Date: Yithi 3rd through Yithi 4th, 1590 - Before The Long Stillness
Briar, Kathera’s mother, seemed to float down the long stone corridor as she led me to my rooms. I couldn’t help but notice the black tattoo, a spiral starting at her wrist. Though her lavender dress covered the rest that led up to her shoulder, it peeked through the sheer fabric of her sleeves—showing how the tattoo split into smaller trails along her skin.
“Why do you have those tattoos?” I followed closely behind her, and my voice echoed off the walls. The only tattoos I had ever seen were the ones from the Pact of Hithis. I tried not to think back to a few days ago when my mother made Castor, Kathera’s father, take the Pact of Hithis for protection. The light from that promise still made my eyes sting.
She didn’t break her stride. “I am Eyglantian; this is a mark every person with Eyglantian blood gets when they turn twelve.”
I stopped in my tracks. “Twelve? That seems so young.” I rubbed my arm, thinking about what it would be like to do that in two short years.
Briar turned to face me, her emerald eyes bright. “To be an Eyglantian is to be one with your people; this is the mark of our people.” She rolled up her sleeve slightly to show the spirals more clearly. “Every spiral is earned through connecting with an elder within the clan; every story they tell you is a story that makes up the history of the Eyglantian people. We put them on our skin to remember where we came from.”
“Oh, how many elders did you listen to?” My voice was small as we began walking again.
“We had fifteen elders in our clan, and I listened to all of them.” She said as we stopped before a solid wood door. Three intricate symbols were drawn above the door. They swooped and curved into what looked like sigils.
“What are those?” I pointed up at the symbols.
Briar smiled. “Protection sigils,” she said simply. “I will teach you when you are older.”
She pushed open the heavy oak door, and the smell of fresh flowers filled the corridor. I walked into a room bigger than most homes in Paesuna.
“I hope you can be comfortable here. I am sorry about Kathera; she didn’t know about her destiny until today. She’ll come around.” Briar said softly before she left, letting the door close behind her.
Three carved wooden chairs circled a small table in the main sitting area, flanked by padded armchairs and tall bookshelves.
In the adjoining bedchamber, a massive bed sat piled high with soft, plush pillows.
It was a sharp contrast to the marble walls and cold corridors.
I sat on the bed and kicked off my shoes. I flung myself back and stared up at the ceiling.
Kathera didn’t know until today that she was meant to be Empress. No wonder she reacted the way she did.
I instantly felt guilty for what I said when I met her.
She didn’t know until today that she was just another girl.
Until a week ago, so was I.
I would give anything to go back to that girl—even if it was odd to miss her. That girl had been so lonely.
I curled up onto my bed, trying to hold my tears in. I couldn’t go back to that girl, but maybe I wouldn’t be lonely anymore.
The next morning, the smell of bacon woke me.
I followed my stomach to the kitchen, where Kathera's family was just sitting down to eat. They crowded around a large round table. Piles of bacon, biscuits, and large pitchers of orange juice sat on the wooden table.
“Good morning!” Roselynn said, taking a drink of her orange juice.
“Morning,” I mumbled, sitting down and piling food onto a plate.
"Kathera won’t come out of her room,” Myron said simply around a mouthful of bacon.
Briar shot him a look. “Don’t worry about Kathera; she’ll come out eventually. Chew with your mouth closed.”
Castor nodded. “Kathera just learned of her destiny. It’s a big thing to accept.”
“What is her destiny?” Roselynn asked, brushing biscuit crumbs off her hands.
Briar cleared her throat. “She will be.” Briar looked up like she was searching for the right word. “Important.”
“Important how?” Myron pressed, pointing a piece of bacon at his mother.
I took a bite of a biscuit.
Briar clearly didn't want them to know. “Why can't they know?” I asked, setting my biscuit down.
Briar chewed slowly, her head cocked slightly to the side as she considered my words.
“Mother says that we shouldn’t lie, that secrets poison your soul,” I said, meeting Briar’s eyes.
“I grew up worshiping the Goddess Canthia; she teaches truth and strength. I can’t simply sit by while the truth isn’t spoken.” I told them even though my heart flew against my ribcage. Should I really be talking to them like this?
Briar paused and looked at me for a moment. After choosing her words, she met Castor's eyes, then looked back at her children. Then she smiled and leaned in, meeting my eyes. “I agree, truth should be spoken loudly. Alright, Myron, Roselynn.” She sat a little straighter as they eyed her; I raised my eyebrows.
“Kathera is meant to be Empress one day,” Briar stated finally.
“What?” Roselynn asked, jumping up and dropping her biscuit onto the stone floor. “That’s crazy! How?”
“The Fates gave me a vision at her birth. I saw her ruling Celentra.” Castor laced his fingers together around a mug.
Myron sat back slightly, then chuckled, “I am still going to play tricks on her.”
Briar laughed, “Nobody said you couldn’t.”
Laughter filled the kitchen for a moment.
“What am I supposed to do?” I asked.
“How about today you just get used to the palace?” Briar nodded towards the door. “Explore; this is your home now.”
I grinned and made my way to the door.
“Let us show you!” Myron yelled, running ahead of me.
Roselynn linked her arm through mine. “There are so many hidden passageways I can’t wait to show you!”
We walked down a long corridor with large pictures. Some paintings were of people; others showed flowers or large canvases of trees and mountains.
One was of a sun with a moon on either side.
“This is the west wing,” Roselynn began. But I wasn’t listening; instead, I was looking out the window at the glowing trees.
Mountains so large they looked like they scraped the clouds. I watched the sun rise. Turning the mountains a slight shade of purple, with orange painting the sky above.
Paesuna had beautiful sunrises, but the mountains against the sky made you feel small in a way that brought comfort.
A sudden pang of guilt hit me—feeling comforted by a sky that didn't belong to my desert home.