The women from yesterday are flustered at breakfast. I don’t know why they are even here. They don’t seem to be eating anything. Maybe it is a custom. I’m not going to the ball so I select my usual pear and sit down to observe their odd behaviour.
Gentle Fiona snaps at Sanjay when he teases her about not eating and starts going on about all the errands she must do before the ball starts. I think they will get hungry, but I do not dare say anything. The ball starts in the early afternoon and breakfast is the only meal being served beforehand. I grin at the wide-eyed looks the men are sharing. The women all stand at once. They must have some way of telling time which I’m unaware of.
I linger with the delegates, listening with amusement to them talk of their wives.
“I’m telling you now, Adnan. Don’t get married,” Roman says with a groan. I snicker openly at his despair and Sanjay turns to me with a glare.
“And why are you not off getting your nails done and hair bounced up or whatever they do?” he says. I shrug one shoulder, not wanting to get into it. I’m surprised they did not already know.
Sanjay hums darkly. “As though we care about that shit. As long as Fiona is in a dress where I can see almost everything, I’m happy.”
I smile, Sanjay will be a happy man tonight indeed.
“But don’t forget you have to mention all of those things they’ve done or else they get angry and it’s no point being able to see almost everything because they won’t let you unwrap the rest,” Roman says. I giggle as the other men hum and nod their sombre agreement.
I move around the table and sit next to Adnan.
“Adnan,” I say. He looks up from the objects he is tinkering with. “Can you tell me what kind of wood this is?” I reach into my pocket and draw the small broken piece of wood out.
He takes it from me and shakes his head. “Sorry, I don’t often work with wood.” My heart sinks at yet another dead end.
“Tomi!” Adnan calls behind us. I look up as Tomi approaches from the table where the delegates I’m not as familiar with sit.
“What’s this wood?” Adnan asks him and then says to me, “Tomi is the man to ask about plant stuff.”
Tomi examines it. “It’s been stained this colour. Straight grain. Doesn’t seem very durable, but it’s light.”
I hope the King isn’t looking our way.
“Do you know what it is?” I say, silently urging him to hurry.
“Hmm, I’m not sure.” He brings the wood forward to his nose. “Oh. It’s Seedyr wood. Has a distinctive aroma. But where did you find this? It only grows in the warmer sectors,” he says.
“I found it outside,” I lie. “Why does it only grow in the warm sectors?”
He holds a hand to his hip. “Well, it only grows about this high, not strong enough to withstand the winds. We don’t use it here because it’s not durable enough, we tend to use spruce. I only know it because I’ve seen it used in the outer rings for hunting weapons.”
The hairs on the back of my neck rise. Someone is looking at me. I take the wood back. “Thank you for your time. I find all these new animals and plant life very interesting.”
He smiles and offers to show me more sometime before returning to his table.
I have barely put the wood back in my pocket when Roscoe sits down next to me. “You are the only female left in the room, Tatuma Olina. I hope we can expect your company this evening.”
I hesitate, but don’t want to appear rude. “I’m not going,” I say as softly as I can, hoping the others will not hear.
“What! You have to come.”
I groan as Sanjay’s yell alerts the whole room. Roman and Malir join in his denials, demanding I go.
I meet Roscoe’s amused eyes, he has surely guessed I did not want anyone else to hear.
Adnan reaches across the table and taps on the back of my hand. “Come on. Why are you not going?”
I turn my head away. “There is no particular reason.”
“I have never known you to do anything without reason,” Malir says. I shrug and start to stand.
Sanjay leaps around the table and pushes me back down. “No you don’t. You aren’t leaving until you tell us why.”
“Sanjay. Get your hands off of her,” Roscoe bites out. Sanjay stands back immediately. “If she does not want to go tonight, her reasons are none of our concern,” Roscoe finishes.
Sanjay returns to his seat with a sulking expression. I stand again and whisper my thanks in Roscoe’s ear as I leave the hall. I feel the King’s gaze on me as I leave, knowing he must have heard at least part of the conversation. I do not turn my head towards him.
I grab Kaura and head up to the nursery to hide from anyone who may choose to crash through my bedroom door to demand an explanation for my non-attendance. I can only hide there so long before I start getting odd looks from the woman watching them. I leave and use the back way through the meeting room to sneak down to the kennels and look at the dogs.
Large cages line the walls of the kennel. Each row has a lever at the end so a whole team of dogs can be let out easily. Rhone had let me do it once.
I say hello to Leo, introducing him to Kaura, who does not seem impressed. I eat a pear out on the steps in the freezing cold and then, running out of things to do, I return to my room. The edge of the rug closest to the door is doubled back on itself. Someone has been in my room. I’m glad I have managed to avoid them. It was probably the King, or worse, it could have been Sanjay. I correct the rug and proceed to work out for the next two hours. I don’t stop until I am pouring with sweat and all my muscles are aching enough that I feel calm. Physical exhaustion always does this to me. It is one reason I always loved going to Aquin’s.
Though it is only the afternoon, I am exhausted after washing in the basin. I change into my nightgown, wishing again I could submerge myself in water. Adnan had told me he had a team hard at work in the first sector inserting his latest invention into the castle. A bath big enough to hold fifty people at a time, heated with great piles of Pyope beads from underneath. He said the underground springs had given him the idea and he had tested the idea on smaller baths in the homes of the assembly. This is where he had been the week I stayed in my room after the beating and where he often disappear to. I couldn’t wait to try it, though the thought of being in a bath with that many Bruma was unthinkable. They were inappropriate enough with clothing on, let alone off and I bet there would be other things going on in there I wouldn’t want to know about.
I’m disorientated when I awaken and unsure of why I have woken. A strange sound travels through my door. I roll out of bed and sit on the side, breath held, waiting to hear it again. The sound starts once more. What is it?
I quickly dress and check my veil, then swing open the door to my room. The noise grows louder. I ignore the questioning looks from my guards and run down the stairs, following the trail of sound which tugs at me somehow. I hear my guards jogging behind me. I slow as I reach the archway to the food hall turned ballroom. Of course it is in there. I try and peer down the side through the archway, but the wall of the archway is too thick to see the whole room. The object or person must be in the corner by the throne platform.
“What is making that beautiful sound?” I ask the older guard.
“It is a violin, Tatuma. There are musicians here for the ball.”
“I have never heard anything so lovely,” I say. The desire to see these musicians is too strong.
“I just want to watch for a few moments. Do you think you could wait here, so I do not draw attention to myself?” I sense the guard’s hesitation. “I will go just inside the door and you can check on me every ten seconds,” I say. The older guard nods, looking as if he already regrets it.
I take in the transformed room. How did they do all this between breakfast and now? I don’t like Arla, but I’m impressed with what she has pulled off. Snowflakes hang from the ceiling. They must be made of material. Ice sculptures and glass decorations cover the walls and floor. The rugs and tables have been removed and huge white and blue cushions are organised at one end of the hall. Couples and groups of friends are gathered on them. My eyes nearly pop out at the sight of so many scantily clad women. There is a lot of skin. Too much skin. Some of them only have small strips of cloth covering their front. The men have special tunics on and leather trousers. It seems a bit unfair the women have to go to so much effort. They must be freezing, too.
Fiona spots me from across the room and nudges Sanjay at her side. I pretend I have not seen them and keep moving towards the sound.
I leave one hand on the wall, approaching with slow steps until I’m ten strides away. I am unsure of how close I should get. A tall man plays a small wooden object I assume is the violin. There are two others with him, who sit immobile next to other objects. I wonder if they make the same sound.
To my surprise, I have to blink back tears as the musician continues to play. Thoughts I usually only have in the privacy of my room are dredged to the surface. My heart thinks of Olandon and how much I have to tell him, of the twins; Oberon’s questions and Ochave’s loveable nature. I think of Aquin and hope he lives until I get to see him again. I think of what I have lost in the last year. I think of Kedrick. Of his fierce loyalty and his laughter, his honest blue eyes.
I turn and look around the room to see if anyone is approaching and catch the snide gaze of Arla as she looks down at my clothing and whispers to one of her friends behind a hand. I roll my eyes and turn back to the music. Just one more song.
I nearly jump out of my boots as a large wooden bench crashes down behind me. I glare at the culprit, Kedrick’s bloody brother. I should know. Where there is crashing, there is King Jovan.
“I thought you might like to sit down while you listened,” he says. His voice is its usual confident self, but I detect an uncertainty in the slight hunching of his shoulders. All he would need to do is put his hands in his pockets and kick at the ground to look like the eight year old Olandon when I had found him throwing stones at a herd of Dromeda.
“Thank you,” I say and sit on the offered bench, directing my attention forward again. As much of it as I can with Jovan behind me anyway. He moves to sit beside me.
The bench is much too low for him. His forearms drape over his knees and I’m reminded of when I was first brought before him. “You don’t have music on Osolis,” he says. “Roscoe was just explaining your interest to me.”
I tilt my head up to him. “We have some singing, but nothing as beautiful as this.” I wave at the musicians. “Solati lean towards plays and tragic theatre.”
“You don’t like these much,” he chuckles.
I shudder. “I thank my good fortune daily that you do not have them here.”
We fall silent, listening to another more upbeat song. Laughter and yelling sound from the crowd who have moved in behind us, eager to be close to their King. I hope the ladies from Jacqueline’s are having fun.
The bench shifts as the King looks behind him. “The two guards outside your door that night were found,” he says, lowering his voice.
“They are alive?” I ask, hopeful. Their deaths had been hanging on my conscience.
“They were alive. That problem has since been rectified.”
I look up at him in alarm. “What do you mean?”
He looks at me, an eyebrow raised. “Did you not find it strange that you heard no sounds of fighting outside your room? The guards were paid off, well paid off from what I could discover. They escorted the thugs in and then left you. They tried to hide in the middle rings, but were picked up by my men. The price for desertion and their other actions is death.”
“That is disgusting.” The King growls at my response. “No. Not their penalty. Their greed. How could a person be so…” I struggle to find the right word.
“Immoral?” Jovan supplies. I nod and continue. “I am glad they are gone now. Did they say who paid them?” Surely he would not be so calm if he knew Ashawn had done this.
“Unfortunately, early in their stay, before we were able to work on them, the watchman guarding the dungeons was overthrown. The next morning it was discovered the two men’s tongues had been cut out.”
I swallow firmly at that horrifying thought. “Oh.”
Where were the dungeons located? I had not noticed any of this happening. They must be by the barracks. That was the only part I had not had an opportunity to explore.
“We will find the person sooner or later. I won’t have that sort of person in the assembly. I do not think we will ever find the mercenaries, however.”
A large part of me hopes the King never finds out it was Ashawn. And I was still certain it had been Ashawn. For only sixteen years of age, he knew some very shady people. He was a boy playing with sharp swords and Jovan needed to take him in hand before he got in too deep.
“Olina…” The King interrupts my thoughts. “I must apologise for frightening you yesterday morning. My anger got away from me.”
I change my position on the bench, stretching one leg out and placing both of my hands on either side of me to grip the bench. My mouth opens and then shuts as I think about which answer to give. I decide on honesty. He had told me before he despised a liar, so I assume he valued the opposite.
“It only occurred to me afterwards,” I say, “that you have not had good…dealings with sleds in your family. I can forgive your worry, if that is what it was.” I keep my face forward. “It was your intimidation I objected to.”
He is silent for a long time. My heartbeat increases as I try to guess his reaction.
“You are right. I do not do well with sleds anymore,” he says, as though the words are being dragged from his mouth. I grin under my veil.
He continues, “I admit I was surprised by your reaction, though. You have not responded in this way before. Even when I was in your room when you first came and had you against the wall.”
Somebody gasps behind us. Jovan turns and glares, scaring them away. He turns back with a frown.
It is my turn to be silent as I decide how to answer. It had cost him to admit he had overreacted. I feel I owe him for some reason. Maybe for letting me live or maybe because he knows my biggest secret and has proven to be discreet.
“I did not have an easy time on Osolis,” I say and his eyes shift to my veil and flick down, perhaps taking in my posture as I do to others. “You will remember Blaine saying the Tatum hates me?” I ask. He nods. I turn forward.
“That was putting it lightly. As a result of the…as a result of this, I don’t like feeling intimidated. In fact, I do everything I can to avoid feeling vulnerable,” I finish, regretting having told him more than I had intended to, more than I had told Kedrick.
My eyes look to his hands, which are still draped over his knees, but now balled into huge fists. His tone when he speaks is the soft voice I have learnt means I should run as fast as I can away from him.
“Then I’m doubly sorry. The reports of the Tatum have certainly not been favourable. To what extent were you mistreated?” he asks. I shift on the seat.
“I do not think you need to know the details,” I say, hoping to dissuade him from the subject.
“I don’t need to know, but I would like to know. If you will tell me,” he says in his rough approximation of a gentle voice I have only heard once before.
I shrug my shoulder and look behind me. The crowd is several strides back. “Similar to how I was beaten here, some worse, some not as bad.” I keep my voice emotionless.
“You were physically beaten?” His tone is horrified. I tilt my head to the side. What did he think I had meant?
The King stands up as though he needs to punch the stone columns surrounding my bed again. He sits back down after a few moments. “Fuck,” he says in a voice I have not heard from him before.
“Did Kedrick know?” he demands.
“I think he suspected, but I never told him. I did not want him to try and intervene and get hurt or create a problem between our worlds because of me.” I look around for inspiration to change the subject.
“What is that thing on the end called?” I ask.
I know he wants to hear more about my mistreatment. “A drum,” he answers finally. I let out a breath.
The King stands making the bench wobble. “Come, I will take you to meet the musicians.” He holds out his hand.
“I do not want to put them off,” I say looking at his hand.
He rolls his eyes. “Come with me, bloody stubborn woman.” I huff and place my hand in his. His hand encompasses my own. My hands must feel like blocks of ice to him. His skin is so warm. I see him glance down at my hand with a small frown. He leads me to the musicians and holds up his hand, stopping them mid-song.
The man who sits playing the third and unknown object looks up and shares a nervous look with the others.
“You don’t like this song, my King?” he asks.
“Your music is good as always, Tonio.” He pulls me forward. “This is the Princess of Osolis. They don’t have music there and she is curious about your instruments.” The three musicians turn their attention to me. I step forward, hands clasped in front of me.
“I cannot find words for how beautiful your music is,” I say. This seems to relax them. “I heard the violin from my room and had to see where the sound came from. We only have singers on Osolis.”
They thank me and offer to show me how their instruments work.
The drum player holds out one of his sticks which I take with some trepidation.
“Like this.” He grunts and hits the barrel which has a tight skin of some sort stretched over it. I tap the stick on it gently and a soft noise come out. Jovan snorts. I glare at him and see one of his eyebrows raised in challenge. I bring the stick down hard, jumping at the noisy sound and then laughing at my fright. I bang away on this for a few moments and then another man moves behind me and tucks his violin under my chin.
A horrible screeching sounds fills the hall when I attempt it. I shake my head to get rid of the sound as I would a bitter taste. Laughter sounds through the hall, I look up to see there is a massive audience watching. I hand the instrument back.
The last man gestures to his seat and places the guitar in my arms. “This guitar is much too big for you. I would make a smaller one for you if you were going to learn.” I look up at him in disbelief.
“I could not learn the guitar,” I say laughing and shaking my head. The man shrugs.
“Put your fingers here, on the second fret.” He puts my middle three fingers on the instrument.
“Second fret,” I repeat, feeling stupid. I hear a snort from Jovan and try to kick him in the shin.
I strum the strings awkwardly with my thumb, wincing as a strange muted noise comes from the strings.
“Press with your fingertips.” Tonio moves the position of my hand and the other musicians give me words of advice. I try again and get a fuzzy sound from them. I rearrange my hand again and this time all of the strings produce a mellow sound. I look up, sure I am glowing through my veil at my success.
“Very good, Princess. We will make a musician of you yet,” he says, taking his guitar back.
I look up at the watching crowd and feel guilty for stopping their dancing.
They start back up with gusto, making the crowd cheer and scramble to find partners.
I rub the tips together feeling the tenderness there. My fingers have shallow indents in them from the strings. I wonder how Tonio is able to play all night, I think my fingers would bleed.
I join Jovan and Roscoe who has walked over.
“You have taken a liking to the guitar, Tatuma?” Roscoe asks.
“Yes I have and you may call me Olina,” I say.
“I’m honoured, thank you,” he says with a deep bow. I nod back.
“What do you mean you’re honoured?” the King asks with furrowed brows.
“Being given permission to drop the Tatuma’s title is considered a privilege on Osolis.”
Jovan looks down at me and I laugh at his expression. He has called me Olina for many weeks now.
“I know it is not as formal here. Many of the Bruma here call me Olina,” I assure him.
“I heard little Cameron call you by your shortened name the other day,” Roscoe says.
“Yes, but he is too young to know otherwise. I cannot get angry at him for it.”
“I know many Solati who would become angry anyway.”
I shrug in response, but he is right.
“What is your shortened name?” Jovan interrupts.
I fidget a little. Roscoe frowns at the King, who ignores him. “Lina,” I say, keeping my tone short and uninviting.
He is not deterred. He and Kedrick share the same perseverance. “What does it mean when people use your shortened name?” Somehow he makes his question sound like a demand.
I sigh and share a glance with Roscoe. “Only people you love deeply are allowed to call you by your shortened name before you are married. Family, friends and lovers.” I smile when I say the last word without fumbling.
“Kedrick called you this?”
I look at him, surprised with the reference to his brother, who he always seemed to avoid talking about. “He did,” I say.
I look past the pair to a group of females standing across the room from us. If their eyes were daggers I would be dead many times over.
“I think I will return upstairs now,” I say with a nod in the direction of the women. “There are many people who want some of your attention.”
Jovan looks over his shoulder and turns back with a sigh. The females preen under his momentary attention. I see Greta pushing at her hair and smiling.
“It could be worse. You could be watching a play,” I say. He snorts and walks towards the females with his hands clasped behind his back. I turn to Roscoe who is smiling and watching the King leave. He turns to me with an air of speculation I do not understand.
“He does not laugh much anymore. It is nice to see him do so,” he says.
Confused as to why he is saying this to me, I say goodbye and walk towards my guards.
A hand grabs my wrist, nails dig in. I whirl around, breaking their hold.
Arla looks down at me, eyes wide. I let out a shaky breath. For one moment, I had thought my mother was here.
“Chill, Solati. I’m not attacking you,” she says, crossing her arms and stepping further away. She keeps a beaming smile on her face for the benefit of the people watching. I doubt it is for me.
“Yes?” I ask.
“I wanted to have a girl chat. We haven’t really talked yet,” she says.
I narrow my eyes. “You do?”
“Yes, plus we are all wondering how you thought Kedrick was in the sack.”
“In the sack,” I repeat.
“I thought he was pretty good myself, he did this thing with his tongue. You know what I’m talking about?” She nudges me and I realise what she’s talking about. Gross.
“I’m not having this conversation with you,” I say, turning to walk away.
“Why not? All of us swap stories. And Kedrick has had sex with pretty much all of us.”
Her barb stings. I remind myself I shouldn’t believe a word out of her mouth. I know she is trying to hurt me on purpose as revenge for the nose comment.
“Arla, what you doing here? Shouldn’t you be on your back in a dark corner by now?” a voice says.
I tilt my head back and see Greta approaching.
“We were just talking of Kedrick and his…skill,” Arla says. “You know what I mean, you and he were together at some stage if I remember correctly.”
I gasp, I can’t help the sound. Arla’s lips curl up at the sound.
Greta’s freckled face turns pink. “Well, yes we were. But it didn’t mean anything. That’s how it is here.” She ducks her head.
Greta’s words hurt more than she will ever know. I would have discounted anything Arla said as nastiness, but Greta wouldn’t lie. It was true. How many of these women had Kedrick been with? I couldn’t believe it. Tears well in my eyes.
“Oh, I know dear,” Arla says to Greta. “Don’t be embarrassed. Olina knows we can’t keep it in our pants.” I turn and quickly leave the hall before my tears fall to the ground.