Lydia's Dance (The Two Moons of Rehnor)

by J. Naomi Ay

  The Two Moons of Rehnor

  Novella Collection

  Lydia's Dance

  By

  J. Naomi Ay

  Published by Ayzenberg, Inc.

  Copyright 2012 Ayzenberg, Inc.

  All Rights Reserved

  040613

  Cover Design by Amy Jambor

  Photo credits: Alexander Yakolev@Bigstock.com and Jeni Foto@Bigstock.com

  Also by

  J. Naomi Ay

  The Two Moons of Rehnor Series

  The Boy who Lit up the Sky, Book 1

  My Enemy’s Son, Book 2

  Of Blood and Angels, Book 3

  Firestone Rings, Book 4

  The Days of the Golden Moons, Book 5

  Golden's Quest, Book 6

  Metamorphosis, Book 7

  The Choice, Book 8

  Treasure Hunt, Book 9

  The Beginning, Books 1 - 3

  Mid Vita, Books 4 & 5

  Novella Collection

  Meri

  King of the Streets

  Lydia's Dance

  Taner's Running Game

  Diridan's Daughter

  Caissa's Favor

  Space Doctor

  Big Red

  Thad's Mistakes

  The Journey to Rehnor Series

  The New Planet, Book 1

  Aran's Gift, Book 2

  Chapter 1

  Lydia

  "Where are you going, Lydia?" My brother asked. His friend, Phylyp, looked up from the chess set and waited for my answer.

  "Don't move your bishop, Phylyp," I said as I headed to the door. "He'll eat you in less than three moves if you do." Phylyp put his bishop back down and studied the board intently although Akan got up and followed me.

  "Are you going to see him?" He taunted, his emerald green eyes dancing with the pleasure of knowing about my clandestine meeting and the power he would now wield over me with that knowledge. Nothing excited him more than the opportunity to get me in trouble.

  "It's none of your business," I snapped. "I can do whatever I want." I knocked on the door and waited while the guard unlatched it and poked his head in.

  "Let me out," I declared in my most regal voice that always seemed to sound exactly like my mother's. "I should like to go to my bedchamber now." Farman, the guard, had always been our guard since my earliest memory. Now, he looked at me doubtfully. "Come now, Farman," I begged resuming my own voice and tone. "Don't leave me locked in here all evening like a child. I am sixteen now."

  "All the more reason to keep you locked in, Princess," he replied with a smile.

  "I don't want to be with them!" I pointed emphatically at my fourteen year old brother and his friend. "I promise I'll go straight to my chamber and immediately to bed. You can follow me if you like, just to make certain."

  Farman cocked his head to the side and quickly glanced in the room at the two boys who were now making a game of throwing the chess pieces at one another. Only seconds earlier, Phylyp had called "check" which caused the game to deteriorate into their usual melee. "I had better stay here and make sure they don't break anything else or decide to create more booby-traps for the maids and the kitchen staff," Farman muttered.

  "Yes, you had better," I agreed and stood up on my toes to plant a tiny kiss on Farman's weathered cheek. He blushed red, nearly as red as his hair and fuzzy beard and then looked the other way so he could honestly report that he did not see me leave should anyone care to ask. I raced down the hall as quickly as I could and for Farman's benefit, went straight to my suite. From there I changed from my evening dress gown, a long watered silk skirt with a tunic and overlay in a sapphire blue that Mother said brought color to my eyes. Instead, I slipped on a pair of leggings and t-shirt which previously I had only worn when practicing dance. Mother had loved dancing and had once been an accomplished ballerina until she broke her foot. Now my dancing was her passion, certainly more so than mine, and despite my lack of skill and coordination, I never managed to be lucky enough to break a limb. Instead, I was forced to practice two hours each day, leaping and twirling across the Crystal Ballroom with my tutor unless the ballroom was in use. If I were so fortunate for that to be the case, then I was sentenced to piano practice for an equal duration. I was no more graceful on the keys than I was with my feet yet Mother considered this the ideal training for the Royal Princess of the realm.

  Once dressed in my practice clothes, I found warm fur boots for my feet and a plush dark blue cape with a hood lined in blue fox. I pushed open the doors to my balcony although the wind raged outside, and I stepped down the slippery marble staircase to reach the snow covered moonlit beach. It was horribly frigid and cold, but the two moons shown golden in the night as I crept from the Big House of the Palace to the guard house nearly a half mile away. Once there, I slipped inside and raced up the back stair to the topmost floor and the second door down where I rapped quietly.

  "What?" The gruff voice cried.

  "It's me," I whispered. His footsteps fell heavily upon the floor and then quickly the door lock slipped open. He had been sleeping and from the look of him, I had woken him from a dream. His face was lined by the folds of his pillow, and his white blonde hair was a mess. He reached for my arm and pulled me inside, shutting the door quickly and locking it fast.

  "What are you doing here?" He whispered though his breath caught and his pale blue eyes smiled with the surprise.

  "I wanted to see you." I glanced around the tiny bare room. Atop the small bureau was only a framed picture of his mother, illuminated by the golden light shining in through the small window. "I couldn't sleep." I picked up the picture and studied the young woman's face, seeing the same white blonde hair and translucent blue eyes.

  "Well, I could," he said and went to sit on his bed and run his fingers through his hair. He glanced at the clock on his bedside table. "I'm on duty in just four hours. Ach, Lydia, you shouldn't have come. I'll walk you home and then I really need to sleep."

  "You don't have to walk me," I pouted, performing three tiny pirouettes across the small floor of his room. Then, I reached for his uniform, which hung from a hook on the wall, and running my hand across it, I fingered the braid on his collar and cuffs. I stroked the sleeve as I would have stroked his arm should he have allowed me to do so instead of shying away. "Will you dance with me, sir?" I asked the coat while lifting it from the hook. "I have no one to waltz with and the music is grand. Father's not looking and Mother's gone to bed. Surely, you'll waltz with me just this once?"

  "Lydia," he sighed as I spun on the floor, hugging the coat in my arms.

  "Am I going too fast for you, sir? Your feet are enormous and difficult to control. Don't worry, I'm as light as feather, and I dance on my toes. You won't step on me no matter how hard you may try."

  "Lydia," he sighed again and spoke a little louder. "I've got to get to sleep. I've no time for these games." He lay back down on his bed and turned away from me, shutting off his light and pretending to snore.

  "Loman!" I cried dropping his uniform on the floor. "You're no fun at all. Please let me stay. I won't be a bother." I lifted up his blanket and climbed in beside him.

  "Ach, Lydia," he groaned and turned to hug me from the back. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me against his chest, and I lay there that night with his breath warm on my ear. He wouldn't kiss me. He wouldn't touch me beyond holding me close in his sleep. For me, this was enough, but then I was sixteen with only the faintest idea as to what should come next. Loman was twenty-one, newly commissioned in the guard and surely he had within him the desires of a man. As he held me that night, I wished I was not the Princess Royal and could satisfy those
desires by becoming his beloved wife. I could live in a tiny room like this as long as Loman lived there, as well. I didn’t need a marble palace or servants to bathe my feet. All I needed was my love.

  "I'll speak to Father again," I whispered. "I'll beg, and I'll plead."

  "Go to sleep, Princess," he mumbled and then really began to snore.

  At three in the morning, we both crept from his room and back to my suite leaving tracks upon the freshly fallen snow. At the door to my chamber, I threw myself again in his arms and begged him to kiss me as he'd never done before. He reached for my hand and brought his lips only to my wrist and then bidding me goodnight, he quickly walked away.

  "I love you, Loman," I called, but my words were taken by the wind and fell upon the snow to lay there beating with my warm and loving heart.

  "Up, Princess!" My tutor yelled as I leapt upon my toes and reached for the chandelier that hung far above my head. The snow outside was falling in giant sparkling flakes reflecting off the windows and bathing me in a gentle white light. "Again," he shouted and rapped his baton against a priceless antique chair. I spun and performed an echappé followed by three cabriole and then collapsed in exhaustion.

  "Up!" He ordered.

  "No! I won't do anymore today."

  "You must," he insisted. "Get up! Get up!" I was just about to argue when the door to the ballroom opened, and then Loman crossed the floor. Now my heart leapt in a perfect jeté as my eyes drank in the sight of him. He looked as if he could be a duke or prince in his dress black uniform with gold silk sash, and my father's insignia upon his breast. His white blonde hair was combed perfectly in place, and his piercing pale eyes stared intently upon me. Rising to my feet, I held out my hand

  "Have you come to waltz now, sir?"

  "His Majesty bids you attend him, Your Highness," he replied in a voice that was formal and strained. "Will you excuse us, please?" He nodded to the tutor and then held the door open for me.

  "What is it?" I asked, unlacing my toe shoes and quickly slipping on flats, I hurried to catch up with him. Loman didn't answer just walked steadily ahead. "What's going on?" I repeated, my heart racing with alarm. He led me to my father's office, through the series of great doors until at last, I found myself standing alone before our king.

  "Lydia," my father said and waved me to his side. I glanced back at Loman, who stood rigidly, his eyes cast away. The fire burned in my father's great hearth throwing shadows along the frescoed ceiling and the wainscoted walls. The snow fell unabated, drifting past the windows and rising in giant drifts upon the beach outside. "My darling girl," my father took my hands and pecked me upon the cheek. "My own and precious daughter, I have news for you I wish to share." He guided me to the sofas which sat next to the fire and although it burned brightly and warm, my soul felt strangely chilled. I had only been here, in my father's office a few times in my life and never before had I been asked to sit.

  "What's this about, My Lord?" I begged while standing before the fire.

  "Lydia, my dearest, you are to be wed." I caught my breath. My heart soared with joy. Surely, my love must have asked for my hand before I could plead our case myself. I looked to Loman, my newly betrothed, expecting to see his confirmation but instead his eyes were fastened upon the snow and his face looked as if cut from stone.

  "Your betrothed," my father continued, "shall be arriving to greet you next week."

  "I don't understand." My voice interrupted, not sounding like my own. "With whom do I wed and how could you promise me without my own consultation?

  "You are to marry the son of the Karupta King," Father said, and his face showed a bit of chagrin. "I'm sorry, Lydia. It must be this way. I know this is not what you wish."

  "No," I replied, my heart twisting. "Is this some kind of jest? This is not what I wish at all."

  "It is what it is," Father sighed. "The terms have been negotiated and agreed. You shall get used to it in time. We are bound by our duties first and foremost, and your duty is to create the next heir. Shall we have a cup of tea?"

  "I won't marry a filthy Karut!" I stomped my feet and brushed away the maid who stood with the tea. "How could you do this to me, Father?"

  "That's enough, Lydia," my father commanded. "You shall do as I say. Sit back down and sup with me for there is more we must discuss."

  "No! I shan't! I won't! You can't make me do this!" I turned my back to him so he might not see the tears racing down my face.

  "Lydia!" He snapped. "I shall have your obedience. Whether it pleases you or not, this is your lot in life. You will marry the Prince and beget a son, and after that, it shall matter not what you do."

  "You are cruel!" I yelled at my father, "selling me as if I were a horse. And to the Karupta's no less who are as savage as cavemen! They've been our mortal enemies for centuries, and yet you would bind me to them? Is this how you mean to make peace, by offering my womb?"

  "The Karupta King and I have forged a truce, The Agreement that shall end all the wars. We will create a single man who shall rule this planet after us and all the people of Rehnor shall be as one. This man shall be your son, Lydia, although he is yet to be conceived. The Karuptas say this future is written in their books."

  "How do you know this?" I protested while swiping quickly at my eyes. "What foolishness is this? What books know what will happen before it comes to pass?"

  "The Karuptas have books," my father muttered although again, the expression on his face told me he doubted it himself. "They say it is the word of their god. It was chronicled by their forefather ten centuries ago. The prophecies, they claim, name you."

  "But what about Akan," I cried for was not my brother to be our king? "Will this unborn child of mine supersede your own son?"

  My father lifted his teacup and studied the leaves therein. Loman stood still as a statue. My brother's throne, I understood, was forfeit here, as well. I turned my face to the fire and set my mind to think. What choice had I in this? What recourse could I attain?

  "As you wish, Father," I declared having found no other option. "How soon is this contract to take place?"

  "To spare you the indignity of lying repeatedly with the Prince, I would ask that you share with me your cycle."

  "Excuse me?" I shrieked. "How dare you ask such a question?"

  "She doesn't understand, Your Majesty," Loman spoke softly from the door. "Her knowledge is like that of a child."

  "How dare you?" I, now, demanded equally of him, "To assume that I am so naïve. If my sole purpose and existence is to generate and incubate this brat, then the opportune time would be in ten days hence. I shall do as you ask though it pains me beyond words and once this child is born, I shall speak to neither of you again. I beg permission to leave." I did not wait for an answer but strode across these marble floors with my head held high, and shoulders back for surely there was a heavy weight now upon my head. I would not look at either the King or Lieutenant as I exited proudly out the doors.

  "Lydia," Loman called after me, but I bolted from his grasp and sprinted from his sight. Racing across the building and up the flight of stairs, I ran into my rooms and quickly locked the door. I flung myself upon my bed and shut the curtains tight. I screamed, I wept, and I pounded on the pillows and picked up my lamps and thrust them upon the floor. Then, I jumped from my bed and crossed the room grabbing everything I could find and heaving it against the walls. In a matter of minutes, my floor was covered in glass, my windows were shattered, and my curtains were ripped beyond repair. My gowns were torn and my jewelry unstrung, but a plan was hatched in my brain and I knew what I must do.

  From my closet, I found my warmest cloak and put on the same boots that I had worn the night before. Grabbing a hat and gloves and pocketing some jewels and coins, I rushed out to my deck. I was in such a hurry and not watching my step that I slipped upon the ice and went tumbling down the stair. I landed flat on my back, cushioned in snow, my face pointed upward at the sky. I wasn't sure at that moment whether
it was fortunate or not that I had avoided breaking my neck.

  "What are you doing?" A voice said as I lay there in the snow, studying the stars and two moons which bathed me in their light. My brother stood upon his own balcony with Phylyp at his side.

  "An odd time to be making Snow Angels, Lydie," Phylyp taunted, but his voice sounded thick with tears.

  "You heard?" I asked, still staring at the stars, making no effort to extricate myself from the snow.

  "Of course, we heard," my brother snapped.

  "We shall kill your brat," Phylyp added, "before he ever takes a breath."

  "Or if he does, I'll kill him then, on the moment of his first cry. I shall thrust my dagger into his heart and twist it until it's torn to shreds."

  "Akan," I shouted, now clambering to my feet. "How can you say this about a child that would share your own blood? It's not my choice! I don't want him either but surely…"

  "He has stolen my birthright" my brother interrupted. "He has taken what is mine. I shall do what I must to get it back."

  There was no alternative, the message was clear. I knew what had to be done. To spare this child an early death, I must ensure that he had no life.

  "I love you, Akan," I called to my brother, "despite your cruel words. Tell Mother, I love her too." Then I trudged through the snow drifts as high as my knees and cold as my soul and wet as my tears, searching for a place where I would not be found to escape the destiny before us.

  I had only been once in the streets of Old Mishnah while walking behind my mother, the Queen. I remember carrying flowers past the cordoned off crowds who stood waiting with outstretched hands. My mother placed coins in them and bid everyone well although her wishes fell short on those with ragged clothes and no teeth. Their skin shone with sickness, their hair lank and dirty. The buildings we passed were cluttered with filth. I could hardly wait to leave then and wished not to return yet now I found myself here among them, wandering these same streets. This night disguised the foulness. The lamps cast a golden glow upon the sparkling snow which hid the wretchedness beneath. The people even looked jolly as they stood by the fires made in refuse drums, warming their hands and feet.