Scipio Davadas had spent the previous evening arguing with his wife about why she insisted on accompanying his sister, Roselynn, back to the country with only Yewen Illymium, a man too old to protect her.
Hyperia countered that the ride north to the country beyond Oran's city walls was less than a day's journey and perfectly safe. If there were any Nazeer refugees wandering the countryside, they would be much farther south. The great dragon, Quetzex, was last seen flying over the Crimson Sea, heading for Kadaar.
Still, Scipio was not convinced. Why would his wife, in the delicate stages of early pregnancy, insist on traveling? And why this sudden concern for Roselynn, someone whom Hyperia had always regarded as a pest.
"I'm concerned for your family," Hyperia said with a sob trembling on her red lips. "Maybe it's because I've lost mine."
Always flummoxed by his wife's hysterics, Scipio relented, and the next morning, Hyperia and Roselynn took off for the country in a closed carriage accompanied by Yemen Illymium and two armed guards on horseback.
* * *
Through an arrow slit in the east tower, Tylla watched her mother and aunt's small caravan weave its way through the morning mist and disappear into the Pale Forest beyond the citadel's wall. She was confused about her mother's sudden rush to leave the city. And why was her silly but always doting Aunt Roselynn not staying on to attend her wedding?
But more important than any of these questions was the knowledge that she, for the next few days at least, was free of her mother's nagging presence.
And that was a call to seize the day, she thought, skipping down the tower stairs to the hallway leading to Rigel's chamber.
Her cousin, a notoriously late sleeper, was not in his room when she arrived. Two empty wine goblets and a messy bed told the story of the previous night. Rigel hadn't been alone. Jabe must have snuck inside the palace walls for a late-night visit.
But where are they now? Sleeping it off somewhere?
A breeze parted the silk curtains, cooling Tylla's skin. She hugged herself, recalling Carmelle's warm, soft touch.
It had been weeks since her lover was dragged away by the Wols. They would have arrived at the Weir by now. And what kind of harsh, barren world would Carmelle have found there?
With a shudder, she recalled her lover's thick red locks falling to the ground when the Wol's leader gleefully shaved her head. Her Carmelle, who only wanted to love and laugh, who dreamed of better things, was now imprisoned in a wasteland within a grim sisterhood.
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Her dark eyes drifted to Rigel's bed, to the messy sheets and spilled wine, and her heart flared with sudden envy.
She left his room and traversed the winding halls and down the wide cascading staircase. She approached two women, a mother and daughter, on hands and knees polishing the floor. They stood and curtsied. The mother, with shoulders hunched, leaned on her daughter for support.
"Your grace," they uttered as Tylla passed.
My ass! Tylla thought, casting a tight smile in their direction. She thought of Carmelle's mother, Moranna.
She was my nurse, and I loved that old fool. But where is she now?
The queen had told her that Moranna had returned with the Nazeers after the Zar festival. Still, Tylla doubted the story as she doubted all of her mother's stories, especially the one she told about how happy her daughter would be once she married a man she didn't love.
Her mood growing grimmer with each step, she padded along the lower hallways, quieting her footfall when she passed the king's war chamber. Men had been assembled there since yesterday, and the heavy carved doors were shut against any interruptions.
She paused long enough to hear a snippet of their conversation. The Nazeers were gathering forces after the dragon attack. Old Nargos had managed to salvage most of his guards, and Quetzex's fire had missed the Nazeer armory altogether. Still, the molten lava from the Great Vulcan's eruption had damaged much of their mining enterprise. With so much of their city destroyed, word had it, they were planning another march on Mynimium. And old Nargos was spitting out words of vengeance against Davadas and Skaards over his slain son.
Through the door, Tylla heard one of her father's advisors insist that they recall the troops they sent to fight the Thrades in Kadaar. Scipio said he would, as soon as Starlex was returned, according to the agreement he made. This proclamation erupted a fresh argument among the men.
Tylla continued on her way. Men's business bored her, and if she ever became queen one day, she vowed to change all the rules, to get rid of war altogether and try to get everyone to live in peace and harmony.
Call me naïve, she reminded herself as she moved through the colonnade and into the garden, breathing in the floral-scented air. And I know nothing about real life? But one time, I knew about real love.
She was running now, running away from the looming palace, its topless tower hidden by silver mist. She ran to the stables, where she found Rigel's abandoned lavender cape with the Illymium star sigil in a heap. The stable grooms would be arriving soon.
Is he crazy to risk being discovered?
All Illymiums are crazy when it comes to love, she reminded herself as she climbed the rough wooden ladder. Perhaps Mother is right and I'm more Illymium than I realize. I can't stop thinking about Carmelle.
She discovered Rigel and Jabe where she thought she would, naked on a bed of straw, fast asleep in each other's arms. Dust motes twirled like dancing fairies in a shaft of bright sunlight streaming in from an open window. The light landed on their young bodies like a blessing from Illym, and for a moment, Tylla stood silently watching them. She preferred the female form, but even she was struck by their youthful beauty.
The sound of a horse's whinny below broke her reverie. She scooped up a handful of straw and dropped it on their heads.
"You are charged with unlawful fornication," she said, holding back a laugh.