“Do our clothes not suit your standards?” Inquisitiveness rings in her voice and I turn to look at her, once again wondering why she is actually here.
“I never said that,” I sigh, suddenly too tired to fight unnecessarily. “The dresses are beautiful and I’m sure on someone else they would be more appropriate, but for me, they are just.....too much.”
“Too much how?” she tilts her head, long waves of golden brown hair falling across her cheek and she suddenly stands, walking towards me to reveal her height is slightly above mine. Great, no matter where I go I’m always the short one.
“I don’t usually wear dresses and when I do they are light and summery, not ostentatious.” I wave my uncloaked hand to the wardrobe. “I’m more of a jeans and t-shirt kind of girl.”
“What are jeans?” her eyes sparkle, revealing her desperation for details.
“You’re kidding right?” This conversation is so weird. “Well they are like pants, except made out of denim material.”
She frowns, pushing her dense, well-maintained eyebrows together.
“You prefer wearing pants, like men do, instead of exquisitely handmade dresses?”
Instead of answering, I retrieve the shredded remains of the dress I ripped off the night before. The frosty mask of hostility that has plagued Ellestra’s luminous face since interrupting my slumber melts from her face, leaving behind a calculating smile that promises to deliver a lot of fun.
“Well, Rayna of Earth, I do believe we have found something in common.”
***
Standing here gazing at my reflection in the full-length mirror, I finally feel a spark of my old self stir beneath the hardened mask which has settled onto my oval face.
Ellestra dropped her snarky attitude pretty quickly and all but dragged me to her bedroom suite, up a stone stairway and to the left of my room, before leaving me standing there, perplexed to as what she was doing.
A lot of un-ladylike grunting and curses resonated throughout the room, bouncing off of the dense walls before Ellestra emerged from her wardrobe with an armful of clothing that had automatically soothed some of my anxieties.
At fourteen, Ellestra is slightly bigger than I am, meaning the clothes that she has recently outgrown fit me perfectly. Even though the thin charcoal pants hug every contour of my curvy lower half, the material is stretchy, allowing me to move with ease. A cream, long sleeved shirt struggles to remain buttoned together over my ample chest but I don’t care, this outfit is considerably more comfortable and less revealing than any one of those ridiculous dresses in my room and thankfully Ellestra has plenty more for me to use.
“Are you sure you don’t mind me taking these?” I have to force the words out; if she reneges then she will have to claw them out of my cold, dead hands.
“Of course. I don’t need them and really I can’t wait to witness Mother’s reaction when she sees you wearing them. It could be fun.”
“Why?” Annoying Karadese isn’t something I want to do, but I also can’t conform to something I’m not, even if I don’t know exactly who I am anymore.
“Mother has a strict dress code.” Ellestra pauses to look me over, a breath-taking smile making her appear older than she really is. “I was only ever allowed to wear these while training and even then it was frowned upon.”
“The price of being a Princess, huh?”
“Exactly.”
“So what sort of training were you doing that required to be dressed more casually?” I’m not overly interested but I don’t want to lapse back into the ease of not talking, the silence brings back too many memories and sets my heart hammering out an accusing tone.
“Physical combat, self-defence, that sort of thing.”
“Really?” Now I actually am interested. I could have used that kind of knowledge over the last few weeks.
“It’s fun. You can come with me sometime if you want? We can even teach you how to use a real weapon, you know, instead of breaking one of Mother’s precious jugs.” Genuine laughter echo’s from her milky throat as she openly mocks me.
Picking up a pillow I throw it at her, my own laughter escaping, taking us both by surprise. It’s been so long since I‘ve laughed, the soft happiness stirring inside my chest feels foreign and it dies just as quickly as guilt gnaws at my mind.
Why should I get to laugh, to feel any kind of happiness no matter how fleeting, when so many others will never experience it again? It doesn’t seem right that I alone have escaped a fate so dire.
The ache in my chest snuffs out any niggling joy and I turn away from her, throwing on a thin grey sweater over my shirt, trying unsuccessfully to drive away the chill which has burrowed deep inside my soul.
Taking in my sudden change of demeanour, Ellestra sits on her bed, propped up by an overabundance of decorative pillows and gestures for me to sit down. She gives me only a moment of reprieve before diving in with an onslaught of questions, the first assuring me that this was her plan all along.
“So what are they like?” Her fingers tug at the tassels of a crimson pillow, the colour evoking memories of my blood flowing around the bracelet which still triumphantly clings to my wrist. “The Zantronians I mean. Are they as hideous as the legends say they are?”
An image of Garvien flashes through my mind, his human persona warring with his true alien self. The memory is enough to make me gag, a fresh wave of nausea rolling my stomach and producing the fear which I now know I will never be free of.
Ellestra doesn’t notice my struggle, too desperate for details on what has always only been a story for her.
“Did you really get to fight one? That’s the rumour anyway, that you were attacking one when our forces invaded.”
A sigh escapes me, there will be no getting away from her questions so I might as well get it over with, and quickly.
“No, I wasn’t attacking when they found me. I was dying. Any attempt at fighting them was futile, they proved that point unequivocally. I was nothing, I am nothing compared to them.”
My fingers absently run across the bracelet hidden beneath my borrowed sweater, its cold band no longer searing my flesh, yet it still will not give up its hold on me.
I push the added uncertainty out of my mind, I really don’t need the stress right now; I’m barely holding it all together as it is.
“What did they do to you? Mother won’t tell me anything, she says I’m too young to hear such things.” She rolls her eyes, her immaturity shining through, reminding me that she is only a child and doesn’t need to know all of the gory details, no matter how much she wants too.
“Really I think she just doesn’t know. But I have heard whisperings, things Blay and Calasis say they’ve found, though I don’t know how true they are.”
Her questions are wearing me down and I stand quickly, making my way across the room, as if putting some distance between us will somehow soften the memories she’s dredging up.
Stopping in front of the arched window, I pause before looking out. I still haven’t seen outside, beyond this castle, since waking up, and the possibility of seeing a barren land similar to Zantron is nearly enough to stop me from looking entirely.
Taking a shaky breath, my eyes wander across the landscape before me, the impossibility of what I see confuses me more than anything else. Instead of vicious rocks covered in black soot from a smouldering earth, my eyes take in the unfeasible tranquillity of what lies outside the castle.
Clouds, white fluffy clouds tinged with the softest pink, hover above the unseen ground, giving the appearance that we are floating through the sky.
“What the ……..” my voice trails off, unable to articulate exactly what I’m seeing.
Ellestra slides up beside me, her face as serene as the view.
“Beautiful isn’t it?”
“Are we floating? How is this possible?” I pull my gaze away to find her smirking at me and I get the undeniable feeling that this girl loves to mock me.
“No,
we aren’t, it just appears that way.”
My eyes dart back out the window, appearances can be deceiving, I learnt that the hard way, yet this seems too real to be anything remotely normal.
“Prytora is a vast land surrounded by water. Our atmosphere is quite high, what appears to be clouds, is in fact thick fog hovering above the water between our lands. On mornings like today, the fog cover is quite dense, reaching past the land and right up to our buildings, giving the sense that we are sitting above the clouds. Spectacular really, for someone who hasn’t witnessed it before, but for me it’s no longer a novelty.”
She heads for the door, throwing over her shoulder, “Are you coming? I don’t want to miss out on Mother seeing you at breakfast.”
Reluctantly I step away from the window, the clouds are certainly beautiful, there’s no denying that, but what worries me though is what lays unseen beneath those clouds?
***
I follow quickly after Ellestra; not wanting to fall behind and get lost in what I’m fast learning is a mammoth sized castle.
This time, when Zaneth steps up beside me, I only give a moment’s pause, allowing myself a second to deal with the spike of fear someone so vast produces. He doesn’t bother with common courtesies and I’m reminded once again how much I like him.
We have taken several turns and gone down two flights of stairs before I realise that I have no hope of finding my way back to my room without asking for help, something I'm loathed to do.
However much this family has been nothing but kind to me, a niggling uncertainty still gnaws at my mind, unwilling to let me fully relax. After everything I’ve endured I truly doubt that I ever will again.
When we finally emerge into the same dining room as last night, I’m pleased to see that we are alone. Once again the table is set with far too much food, but this time it is Ellestra who is piling a hefty amount onto her enlarged plate.
The strong aromas of vastly different foods being served for breakfast makes my stomach roll. The blandness of toast would seem simplistic to these people I’m sure, yet I would kill for some right now.
“Are you going to eat?” Ellestra barely swallows before asking.
I hesitate, the overpowering scent of meat proving too much for my unsettled stomach.
“Actually, do you mind if I wash up first?”
“Sure,” she shrugs, eager to get back to her feast. “Just go out that door and turn left, down the hallway turn right and at the end is a bathroom.”
The moment I take a step Zaneth follows suit. My hands rise automatically, stopping him midstride.
“Seriously, I can go to the bathroom alone, I don’t need a chaperone to pee.”
Zaneth’s eyes narrow, making me wonder if he even realises what I am meaning.
“I’ll be back in five minutes, no need to follow.”
I slip out of the room and rush down the hallway before Zaneth can change his mind and follow me. The bathroom is easy enough to find, it should be, it’s enormous. Whoever built this place was obsessed with an overabundance of space. Not that I’m complaining, after being locked up in that minuscule cage for so long the thought of being anywhere cramped is enough to send a cold sweat down my spine.
I keep my eyes downcast from the mirror, unsure of what I will see if I do dare to look. That fleeting moment of ease with Ellestra has left me rattled, a sense of guilt hanging over me like a black cloud, threatening to destroy me if I allow it to.
Stepping from the room I almost expect to see Zaneth waiting for me, a sigh escapes when I find that I’m still alone.
Taking my time to walk back, I wander along the windowless hallway, stopping to study one of the many paintings along the way.
My pulse quickens as I gaze up at the portrait of a young boy, a face that was softly handsome even back then, his eyes squinting, showing his defiance in a single, measured look. His deep rumbling voice drifts towards me, and for a moment I am paralysed with fear, certain that it is coming from the painting.
Several seconds of rambling delusions later, I hear his voice again. Blay is close, close enough to awaken the prickling awareness which trickles across my skin, warning me to escape while I still can.
My feet involuntarily move towards his voice, ignoring my panicked mind that is screaming out protests of such stupidity. When another voice joins Blay’s I flinch, yet I do not stop until I come to a partially opened door and cautiously peer inside.
Blay stands in the centre of the room, his sinewy arms crossed over his lean chest, his face set into a scowl as he listens to his brother. Calasis is sprawled out over a chair, his long legs propped up on a desk which his father sits behind, authority leaching out of him and making me pull back just a sliver.
“I say we storm them again,” Calasis directs his convincing dictatorship towards Araton. “Hit them while they are down and unprepared. They won’t be expecting it.”
“They are always expecting it, that’s the problem,” Blay’s deep voice interrupts, a muscle in his jaw twitching, showing his agitation. “For some reason they are always one step ahead of us, always expecting our attacks, always ready. The last attack was the closest we have ever come to taking them by surprise since we joined this fight, Calasis, and that was purely because they were so preoccupied. If we were even ten minutes later, if Rayna was already dead, then I doubt we would have managed to kill any of them at all.”
“You can’t know that.” Calasis drops his feet, standing fluidly to face his brother.
“I do know that,” Blay grunts. “Our past experiences have proven it.”
Blay steps forward, toe to toe with Calasis, looking down on him with authority that Calasis chooses to ignore.
“But we did kill some of them, for the first time since you and I have been fighting in this war, we were able to kill some. That should prove to you that we can do this, we just need to fight harder.”
“Alright, that’s enough you two.” Araton shakes his head before pinching his fingers against the bridge of his nose. The stress, clearly written on his face, shows his age and for a fraction of a second, I feel remorse for him, for these people who have had to deal with these awful creatures for far longer than I have.
The unease crawling around inside my belly isn’t enough to drive me away. I stay glued to the spot, watching their argument unfold.
“I have to agree with you, Blay.” Araton ignores Calasis’s snort. “The Zantronians have eluded us for so long now, always knowing our moves before we execute them. We got lucky this time; I highly doubt they will allow that to happen again. Do either of you have any suggestions before I deliberate with the council?”
Calasis flops back into the chair, no longer interested in participating if fighting is not the outcome.
Blay nods, a plan unfolding in his mind as he scrapes a thumbnail across his puckered lips.
“We need to re-evaluate before another attack is launched. There is no doubt that they all need to be annihilated, their actions prove once again that they can’t be trusted, now that they have started an attack on the humans too, I think that shows how devious they really are.”
Araton nods, his respect for Blay shining through as he listens to every word.
“Right now I feel our main objective is to find out how they always know we are going to attack. I fear we have a mole in our system, and until we uncover who it is, then we are playing right into their hands.”
“Our people’s hatred for the Zantronians is too strong for anyone to leak information to them,” Araton’s voice holds little conviction.
“How else can you explain it?” Blay says. “Even if they are only given a few minute’s notice, that is enough for them to be ready, to prepare themselves and for our army to fail. I see no other explanation of how they know we are coming. There is a mole in our system and I will stop at nothing to prove it and rectify the situation.”
“Now we are talking.” Calasis is once again interested in Blay’s suggestions, his
face pulling into a full smile at the possibility of a fight.
“My Lady Rayna,” Zaneth’s unexpected voice coming from behind nearly has me jumping out of my skin.
I turn facing him too quickly, stumbling in my haste, my hand reaching out to find something solid to grab onto, only to find thin air. I fall against the door, effectively swinging it open and landing on my knees on the floor.
All eyes land on me, awareness filling their faces as they realise that I’ve been eavesdropping in on their conversation. No one says a word while I scramble up off the ground, refusing Zaneth’s offering of help.
My weak apologies are met with Araton’s silent acceptance and Calasis’s gleeful smile, his own eyes twinkling with our common waywardness. Only Blay looks upon me with any condemnation, his body rigid as stone while he takes in my pathetic excuses.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter, heat burning my cheeks. “I was just returning from the bathroom and got lost. I didn’t want to interrupt your conversation.”
“Our conversation had nothing to do with you.” Blay’s voice repels off of me like hailstones hitting the hardened earth. “I’m unaware how things work on your planet but here you should have made your presence known.”
The silent warning echoing all over my body increases until it feels like my skin is pulsating with the scalding pain of fire.
I ache to run away, to flee back to my room where I am safe and I can pretend that I don’t belong in this world, but I don’t, I can’t. The stubborn determination which kept me alive refuses to play dead anymore, no matter how much Blay terrifies me.
“Actually your conversation has everything to do with me.” My eyes narrow, glaring up at him with as much disdain as he has for me. “You may be trying to fight them, and from what I hear that has been a complete failure, but you know nothing of what it is like to be captured by them, to be forced to watch their vile actions. You sit up here in this castle above the clouds and you truly believe that you have a shot of defeating them? You’re mad! Or cocky!” I’m on a roll now and I can’t stop, my voice growing angrier the longer I stand here shouting up at him.
Paladin Rising (The Paladin's Curse Book 1) Page 6
