After they'd finished with all the normal layers plus a few extra, Sayel reverently held up a full-length jacket of gold wire.
The metal was crocheted in a fillet pattern—more open spaces than metal—that allowed the colors of her outfit to peek through.
"This is the tiral. It's crocheted from spun gold. Isn't it beautiful?"
It was something alright. K'lrsa smiled and nodded. "Very much so."
"This is the formal court garment of the dorana."
He carefully helped her place each of her arms through the long sleeves that extended past each wrist and ended in a fabric loop that Sayel placed over the middle finger of each hand.
It weighed on her shoulders, heavier than it looked.
Sayel had saved the meza for last. He opened a delicate white box to reveal a set of meza woven of gold inside. "Aren't they amazing?"
K'lrsa's stomach clenched at the thought of wearing them, but she managed to nod.
"They were made especially for you. See the blue sapphires? None of the other dorana's meza have these. The Daliph truly favors you." He smiled at her like a proud, doting father.
K'lrsa forced herself to smile back as he bound her fingers, but the whole time she was wondering how she'd be able to attack the Daliph when she finally met him. Between the tiral, the meza, and all the layers of clothing, she could barely walk let alone strike a man hard enough to kill him.
After they finished with her hair and makeup, Sayel stepped forward with a small bottle. "One last touch to make you as beautiful as you can possibly be."
He had her lean her head back and dropped something into her eyes. She blinked at the sudden brightness of the room.
"Don't worry, my dorana, we'll help you. But look how beautiful."
He gestured to the mirror and she saw that her pupils were so large they almost obliterated the brown of her eyes. She looked like a newborn baru—weak and vulnerable.
She shuddered.
Sayel finished by affixing a small golden cuff to the top of her right ear. "You'll receive one for each year you're a dorana. It's your dowry."
She flexed her fingers, feeling the kiss of the meza against her skin, and reminded herself once more why she'd allowed them to do this to her.
All these days of preparation and it was finally time.
She was going to kill the Daliph.
Or die trying.
Chapter 59
K'lrsa walked through the hallways of the palace with Sayel and Morlen on each side, their hands on her elbows to assist her. Herin and Garzel were ahead of them and Tarum behind, but she could barely make out their shapes. The drops had made everything so bright that she kept her eyes almost completely closed.
The tiral surrounded her like a cage.
When she tripped on it for the fourth time, Herin whirled around. "Pzah, child. Just take smaller steps, would you?"
K'lrsa didn't answer, but she did shorten her steps and found that it did help. She hated taking such mincing little steps, but no denying that it worked.
The people they passed were a blur of colors—most brown or tan, with the occasional pop of a single color—a blue belt or red scarf—but never more than that.
No black like Herin wore. Or Badru.
She never had been able to get an explanation for the colors. Sayel had started to tell her once, but Herin had signaled him to silence.
They made their way down a twisting maze of corridors, the beige stone of the walls offset by colored tiles along the top and the bottom—just a blur of red, blue, orange, yellow, green, black, and white to K'lrsa's eyes.
As they turned a corner and saw two giant doors ahead of them, K'lrsa stopped, too dizzy to continue. Sayel had tied the underdress so tight she couldn't manage more than shallow breaths. She tried to pull air into her lungs, but she couldn't get enough. Panicked, she breathed faster, sucking air in and out of her lungs as fast as she could.
The room started to spin.
She swayed and only Sayel and Morlen's grips on her arms kept her upright.
"It's an exciting moment, isn't it? To finally meet your Daliph?" Sayel's bright smile against dark skin filled her vision.
K'lrsa nodded, struggling to breathe.
"We're almost there. Just ahead. See the doors?"
K'lrsa glanced at the double-doors ahead, three times as tall as any man, and patterned with interlacing colors of red, blue, green, yellow, orange, black, and white. People entered through a small side door—all men from what she could tell.
K'lrsa closed her eyes and focused on the Pattern to calm herself, desperately seeking the Core. She repeated the standard phrases until the world finally stopped spinning.
"My Daliph," Sayel cried. The air moved as her poradoma bowed.
At last, she was going to meet her enemy. This was it. The moment she'd dreamt of for months now.
Before K'lrsa could open her eyes, he spoke. "Sayel. Grandmother. What's the meaning of this?"
Badru.
It was Badru's voice.
Badru was the Daliph?
Her eyes flew open. Badru stood before her, his shape hazy, but recognizable. He was dressed in clothing as colorful as hers—reds, blues, oranges, greens, yellows. On each side stood a woman, also dressed in colorful clothing—one mostly in green with yellow woven throughout her accessories, the other mostly in red with orange accents. Both wore the tiral over their clothing.
Behind him four guards in white waited.
K'lrsa swayed, her mouth opening and closing.
No.
No, it couldn't be.
Herin's hand clamped across her mouth before she could speak. "Silence," she hissed.
K'lrsa almost laughed.
What would she say?
Badru, the man she thought she loved, was the Daliph, the man she'd sworn to kill.
Chapter 60
"Omala, what is she doing here?" His voice cut the air like shards of glass.
K'lrsa's poradoma stepped back, leaving K'lrsa, Herin, and Garzel to face Badru and his entourage.
Herin bowed to him. "I decided it was time you met your newest dorana, most honored leader."
"Without consulting me first?"
"Yes." Herin bit the word off, not even flinching back from Badru's anger.
K'lrsa desperately wanted to be able to see his eyes, to read his expression, because his voice sounded so cold, so cruel. But the drops in her eyes had blinded her so all she could do was listen.
She should've known. All those riders outside the city. The way Barkley and Harley had reacted when they saw him. Herin and Lodie and the fact that she'd been made a dorana. How had she missed it?
"Take her back to her rooms. Now. I don't want her here."
Sayel choked back a gasp.
"As you wish." Herin didn't even bow this time.
One of the women at Badru's side giggled and snuggled against him.
K'lrsa pushed past Herin, desperate for a glimpse of Badru's face. "You're the Daliph?" she asked as she finally came close enough to see him, those beautiful blue eyes now flat and cold, more cold than even Herin had ever looked.
For a moment, she thought his gaze softened, but then he looked past her, his jaw clenched. "I said, take her back to her rooms. Now," he roared.
Sayel and Morlen stepped forward to grab her, but K'lrsa twisted away. The movement sent her sprawling to the ground at Badru's feet.
He glanced down at her, his face completely blank, before stepping over her and proceeding to the large double doors.
The dorana who'd giggled before, did so again, her green eyes twinkling with evident amusement before she too stepped over K'lrsa's arm.
The doors opened to a rush of sound from the vast crowd inside the room. Badru stepped into the doorway and the sound ceased, hundreds of men falling silent at the sight of him.
Of their Daliph.
She lay on the floor, watching, as he stepped inside and the doors closed behind him. Her stomach clenche
d so tight she was surprised she didn't throw up.
And then she laughed.
She laughed and she laughed and she laughed until the tears were running down her face, smearing her makeup and washing the blinding drops away.
"Stop it, child. There's no time for that. Morlen, Sayel, get her up. Now."
After they helped her stand, K'lrsa turned to Herin. "Don't you see? It was all a big joke, wasn't it? You were right. It was just the Trickster having his fun. The dreams, the Moon Dance, my father…it was all just one giant prank. The little bastard must be lurking in a corner somewhere laughing his fat little belly off." She raised her voice, "Where are you, you little brat? Show yourself."
Herin closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. "I wish that were true, child." She took K'lrsa's arm in hers and led her back towards her rooms. "Come."
K'lrsa held her chin high as she walked away from the throne room. She turned her back on Badru the way he'd turned his on her.
Sayel walked on her other side, quietly wiping away the one last tear that managed to escape her control.
Badru was the Daliph, but it didn't change things.
She'd sworn a vow.
The Daliph still must die.
Which meant Badru must die.
Chapter 61
As soon as they reached K'lrsa's rooms, she turned on Herin. "You knew."
"Of course I did. And it was about time you did, too."
K'lrsa felt the tears welling up once more. The man she loved…the man she loved was the man responsible for killing the only person who'd ever supported her and encouraged her to be who she wanted to be. The only person who'd ever loved her unconditionally.
She'd spent days trapped in this room, being broken at Badru's orders.
"Oh, stop that." Herin shook her head in disgust. "You're a Rider. Act like one."
K'lrsa sniffed, forcing the tears back. Herin was right. She was a Rider and she needed to start thinking like one instead of like some lovesick fool pining after a man who had never been what she thought he was.
What did she know of Badru? That he had pretty eyes? And soft skin that glowed like the sun? That his mouth was like honey and his hands like fire?
So what.
That was nothing. She thought of her father—of his patience, his kindness, his intelligence. That's what she wanted in a partner and equal.
She'd let a pretty face turn her head. Fool.
"Get this off me." She twitched her shoulders, trying to dislodge the tiral, but it clung to her clothes, refusing to budge. She flexed her fingers but stopped when the meza cut into her thumb.
"I said, get this off me."
No one moved to obey her.
"What?" She squirmed against the confines of her golden cage, more desperate now.
Sayel looked to Herin; so did K'lrsa.
Herin's lips pressed tight together until they disappeared into her wrinkled old face. "We can't. He may want to see you."
"Who?"
"The Daliph. He may want to see you so you need to stay dressed to receive him."
K'lrsa laughed. "After his reaction today, I don't think Badru wants to see me ever again. And I don't want to see him. I'm done being a dorana. Take it back. Take it all back."
Sayel stepped back in surprise. Morlen muttered to Tarum who just glared daggers at her.
Herin shook her head, looking ten years older than she had moments before. "Don't be a fool, girl."
"I don't want this. I don't want any of it. I just want…"
"To go home?" Herin asked into the silence.
"To end this."
She held Herin's gaze. They both knew what she meant.
But Herin continued as if she didn't. "Good. Because you can't go home. You're a dorana of the Daliph of the Toreem Daliphate and will be until he decides otherwise. Best get used to it."
Herin signaled the poradoma to follow and they left, slamming the door behind them.
K'lrsa went to the far window and stared at the courtyard far below, yearning for an end to it all, but unable to act with the weight of the tiral holding her back.
Chapter 62
She spent the rest of the day at the window, gazing up at the mountain. She missed the desert and the way she could see forever in any direction. She longed for the clean, crisp air of dawn and the way the heat hazed her vision at midday.
She longed to lie with her head in her mother's lap and hear how everything was going to be all right, to know that she was loved and protected.
But she wasn't.
And nothing would ever be all right again.
By the time Herin and the poradoma returned, she was too exhausted physically and mentally to fight them. She stood still in the middle of the room as they removed the tiral. Sayel looked like he'd been crying, his eyes red and puffy.
"What of the Daliph?" she asked, quietly.
Sayel glanced at her and then away, apologetic. "He sent word. He won't see you."
"Good."
Herin paced the room. "Pzah. You fool. You know so little."
Sayel cleared his throat. "Omala, we've listened to your directions on how to train this dorana, but we've failed. He won't have her now. Unless we act to fix her."
K'lrsa flinched at the way Tarum studied her, his eyes caressing her body, not even trying to hide his lust.
Had it come to this?
Herin waved Sayel away. "Oh, he wants her still. Be assured of that."
Tarum looked away, clearly disappointed. K'lrsa felt a rush of relief, quickly followed by a hot surge of anger.
Since when had her life become subject to the lusts of men? Badru or Tarum, what gave them the right to dictate her life because they did or didn't want her?
She clenched her fists. She needed to stop letting everyone push and pull her where they would. The meza bit into her skin, reminding her just how much of a prisoner she was.
Trapped in the Daliph's palace. In this room. Bound and constrained. Her every movement watched. Her every action dictated by someone else.
"So what now, Herin?" she asked.
Herin sat on the stone bench, her shoulders slumped. "I don't know. The Daliph will decide."
"Decide what?"
"Whether to keep you."
Sayel flinched even though he'd just said the same a moment before.
"And if he chooses not to?" K'lrsa tried to hide her trembling, but her hands betrayed her, vibrating with fear.
Herin met her eyes, but didn't answer.
Slaves entered the room, carrying trays of food; two closed the windows, locking K'lrsa back in her cage.
As Tarum helped her to the cushions, his hands lingered a little more than before. K'lrsa wondered what Badru would do.
Would he reject her now? Send her away?
The boy of her dreams wouldn't. The boy who'd held her close as she cried, the one whose body matched hers so perfectly, who danced with her on the desert sands—that boy would never hurt her.
But the Daliph? The man who'd stared at her with dead eyes and stepped over her as if she was nothing—that man was capable of anything.
So, which was he? The young man she loved? Or the leader she hated?
Chapter 63
K'lrsa thought Badru would come to her that night. That he'd apologize for his coldness, tell her it was all an illusion, remind her how much he loved her and cared for her.
But he didn't.
She stayed up all night, watching the shadows under the door, waiting for his steps to block out the light, but he never came.
As the sun snuck his rays through the window blinds to cast the room in soft gray light, she realized the truth.
That boy she'd met—the one who filled her dreams, the one she'd thought was her soul mate, so perfect and wonderful. He didn't exist. He was just a trick sent to distract her.
All that passion, those moments they'd spent together, they weren't real. They were dreams. Illusions. Her own longing for a true equal had
blinded her to the truth. Badru was a beautiful but callous man who didn't actually care about her.
Sure, he'd held her as she cried for her father. But maybe the whole time he'd been holding her, he'd been laughing inside, knowing that his men had been the ones to bring her those tears. Maybe he'd listened, secretly amused by her trusting innocence.
And now that she knew the truth, the game was over. He'd just move on to his next victim and charm that girl the same way he'd charmed K'lrsa.
She collapsed to the floor, exhausted, bone weary after two nights without sleep and too many days of being beaten down, her sense of self destroyed.
She sat like that for a long time, pitying herself, hating herself for being so blinded, so foolish. Her mother had been right about her. She was just a foolish girl who didn't know anything and couldn't do anything special.
She certainly couldn't avenge her father by killing one of the most powerful men in the world.
As her thoughts spiraled downward, ever more negative, a small part of her fought back.
What was this? Was she her father's daughter or not?
Because her father's daughter would never quit so easily. That girl would never believe herself incapable of anything
Her father's daughter had spent days hunting the baru, days practicing with Fallion and her bow, until she accomplished what no one else had ever accomplished.
Her father's daughter was a Rider. A woman who would fight until she won.
She stood, chin held high.
She knew Father Sun and Lady Moon were far away, left behind in the desert.
She knew she was alone.
But it didn't matter.
She didn't need anyone except herself.
She took every girlish dream, every swooning thought of Badru and his beautiful eyes, and crushed them until nothing was left.
Badru was dead to her now. He was nothing. No one.
But the Daliph, the Daliph was still very much alive.
And he still needed to die for what he'd done to her father.
And her tribe.
Rider's Revenge (The Rider's Revenge Trilogy Book 1) Page 20
