Page 4 of Pawns of Salistya
It’s not that I don’t enjoy being out and about at night – in the Solista Isles this was a very common way of living – but I needed to provide myself an opportunity to explore Arlom and return home frequently undetected. Also, sometimes a girl just needs some time to herself. For me, this time is needed every day. Some may say I was anti-social, but I call it self-care. And maybe I am a tad selective as to who I spend my time with outside of royal obligations, but people are exhausting.
With a final, longing glance as the sun disappeared for the day. I left the balcony and headed towards my bed. Mer had laid out a pair of casual high-waisted moss green culottes and a cropped t-shirt that fell just below my chest, revealing a sliver of my stomach. It was a strategic pairing by Mer. The Queendom of Salistya’s royal colour is moss green, so it was always wise that, as the Queen of Arlom, I show up to the Isles in an outfit reflecting my origins. Even knowing where the Solistan loyalties lie, it’s wise to never assume I have unequivocal support as the most powerful mage in Fyriane. I may despise my father and his hideous lessons growing up, but if there was one thing I took away from them, it was to not trust anyone. ‘Everyone has their own motives,’ he would say, ‘spies are around every corner you turn, and when you think you can trust someone? That’s when you can’t.’
Now, I wouldn’t say I didn’t trust anyone, but I damn well made it difficult for others to earn it. If my own sister, my own blood, can fuck me over by taking me away from the love of my life and completely changing my life course, why wouldn’t someone else try? So, my outfit was just another way of reaffirming my loyalties.
A voice interrupted my thoughts, becoming increasingly louder the closer it got to my door.
‘Now, I don’t want anyone disturbing us tonight. It will be a tradition for the Queen and I to have a girl’s night on this holiday. Anyone who does disturb us is subject to the Queen’s wrath. Do you hear me?’ Silence reined before a confident, ‘Good’, ended what appeared to be a one-sided conversation held by Meredith.
A single knock was the only warning I had before Meredith hurried into the room holding two bottles of champagne and glasses. Clearly, she was ready for her party for one – I don’t envy future Meredith and her hangover. It’s lucky that problem is strongly sitting in the ‘her issue’ category.
Shutting the door before any guards could see my clothing, Meredith not-so-gracefully plopped herself onto the daybed.
‘So,’ Meredith started, blinking innocently at me, ‘Since you’re getting your rocks off tonight, I’m hoping you left one of your fabulous books for me? You know, of the erotic kind. Guy chases girl, girl denies him, he fights harder to win her over, she eventually gives in, sexy times occur and all that good stuff.’
Huffing out a laugh, I finished putting on my sandals and straightened up. ‘Left bedside table, bottom draw.’
‘Oh, you’re a doll.’ Eyes lighting up like they had the one time she had won a card game against our friend, and fellow Sol member, Rynelle, Meredith raced over to the bedside table.
‘And you’re a deviant. You know the rules: bath water flowing so no one can hear that it’s just you having a drunken erotic party for one; stay away from the balcony; and you’re restricted to the daybed for your evening activities,’ I state on autopilot as I give myself a quick once over in the mirror. I have, in fact, gone through the rules routine too many times to count. We had established early on that the best way to ensure my visits home weren’t discovered was to pretend that Mer and I were having a night in together. Sureit looked odd being she was meant to be my maid, but so far the Arlomans had chalked it up to being a weird Salistyan thing.
Meredith rolled her eyes. ‘Yes, Mum. Gosh you used to be fun. This is how I know you need alone time with him. How long has it been anyway? Two months?’
‘I stopped counting when it became depressing,’ I muttered.
Lying back on the daybed with the fabulous book in hand, Meredith opened a champagne bottle. Deciding to completely forego the glass, she took a massive swig straight from the bottle. It reminded me of the fourteen-year-old girl I met all those years ago, a complete juxtaposition from the lethal assassin she has become.
After chugging what looked like a good quarter of the bottle, Meredith looked up. ‘Alright, get your sexy ass out of here. Everything is under control, and I’m two seconds away from finding the best parts of this book and having a good old time. I know it hasn’t been that long since we were in the barracks, but I’d like to think we’ve moved past sharing common spaces for moments such as these. But if you want to take a trip down memory lane, be my guest and take a seat.’ With a wink, Meredith proceeded to open the book.
‘Thanks, Mer, I’ll see you in the morning just before the sun rises.’
Before turning to leave, I couldn’t help but add some snide to my goodbye. ‘Oh, and Mer?’ I said innocently.
‘Mmm?’ She didn’t even look up, too engrossed in finding all the good stuff.
‘Remember; you’re my maid and must clean all the sheets tomorrow. If there’s shit out of place, you can count on all your gold that I will spontaneously decide all areas of my royal quarters need a deep clean.’ I smirked.
Looking up with an expression on her face that promised revenge, Mer grabbed the champagne bottle and was about to throw it directly at me. ‘You little …’ but I was faster. Saying a quick, ‘Love you,’ I was still laughing as I swiftly teleported out of the room and straight to my real home.
Chapter 3
Muggy air enveloped me immediately and a relieved breath of air escaped from my body. I had landed at the same spot I always did when teleporting to the Isles, in the heart of the Temple of Wystia. While other mages teleporting from the mainland to the Isles had to arrive just outside of the Temple, I had the luxury of skipping the ten-minute walk to reach this spot. Even after receiving their gifts, mages were unable to access them inside the Temple, meaning physical presences couldn’t be detected and teleportation straight here wasn’t possible. Inside the Temple, I am the only mage able to use my gifts, I suspect likely due to my strength. Not that there was a lot of action to be had here as it was a place for worship, not warfare.
Every morning, the Solistan’s gather here to pray, to acknowledge the Goddess Wystia and to give thanks for their gifts. As a trainee, I was forced to come here with everyone else and follow this ritual. Sure, I was thankful for my magic, but did I really need to worship the Goddesseveryday to show my gratitude? I wasn’t sold on the notion then, and I still wasn’t now.
The centre of the Temple hadn’t changed at all since the first time I saw it. The large room looked like an amphitheatre, with a flat, central area enveloped within an ascending circular rock formation that acted as seats. They were able to hold up to three hundred people, which was a bit excessive, really, considering when I was gifted my magic there was a total of five people bearing witness to it, none of whom were trainees. It was the second new moon that month, a rare occurrence. The Solistan’s called it a black moon, and I was the only one who received gifts under that new moon, having been the only one to turn sixteen in time.
Raising my eyes, I took in the looming statue of Wystia in the centre of the large room. I may not buy into the frequency of worshipping, but there were Solistan customs that I did follow. I kneeled, kissed my three middle fingers and placed them on the foot of the statue. ‘For the doers, the defenders, and the dreamers. To the devoted, the divisive, and the divine.’ I stood, bowing my head and moved my fingers to my chest. ‘For the Goddess Wystia, and the Queendom of Salistya.’ Lifting my head, my eyes closed, I placed my middle fingers on my third eye. ‘Protect our family.’
I felt a surge of power run through me from where my fingers were placed on my third eye. Time stopped, the power holding my body upright, while showing me a vision of bright, fuchsia eyes and the outline of a body that was undoubtedly male. The rest of the vision was dark and the man stood completely still, staring straight at me so it was impossible to distinguish any further, notable features.
When I was gifted my magic, I developed what I’ve named my ‘knowing’. It tells me when someone is lying, diverts my attention away from a particular course if it doesn’t serve me, or warns me against betrayal. It isn’t active at all times like my physical senses, which I learnt to shut on and off during training on the Isles. Instead, I can generally call upon it when required. But sometimes, like now when I felt a caress in my mind, as though someone was asking to come in, my knowing kicked in unexpectedly, letting down a mental guard I wasn’t aware was up.
I saw another flash of the fuchsia eyes, this time with a gleam of satisfaction in them. Before I could speak, a force pushed my eyes open. I was still standing at the foot of the statue, fingers placed to my third eye. Removing them from my brow, the surge of power I felt seemed to move, rippling up and down my neck before settling on the triangular Royal Mark below my ear in a humming, soothingly warm pulse.
The Royal Marks, much like a tattoo, were present from birth on every person in a royal family. Where the Salistyan’s was a triangular shape pointing to the back of the body, the Nyarellean royals bore the same pattern pointing to the front. The Arlom Kingdom’s was a line curving up at the ends, while the Marlyst’s mark was the opposite with the line curving down. I’d never understood the origin of these marks, or how they came to be. All I knew was that each Dom’s was unique.
I took a step back from the statue, shaking my arms and looking around. Nothing was out of place, no Mazyr or Rynelle around pulling a prank on me. But I didn’t need that confirmation to know my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me. I still felt the power humming below my ear, and feeling like a gateway had been opened in my mind.