by Tara Omar
But it was nearly finished; they had reached the altar. Dominic gave a stirring speech about the union of the Temple and the State, of which Liza heard not a word. He nudged her. She mumbled a few words, and they crossed arms, facing each other. Liza felt ready to die. Then she calmed. She saw a familiar face.
“It’s you…” she whispered.
Liza kissed him, and the two dropped their entwined torches onto a pile of black firestones, sending up a blaze. The crowd cheered and the kiss ended. Dominic stared at her with surprise, and Liza sunk into disappointment as she realised the Saladin she had seen was merely a shadow caught in his nephew’s eyes. She felt ready to cry. The people cheered and pulled apart crackers which exploded with glitter as the two hurried down the aisle, the crowd brimming with smiles and chatter about how beautiful the ceremony had been. A few critiqued that the bride hadn’t looked “quite right” but were quickly dismissed as being dismal. The happy guests made their way to the ruby room, while people in every corner of Aeroth sent glowing lanterns into the sky.
Meanwhile, somewhere in a shadowy corner behind closed doors, Dominic scolded Madame Soiree as a heaving Liza doubled over at his feet.
“What is wrong with her?” asked Dominic.
“She must be having an adverse reaction to the pills. I may have overdone the dosage,” said Madame, turning to a servant. “Fetch the doctor immediately. She’s going to need an injection.”
Dominic grabbed his hair. “Pills? Are you frickin’ mad?”
“Not to worry, Your Majesty. It’s just a minor setback. She’ll be ready for dinner in no time,” said Madame.
“She’d better be,” barked Dominic. “I will not have another scandal on my head.”
“Duly noted, Sire,” said Madame. “She will be sorted in no time. Not to worry.”
“Is everything okay?” asked Gabe, who poked his head through the door. He glanced at Liza curled up at Dominic’s feet, his face lined with worry. “Oh, my. Have you called a doctor?”
“All taken care of, Sir,” said Madame. “As I was assuring the King, everything is under control.”
“Come let’s go, Dominic. You’ll just be in the way if you stay here,” said Gabe.
Dominic shook his head. “I want to stay.”
“You can be more help to Liza if you cover for her until she can come herself,” said Gabe, “unless you want your new wife the subject of gossip in the Rosy Herald. The people are asking for you, and she is in good hands.”
Dominic nodded and followed Gabe out.
While Liza was poked and prodded back to coherence, David stood in the chilly night air in another part of Aeroth, his thoughts also lost with someone far away. Yasmin stood near him in the darkened veldt, feeling the warmth of the lighted paper lantern in her hands. Sasha stood next to her, silent and thoughtful.
“For health and happiness, and all the blessings of love for the new family, and for all other families in Aeroth,” said Yasmin, releasing the lantern in the sky. David watched as it floated across the veldt, alone and distant from the others in the City. He rubbed his arms and felt the drawing tucked in a pocket against his chest, his thoughts with a beloved mera in Larimar.
Back at the Palace, Liza stared at herself in the mirror, numb to all feeling. The dinner had gone off beautifully, though Liza barely noticed. She had spent most of the evening fretting over what would come afterward. Now, as she looked at herself, dressed in the lingerie Madame had picked, she wondered if it had been the will of the Leviathan and not Avinoam that had saved her for this. She eyed the case of calming tablets Madame had left on the bedside table, just as the door handle turned with a clang. Liza dove into bed and pulled the covers up to her nose.
“Evening,” said Dominic, as he entered the room.
Liza stared at him with the cold, silent stare of a bird unhappy with its cage. He was still dressed in his wedding outfit, with Saladin’s sword hanging by his side. He chuckled awkwardly.
“Biy’avi, Liza, did you really think I would rape you? I might be scandalous, but I’m not a monster.”
Liza didn’t answer.
“Look, I’m sorry it had to go down this way,” said Dominic, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “I know I’m not Saladin, and I won’t pretend to be.”
“Why did you force me to marry you?” asked Liza.
Dominic shrugged. “It’s much easier for people to forgive a woman taken in lust than a woman chosen for her intelligence, and I am in need of your counsel.”
“Excuse me?”
“If I had hired you as an adviser, you would be open to severe scrutiny and all the jealous plots that come with a political appointment. If you are my wife, you will escape some of that at least. With my history, not many would expect more from me anyway.”
Liza gaped at him. “But you hated the Lady…” said Liza, sitting up straighter. The motion caused the blanket to slip down. Dominic eyed her but quickly looked away. She snuck back under the blanket.
“Yeah, the Lady was completely mad,” said Dominic, clearing his throat, “but she was intelligent and had a loyal following. I can give her that.”
“And you expect me to persuade those people to come to your side,” said Liza.
“I’d like for you to give them a voice at the Palace, for they shall not have one otherwise,” said Dominic.
Liza paused, thoughtful.
“I saw the dagger, Liza. David Michelson had it on him before Saladin was killed. The guy claimed to be from the mountains and was visiting Norbert Bransby on Lady Imaan’s errand. The Humphrite’s testimony against her adds up. I didn’t arrest her on petty rumour.”
“Oh, and the King’s murderer couldn’t possibly tell a lie, could he?” asked Liza.
“It’s more than that, and you know it,” said Dominic.
“Yes, well forgive me for not believing a lone witness brought by Gabriel Silbi,” said Liza. “Besides, I highly doubt the Lady would send him to visit Norbert. That seems a very big risk for no real purpose. What information could Norbert possibly offer him?”
“We think she used his database to verify the poison,” said Dominic.
Liza rolled her eyes. “Of all people, he’s even less likely a candidate for conspiracy than the Lady…”
“If he were involved, I doubt it was willingly. That man went mad long ago. He was investigated, though, but we couldn’t get anything out of him,” said Dominic, rubbing his neck. “In any event, I can’t help but wonder if your resistance to the truth is a result of loyalty to the lady or an air of self-importance. It’s quite possible you can’t admit that your beloved mentor may have had plans she chose not to share with you.”
Liza frowned. “Why me? If you truly believe these preposterous claims against the Lady, why take her closest student?”
“I plan to fulfil my uncle’s wish of a united kingdom. I do not agree with everything my uncle did, but I think he was wise in balancing the political and religious matters among the people. Perhaps I don’t understand his reasons now, but I can at least trust there were reasons.” He smiled. “Besides, you’ve proven to be much more scandalous than even me, standing up to her the way you did. You left her for Saladin, which seems like a very rational quality.”
Liza looked away.
“Though I must admit, being caught with contraband was a bit much.”
“That wasn’t me,” protested Liza.
Dominic smirked, his wry smile turning to a frown as he looked at the sword at his waist. “I’m in over my head, Liza. I never wanted to rule, and I didn’t prepare for it. Most days I feel like a boy in a dead man’s shoes.”
He took his uncle’s sword from his belt and tapped it with a glove until it turned molten orange. He twisted it into a rose and laid it on the pillow before heading to the door. He nodded.
“Goodnight.”
&nbs
p; Liza stared at the rose, her mind troubled.
C h a p t e r 1 9
“Can I help?” asked David. The light of the early morning was just peeking over the horizon. David sat down alongside Yasmin, who was scraping resin off a frankincense tree. She stroked the cut with her fingers.
“Just about finished,” said Yasmin, wrapping a patterned bandage over the cut. “Trees are very generous when you take care of them. I always try to look after the trees.” She smiled. “You can help sort this basket, though. I’ll arrange by size; you separate by colour.”
She laid a tea towel between them and began sorting the frankincense pebbles into piles. As she worked, David began to notice the variations of colour among them, ranging from a pale green to yellow and white. He started separating Yasmin’s piles.
“Sasha told me about Mount Leah,” said David, tossing a yellow-green speck onto a small pile of similarly-coloured ones. “From what he told me, it sounds like Sasha has a really strong case that the volcano will erupt.”
“I have no doubt,” said Yasmin. “Sasha is a smart man.”
“Why doesn’t he want to tell anyone?”
“He’s afraid the same thing will happen to him as what happened to my brother. But not for himself mind you, he’s very brave. He’s afraid I’ll be left without a husband like my sister-in-law. Her family situation is not very good,” said Yasmin. She frowned. “Shame, I must admire her spirit at least. Raising two adopted sons by yourself is not an easy task. Sash helps when he can, but it’s still difficult.”
“What happened to your brother?”
Yasmin didn’t answer.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to pry,” said David.
“Yes, you do,” said Yasmin, “but that’s okay. I think you mean it more from a sense of caring than general nosiness, and that’s very admirable.” She giggled as she tossed a pebble of frankincense onto a growing pile. “My brother and Sash were best friends; they did everything together. That’s how we met. They were always up to something, those two, even as children. If it weren’t more volcanic theories, it was plans on how to win the M-R-6. Such big dreams they always had, until…” Yasmin took a deep breath. “…until my brother missed a triple danger and slammed right into a tree. He died on impact.”
“I’m so sorry,” said David.
“I can at least be grateful my husband was spared,” said Yasmin. “If the car had veered any more than it did, they would have both been taken. Sash was navigating. Sash still races every year in his memory. He hasn’t managed a win yet, but I know he will. The heart is there.”
“And Mount Leah?” asked David.
“About a week before the race, my brother became, well, strange. He was very tense, almost paranoid; he kept looking over his shoulder and mumbling that they were out to get him, or that they would definitely come for him after what he’d found.”
“What did he find?”
Yasmin became very quiet.
David asked again. “Yasmin, what did he find?”
“Sasha, we were just chatting and sorting the frankincense,” said Yasmin. David turned around, finding Sasha behind him.
“Yes, and while we’re on the subject of unnecessary information and unfortunate deaths, perhaps you have something you’d like to tell Yasmin, Dave?” asked Sasha angrily.
David stared at him, his eyes pleading.
“Yasmin, Dave Lotkin is actually David Michelson,” said Sasha. “He’s wanted for Saladin’s murder.”
“What?” asked Yasmin.
“He’s also a mer.”
David stammered. “Yes, I’m a mer, but I didn’t kill Saladin. I would never kill anyone. I was framed. I swear it.”
“I…think I shall need a minute,” said Yasmin. She stood up and ran toward the house, knocking the basket of frankincense as she left. David called.
“Yasmin, please! It wasn’t me.”
David turned to Sasha, dumbstruck. “Why?”
He shrugged. “She’ll come around.”
“I trusted you,” said David.
Sasha stared ahead, unmoved. “Just give her some time.”
“What? So she can call Ibex and have me arrested? No, thank you.”
“I spoke with Jia Li today.”
“And?”
“I think you should speak to Yasmin before we take that discussion further,” said Sasha.
“Oh, so you’re going to force me now? I must sort things out with your wife—which may or may not end nicely for me—before I get information on the fountain? Sorry, I’m done with deals like that.”
David shook his head and raced through the grass into the shadow of the mountains.
C h a p t e r 2 0
Liza awoke to the harsh light of newly-pulled curtains and the bellowing hum of a familiar voice. Catherine was bustling about the room, humming as she rearranged the furniture. Liza squinted at her.
“Good morning, Lady. Did you sleep well?” asked Catherine.
“Not actually,” said Liza.
“I should probably call you Your Highness, considering,” said Catherine with a smile. “Come to think of it, what exactly are you? Dominic’s allowed the Temple to reopen with you as High Priest, but you’re also a queen now. Does that make you a High Lady? Or perhaps a priestly highness?”
“Just Liza will do,” said the sleepy queen, sitting up. Catherine reeled back.
“Oh, Sweet Avi in Paradise, that’s not an image that will fade quickly,” said Catherine.
Liza shrunk back under the sheets. She had forgotten what she was wearing. Catherine shook her head.
“Whoa…Did you? I mean…Well, I guess you are married now, but really?”
Liza frowned. “Catherine.”
“Sorry, it’s just…well, I’ve been walled up in the Temple for quite some time; I didn’t expect such, um… I’ll just keep quiet now,” said Catherine, handing her a robe. Liza frowned.
“In answer to your question, no,” said Liza.
“Well, then, that is an interesting pyjama choice,” said Catherine. “We must do something about it; it’s completely improper.” She pulled back the top of the robe slightly with her finger, but Liza slapped her hand away.
“Catherine, focus.”
“Right. Dominic has made me your first lady in waiting, or personal assistant, whichever title suits you more,” said Catherine. “I’ve already taken the liberty of going through your closet. Your shoes have been arranged according to colour, texture and heel height, to which I’ve matched corresponding outfits and accessories. Outfits that are immoral and unbefitting of your role as head of the Temple I’ve put in the basket, and I shall be speaking to Dominic about his tawdry taste in loungewear.”
Liza paused. “How old are you Catherine?”
“Why?” she asked.
“No reason.”
Catherine smiled. “My Lady’s in a bit of a shock from the marriage to that devil, I understand. Does the closet meet with your liking?” asked Catherine, her eyes clearly looking for approval. Liza nodded.
“Yes, you’ve done a wonderful job. Thank you.”
Catherine beamed. “Always a pleasure, Lady.”
“Speaking of the devil,” said Catherine as a knock sounded on the door. She curtsied as Dominic entered the room.
“Good morning,” said Dominic. “Is my wife well?”
“How can she be well?” asked Catherine. “She’s married to you, isn’t she?”
“Catherine, hush,” said Liza.
“It’s fine. I’ve heard worse,” said Dominic.
“Hmm… you’ve deserved worse.”
“Catherine!”
“And actually, while we’re on the subject, who do you think you are, expecting Liza to wear these abominable clothes?” asked Catherine. “Nearly half her closet is completely
unacceptable for her, and there’s not a veil or scarf to be seen. She is the queen, mind you, with a reputation of decency and morality to uphold. Of family values.”
“Catherine, please,” said Liza. Dominic shook his head.
“No, I completely agree.”
“You do?” they asked.
“If the clothes don’t meet with your liking, by all means, change them,” said Dominic. “I know very little of women’s clothing, and I’m sure in matters of family, you are much more versed than I. Madame Soiree can assist.”
“Really?” asked Catherine. She cleared her throat. “Very well. The Lady will need a selection of scarves and veils as well.”
“Fine,” said Dominic.
“And a copy of The Sacred Memories for her nightstand.”
“Done. Anything else?”
Catherine paused, thoughtful. “Not at the moment, no.”
Dominic nodded. “Liza, I will be attending the peregrine auction this afternoon. I’ve been told you like flying.”
“Who told you that?” asked Catherine.
“The servants might have mentioned it,” said Dominic awkwardly. “Anyway, I would like to know if you would accompany me to the sale.”
Catherine frowned. “The Lady—”
“Would love to attend,” said Liza.
“Really?” asked Dominic.
“Yes, that would be lovely,” said Liza.
“Good, I shall see you this afternoon then.”
“Yes.”
He paused at the door. “Well, enjoy your breakfast. Good day.”
Dominic left as servants pushed in cart after cart filled with towers of fruit and breakfast foods. Catherine gaped at them.
“Biy’avi, who is all this food for?” she asked.
“For the Queen and the Madame, Madame,” said a servant. “The King was unsure as to what would be desired so he had us make the lot.”
“Then I guess we can add gluttony to his list of offences,” said Catherine. She piled a plate high with scrambled eggs and drowned it in hot sauce. Liza smiled.
