Several days had passed since the incident in the night, and although the servants had not dared to raise their eyes up to Alanis, their gaze retained a thirst for the man of the sea – though they feared greatly that it should be discovered and did not act upon it.
Yet the man of the sea himself, whose name was Cassiel, despite being the subject of attention in the household, maintained his secrecy. He was rarely seen during the day; perhaps a lucky glimpse might catch the train of his robe disappearing into the library, or soft footsteps retreating behind a rhododendron bush – yet to chase after him yielded nothing but dismay. The nature of the sea to conceal its secrets was certainly not exempt from him.
Occasionally, Alanis would find him in the drawing room by the roaring fire, with a heap of dusty books piled next to the lounge. He never invited her to join him, but he didn’t protest when one night, she did.
“May I ask what you are reading?”
“The Chronicles of Silthia and Alathia; the genealogy of the monarchy.” Was the murmured reply.
“That’s a bit boring, isn’t it?” Alanis sank down to the wool rug next to his feet, the warmth of the fire running over her exposed arms.
“Quite the contrary.”
She watched as he flipped through the faded pages with enamoured interest. “The Kingdom of Alathia has long been separated from us; they haven’t come ashore for many years; you must know that. These records are centuries old.”
“They are.”
“Cassiel?”
He sighed, “yes?”
“You never told me where you’re from.”
“The sea.” His hesitancy spoke more than his words.
“Clearly, you were half fish when I found you. But I’ve never seen a slaughter like that before.”
“A familial conflict.” He snapped the book shut abruptly, “political troubles. I’m sure you can understand.”
“Silthia has not seen Merfolk for a hundred years.” Alanis frowned, “and suddenly hundreds of their soldiers wash ashore – and you, decked in finery and gold, speaking our language perfectly? I just simply don’t understand.”
Cassiel closed his eyes and leaned against the back of the lounge. “It pains me to recall; I would rather not.”
“Do you know what happened to the Kingdom of Alathia after the separation?”
“If you are worried of impending danger, you need not. They will not come ashore, your Grace.”
Your Grace.
He had not called her by name. Alanis narrowed her eyes. “Cassiel, I seek the truth.”
“The truth will find you.” He muttered idly, “but not today. And not tomorrow. It’s too soon.”
“Soon for what?”
“I overheard your servants discussing a rather important event, do not think you can hide that.”
“Excuse me?”
“A visit to the Prince of Ecasia.” Cassiel opened his eyes lazily to gaze at her, “quite the charmer; I’ve heard.”
“The celebration has not been fully confirmed.”
“The servants are preparing the carriages as we speak.”
Alanis pulled her knees to her chest, staring deeply into the ochre fire. “We wait for the ravens to confirm departure.”
“You do not sound very pleased.”
“No.” She pursed her lips, “my father, the King believes it time for my betrothal.”
“A betrothal, how interesting.”
“A betrothal indeed.” She whispered.
“You do not sound very pleased about that either.”
“I’m sure you’ve heard of him. The servants are not lacking in gossip.”
“I have.”
“Then you know what he has done; and what he will do to me.”
“I have.”
“But it’s a bit ridiculous of me to prefer being locked up in a tower to being treated like a whore.” She spat bitterly, “a princess must do her duty after all.”
“Perhaps he will not take a liking to you.”
“Every prince has taken a liking to me; a naïve daughter of the King, who wouldn’t?”
“Naïve daughter of the king.” Cassiel repeated slowly, “gorgeous as the sun, but with a mind of childish pleasures. Certainly, the most gullible of them all…”
She glared at him.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he smiled softly, “don’t you see? Your demeanor will enamour them, and you will take their minds hostage.”
“Tthat’s absurd. I am not capable o-”
“Shh.” Cassiel shook his head in bemusement, “you will be Queen one day, Alanis. Might as well learn the game now.”
***
The ravens came at a quarter past midnight, confirming the location and date of arrival – with instructions for Alanis to bring the ‘creature of the sea’ with her. The court wished to see it for themselves, to confirm its existence; so, they claimed.
So, at one in the morning, when the tide had let out enough for the rocky path to be exposed, twelve carriages left from Silthia, crossing the narrow bridge to the inland. At the head of each carriage, were two black mares, with soldiers of gold bearing the flag of Silthia.
The carriages themselves were intricately carved from mahogany. The rims of the doors made of tungsten and iron; the interiors lined with velvet; soft and inviting for a late-night journey along the barren clifftops.
Alanis occupied the first of the carriages, accompanied by Daphne – the youngest of her maidens – and Cassiel, for she did not trust the servants.
Daphne soon succumbed to sleep, and with her mistress’ permission, laid out on opposite the lounge to rest. Alanis remained with Cassiel on the other; thoughts of the celebrations whispering in her mind like a restless torrent of wind.
“Don’t fear.” Cassiel whispered, throwing his cloak around her shoulders as she trembled in the dark, “your people have carried my sword with them.”
“You can’t just stab someone, Cassiel.” She whispered back, “especially not a prince.”
“I will do whatever pleases you, Alanis.”
“It would please me to not start a war, thank you very much.”
“Accidents do happen, and I heard the prince has a fine taste for wine.”
“You can’t simply blame his death on drunkenness. It’s too coincidental to my arrival. And yours.”
“Will not most of the King’s court be in attendance?”
“I am not planning on his demise, Cassiel. Nor should you.” She leaned her head against the window, watching as the crescent moon rode alongside the carriages.
It was too dark to make out the craggy clifftops, but the hiss of the wind and the wailing of seagulls permeated the air, and she knew they had much further to go before the path carved inland, towards Ecasia.
“It would not be moral, after all, to kill a man.” Cassiel mused, “I suppose you are right. Much rather you would suffer a life of torment under the guise of duty and morality.”
“Yes.” Replied Alanis bitterly, “yes, I would.”
They spoke little for the rest of the journey. Alanis drifted often into a light sleep as Cassiel remained awake; ever watching the stars pass by through the narrow window.
It was at the break of dawn, when the horses drew to a pause outside a village. In the distance, snow capped mountains spread ahead of them, and a chill wind tugged at the golden banners of Silthia which hung from the back of every horse.
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
The pause was at request of Alanis, who claimed she could not bear to sit idly, sleeping or otherwise, in a carriage for more than a few hours at a time.
And indeed, as soon as the horses had slowed to a halt, the door of her carriage was opened by guards. At once she was off, skirts in hand, sprinting through the meadow of wildflowers.
None bothered to chase her; there was nowhere for her to run, and escape was not her intention. She fell, breathless, into the flowers, and stared up at the amaranthine sky as the first tendrils of sun crept over the mountain tops.
The entrancing scent of violets, of lilies and lavender elicited memories of another time; a time when her mother was still alive. A time when she was still permitted to live at court, and her mother would order the servants to pack flowers under the wool rugs to mask the smells of the palace, and of the plague.
Once the betrothal with the Prince of Ecasia had been settled, the arrangements for marriage would be begin. She would be allowed back at court once more. She would see her brother again. And she could finally visit her mother’s grave.
“Your grace!” Called out a breathy voice, and Alanis sat up slowly, leaning on her elbows, to see Daphne jumping across the flower field towards her, “your grace, they want to continue on so we will arrive by nightfall.”
With a sigh, Alanis struggled to her feet, and meeting Daphne halfway they turned back to the encampment of soldiers and carriages to continue the tedious journey.
***
The Silthian carriages halted outside the sandstone walls of the palace, waiting as iron gates grated open, and a vast array of fine cladden young servants filed out.
They surrounded the carriages, and seizing the horses from the guards, escorted the entourage into the depths of the palace where the court resided.
The prince of Ecasia was a generous host, and in honour of Alanis’ arrival, kindly skinned and flayed eighteen of his servants and had them displayed in cages along the inside of the walls. Eighteen servants, one life for each year of Alanis’.
She could not bring herself to peer out the window of the carriage as they passed the bodies. Pools of blood shimmered beneath the cages, the smell of it still fresh. Alanis buried her face in her shawl, and feigned tiredness. Her stomach roiled but she bit back on her tongue and stayed quiet, until at last they were past, and the grand entrance came into view.
Stairs of slate grey rock ascended into the heavens, the base of it concealed by smog. It cast a looming shadow over the carriages, and the height of it blotted out the moon so that darkness consumed them. The palace itself was set up into the clouds, with the highest tower stretching its gnarled peak to brush the stars.
The door to her carriage was tugged open, and two butlers in suits of black offered her their gloved hands. Alanis accepted gingerly and was led to the base of the steps; Cassiel and Daphne behind.
From amidst the smog, a desolate figure emerged on the stairs, shorter in most regards, to all who surrounded him, but with a demeanor as furious and wicked that what he lacked in physicality, he made up for in terror.
“Good evening, your Grace.” Said the prince of Ecasia with a tone so dead she felt as if a corpse addressed her.
His eyes were equally as dead, resembling lumps of coal more than anything else. His skin was pale and cakey, as if physicians had smeared chalk over his complexion to mask boils or other revolting afflictions. Simply by being in his presence, Alanis felt just as sickly as he looked.
“Good evening, my Lord.” She returned and hastily averted her eyes.
He remained on the last of the stairs, so that he was slightly above her, and so that she could see the hilt of his sword peeking out under his cape.
“I see you have brought many of your entertainers with.” He pointed a lithe finger at the servants behind her, but hesitated and dropped his hand. “And you have brought a man unlike them too. A lover?”
Alanis scoffed, “my specimen from the sea.”
“That is no fish.”
“No.”
“Curious.” The prince paused, then gestured for his servants, “bind this creature and bring him in. The court will be…ecstatic.”
“He belongs to me.” Alanis cut in, “he shall not be bound.”
“You stand on my ground, princess. He shall be bound, and at once.”
The servants snapped into motion, seizing Cassiel and snaking chains around his wrists. He stood motionless all the while and accepted his fate with patience; even followed them calmly when they tugged him up the stairs.
The prince turned with them, lingering behind slightly while climbing the stairs, as if expecting Alanis to accompany him.
Gritting her teeth, Alanis hurried after the prince, joining him in step as they ascended to the palace in the skies.
“What a lovely thing to do, to steal away my specimen.” She snapped irritably, “I hope you drown in wastewater; you withered old rag.”
The prince did not even break stride, and even had the audacity to sneer at her outrage. “Yes, you in that tight dress and dainty slippers strike fear into my heart. You frighten no one. That creature shall belong to the court, and to me. But I shall permit you to have it in the evenings.”
If she thought she felt sick before, it was nearly unbearable now. Her own servants were terrible enough but forsaking Cassiel to the hands of the prince’s household would certainly be the end of him.
“How gracious, my Lord. Would it be possible to have him mornings as well?”
“Don’t make me sew your lips shut.” The prince hissed, “contest me again and I will.”
Alanis suppressed a stinging retort, reckoning that any words she uttered would be wielded against her regardless of their wit.
Thankfully, they had reached the top of the stairs. A grey marble balcony stretched around the base of the castle and glittered in the torch light of the guards. Chandeliers of candles hung from the archway into the palace, and from the domed ceiling inside, but the darkness was heavy, and the light did little to pierce it.
Two curved pillars supported an archway into the blackened stones, and a rug, intricately woven with silver and gold threads, unraveled a path before them.
Cassiel, along with Daphne and the rest of the servants, at command of the prince, were led in the opposite direction, further along the balcony, to the other side of the palace, much to Alanis’ dismay.
“Come along, princess.” The prince held out his arm to her, as if she were intended to take it.
Alanis stared for a moment, and then conceded, and linked her arm through his despite the worsening of her newly acquired illness from his hideous complexion, and the clenching of her stomach.
Their footsteps were soft against the rug. The further they progressed into the depths the palace, the thicker the silence became, so that even his cloying voice was welcome to her.
“I’ve heard stories of you.” He said presently. “The delicate flower of Silthia.”
“And I’ve heard stories of you; the thorn in the King’s side.”
“I am a thorn in everyone’s side.”
“I would not contest it.”
The prince grunted and turned sharply to the left. Another hall, longer than the last appeared before them. Tapestries depicting battle scenes and the wars of heaven stretched along the stone walls, glowing ethereal in the torches set above them. The guards followed behind at a distance; always at a distance.
A set of mahogany doors, taller than several man, grew ever closer, and creaked open as the prince reached them.
Boisterous voices from the other side hushed to murmurs as Alanis entered. It was a dining hall, with a banquet table filled to the brim with pastries, roasted peacocks, black bird pies, cooked swine, cakes, and other delicacies.
At the table, were seated all the members of the court, staring at her with narrowed eyes and sneers. Their clothing was pompous, and laden with shimmering gems and feathers. Their faces were coated in several layers of blush, and the women’s hair was done up so ridiculously that it appeared twice as large as their heads.
“Ah, she has arrived.” Said a gruff voice, and Alanis stiffened. The king sat at the head of the banquet table, in a throne of steel and iron. His hair was faded and stringy, and a cape of violet was pulled around his body to hide his barrel of a stomach. “Bring her here, Lukyan.”
The prince grabbed her arm, pulling her roughly around the table to the King.
“Alanis, my…” The king sucked in a breath, “you look more like your mother than I recall.”
Alanis bowed her head in silence; hands clasped humbly in front of her.
“Sit with us my dear, sit, sit.” The king gestured towards one of the courtiers next to him, and the man scrambled to his feet, pulling his chair out for Alanis to take his place.
She slid onto the velvet seat gracefully, mindful of her skirts catching on the gargoyles that choked the table legs.
The prince of Ecasia, Lukyan, displaced another noble and took a seat across from her.
“How are you finding the isles, daughter?” The king said through a mouthful of boar meat.
“Lovely. The views are spectacular.”
“You find exile lovely?” The king let out a loud guffaw, and there was a brief silence as the court turned to look at them, “don’t lie to me, girl.”
Luykan cut in before Alanis could speak, “I believe she speaks the truth. It appears Alanis of mercy has bestowed her grace upon a creature of the sea.”
At this, the king perked up, and dropped his fork onto his plate with a clatter, “a creature of the sea?”
“Yes, I confiscated it from the princess earlier.”
“And it lives on land?”
Alanis felt beads of sweat trickle down her neck. How long would it be before the king took an interest in Cassiel and stole him away?
How long before the court broke into madness for a chance to touch this mythical creature? She alone could not stop them.
“Indeed, it has the likeness of a man.” Lukyan smirked.
The king snapped his fingers, and two guards standing by the arched windows strode forwards. “Bring this creature to me.”
The guards nodded, and disappeared beyond the iron doors, reemerging a few minutes later with Cassiel between them, his wrists still bound by chains.
“This is the creature?” The king demanded, standing up from his throne as the guards forced Cassiel to his knees.
At once, the court fell into silence, and the eyes of the courtiers shifted to Cassiel as he knelt before the king, golden locks spilling over his shoulders, and eyes downcast.
Lukyan rose also, casting a wicked glance at Alanis, “yes, splendid creature, isn’t it?”
“Magnificent.”
There were murmurings from the court, and Alanis crossed over to the king’s side, her footsteps shaky and light on the stones.
“He had other belongings with him, of gold and silver and gemstones.” She said, “would it please the king to see?”
“Later. I wish to see it sing.” The king waved for the guards to lift the creature up. “Does it speak our language?”
“Yes.” Alanis muttered.
“Good. Then,” the king pointed a sausage finger at the creature, “sing for us.”
Cassiel retained a steadfast demeanor despite the situation, and at the king’s request, he dared to speak, “it would not be wise, your majesty.”
“Wise or not, it shall sing.” Snapped Lukyan, and his hand flew to the hilt of his sword, “or it shall never speak again.”
Alanis turned in dread to the king, but it was pointless to argue. With both Lukyan and the king encouraging each other to force the creature into submission, they would have their way regardless of what she said.
A glance back at Cassiel proved he was calmer than she, and they locked eyes for a moment. If she had not been watching him, she might have missed him wink at her. But it was quicker than a flash of lightning, and then he was facing the king again.
“If your majesty wishes me to sing – I shall.” Cassiel bowed his head deeply, “but I ask that the women be removed. The mysteries of the sea are not for lesser ears.”
A loud cackle erupted from the king, blustering and sharp. Lukyan joined in also and the noble men too until nearly the whole table was a roaring sea of laughter.
“Ah, the princess has been slighted by her own lover.” The king wheezed when the noise subsided, and placing a thick hand on her shoulder, he pushed her towards the doors. “You, and the rest of the noble women; be gone.”
There was a shuffling around the table, as the noble women clambered from their seats, their layered skirts swishing across the stones as they made for the doors.
Alanis obeyed, and clasping her hands humbly in front of her, departed from the banquet hall. The guards lingering outside escorted her through the narrow passages of tapestry covered walls, into the depths of the labyrinthine palace.
They led her to a room set in the depths of the structure. Within, was a single bed against a bare wall, a small vanity table, a large window overlooking the valleys shrouded by night, and a rough wool carpet, well worn out over the years. Her portmanteau was left in the centre of the room, untouched.
It was not a prison cell, but Alanis certainly felt it was a message from the king. And when the guards turned to leave, and the doors slammed shut, she was certain she heard the clinking of keys in the lock.
With a resounding sigh, she settled in for the night, and awaited the return of morning, and her man of the sea.