The following is an original work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this book/story are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.The following is intended for mature audiences only.
Chapter 6
“It suits you, Zahrra,” Herra said without much conviction or specification.
Once again, I found myself in front of my full-length mirror. My focus bouncing between my tattooed arm and my masked face. All the changes in such a short time, I was having a difficult time reconciling it all.
This was the first time I was able to see my masked reflection. The dark gray certainly lightened the steel in my own irises. Causing the small flecks of gold smattered about to stand out. The auburn of my thick head of hair looked more mahogany, losing most of the amber highlights. But this was not the only mask I would have to wear. Oh no, that would be the equivalent of wearing the same gown to court twice in a row. Blasphemous.
Most of the other mask options that had been delivered to my chambers for the foreseeable future, showed a bit more face and came in a variety of colors. None showed more than my chin and bottom inch of my jawline.
This was going to need quite some time to adjust.
Ultimately, I didn’t hate it.
Glancing behind my shoulder through the mirror, I watched Herra set a tray of hot tea and delicate cakes on the table near the fire in the sitting room. Rhythmically setting two identical place settings, the nearly thirty-year-old woman hummed lightly to herself.
The apples of my cheeks hit the mask as I smiled. The first time I mentioned Herra’s humming she looked at me like I was mad and I thought she was joking. Turned out, the woman had no idea she passively hummed while she worked. I never mentioned it again but appreciate every note.
She was only my second lady I have ever had. The first being Herra’s mother who had worked in the castle since before my birth since the women in her family were here out of servitude. She was more nursemaid than servant. Now Herra was more friend.
Like her mother, Herra would remain human. Never allowing myself to think too much on the subject matter. Knowing I would outlive my friend.
Pushing past my own troubling thoughts, I settled into one of the chairs at the small table. Quickly accepting a cup of tea as Herra passed it before busying herself with her own cup.
Without sparring so much as a glance my way, Herra asked, “Why did they choose to mask you now?” Pausing to sit and take a bite, Herra spoke around her mouthful. “I mean, I understand the significance, I suppose. But you’re not engaged, right?” she asked gesturing with her half-eaten biscuit.
Even if my smile was hidden behind my teacup, I was sure Herra could see the amusement in my eyes. Herra may have been groomed since birth to serve, but her mouth never seemed to recognize her training. Maybe it was because she began in the kitchens. My guess, it was just who she was. What others saw as insolence, I recognized as friendship and honesty.
Placing my tea back on the saucer, I sat up straight and lowered my voice to a demur whisper. “In respect to the goddess, Idun. Showing our devotion to her and all the other deities. A small gesture in proving our loyalty in the hopes of her return.” Grabbing a flakey pastry for my own plate, I continued. Making a mockery of my courtly upbringing. “Instead of waiting for my betrothal in a few hundred years, having it placed now seemed fitting.”
“Fitting? Horse manure.” The distaste was plain on Herra’s face. Scrunching as if she ate a sour tart. “Bring her back as if she was wandering about somewhere waiting to be found. As if she or any other god would come back to us without so much as answering her riddle. What they really mean is they haven’t found a single answer in all the looting they’ve been doing.”
Yet another example that hope was getting lost. Herra wasn’t wrong. No other god or goddess has made their presence known since Idun left. Both Fae and Eildun have been scouring Corianth for answers.
After the initial onslaught of the Caedum, both sides focused more on appeasing the gods than killing each other. A scramble for relics and artifacts that remained from when the gods lived in this realm. Hoping something would lead to some knowledge or answer. Two hundred years later and no one was any closer to anything.
For the most part.
I was the first female heir born to the Eildun throne in four millennia. My father thought it was time to try a different approach.
While he didn’t believe the goddess had any idea what was happening in our realm let alone on the largest continent of Corianth. Aesiri’s motives were most likely a bit more sanctimonious. Whatever those motives truly were, I didn’t know. He hid them from me as he did most things. But I highly doubted Idun was his driving factor.
Not having an adequate response to offer Herra that wasn’t redundant and lacking, I took another sip of my tea. Allowing the cup to linger at my lips. Steam seeped under the mask, moisture condensing on the bridge of my nose and upper lip. The sensation made my nose tingle. Reaching up to rub it, fingers met stiff felt instead of flesh.
Sighing out loud, I wondered how long it would take to get used to this barrier. In one swift movement, I pulled the thing over my head and away from me. Placing it on the table to stare up at the ceiling.
The mask can only hide so much.
The prince’s words echoed in my thoughts. Truthfully, I feared the mask would end up hiding more than I was willing to give. In the end, refusing to give anything back.
“Feeling alright?” Herra asked mid bite.
“Rough week,” I answered breathily looking at the dark marks on my arm.
Standing from the table, Herra wiped the crumbs from her hands while looking from me to the mask on the table next to the tray of delicacies. “I’ll draw you a bath,” she stated giving a decisive nod.
A warm bath and good food was Herra’s cure for almost anything. Warm water, soft soapy suds, and sweets had had a profound effect on me in the past. Who was I to argue with such proven methods?
Dragging myself toward the promise of such reaffirming proclivity, my feet dragged as exhaustion began to bog me down. Adding a significant amount of weight to each step.
Shaking my limbs, I rolled my head around my shoulders. “Come on, perk up,” I said trying pep myself up. Then using the words my father would whisper to me before facing anyone, “Have no weakness; show no weakness.”
Worried that tonight showcased how weak I was. How I allowed the prince to affect me as he had. Penetrate my shields and sensibilities. If I would allow myself to think about it more, I’m sure I would be horrified at my body’s reaction. How could I have been so unprepared? It wasn’t as if I could tell anyone what happened. Who knew the consequences.
“It’s not like I spent the day with a sword in my hand,” I said shaking my head hoping to dislodge all thoughts of the night from my brain.
Sure, both society and court were their own type of battlefield, but it wasn’t true combat. That honor was left to others, and I was letting weakness seep in.
Sinking into the water, bubbles resting just under my chin, I absently wondered if I could convince Finneck to give me some training. Teach me to accurately shoot an arrow from a bow, handle a small dagger that could be hidden under the folds of my dress. That certainly would have come in handy this evening.
Maybe he could teach me to wield a sword. A big one.
If I allowed myself to be honest, I wanted to be able to train with the guard. So when the time came, I could lead my people on and off the battlefield. Show them I wasn’t some untouchable royal alighted atop my gilded perch.
It may be in a lolled state at the moment, but the Caedum wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. I longed to be more than a masked figure hidden away.
