The next day I leave the room again. Protesting this time that I was sure the King had only meant yesterday. The guard who went to clarify with the King yesterday shakes his head in refusal to go when the oldest guard looks at him. A different guard leaves with a sigh.
I giggle under my breath as I walk off.
It is obvious they have orders not to touch me or they would have thrown me back in the room. This time I know I will not get long, so I race around the castle, changing locations every so often, hoping to get at least an hour with Kaura before being caught. I hate being locked up.
I’m in some empty courtyard I have never been in before, admiring the snowflakes which are landing softly on the ground and bare trees. The wind is howling, but the courtyard is protected and there is only a slight breeze around me. The contrast between the chaos outside and the tranquillity inside the courtyard is peaceful.
Kaura jumps around trying to eat the snowflakes. I have been teaching her to jump on command all morning. Training her requires much patience, but Malir says this is because she is still so young.
The cold seeps inside my boots, but once again I find it helps to distract me from the pain. I am comfortable out here. My veil is tucked inside my coat which buttons just underneath my chin to stop it from blowing off and revealing my face. I close my eyes, lost in the gentle brush of the snowflakes landing on my veil when I hear shouting voices. One of the guards standing behind me shouts back. I glare at him. Traitor.
King Jovan stalks through the archway to my right, ducking his head to clear it. His shoulders take up most of the opening. Roscoe and a harassed looking guard follow closely behind him.
“Where have you been?” the King roars. Two months ago I probably would have run for cover.
I stand up, brushing the snow from my trousers. “I have been chasing Kaura around all morning, you have no idea how infuriating it has been.”
The King’s face changes from its usual fair colour to red and I hear Roscoe choke.
“Are you alright, Roscoe?” I ask, and see his stifled grin before the King’s glare dictates its hasty removal.
Jovan moves swiftly towards me. It is like a team of dogs is bearing down on me, but I stand my ground. He pulls up in front of me and moves to grab me.
He stops suddenly, looking down and yells in surprise. I follow his gaze and see Kaura has sunken her teeth into his leg. He kicks her off and she yelps.
“Don’t do that!” I glare up at his towering frame. I reach down and pick Kaura up, cradling her in my arms. “Are you alright, Kaura? You are such a good girl.” Roscoe chokes again.
“Good?” the King shouts in disbelief. “She just bit me.”
“You deserved it,” I return and hear muffled laughter. The King aims another glare over his shoulder. I have never seen the King this flustered. I barely restrain my laughter.
The King’s eyes narrow and his mouth grows grim. I tense as he ducks low and lifts me onto his right shoulder, holding me in place with an arm across my upper thighs. I squeal in protest and a little pain, my ribs taking my breath, although I note he is taking care to carry me so most of the pressure is on the left side of my body.
I struggle to hold onto Kaura. It is a big drop from up here. I’m lucky my veil is tucked in. Kicking out, I land a knee to his stomach, causing a satisfying ‘oof’ of air which he then retaliates, to my shock, by smacking my bottom with his hand.
“Put me down,” I snap. “And stop wiggling, Kaura. I don’t want to drop you.”
“If you will not obey my orders, you will be treated like a child,” he snaps, not breaking stride.
“Why don’t you just drop me at the nursery with Cameron then?” I shout.
“Don’t tempt me.”
I feel like banging my head against something solid. “Stone-headed bloody Bruma,” I shoot in his direction. This time I hear full laughter from Roscoe who must be trailing us.
The King smacks my bottom again.
“Stop that,” I say, kicking my legs.
He snorts and flings the door to my room open. I tense my body thinking he is going to throw me, but he surprises me by bending in half so I roll gently down onto the ground. I let Kaura go and look up at the King who is opening his mouth.
“Are you going to lecture me?” I say. I know I am pushing my luck. His mouth snaps shut. His glare is withering as he turns on his heel and storms out, slamming the door. I hear him shouting at the guards.
“I will have your fucking heads if you let her out again.” Followed by, “You were no fucking help.” And then the sound of Roscoe’s deep laughter.
I clutch my ribs as I laugh more than I have in a long time. The sound is carefree. Another weight I did not know I had been carrying is lifted.
I spend the fifth day in my room. I stretch and do lighter exercises for my arms and legs, stopping when any of them cause my ribs to complain. I wake the next day and know I must get out of this room. I crack open the door and the two guards who have gone to the King before shake their heads. The eldest guard looks at the fourth one who slumps his shoulders forward. I giggle at the display.
“There is no need to be worried. I think I should not go out without the King’s permission. He seemed a little put out the other day. Could one of you take a message to him?” I ask.
The nominated guard nods his head, though his eyes are wary. I clear my throat.
“Could you please tell him I’m starting to feel like Cameron’s Aunty Beatrice and would like to leave my room, if he would be so kind as to allow this?” The older guard coughs hard. I look at him. Maybe I should not be keeping them out in the cold. The third guard walks down the hallway, dragging his spear behind him. I close the door and practice Kaura’s new trick with her.
A knock sounds on the door a while later. I open it to a red-faced guard.
“King Jovan has said he will allow you to leave your room today as a reward for your good behaviour yesterday.”
My eyes narrow at the King’s response, purposely worded to infuriate me, I’m sure. But my happiness at being able to leave the room overrides my annoyance.
I pick Kaura up and nearly run down the stairs, which many parts of my body do not appreciate. I spend the day outside again, only returning to the castle when my fingers are blue. Guilt swamps me when I see the guards are freezing.
“You are all frozen. You should have said something. I apologise,” I say to them. They seem surprised and mumble a polite response. I take them to the food hall and make them stand by the fire to warm up.
The next morning I open the door. “My week is up,” I say. Two of them snigger, the guard who conveyed my message to the King yesterday still looks traumatised and the older, serious guard just nods at me.
I smile and bound down the hall, Kaura at my heels.
I go straight to the food hall hoping to find one of my friends and peek a look up at the King, who is his normal expressionless self. Next to him I see Roscoe looking at me with a large grin on his face. I look further down the table and see Ashawn looking my way. For the first time he is not glaring at me and I wish he was. He is smiling at me, but it is not like Roscoe’s at all. The menace in his expression sends shivers down my spine.
In that moment, for no other reason than my instincts are screaming at me, I know Ashawn was the person who hired the three thugs. My step falters, before I remember to keep moving my legs. It looks like this culprit was much easier to find. Sadness overrides the twinges of anger and frustration I feel at this discovery. Sadness because Kedrick had always said Ashawn and I would get on so well, sadness because Kedrick’s death had affected Ashawn so devastatingly, and more sadness because there was an ugly part of me, left over from my mother’s treatment, which told me I deserved the beating.
I sit down at the empty table. There is no way I can retaliate or tell the King. The Bruma already think I killed one prince. Being responsible for another Prince’s death is impossible. I had hoped the beating and Kedrick’s death had been linked and by tracking down the thugs, it may have led me to Kedrick’s killer. I swallow my disappointment. Ashawn had certainly not killed his brother. You only had to witness his behaviour afterwards to know this.
I sit down and eat my pear dejectedly, feeding Kaura some food. And what if I discovered it was Malir or Sanjay or one of my other friends who killed Kedrick? The thought of killing one of the delegates to fulfil my vow was…abhorrent.
Rhone sits down, throwing snow everywhere and interrupting my guilty tirade. He must have just returned.
“Good morning, Rhone,” I say.
He nods. “Tatuma.”
I frown at him. He was the only delegate yet to call me Olina.
“How was your trip?”
“Unnecessary,” he says.
With my background knowledge on why he was sent away, I can imagine it probably was.
“That’s a shame,” I say lightly. He looks at me with narrowed eyes. Of all of my new friends, Rhone is the most astute. I commend King Jovan’s decision to send him as part of the treaty delegation. He would actually make a good Solati.
Malir sits down with a weary greeting and I wonder what he had been doing for the week. I know he is the head watchmen. Had his task had something to do with Osolis? Dread fills me and I stow the thought away. The King stands just as people are finishing their meals. It is such a rare occurrence the entire hall hushes immediately, though his presence always demands their attention.
“We are well into the final month of the third sector.” A small cheer meets his words. He waits for the noise to subside, tilting his chin and surveying the assembly. “As is our custom, we will celebrate the coming snowfast. If you have any questions about this, please see Arla.” He gestures to a beautiful blonde. “Who is in charge of its organisation.” Arla beams a smile and waves her hand at the assembly. Some of the males let out appreciative calls. I imagine many of the females will be rolling their eyes. The King resumes his seat and excited talk fills the hall. War could not be on the horizon if they were planning a celebration. His announcement quells some of my worry.
Fiona and Jacqueline approach the table as I am standing to leave. They ask me if I am well. They, of course, would have noticed my absence from the hall. I reply that I have been out with Kaura and in my room trying to adjust to the cold, but I keep it as vague as possible, too aware of Rhone’s suspicious look. Hoping to divert their attention, I ask about their plans for the day. Disappointment twinges when they tell me a group of woman are heading into the middle rings to shop as the weather is the best it has been in weeks.
“That sounds like fun,” I say, not able to keep the yearning from my voice. I don’t really know what shopping entails. All I know is that it’s different from what we’ve been doing and this is enough to tantalise me.
Fiona looks at me with sympathy. Jacqueline however leans in, saying, “You should come with us. You have not seen the city yet.”
“I do not think I would be allowed-” I start, but she is already standing up.
“Roman!” Fiona and I jump when Jacqueline yells out. Every head in the hall turns our way. Roman comes promptly. I giggle, pressing a hand over my mouth beneath the veil. He responds like Kaura when I call her to heel.
Conversation resumes around us. “We need you to ask the King if we can take Olina with us into the city,” Jacqueline says to him.
Roman pales and tugs at his collar. “My love, I do not think…” he starts.
“You don’t have to think. You just need to do,” she says with fake sweetness. I feel a little sorry for Roman. His wife is one of the tallest women I have met and full of fierceness, and her blue eyes are currently pinning her husband down, challenging him to say no. She is a woman who could make an army cower if she got riled up.
Fiona is looking my way with a wide smile, I bite my cheek so I don’t laugh. Roman drops his head and turns towards the throne table.
We watch as Roman walks towards the King with dragging steps. Fiona giggles and claps a hand over her mouth. Not being able to hear anything, I can only guess what is being said. Roman talks, still tugging at his collar. The King immediately shakes his head. Roscoe talks to the King for a moment. Roman nods eagerly as the King talks to him again. I hold my breath as the King looks in our direction. He summons us with an imperious gesture.
“Uh-oh,” I mutter under my breath. The others laugh under theirs. We approach the King and the two woman on either side of me curtsey. I nod a little.
“You have sent Roman to ask whether the Tatuma may enter the city with you. I must deny this request.” My face falls and my jaw clenches, but I remember where I am.
I turn to the others. “It’s okay, I did not think I would be able to. You will have to tell me of it when you return.”
“However,” the King says in a loud voice. I turn narrowed eyes back to him. “Roscoe has suggested a visit to one of your homes may be a safer alternative. I am willing to allow this,” he finishes. The other ladies are more than agreeable.
“Thank you, Roscoe!” I say, then turn to Roman. “Thank you, too.”
I look back in the direction of the throne and catch Roscoe tilting his head to the King in a not so subtle hint.
“And…thank you, King Jovan,” I say in a less grateful voice.
The King’s eyes narrow. Roscoe hides a smile behind his hand, Fiona titters next to me. The two women curtsey again and we turn to leave.
As we step down from the platform someone bowls into my right side, I gasp at the pain in my ribs, unable to stop myself clutching them. I look up and see the beautiful blonde woman, Arla.
“Oh, I am so sorry, Solati.” She giggles. I hate the sound immediately. “I’m not used to looking down at my feet to see where you are running about.”
Jacqueline looks like she is about to attack Arla any second. Fiona just watches with wide eyes. I put a hand in front of Jacqueline. There is no sound from the table behind us.
“That’s all right.” I mimic her giggle and add a toss of my veil for good measure. “Even if you looked down you wouldn’t be able to see past your nose anyway.” I hear a few gasps from the tables around us, but I also hear a few snickers. “And its Tatuma, to you,” I say in a casual voice. I drop my hand from my ribs to my side and walk off with the two ladies in tow, wishing I had said something a bit meaner and wittier. It was probably not wise to overly anger her. Arla sat close to the throne table which meant she, or her family, held power on Glacium.
Jacqueline leans down to my ear as we near the archway. “She’s touching her nose.” I burst out laughing, the carefree sound echoing off the walls.
I had expected the two ladies to go on their trip to the city and take me to their homes another day, but they both hush my protests and say it will be much more fun to show me around. We decide to go to Fiona’s home as it is the closest. They explain the set out of houses as we go. Kedrick has explained much of what they are saying, but it is easier to understand as I see it for myself.
There is a path out of the castle gates, which we follow, their guards lead the way and mine keep close behind us. The snow has been pushed into large piles on either side of the pathway. We huddle together for warmth and hurry down the path to the house. It is so windy my veil keeps untucking from my coat. I use one hand to keep my veil from blowing up as we stand in front of Fiona’s house.
“Oh, you have the loveliest shade of hair,” Jacqueline says, making my heart stop. The veil must have blown up at the back.
“I have always wondered what colour her hair is,” blonde-haired Fiona replies.
“It’s black I think, but it seemed almost blue for a moment there. Who do you get the shade off?” she asks.
I keep my tone casual. “My father. He had dark hair. My mother’s hair is a chestnut colour.”
“Oh…I apologise,” Jacqueline starts, but I hold up a hand to wave off her apologies.
“My father died shortly after my younger brother’s birth. Talking about him does not bother me. I did not really know him at all.” I had often wondered if my father’s death made our mother the way she was. If she had been twisted by grief. Thinking of how my life could have been different if my father had lived had occupied much of my childhood in the tower. And when the Tatum had married the twin’s father, Arlo, I had hoped he would protect me from my mother. It had not taken long for this hope to be crushed.
We enter Fiona’s home. It is much cosier than the castle. Rugs and cushions brighten the rooms and coloured furniture splashes life into what would otherwise be a grey stone home. The whole house is warm and I wonder how as I don’t see a fire anywhere. It is bliss after our cold walk here. When I remark on the liveliness of her home Fiona explains most of the wealthier homes are like this.
“The castle used to be much brighter when the King’s mother lived there,” Jacqueline adds.
“She’s no longer alive?” I ask. I know this already from Kedrick.
The two women shake their heads sadly. “She died not long after King Borin’s tragic accident. She was heartbroken.”
“She died from losing him?” I ask with a furrowed brow. They nod and I see Fiona dab at her eyes with a piece of material. Remembering my grief after Kedrick’s death, I could imagine how this could happen, especially if you had spent your whole life with a person.
“The three Princes lost both their parents within a short time. It hit them all hard. But if anyone had been uncertain whether Jovan was ready to rule, they were quickly reassured. He rules so ferociously it is easy to forget how young he is,” Fiona says.
Jacqueline nods. “The death of his parents has changed him. He was always the more serious of the Princes, as you would expect of the eldest son, but he lost his heart the day his mother died and with Kedrick’s death, we all fear he will not find it again.” The women tense at the mention of Kedrick and swiftly change the subject without giving me time to reassure them I’m okay with talking about him.
As they chatter, I reflect on what I have just heard. My heart squeezes in sympathy for the King, who has lost so many of his loved ones.
“That whore Arla was so rude to you today, I was this close to acquainting her with the rug on the ground,” Jacqueline says, holding up two fingers. I nod in agreement, smiling at her passion. Having friends here has given me a new perspective of the court back home. It’s fun to gossip - when it is not about you.
“I have heard this word whore before. What does it mean?” I ask.
Fiona giggles. “It’s a woman who men pay to do the dirty with them.”
My eyes widen. “Oh,” I choke out. Wide grins cover their faces at my reaction. I do not know the term ‘do the dirty’, but I have discovered most of the time when I do not understand a phrase or a word it usually ends up being another way of saying sex.
Luckily, the servants pick this moment to bring in hot drinks and the sweet food they call biscuits, giving me a chance to recover.
“I cannot believe what you said to her,” Jacqueline continues. It takes a moment to remember we were talking of Arla. She and Fiona laugh for a long while over re-enactments of the run in.
“I have been wanting someone to put that bitch in her place for years. She will hate you for the rest of your life, but there are many women in that hall who will be kissing your feet for what you said,” she continues.
“Who is she?” I ask.
“Her father is one of the King’s advisors.” I think of the row of men who sit at the throne table. I remember the one with blonde hair and watery blue eyes from the meeting room I had instinctively disliked.
“Does he sit fourth from the King’s right?” I ask.
“That’s him.” Fiona nods.
“What has she done to earn the dislike of so many of the women?” I prod. It is a bold question, but I am comfortable the pair will not consider this rude.
“She’s a nasty social climber. She’s slept with everyone,” Fiona says, which I find a tad hypocritical. “She has been after Jovan for years. Before King Borin died there was talk she and Jovan were together.” The venom dripping from Fiona’s words is startling, she is usually so passive.
“They still are together, if you ask me,” Jacqueline adds. “Why else would she be organising the ball?”
“Jovan is going to marry her?” I ask. They both stop talking to stare at me and then laugh for so long I get irritated.
“I forget how innocent you are,” Jacqueline gasps. I frown, remembering when Kedrick called me prim.
“Sleeping with someone here does not mean you want or need to marry them. I bet that is exactly what Arla wants, though. But it is quite common to have several partners before you marry or sometimes even have multiple lovers at once. Everyone does it, it’s considered quite normal,” Fiona says.
I gasp as one of the castle’s mysteries pops into my mind. “Is that why there are always different females around the castle in the mornings?” They barely nod before launching into another bout of laughter. My mouth drops open with my shock of what has been happening in the castle under my very nose.
“It is very different on Osolis,” I say in a weak voice. They both laugh again before Jacqueline erupts into a narrative of her past lovers.