Queen Arantxa might be a vile, megalomaniacal bitch obsessed with controlling the entire Mother-damned world, but Belle had to admit that from that obsession was born some truly genius inventions. The steam engine was one of them. Aran had devised a way to transport tons upon tons of people, supplies, materials, and products hundreds of miles in a day—without the practice of magic.
The implications of the steam train in Aran’s hands were terrifying. The war she could wage on unprecedented scale. But, Sweet Mother Dark, was it fun to ride.
Belle loved to watch the world whirl by her, loved the rattle of the wheels against the rails, the chugging of the engine, the way the passenger cars swayed, the scream of the horn. And, when she didn’t have to worry about the wind disturbing her hair, she liked to sneak onto the caboose and hang over the back rail and let the wind whip away her laughter.
Once, she had even slipped out of the car and climbed atop its roof as they neared the city of Broken Earth—and the colossal monster’s skull that sat upon the main gate, arcing taller than the city’s walls and dripping with fangs that had to be at least five times taller than Belle herself. She had imagined the beast was still living as it welcomed the train into its maw and swallowed them whole.
This trip felt a little different, though, as did the carriage ride from the train station to the city’s inner circle. She even forgot to pat the horses before she, Jac, and Z climbed inside.
Belle never knew how to feel when she looked at the castle. By all accounts, it was beautiful. The whole city had been cut directly up the side of Mt. Mares, the Mothers’ Mountain, said to be the place where the Earth met the Sky, where Mother Dark met Mother Light.
And Thorne Earthbreaker the First thought it poetic to break the mountain, to conquer it, to tame it by building from it his fortress. His monument to Order. He had even used the castle’s highest tower to split Heaven’s Fall so that the water cascaded in several rivers across the roofs, winding around the towers and through the castle before merging into the two main rivers that ran through the city below. Those rivers, crystal clear within the bounds of the castle and the city’s innermost circle, quickly grew dingy and polluted as they flowed down and out through the metropolis of the larger, poorer circles. But even in the lowest and largest circle at the very base of Mt. Mares, the architecture remained consistent. The ruling Earthbreakers had always ensured it.
The outermost circle of the city was defined by smooth, towering stone walls that kept the nightbeasts away, enormous reliefs carved into their faces depicting the triumphs and tribulations of Lushale’s people. The buildings were cut from the same stone, roofs held aloft by thick columns or, for some of the wealthier households further up the mountain, it was statues of mythic heroes and deities that held the ceiling over their heads. The buildings in the outer circle were cramped and poorly maintained, the thin alleys between them forever clogged with foot traffic, but as one progressed up the city, the inner circles became progressively cleaner, more open, with sprawling parks and gardens, estates decorated with brightly colored tiles or, as was more common since Queen Arantxa’s reign and its focus on metals and machinery, statues and sculptures of copper and bronze.
Then, there was the innermost circle. The castle stretched up, its back to the mountain, forever haloed by spray from Heaven’s Fall. Its face was clean—the queen insisted any ivy that tried to creep up its walls was swiftly cleared away. And though the area around the castle was open and green, it was meticulously manicured. Every blade of grass was the same height, every bush trimmed just so, every tree clipped back the moment it became unruly. The Houses within the circle were beautiful, but modest. Belle had often thought they seemed almost to bow their heads before the castle towering over them.
Their carriage stopped at Muse House, the one area within the inner walls that escaped the scrutiny of the queen’s Order. Even she seemed to acknowledge that one couldn’t cut out Chaos completely. Chaos would burst out somehow, and better to keep it confined to a house of drink and drug, song and dance, and most of all sex, than to have it find the cracks in Broken Earth’s foundation and break out there. Muse House was where Belle technically “lived,” as did most of the castle’s other Entertainment, which included Jac.
Jac was back in her castle clothes as well. Cuppedia dressed those in her service like dolls, so all the women less stubborn than Jac could be picked out by their painted faces and full skirts. But Jac refused frills. The most Cuppedia had managed to get Jac to wear were feminine, flowing gowns. And that mark on her arm, an intricately stitched, blood-red, arrow through the heart.
The dress she wore today was rose-gold and hugged her tightly enough around her torso that her muscles looked only a deep breath or sudden movement away from bursting free. Once she’d climbed down from the carriage, she hauled her hammer up to rest it on her shoulder—the combination of fine clothing and enormous hammer made her look goddess-like. Jac offered her hand up to help Belle down after her, but Belle paused to glance at Z.
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To his credit, Z looked calm as ever, as if he weren’t mere minutes from facing the queen after failing her so publicly. He sent Belle an easy smile and started to reach for her before he remembered where they were and retracted his hand. Even within his carriage, a stray touch upon Richard’s bride was dangerous, now that they’d entered Broken Earth. Instead, he gave her an only-slightly-less-dangerous wink.
“I’ll do what I can,” Belle told him, “to soften the blow.”
“Don’t,” he said immediately. Firm. “I’ll live. Well.”
She considered him, her brow furrowing in concern, but only slightly.
He grinned. “I’m Lord Z Vigore, Nyx.”
And she let his grin light her face too. “Alright.”
While Belle gathered her things and started out of the carriage, Z tipped his head at the bag she clutched to her belly and said in a low voice, “Tell the little shit I said goodbye.”
“Ah, Lady Belle,” the attendant waiting on Muse House’s front steps spoke up when he saw her. He ducked into a quick bow that she had no right to before saying, “His Highness requests your presence at Purity House.”
For just a beat, Belle went rigid.
Purity House. The baths.
Jac shot Belle a worried look, and opened her mouth like she was going to argue with the attendant. It seemed like their time away had affected Jac as well. Made her forget arguing was out of the question.
Belle rested a reassuring hand on Jac’s shoulder. “Thank you, Amos.”
She’d expected a moment to breathe, to adjust before she’d have to see him, a moment to take Kitten to her room and try to make him understand that it was important he stay quiet until she could get him out of the inner circle. But this was alright. Lady Belle could adapt.
“Do you mind?” Belle asked Jac, holding up her bags.
“‘Course not,” Jac said. A frown tugged at the corners of her glossy, two-toned lips, but Belle knew that frown wasn’t for her.
Z offered, “Purity House is on my path. I’ll carry you there.”
As the carriage took off once more, Belle had to let the worries that suddenly clamored for her attention fade away. Worries that the magic she’d used on Kitten would wear off too quickly and he would wake before she could return and he’d be found. Worries that Z was underestimating the queen’s rage, and he’d be punished severely for something Belle had done. Worries that Jac was still struggling with her loss of power in Luvatha and Belle would be too busy dealing with Richard to help her. She had to let each of them drift away because focusing on anything other than Richard when she was in his presence was a good way to get herself killed.
When they stopped before Purity House, Z gave her one of his rare serious looks. She remembered his words from that morning. Whatever waits for me within that carved castle, what waits for you is something worse.
But she could handle this. Lady Belle could handle anything. So, when she strode through Purity House’s front doors, she wore a confident smile and sent a wink to the attendant who blushed as she passed. Purity House, like all the structures within the inner circle, was gorgeous. Heaven’s Fall fed right into Purity House. Practitioners positioned alongside the house’s cool stone walls worked around the clock to keep the water hot and as clean and sparkling as its namesake suggested.
Inside, mosaic floors surrounded steaming pools full of clear water, lit from below by luminous stones of various colors. The main area of the Bath House was separated down the middle by a divider made of frosted, stained glass to allow for privacy between genders, but Lushalens were not a prudish people, so when Belle passed through the men’s area to get to the private bath beyond, those stretched out in the steaming water simply waved and welcomed her back. One of the guards settled into the bath seemed to have fallen asleep, so Belle caught the attention of a nearby bather and said, “Make sure Dilan keeps snores above the surface.”
Behind the main area of Purity House were the private baths, where she knew Richard would be waiting for her. Richard’s newest attendant, a young man named Deacon, waited in the hallway at the back of the House beside a set of enormous oak doors, standing stiff and pale. When he saw Belle, he actually let out a shuddering sigh, relief melting him. Everyone knew the calming effect the prince’s bride had on His Highness. And everyone knew how dangerous he was when she was gone.
Guilt squirmed in her belly at the knowledge she had left this poor boy with Richard, and it might very well have gotten him killed—but the guilt was far, far away, with the true Belle.
Deacon gave her a grateful nod. “Lady Belle. Welcome back.”
“Thanks, Dea.”
He pulled the doors open for her, and Lady Belle stepped through.