Against the garden gate. My dress doesn’t have pockets for me to hide my hands. The Neresians glide and move alongside the Yleensa. A toe wiggle there, a doe-eyed nod to a list of facts a Yleensa has never heard before. Back and forth it goes. Skirts and capes and flowers and starfish dance and swirl with one another. The prince smiles to mother, bows his head like a good little Neresian.
If I stay shadowed well-enough, mother won’t catch me at the edge of the pergola, fingers tapping to the tune of the Tellos against my thighs. A hand on the back of my elbow makes me jump.
“Fincher,” I hiss as I turn towards him. “I thought you were ‘staying’ in your bedroom pouting.”
Fincher doesn’t respond. Doesn’t sigh or roll his eyes or squint or fuss or nothing. His hands don’t find his own pockets but instead he gently grabs both sides of my shoulders and forces me in close to him. And unlike the starfish arm crawling to my hand, I don’t shy away from his lips against mine. The buttons under his shirt and my palm meet as I press him away.
“Finch-”
“I need you to know why you shouldn’t marry that idiot.”
The music grows in the background drowning laughter away and for a moment, it’s just me and Fincher eye to eye. And I would agree with him, I would. In fact, I do. But a secret about Yleensa nobles with one blue eye, one gray, is they are meant to serve the Good Spirit. And the Good Spirit gave the Neresians a Century Crystal and so they asked for my hand in marriage. In exchange, father and mother were offered a mountain of treasures they’ve never witnessed before. And in this exchange, the Neresians will bind the crystal with my being and it will bestow untold magic to their kingdom.
The last time they received a crystal – Fincher said at least four-hundred years ago - they received the ability to come ashore. Who knows what I’ll bring to them?
“Fincher, this is what I was made for. What I was born for.” Those eyes dart between mine. “Mother and Father, my earliest memories is of them telling me that my purpose is to bind with a crystal. That it’s my only reason I’m even alive. Why they even conceived a child. I can’t disappoint them.”
He scoffs. “Are you serious? And you don’t think I know The Yazata isn’t on your mind too? You honestly think that’s what will happen to you?”
“It’s the only thing to get me through all this,” I say, gesturing behind me. “To know that’s my end.”
“No, it’s not,” he says. “No, it’s selfish. I’m here. There’s a reason to walk away from this.”
Your best friend and you must argue. That’s a rule I’ve come to learn with Fincher. Arguments are kind still, will make a smile want to form on my lips but I’ll tuck it away inside my heart instead. Words are rushed and heated but quiet. A conversation just meant for us. But it’s not how I want to leave, with Fincher furious. With my own self unable to make a decision. Because he’s right. We could run right now. Fincher knows the kingdoms and the creatures and a little magic and we could get far enough away that it’ll be just fine. But I can’t. It’s what I was made for – to give my life to the crystal. Maybe become The Yazata in the process if it lets me keep my life instead of take it.
“Alessia. Listen to me-” but as he pauses, the stars in his eyes form. “Alessia,” his voice changes, lowering so deeply, so quietly, I can barely hear him. “You will die before you ever become The Yazata.”
He blinks and shakes his head. “I-I, well,” he says, “what about now? That was great timing.”
“I can’t.” My voice barely comes as a whisper
“You can do anything you want and you can’t decline this damned proposal?”
“Mother and Father says,” I say, “it’s best to keep kindness with neighbors if you’re immortal.”
Fincher has never ever ever touched my face before. But his hand finds my cheek. It’s warming and a comfort to what I’ve been needing to actually keep my fear at bay. It brings tears to my eyes.
“You still believe you and your family are immortal?”
The gentle caress of his thumb against my skin chokes my words out. All I can do is nod. And then Fincher does something else for the first time. Three times is a charm, the creatures say. His lips press hard against my forehead, my eyes shut tight.
A kiss, a touch, a kiss. Fincher is out of sorts and he has me out of sorts too especially as he walks away, ducking back into the doorway. I could chase after him – return the kiss, touch, kiss. But the beat of the Tellos calls me to turn around.
TELLO, TELLO, JOYFUL FELLOW. TONGUE AND A CRIMSON MELLOW. COME AND JOIN THE FELLOW TELLO.
The stage which they play on is at my hips. Their feet, covered in leather are too close to me. It’s the only creature I’ve been allowed to learn about. The Tello. Parties call for Crimson Mellow and some sit daintily on a platter on each servant’s hand. One, two, three, four servants with platters intermingle on the dance floor. A sharp whistle from a Tello marks the moment. Music stops, dancing pauses. Crimson Mellow is picked from each platter. Each guest holds one in their hands but not father, not mother, and this time, not me. Prince Romulus passes and so does King Konadel.
Rare is it that you can pass on such a tradition but tonight, the honored can pass without retribution. Another whistle prompts the guests to eat their tart. Smiles and stilted laughs fill the blank space between chew and swallow and look around. The Tellos start their strumming once more while everyone looks around. No one joins the Tello race tonight.
And now the moment passes, and the party continues on. Tension comes and goes like the tide. And at a party like this one, the tension is in the undertow. It’s always there with every smile and every laugh with every Crimson Mellow in each person’s hand as if it was an unassuming cocktail. But now, the tension is gone just as the undertow can lesson under the tides.
“Princess Alessia?” a voice, soft and higher than Fincher’s startles me.
The prince stands behind me. A gracious smile on his lips. He offers his hand and I set mine in his like a good little Yleensa. No hair on his toe knuckles, none on his chin. His hand on mine, one on my waist. And around and around we box step throughout the floor.
“It’s about time I shared a dance with my future wife,” Romulus says. His head lowers to my ear and he whispers, “Did that boy that took you around the corner get a dance?”
A chuckle under my breath is not met with humor from him. “That’s just Fincher. We’ve been best friends since I was little.”
He grunts and smiles as we swing past his father. “I’d like to be a friend like that.” Romulus leans in to peck my cheek though I can’t help but back away. His body stiffens in reaction. “Why’d you let your best friend kiss you but not your future husband?”
My heart wants to race, wants to jump from my chest. But mother taught me to tuck those feelings away, to focus on what to say instead of what not to say. “I want our first kiss to be witnessed by our family. When we marry.”
“Why,” Romulus says close to my ear, “did he kiss you?”
A slight toe wiggle from the Neresian beside us as they swing their partner around. A Tello’s black eyes seem to stare into my soul. Mother’s laughter from the parlor. Father bowing to King Konadel’s wife. The starfish on Romulus’s shoulder pleading, ‘Save me’.
“I’m not sure,” I say. Mother taught me the art of conversation and father taught me the art of sophistication. To play to your strengths. A precious princess should bow her head slightly, batt her lashes, and glance to her beloved with a soft smile on her lips. Always this. Always this when in doubt of what to do, he said. “Whatever the reason, it surely doesn’t matter. Let’s enjoy the party.”
Romulus and I dance for the better part of what feels like an hour. Who knows? We don’t speak, let alone look longingly into each other’s eyes like two people in love should. The Tellos play four different songs and a new round of appetizers is brought to the guests, this time it’s only oysters with a side of sourdough lathered in fluffy butter. My feet hurt, I think that’s why it’s felt nearly so long. “Prince Romulus,” I say, bowing my head like a good Yleensa. “I need to take a break. I will be in the parlor with mother and father. Thank you for this dance.”
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He squeezes my hand gently and bows along with me as I step backwards. “My pleasure.” The smile that creeps onto his lips bothers me, but I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because I’ve never met him besides tonight and I’m not used to what his expressions mean but maybe it’s because between the time I said, Let’s enjoy the party, and now when he smiles, so much time has passed for him to conjure a million reasons as to why Fincher would kiss me.
And through the swinging beats of the Tello, doing my best to skirt around potential offers of dances and to the edge of the dance floor. The glow from inside persuades me to step forward. My parent’s jovial laughter. The waft of fresh crab and soft wine coerce my footsteps. I stand beside my parents as they speak to an aunt, I believe, about what intrigues us Yleensa so very much.
“Yes, Fincher is talented,” father says with a big head nod. “He should graduate from his apprenticeship but that Seer Oculo is lazy-”
Mother interrupts. “He makes Fincher do his bidding. Stopped doing readings and makes the poor boy do them all the time. I swear it, we pay Fincher a little extra every month to make up for Seer Oculo’s behavior. We love him around. He painted the courtyard, did you know?”
My aunt, who I’ve never really known, nods along and smiles. Tells father and mother of the one time she was blessed to have a Seer like Fincher live in her guesthouse. Which is what Fincher actually painted in the courtyard. A beautiful setting with a rather fat lady, which happens to look like my aunt. Plump cheeks and stomach. But beautiful face and always dressed in the finest silken clothes imported from Helve, I think. He painted a guesthouse with a person inside where you can see her laying tarot cards out, preparing to give a reading. Why he painted it? Fincher said, “Because it’s what I see.” And that was that and mother and father were as impressed as I was with his skill.
“The paint is still drying,” father says. “It’s where this beautiful wife of mine and I like to retire to in the evenings. And now-”
“It’s all the better,” mother says.
A slight smell of salty brine whips near me and makes me turn. I bow my head like a good little Yleensa. “Prince,” I say.
He smiles, charmingly so. “This Fincher,” he says. “I have seen him tonight.” Prince Romulus eyes me for just a moment. “I see why he is so loved in this family.”
My aunt says, “Do Neresians have Seers too?”
“Oh no, no. We do not but we know where to come if we need a reading.”
Her brows raise. “Have you had one? They are so wonderful to hear what the Good Spirit has to say.”
Prince Romulus pauses. He stares hard into her eyes and smiles as he says, “Of course.”
But a chill runs across the back of my neck. Sometimes, I think the Good Spirit talks to us this way. Touches the bottoms of our feet from inside the Earth to tell us words like this one, Lying. As in Romulus is lying. Lying about Seers and readings, what for? I don’t think the Good Spirit tells us much more. Doesn’t tell us why or how or the like. But I think it does tell us what we need to know. And for me, that means, Romulus lies.
“If you wouldn’t mind the intrusion,” Romulus says, “I would love to whisk your beautiful daughter away and take her on a walk.”
Father dips his head in permittance and mother holds her hand to her chest in her faux but flattering utterly-overwhelmed-sweetheart move.
“Thank you. The highest gratitude from I to you for allowing me the pleasure of taking your daughter.” The smile he beams is bright. Worthy of being worn by a prince. But the crinkles at the corners of his eyes that would normally accompany a smile so genuine are missing. Quite the opposite of my jovial parents and this aunt I’m not so sure is my aunt.
It’s one of those things. An aunt you’ve heard about, that held you as an infant. That pinched your cheeks supposedly when you were two, that is mother’s closest sister. The kind of aunt you’ve only seen pictures of but pictures of when they were young and unrecognizable from the women in front of me. Well, behind me, as Romulus escorts me through the parlor, down the dark hallway, past the stairwell which raises the hair on the back of my neck because I’m certain Fincher is watching us right now or even Seeing us though I’m not sure if that’s even how it works for Seers, and through the side door that Fincher and I left unlocked.
“It’s such a beautiful night,” I say, my arm looped through his as young lovers often do. “I’m thankful to be away from the Tellos and alongside you for awhile.”
The side eye he gives me seems too well-rehearsed. Who he’s been rehearsing with or for? Not that little starfish peering at him. “I’d like to take you to the wharf to see the ship you’ll be boarding for the New World. Well,” he says, “it’s on the coastline of Helve. But we call it a New World as it’s our first settlement outside of the Neresian Ocean.”
The night sky lights our way. What will it be like to be the princess to the first settlement on dry land? To rule alongside Romulus? To exact doctrines and be decorated and celebrated? To act like mother and father and maybe like them, actually fall in love with Romulus where we become so close we complete each other’s sentences. Stone and cobbled streets and sidewalks are enchanting to our kingdom. Pink, yellow, gray. They dapple here and there along the old shop buildings. Down the hill and straight ahead is the wharf with several docks big enough to host an array of boats with oars and paddles.
The briny smell of the ocean sits heavy on the docks. Romulus drops my arm and grabs my hand. “This way princess.” The dock bounces gently with our steps making ripples on both sides of us. “These boats are all from the ship you see a few hundred yards away. If you notice, each one is decorated ornately as we Neresians treasure everything we touch. And each boat will sit in its perfectly carved spot on the outside of the ship’s hull which will create the perfect picture. Do you see what the boats with create in sculpture with the much more larger ship?”
I squint. Not enough light to truly see what Romulus says but, “Yes. It is beautiful.”
His grunt tells me it’s not what he wanted to hear. I batt my lashes and bow my head. “I can’t wait to see it’s full majesty once the sun awakes.”
Another grunt. And mother said if this happens with another woman to talk about them and ask about their hair or nails or their fashion sense. To let them feel superior to you. Works like a charm, she said. And father said, if this happens with a man to say no more and to pray to the Good Spirit that the man is good, honest, and kind for that is all there is to do. Good Spirit? I ask. Is this man good, honest, and kind?
Romulus stops at the end of the dock. Moonlight glints in his eyes and off the few teeth showing behind the smirk on his lips. “It is deep where we docked our ship but here is much more shallow. Although, a Yleensa would certainly run out of air before reaching the bottom and resurfacing.”
“How long can Neresian’s hold their breath?” I ask as if Fincher never told me.
Romulus scrunches his face and scoffs. “Princess Alessia, you have much to learn. When we are in our natural form we breath just as the fish does.” He waves his hand through the air. “That is not important because you, Alessia, have one purpose.” His tone darkens as he turns to face me fully. “You shall be my wife and shall bond with the crystal given to us from the Good Spirit. It is of no concern of mine whether you live as the Yazata or die in the process of bonding. Yet,” he says as his hands find my shoulders, “it is of my concern whether you obey me as my wife or not and I will promise you, if I ever see you show dissent with anyone or any words I will do much more worse than now.”
I batt my lashes and soften my gaze. “Of course, Prince Romulus. I would never do such things to you.”
“Oh,” he says, “you’ve already embarrassed me and we aren’t even married. You must understand that the New World is counting on me to be their leader and they expect nothing but perfection which means,” he says, “you must be perfect. And to make you perfect in my image you must see what I will do to you if you disappoint me.”
He pushes me back towards the edge of the dock, my heels just teetering off. Romulus pulls his hands in, closes his eyes, and inhales. A rush of what sounds like wind moves from behind me but I see nothing. Then his arms raise high like conducting the music arrangement of the orchestral Tellos but this time, there is something to match the sound behind me. A wall of water rushes upwards, licking at my side. Romulus twists his hands and then the shock of freezing cold water encapsulates me pulling me off the dock and towards the water’s surface.
“I promise,” I choke out although the rush of cold demands my words stay silent. “I will never disappoint you.”
The water pulls me down more. Barnacles stuck to the bottom of the dock seem to cower with Romulus’s footsteps. One even falls into the water making the smallest of splashes amongst the chaos around me. “You must never allow any one of my people to see you with the likes of Fincher or anyone who may take his place. Do you understand? My people need a relentless ruler to create a perminite settlement in Helve and you will not ruin it.”
And there was one moment father and mother said to me while they gave me the list of decorum with the Neresians. It sat heavy on my stomach as we sipped piping hot lavender tea in the freshly painted courtyard just this morning. Father said, “If all else fails,” and mother finished, “then comply and grovel and apologize, neverending.”
“I am so sorry Prince Romulus. I will not do anything of the like again.” The water moves with his hand movement. It crawls up my back and soaks my hair forcing my body to shiver uncontrollably. My body in a tomb of water. Completely helpless. Cold. Frozen. Romulus stares down at me, the smile that doesn’t match his eyes plastered on his face. “And I will do anything you ask of me. I will never ever show anything but grace and goodness and the upmost respect for you, my dearest future husband.”
And with that, Romulus raises his hands into the air, bringing back to the dock. And then he flicks his hands, the water splashing away and slipping into the ocean.
My dress soaked, my hairpiece lost to the darkness below, and my hair flowing water over my face. It’s a recipe for hyperthermia, if I remember what Fincher said. I wish my dress had pockets for me to hide my trembling hands but my whole-body shakes as it begs for warmth. Romulus glides to me and wraps me into his arms. A toe wiggle accompanies his wistful sigh.
Sometimes, you can track where you went wrong and what to do about it. I want to say seeing Fincher tonight was where I went wrong and what to do about it? I’ll never see him again and Prince Romulus has cemented that fact just days before it was to come true anyways. The walk back slowly dries me enough to find my warmth again. Romulus leaves me at the side door before heading to the dance floor.
“Why don’t you head in and change for we can’t have anyone seeing you like this.”
I batt my lashes and lower my head like a good little Yleensa. He sweeps onto the floor, laughing and smiling, and moving back and forth with the other Neresians and Yleensa. A toe-wiggle there, a doe-eyed nod to a list of facts a Yleensa has never heard before. Back and forth it goes. Skirts and capes and flowers and starfish dance and swirl with one another.
I stay shadowed well-enough, mother won’t catch me at the edge of darkness, soaking wet, my fingers tapping to the tune of the Tellos against my thighs. A hand on the back of my elbow makes me jump.