The Hated (Sleeping With Monsters Book 3)

by Cassie Alexander

  “What is it, my Queen?” Beza asked, looking over my shoulder at the thing. It folded open in all sorts of places and had strange and rough designs.

  “I don’t know.” I hid it inside my dress, along with the shard of pottery I held. Maybe I could ask Yzin about them.

  “The council waits, my Queen,” Joshan said, offering me his hand. I took it, stepped around the zoomers that now outnumbered the pottery shards, and made my way outside.

  When I reached my council chamber, I could hear my counselors talking outside the chamber door. They weren’t speaking my tongue, but I understood it all the same. I assumed they had their own language, just as the lilans spoke to one another in their cages, like calling like. I had wondered how come I could understand them, though, and not the lilans. As a child, I’d have found understanding lilani far more interesting.

  “Must we?” I heard Yzin ask.

  “You know we must,” Railan answered. “You should want this more than anyone.” And then one of them rapped on the door three times, the doors opened, and the entering ceremony began.

  It was always the same. Servants paced in, singing that I embodied all that was magic and holy in the world, how my beauty shone through the ages, and how being in my presence was like being in the light of the sun.

  As I had never seen the sun, I had to take their word for it.

  I waited my turn, then walked to my throne on a dais in the center of the room. The council members fanned out around us, each flanked by two servants, walking at a stately pace. Overhead, the glass stalactites glowed in warm shades, and the screens lining the walls showed pictures from Aranda’s countryside, gentle scenes of mountains, oceans, and distant towns, the countryside and cityscapes I ruled.

  I had begged to visit them as a child, and been told I was too precious to leave the palace, even for a moment. In time I’d come to accept that the pictures of Aranda were all I’d ever see.

  Railan finished his walk last to come and kneel at my feet, his red robes dragging behind him and long sleeves spooling out. I noticed, not for the first time, that his robes were embroidered with gold lilans in flight, and wished there were a way for me to see such a thing. The ones in my cages all had clipped wings.

  I waited a long moment, looking around at my councilmen, their golds and purples, sashes and headwraps set with jewels, kneeling one by one. Last of these was my Yzin, who was having problems performing the task.

  “Please, stand,” I implored him, at seeing him struggle to bend down.

  He looked at me with a face tracked with so many lines it could have been on the wall of the Map Room, and pressed a hand to his chest. “My Queen, I am humbled by your consideration.”

  “As I am by your presence,” I said in return, pressing a hand to my own.

  Railan cleared his throat, looking over at his fellow councilmember dourly, before looking up at me. “Queen Ilylle,” he announced.

  “High Councilman,” I acknowledged him.

  “You are well, yes?” he asked, eyebrows high. He sounded sincere, but I thought I detected the hint of a smirk in his tone.

  Could they tell what I’d done with Beza and Joshan? Did they know? I bit the inside of my lip, and then set my shoulders. It didn’t matter if they did. I was royal, and inside the palace I could do as I liked.

  “I am very well, as always. How could I be otherwise, with you at my feet?”

  Railan blinked at this response, and I stifled a smile as he pressed on. “We are here to inform that the celestitians have decreed the date of your King’s arrival – you are to be married eleven days from now, on Tide’s Day.”

  It was my turn to blink. “I…am?”

  Railan nodded gravely. “We wanted to give you time to ready yourself. You already know the traditions you have to uphold.”

  I’d read about the ceremony a thousand times – the day of ceremonial bathing, incense, prayers, and then my wedding to the statue in the chamber. A choir would sing, I would join their song, and he would come back to life. Together, we would go on to rule Aranda side-by-side.

  It was only at the back of one of Yzin’s most recently gifted screens that I’d found a different tale, one that insinuated that what woke their Zaibanns wasn’t a Queen’s singing, but her taking his hard stone cock into her soft dark place. The thought both horrified and thrilled me.

  “Does this please you, my Queen?” Railan asked, with a look of concern.

  I roused from my thoughts and quickly smiled down. “Of course it does. It is how it has always been, is it not?”

  “Indeed.” Railan nodded again and stood. “We have a new screen for you to read, Queen of Dreams.”

  “You do?” I forgot to hide my excitement. It had been a long time since their last request.

  “We do,” Yzin said, kindly. He handed it over and it lit up at my touch. My eyes skimmed the words – these screens were the only communications I had with my people. The people of Mazaria – a southernly region – were rioting, and needed to be calmed.

  “But – why?”

  Railan stepped nearer, and pressed both his hands to his chest. “A terrible drought has caused crops to fail. Certain officials tried to hide the extent of the disaster, and our response has been correspondingly slow.”

  “But now? We’re doing all we can?”

  “Of course, my Queen. Supplies are being sent. We just need them to be patient.”

  Yzin smiled at me. “Not even the Queen of Dreams can control the weather.”

  I swallowed and nodded, standing up so that my voice would ring clear, as the lights on the glass stalactites brightened. I held up the screen and read what it said. “To the people in Mazaria, please calm yourselves. Your officials are doing what they can to remedy your situation. Be prepared to present identification to officials when asked, and stay indoors after dark.” The official message ended there, but I continued. “I promise you that supplies are being sent. Be patient, and know that I think of you.”

  I sat down as the lights faded -- and could see that Railan’s jaw was clenched. “Dearest Queen, you’re supposed to say what it says on the screen, no more, no less.” His voice was high, speaking to me as he had when I was a child.

  “No harm was done,” Yzin said. The other councilmembers looked to one another and muttered expressions of shock and dismay.

  They were…upset with me? But – they were in my palace. And I was Queen. I handed Railan his screen back primly. “Was there anything else, High Councilman?”

  “No, of course not, Great Queen.” He took the screen and folded it into a pocket. “We shall see you again at Tide’s Day.”

  “I’m already looking forward to it,” I said with a gracious nod.

  He left the first gift in the basket near my feet. It was a scepter, a simple gold tube with an emerald the size of an eye at the end. The others dropped off their gifts one by one, wishing me health and prosperity as I wished it back on them. A pile grew, a wreath of what were no doubt exotic lilies, two silver tskiss trapped in an appropriately silver cage, a rug of gold embroidered with silver and hung with nightdark beads, and more gemstones, each carved more elaborately than the last. I pretended to be pleased to accept them, all the while knowing that once the zoomers had cleaned and organized the chamber I might never see them again, that they would be lost in the other piles of rugs and gemstones and flowers the Feather Palace held.

  Finally, only Yzin was left. He, as always, held out a screen.

  “What is it today?” I asked, while reaching into my pocket for the pottery. My fingers brushed the other object that I’d stolen from the zoomers. I would have brought it out, but other council members still stood nearby and I only wanted to show it to Yzin.

  He pressed his wrinkled hand to the back of the screen. “A new story, written just for you.”

  I could not tell him what his gifts meant to me while the others were near, but I hoped he could read it in my eyes. His stories occupied my mind in a way that none o
f the baubles the other Council members gave me could.

  “Thank you,” I said, with feeling.

  “You’re very welcome, my beautiful dear,” he said.

  I brought the pottery shard out before he could step back. “We broke this. Was it important?”

  He took the piece and eyed it carefully. “I don’t know, child. I can research it for you and come back, however.”

  “Please do.”

  He nodded and smiled and tucked it into one of the pockets of his own robe, and then followed the rest of the council members on their way out. I sat still on my throne until the doors closed behind him and I was left inside the Feather Palace alone with just my servants again.

  I’d tried to follow the Council out more than once as a child. I’d been prone to impertinent questions then, always asking why?, and how come? It wasn’t until Yzin had started teaching me that I began to understand the way that things were done, and learned that even a Queen could not change certain things, no matter how much she might long to.

  I stirred the gifts they’d given me with a toe. Zoomers would be here soon – I stood and took the scepter after a second thought.

  Tide’s Day – just eleven days. Would things change then? Yzin’s books never said what happened after the ceremony, and he’d never satisfactorily answered when I’d asked him. Everything he’d given me to read recently had been fiction, not history. He always said it was because my King and I would set our own course and rule as we desired.

  What if we desired to leave the palace? Would it be allowed then? Surely I would be safe outside the palace’s doors with my King at my side. He was a warrior, after all.

  I walked down the halls wondering on this, and when I would next get a chance to privately ask Yzin, slowly heading back to my great chamber, past my King’s open door. I paused again to look in at him, taking in his form, remembering that first night with Joshan. I felt a low pull, the beginnings of my magic stirring deep inside of me, and stepped inside.

  “Do you know that in eleven days you’ll be my King?” I asked him. I’d taken to addressing him as a person as a way to alleviate my fears. Who was he? What kind of man would he be, once released from stone?

  I’d been wondering those questions for months now, ever since the celestitians had chosen him. There were five thousand stone warriors trapped in their chamber far below – how did they know he was mine?

  Zoomers the size of urshaks had brought him up from the Zaibann Chamber’s depths and carefully placed him in this room – a room until then whose emptiness I had never questioned, in retrospect. All of the council members were present, along with their families and selected slaves, and there’d been a great feast at the long table set up in the room in front of him. He stood, and I sat beside him, and everyone cheered and chatted and was kind to me – even Railan. I was unused to so many people talking to me all at once, but it was delightful. Everyone was so happy for me, how could I not be happy for myself?

  It was only later during the terrible silence after their departure that I could hear myself think enough to have questions – questions that had never been answered since.

  At the time, I thought I had to trust in my council. But soon after that I learned about my magic on the floor in this room – and now I was learning to trust in it, too.

  Which was why when it brought me into the Zaibann’s chamber I didn’t question it. I stood there, looking up at him as I often had. He would be someone to talk to, to dance with, to sleep by at night. I wondered about so much of him – how he’d act, who he’d be – what it would feel like to be near him. I wondered too if, in his own slow-stone way, he was equally curious about me.

  “Are you ready to live again?” I asked. Of course he didn’t answer.

  He’d seen us in this room before, playing, practicing – as much as anyone who was stone could – but this time I wanted him to see just me.

  I set the screen down but held onto the scepter. This was definitely not why Railan had gifted it but my magic wouldn’t be denied. Not when it was thrumming inside of me like a lilan’s note, long and pure. I lay down on the floor in front of the warrior, and unfastened my dress from the top to the bottom. It fell upon the floor beneath me, showing me to him like an unwrapped present.

  He’d seen me naked in front of him before – but I’d never showed him that I was ready to be his Queen. Not like this.

  I waved for his attention with the scepter, feeling silly and feeling brave, and then slowly brought the emerald bulb to my lips to feel its chill. Then I rolled it down, rubbing it against my nipples in turns, spinning it so that what was hot became cold, and what was cold became hot. My magic started growing inside my hips, that feeling of aching and longing that needed release.

  I brought the gemstone up to my mouth and kissed it, taking it in, sucking on it, until it was warm and wet, and then I pushed it down to my own petals where Beza had rubbed me not long ago. The stone was smooth perfection and as I nudged myself with it my hips began to rock in arcane time. My magic moved inside of me and I moaned at feeling it, listening to the sound of my pleasure echo in the chamber.

  I changed my grip on the scepter and pushed it lower, until it was nestled outside my soft place, and with a few smooth strokes I pushed it in. I startled at the cool straightness of the scepter’s shaft, but my magic roiled again, and soon I stroked madly, half-lidded eyes looking up, imagining that it was him.

  Yes – it was cold – but – I could – my magic -- in my dark place – make it hot – and wake him. I closed my eyes tight and imagined his transformation as I rocked the emerald in and out, seeing him come to life, the color of his stone changing like the mountains at dawn, until he was leaning over me, taking me himself. The vision of it was so real that I didn’t feel the scepter anymore or know it was my own hand, it was him, mounting me, thrusting, and I released with a soft shout, imagining him falling over me, a creature of flesh instead of stone, shouting himself in my ear, suffused with the power of my magic.

  My magic curled me up again and again, pulsing through me until I collapsed, exhausted. I kept my eyes closed until it was finished, trying to write the future with my imagination, before I pulled the emerald out of my tightness with a low groan.

  “And that’s how I will wake you,” I said, finally looking up. His countenance had not changed in the slightest. “And after that, they will take us off to another palace, where you and I will rule forever and a day, just like all the screens promise.”

  I smiled up at him and turned over to fall asleep on the floor under the ever-watchful eyes of my King.

  Chapter Two

  I woke inside the dream-cradle with a pain in my hip. Its walls were currently pulsing a pleasing shade of purple supposed to, I thought, entice me to stay inside of it longer. But every time I woke up inside of it, I was more tired than when I went in – I rose up and pushed the lid open, finding Joshan waiting right outside.

  “To your bed, my Queen?” he suggested.

  “Please.” He reached in and swooped me up from the cradle, carrying me across the room to lie atop my bed -- it was massive and had metal posters that rose up like trees with mechanical lilans nestled in all the branches to chime pretty songs. Despite my bed being bigger, the cradle out-massed it somehow, taking up one whole corner of my chamber, conduits snaking out of it in all directions, sinking into the floor and up into the ceiling. The cradle looked like a cocoon which, I supposed, made me its butterfly, only I never felt very pretty upon leaving it. It was right though, to sleep there – I was the Dream Queen, and sleeping in the cradle was how I fed the people of Aranda, with the essence of my dreams.

  Except I hadn’t been doing a very good job of it, if Mazaria was starving. I knew the feeding was metaphorical, though the spirit of the land was my spirit – it was yet another reason why I couldn’t leave the palace. Secretly I chafed at the responsibility – and maybe that’s why they were starving? Because I didn’t give as freely of my love as I
used to? I hoped not.

  Joshan returned to my bedside, with the screen and scepter he’d found beside me in front of the Zaibann. “My Queen, would you like me to stay here?”

  I – I didn’t know what I wanted right now. But the pain in my hip persisted – I reached into my robes and found the strange object I’d rescued from the zoomer yesterday. Was it just yesterday? I looked at the pattern the light made on the walls – it was morning now, I’d been in the cradle overnight. Days inside the palace were hard to follow, and I needed to count them now, with Tide’s Day coming – I pulled the object up and out and looked at it.

  It looked…like a screen. Like a broken screen, one that only showed one page at a time. It took me a moment to realize what it was, my brain still slowed from the cradle – but I thought I held a book.

  I showed it to Joshan. “Have you ever seen anything like this?”

  He took it, inspected it, then gave it back. “Never, my Queen.”

  Neither had I. But I had read of them before, on screens, ironically. I flipped from page to page, looking to find meaning. I was sure it was covered in words from their placement, but none of them made any sense to me.

  “Would you like food, my Queen?” Joshan offered.

  “Please,” I said, waving him away.

  By the time he returned, I was no nearer understanding it but more certain that it was meant to be understood. No one would have taken so much time to draw so many symbols if they had no meaning – this wasn’t a robe or a rug for mere adornment. Someone had handwritten this book with care, and if it was as old as the vase it’d been found in what kind of stories would it tell?

  I wanted to know. I stared at the words, willing them to mean something to me, waiting for something in my mind to shift so that I could decipher them. When that didn’t work I looked around the room for something, anything, that could help me, and Joshan walked in.

  My servant set a tray of food on a nearby table and bowed before leaving again.

  “Joshan – wait.”

  He wheeled on one heel, looking back. “Yes, my Queen?”