joy is infectious. I can’t help but chuckle. “You really do love him, don’t you?”

  Like light from a million stars, her eyes illuminate. “Yes, miss. I do.”

  “Why don’t you two get married?”

  And there they go, fading to black. “Um, we don’t have weddings much here. The King won’t allow it until he’s married. Most think it’s ‘cause he doesn’t want ta see others happy.”

  “Like he’s jealous.”

  She nods. “An’ maybe he’s right. Maybe we should wait ‘til our King is married. We’re bein’ selfish.”

  “It’s not selfish. You can’t help who you love and the fact that you want to spend your life with them, legally.”

  “It’s jus’ a law, miss.” But I see the hopelessness in her eyes. She knows if I don’t marry the King, she won’t be able to wed Ray. “It’s too soon anyway. But when ya have a life like mine, ya don’ have much ta live for. Meetin’ him has been good for me.”

  “I can tell.” I try to smile, but my heart is breaking. How would it feel if I loved someone and couldn’t really be with them for fear of being sent away? What does King Zarek do to people who marry?

  Before I ask, Malik appears.

  “Ray’s waiting for you,” he says to Daphne. She doesn’t hesitate.

  “Do you know somewhere quiet?” I ask.

  “Follow me.” He leads me around the side of the kitchen, through a short hallway. At the end, there is a door on each side. Both lead to different corridors.

  “This place is so confusing.”

  Malik smirks. “It’s not so bad once you get used to it. I’ll take you to my room so we can talk.”

  My nose detects a hall full of males. Heavy body odor emits from the wood-paneled walls, like it’s triggered by our appearance. I pinch my nose, breathing through my mouth.

  Malik gives me an odd look, then shakes his head. “I can’t even smell it anymore.” He sniffs his armpit. Gross.

  “We have to get you out of here,” I say in my temporary, nasally voice.

  His room doesn’t smell half as bad, though. It’s cozy, definitely not as big as the room he did have next to mine. He has his own bathroom and chest of drawers. The bed is smaller, like it could hold two people snugly.

  “This isn’t so bad,” I say.

  “Yeah, not everything is feathered pillows and silk.”

  “Do you forget where we came from?”

  “Do you?”

  Via the mirror hanging on his wall, I notice my cheeks aren’t so thin anymore. “No, of course not.”

  He grabs a few clothes off his bed and tosses them into a basket in the bathroom. “Good. Don’t. These people will never know what it’s like to give up a meal so your family will live.”

  “Not unless something happens to Valyad, they won’t.”

  “They will always be under the protection of their King.”

  “You say his title like he’s not ours, too. He’s everyone’s in this world.”

  Plopping down on his bed, he says, “He’s not the greatest king. I mean, if you could see the way we’re treated. Like slaves, almost.”

  “But you have your job, the one that you wanted. You’re bringing in some money. Isn’t that enough?”

  “Enough to send to my family extra provisions, but that’s it. I was hoping I’d be able to save some for the future, in case this position doesn’t work out.”

  I sit beside him. “Right now, you’re helping them. That’s all that matters. Maybe you’ll earn more. I wouldn’t give up just yet.”

  “Didn’t plan on it. I’ll give it a few months, though.”

  I nod and take a deep breath. What will he think when I tell him the news?

  “I know you didn’t come down here just to see me. Tell me what’s bothering you.” His head inclines in my direction, and his eyes search my face.

  “Well, I’ve learned Legora’s been taken care of,” I say.

  He nods. “So, you’re done here, then? Everyone will be proud.”

  “No, Malik. They were taken care of before we arrived.”

  He gives me a puzzling glance. “Then why are you here?”

  A deep breath. “I’ve been proposed to.”

  “By who?”

  “The King.”

  Malik stands, refusing to glance in my direction.

  “And what have you told him?” he asks, grinding his teeth.

  “Nothing. He said I could think it over and then give my response.”

  At last, he looks at me. “You’re not seriously considering this, are you?”

  “I am.”

  “Don’t be silly. The King wants you because you’re the only attractive thing to look at around here beside the ornate architecture. You’ve seduced him without knowing. Everyone was on your back to push for the supplies, and you’ve gone overboard with it.”

  “I haven’t done any of that. Nothing that would trick him into believing I’d want him. I was just as surprised as you when he asked.”

  “If you didn’t want him, Andy, then you would’ve said no. Immediately.”

  I stand to face him. “So that’s your final verdict to me—say no and everything will go away? What about our families, Malik? What about us?”

  That’s the first I’ve mentioned the us part. We’ve never talked about it. But with the way he holds me, or the way his lips caress my forehead, he can’t deny there’s something there.

  He watches me intently. This might’ve been the worst time to bring up our relationship, but I feel that it has to be addressed. If not now, then when?

  “I care about you,” he finally admits. “More than you know. But I can’t come between the King and what he desires. There’s no gain.”

  “Then I’ll tell him,” I say. “I’ll tell him that we’re meant to be together and he’ll have to find someone else.”

  Malik extends his ar
ms. His hands rest on my shoulders as he stares a hole into my eyes. “You have to do what’s best for Legora. If that means marrying the King, then nobody has a right to stop you. Not even me.”

  “I am replaceable. He can have Lucy or one of the other women in his court. I don’t love him, Malik. I never will.”

  His finger brushes away a strand of hair, and before I can open my mouth again, his lips connect with mine. Soft. Warm. Tormented. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer. Our bodies press against each other. Firmly. Something stirs inside. Something I’ve never felt before.

  I don’t want this to end. Not in a million years. Deep within my mind, body and heart, I know Malik’s the one I should be with.

  But he distances himself, breathless.

  Closing his eyes, he tilts his head back and releases a long sigh through his nose. “We’re always going to be those people who fight for our lives. Not these people here who dance and feast because they have nothing better to do.”

  “Which is why we should stick together.”

  He looks at me. “No, Andy. You have to marry him. Think of your family. Can you stand by and watch your mother and Mattie starve? Can you live with knowing Legora’s people will starve, too?” He shakes his head.

  I already knew the answer. Why is it tougher to hear him say it?

  I shrug. “You’re right. They’d hate me. My family might be released back into the desert to fend for themselves. Then what?”

  He smiles, but it’s feeble and defeated. “I’ll never really approve of this marriage, you know.”

  “Maybe there’s a way I can escape, still. Maybe—” What? I’ll tell the King of the New World no? He always gets what he wants. We both stand here knowing that’s a lie.

  “Just don’t expect me at the wedding,” says Malik. He slinks toward the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

  40.

  I wake the next morning to pounding of fists against my door. Two footmen greet me. They say the King requests my presence, and I’m to be there within the hour.

  Daphne’s not here. I didn’t see her last night after my tiff with Malik. She’s probably keeping Ray’s bed warm, even though I need her now. Shouldn’t Ray be at work, preparing breakfast?

  I do the best I can with my hair and face, wash my hands and make my way to the dining hall.

  And the only person in the room is the King.

  “What’s this?” I ask.

  He waves his hand for me to sit. “I wanted to speak with you. Alone.”

  “If this is about the other night, I haven’t had much time to—”

  “Andrina, my people don’t wait. I don’t wait. We need a queen; someone who will lead our people with grace and turn things around. This place,” he says, looking up toward the ceiling, “needs a woman’s touch. Can you offer that to them and to me?”

  I fumble for words. “I, um, Majesty…”

  “I know you can,” he says, reaching over and clutching my hand in his.

  “I’m not yet a woman, though.”

  “Andrina, I’ve seen older women act less mature. You’ve had to grow up fast, be the provider for your family. Why don’t you let someone else take care of you for a change?”

  If I don’t accept, I’ll never know what it’s like not to barely get by, fighting to keep my family fed. I can’t let Mattie grow up listening to the constant growl of his stomach. I can’t let Mama attempt to sell jewelry for the rest of her life. And if I reject the King, what will happen? Will I be sent to his prison? Back to Legora?

  “What are the terms?” I ask.

  He sits back, releasing my hand. “Excuse me?”

  “There has to be some conditions to this marriage.” I shrug. “What are they?”

  “I’m afraid you have this defined view of what marriage is and what a queen should be. But there’s nothing to it. You mingle with your people, hear their concerns, and make me look good.” He chuckles like this is some big joke.

  “No offense, Majesty, but I need to know what my duties will be before I accept your offer. I don’t want to be conned into this without knowing what I’m getting myself into.”

  He laughs through his teeth, like he’s trying to refrain, and leans forward, taking both of my hands in his again. “My dear, you will have no responsibility except to keep everyone entertained, including me. I’m the one who handles any…duties.”

  “That’s it? I strut around in extremely expensive garb, smile and wave, listen to any problems, and report to you?”

  “That’s the gist.”

  “Sounds easy.”

  “You have no idea. This is not an attempt to cheat you into something you do not wish to do. I am simply offering a better life for you.”

  “And what about my family?”

  “Your family can live here, if they so wish.”

  “And Malik… Can we pay him more? His family needs the money.”

  “Anything you want. His family can join us, too.”

  This doesn’t seem so bad at all. Maybe I’m overanalyzing the situation. Maybe he really does mean well; it’s just the idea of marrying a king that scares me.

  “I accept your offer,” I say, hoping I haven’t made the biggest mistake of my life. “As long as it benefits the people, my family and friends.”

  “I will ready my people to prepare for the wedding.” He lifts my hand to his lips.

  “So soon?”

  This feels so sterile. Contractual. Loveless.

  But what did I expect?

  “My darling, I have waited too long for a wife. The wedding will be scheduled two days from now.” He claps his hands twice, quickly. A footman appears from the side door leading to the kitchen. King Zarek whispers something in his ear and the man nods, returning the way he came. “I love breakfast. My favorite meal of the day.”

  “Wait—two days?” I screech.

  “Oh, darling, if you’re worried about your family, they’ll be here, no doubt,” he replies, with a smile on his face. But something punches me deep down and tells me he’s lying. I decide not to push further, in case I might upset him. If this ends badly for Legora, well, I don’t want to picture my family starving and battling the elements. So, I play naïve. Big smile, Andrina. Really big smile.

  “What’s on the menu?”

  He squints, like he’s thinking hard about it. “Ah, you’ll have to wait and see.”

  Several minutes later the footman brings us our trays. On them are heart-shaped pancakes in strawberry syrup and cream. They’re so warm they melt as soon as they reach my tongue.

  “If you ever want anything to eat, tell them and they’ll make it for you. You’ll never be hungry in my world.”

  “Thank you.”

  I push the plate away when I’m finished. My stomach is so small I can’t eat much. It would take a year to stretch it out.

  “Join me this afternoon for a game of tennis.” I give him this I-don’t-know-about-that look, but he insists. “You can watch. You don’t have to participate.”

  “Good. Because I’ve never played sports.”

  “Well, that’s going to change. I would place money on the fact that you might best my footmen. And they love to play.”

  “I am a fast learner…”

  “See. I knew it.” He stands, and I do too. “Rest up for this afternoon. I don’t want you to be sick in this heat.”

  I have to tell Daphne the news. I just hope she’s in my room when I return. This means that soon she and Ray will be together. Legally. Without consequences.

  I lay on my bed, trying to figure out what I’m going to do for the next few hours, when Daphne barges in.

  “So sorry, miss. Lost track o’ time.”

  “Spend the night with Ray?”

  She blushes, and I take that as a yes.

  “Well, I have good news for you,” I say. “I met with the King this morning and accepted his proposal. So you and Ray can be together, and anyone else that has wished for marria
ge.”

  I’m not sure if the shock on Daphne’s face is because she’s excited, or if she can’t believe I accepted so speedily. Either way, she snaps out of it.

  “’Grats, miss.”

  “Why do you seem worried?”

  “I know yer tryin’ ta do the right thing by helpin’ the people, but there’s more ta bein’ a queen than playin’ dress up.” She keeps her head bowed, like she’s afraid to glance my way.

  “We talked things over—what I’d do, what my responsibilities would be—before I accepted. I know this isn’t going to be easy, but if these people need help, I’m here for them.” I pause. “You think I’m making a mistake?”

  “It’s not my place, miss. Jus’ don’ think the people will accept ya.”

  “Is that why you wouldn’t say much yesterday? There’s no going back now, Daph. I’ve already given the King my answer, and we’ll be married in two days.”

  She glances up. “Two days? That’s not enough time.”

  “He says Valyad desperately needs a queen. It has to happen sooner or later, I guess.”

  Placing her hands on her hips, she asks, “Well, who’s gonna fix ya up?”

  I feel the grin spread through my lips. “I hoped it’d be you.”

  With a shake of her head, she says, “The things I do for ya.”

  41.

  Things are kind of hectic the next day. Everyone’s running in circles trying to prepare for the wedding. Daphne says she’s never worked so hard in all her life. I tag along, helping her with whatever she needs.

  The seamstress says she doesn’t have any white silk or embroidered cloth, and it would take weeks to make by hand. I think she’s just saying that, because nobody is excited to have a young queen. Especially one that came from the same life as them.

  But Daphne sees right through her.

  “Don’ tell me ya don’ have the materials! I seen them jus’ last week. Ya sayin’ that on purpose, ya crazy goat.”

  The woman’s jaw drops. “Nothin’ of the sort! Just don’t believe someone younger than most of us should be queen.” As if her words aren’t enough, she juts her nose toward the ceiling.