I’ll have to warn Kedrick he’s being obvious. He is looking at me too much during the noon meal. Anyone paying attention will see it and I know the court pay particular attention to the middle ring. What else would they talk about all day?
“We’re not in meetings this afternoon, Tatum Avanna,” Kedrick says to my mother. Loudly. I nearly laugh at his crude way of telling me he’s free this afternoon. I’m close enough to see mother’s eyebrows lift before she smooths her expression. It always puts me on edge when she talks to him.
“As discussed earlier, Prince Kedrick,” she says. Her voice could freeze the fourth. There are a few titters from the ring closest to our table. I grit my teeth. She has insulted him many times before. And he is always oblivious to her slights, much to the amusement of the court. I wish I was brave enough to risk her wrath and defend him.
The court breaks out in whispers and I have no doubt of the subject. They remind me of Tellio lizards which eat the fallen Kaur branches. The venom in their mouth is the only substance known to break down the impenetrable wood. The blithering, stupid people around me care more about gossip and their hair than they do about each other. They are corrosive.
We meet outside of the palace walls and I decide to take him to the old lake. I was expected at the orphanage this afternoon, but the matron would manage fine without me. Kedrick has run away from Malir and Rhone, the massive delegates who usually follow him everywhere and I have made sure I am not followed. I’ll have him to myself all afternoon.
As we skirt around the village and leave it behind us, I become increasingly aware of how close he is. The small hairs on my arms raise every time he brushes my robe with his hand. It happens so often I start to wonder if he’s doing it on purpose.
He passes the time by telling me stories of his family. I already know he has a younger brother, Ashawn, and, of course, his older brother is the King of Glacium. He makes me laugh with tales of Ashawn’s antics. Kedrick is very fond of his older brother, though the stories he tells make me wonder why. He seems to be a ruthless, inflexible kind of man.
Kedrick grabs my hand. I look up, hearing his laughter and realise he has asked me a question.
“Sorry,” I mumble, pulling my hand away.
“Where were you just then?” he asks. This is one of his traits I cannot get used to. I do not like to share my thoughts.
“How old is your brother?” I ask.
“My brother is twenty-two, nearly twenty-three,” Kedrick answers, breaking off the top of some yellowed grass. It must nearly be time for it to be harvested for housing. “That must seem old to your seventeen years.”
“It does not,” I say with a bite. He chuckles and too late, I realise he was teasing. It is another trait of his I was still getting used to.
He laughs and nudges my shoulder with his elbow. “I know, I know. You are nearly eighteen,” he says and abruptly loses his smile. “I wish I was here for your birthday.” He chucks the bit of grass away. “It will be shortly after I leave.”
A small breeze stirs my veil along my collarbone concealed by my grey robes. I reach up a hand to hold it in place. Why he would need to be here for my birthday? It was just a day like any other.
“It will be two years from now,” he says, changing the subject with a shake of his head.
I understand what he means. “Only if I am selected for the delegation to your world,” I say. Our two worlds alternated every revolution in sending twelve delegates to the other world. The chance of me being chosen was slim, since I wasn’t even allowed to see the village rotations and had not received any duties.
“I worry that you will marry while I am gone.”
I burst out laughing, thinking of the fat, balding man who stained his cheeks with berry juice, paying me far too many compliments at one of mother’s tragic plays the other day. If he could marry my position without me attached, he would. “Not likely,” I say, but inside I am thinking his worry is well founded. We will both have to marry others of our own race at some stage.
“Where exactly is this Old Lake? It is either very small or very far away,” he says.
It takes a moment to understand what he means. I laugh. “The old lake is not really a lake. It used to be, but was-” My eyes widen as I realise where this conversation is going to lead. “Uh…filled in,” I finish. I hurry to think of something to change the subject. Unfortunately, Kedrick is used to saying whatever is on his mind.
“Why would it be filled in? Surely it would be kept in case of fire. I’ve seen every damn river linked to the Lake Aveni in the last three months,” he says.
Veni, I curse, searching for an answer to give him which is not an outright lie.
“The Tatum ordered it.” I keep my answer brief and turn my head away.
“It doesn’t make sense,” he continues, oblivious to my attempts to deter him. “It took your ancestors so many years to dig the channels between each rotation to contain the fourth fires. Why would you go to the trouble of filling in a natural break?”
I recheck my veil, a nervous gesture I have had since childhood. I can feel Kedrick’s eyes on me, awaiting my answer. I look up at him, and then away. The subject of my veil had only come up once before, during Kedrick’s third week here. I had run away from him when he asked about it, mortified, and had ignored him for two weeks afterwards. He had not asked since then and he was not asking now. But things between us had changed, barriers had been broken. I could choose to tell him now, if I wished. I could share some of the burden I had been carrying for so long.
“It was filled in at my birth,” I say with my eyes squeezed shut.
I crack them open as the silence gets unbearable.
I look up from his chest to his face. He is stunned, his eyebrows are pulled together above his clear blue eyes. He and the other delegates usually keep their hair short, to help with the heat. But he has not cut it since getting back. A couple of light brown strands fall over his forehead. My eyes run over his handsome features. I get the pleasure of seeing his face daily. Against all odds, he likes me despite never seeing my face. He deserves to know why he will never be able to do so.
I stop the question on his lips with a raised hand and take a deep breath. “It was filled in so I could not look at myself. The lake in the other royal rotation has also been filled,” I say.
He still has not spoken. The silence filling the space between us is so thick I feel like it is creeping into my throat and choking me. “I don’t know why,” I add.
“”You can’t be saying that you’ve never seen your own face,” he says. My silence is confirmation enough. “Fuck, that’s…why would she do that?” he asks, talking more to himself than me. He takes a step away from me. “Do you choose to wear that veil?” he asks, turning back to me.
I shake my head and suddenly Kedrick is boiling mad. “Your mother is one sick, twisted bitch.”
I have no idea what fuck and bitch are, but they don’t sound like nice words.
“And you’ve honestly never seen your own face? A mirror? The springs?” he asks
“Never. The springs are too dark and mirrors aren’t allowed in the royal rotations. I’ve felt my face before, but that’s all.”
He brings his chin to his chest in thought, nodding. “It’s true, I haven’t seen mirrors here. But you could have seen it in other ways. Water in a basin? I don’t know,” he says, jerking a hand in the air.
I tilt my head back and lean on a Kaur tree behind me. How to get him to understand? I sigh. He’ll have to be told everything.
“Until I was ten, I was largely confined to the tower above the room I now have. I was let out occasionally, but there was always someone with me, watching.” I shift on the tree, remembering. “I hated every day of it. I just wanted to be free. I had no friends except Olandon and later there was Aquin.” I pause to collect myself, clearing my throat to get rid of the lump which has risen there.
Kedrick makes a gesture towards me, but I hold up a hand.
“When I was nine, mother came to my room and said I could go outside. She said I could never show anyone my face. I couldn’t believe my luck. My freedom for not showing my face? Nothing would be easier. I ran through the meadows and climbed the trees and smelt the flowers. I went to the village and explored.” I close my eyes as I recite the next part.
“There was a girl under a tree playing a game with some round stones. She asked me if I would like to play, too.” I had only ever told this story to Olandon.
“I went back there every day for a week and every time she asked to see my face I said no.” I blink back tears. “But I had never had a friend before,” I whisper. “So, at the end of the week, I said yes and I showed her my face.”
“What happened?” The question barely disturbs the air, it is so quiet.
“I was being followed everywhere. They were on her before I could do anything. They slit her throat and made me watch her die.” I hear Kedrick breathe in sharply.
“After this, I was locked away again until I was ten. Then mother came to me again as before, except this time she told me if I ever looked at my face or showed another, she would kill Olandon, lock me in the tower and throw away the key. This time I believed her, I was still having nightmares from the year before.”
Kedrick sits on the ground, shaking his head. “That’s the most disturbing thing I’ve ever heard in my life. How could a mother do that to her own child? And why go to such dire lengths to keep a veil on you?” he muses. We sit in silence.
“She has to be afraid. Fear creates the strongest reactions,” he says.
“What?” I say.
“She must be afraid.”
I shrug. “I think she just hates me.”
He shakes his head and stands again. “Maybe.”
“The funny thing is, I no longer think she would kill Olandon. She loves him. But I dread being locked in the tower again. I don’t think I could bear it.” Climbing down the wall from my room was one thing. The tower room was much higher.
We arrive at the Old Lake. But the view is tarnished after the gloomy story of my life.
“I apologise, I did not mean to ruin-” My words cut off as I am pulled into a ferocious hug.
“Never apologise, Lina. It is your mother who should be sorry,” he says and pulls back so I can see his face. I’ve never seen him so furious. I nod, breath held.
We start back. Kedrick keeps opening his mouth to talk. I can hear the breath catching as he does so.
“Has Olandon ever offered to describe your face to you?” he finally asks.
I continue walking, my hands clasped behind my back. “Yes,” I say. “I told him what I just told you and then told him not to ask again.”
“Are you still followed?” He asks.
“Sometimes. But it has lessened a lot with the arrival of your delegation, mother is probably too busy having you followed,” I say.
“I know. Malir and Rhone have a lot of fun leading them astray,” he says. I laugh as I try to picture this.
“Would you ever let me see your face?” he asks, but I am already shaking my head.
“No Kedrick…I can’t. I’m sorry. Please understand.” The thought of taking off my veil fills me with a crippling terror. There is too much at risk if I am caught or someone tells my mother.
He doesn’t speak for a long time and I walk by his side in a worried mess.
“Kedrick. You must promise me this knowledge will not get back to anyone else. Not even your brother, King Jovan.” I did not want my story to become common knowledge or affect Glacium’s dealings with my mother.
He kisses the back of my hand. “You have my word.” He does not release my hand until we reach the outskirts of the village.