Page 11 of A Royal’s Soul (Soul Match #3)

Persephone Flores

I buttoned up the cardigan Selene had left out for me. Our room was warm, the fireplace burning bright, but the rest of the mansion was cold. Not worryingly so, but uncomfortably so all the same.

I watched as she added a log to the fireplace. “It will keep the room warm for when we return,” she said as she stood up and dusted off her hands. She wore a suit, Borealis blue, tailored perfectly to her frame—wide-legged trousers, an open blazer revealing a tight white top that stopped short revealing her navel.

“It must be nice to never feel the cold,” I joked, as I pulled up my trouser leg and fixed my thick socks. In comparison to Selene’s sleek, smart look—matched with silver hoops, and my bracelet that always seemed out of place, but that she never removed—I was scruffy. I wore light grey pencil trousers, white trainers, a long-sleeved white top, and a grey cardigan to match the trousers.

Selene smiled and walked towards me, taking my hand and pulling me to her. “I feel the cold, but not as easily as you, my pet,” she told me and took hold of my cardigan and began unbuttoning it.

“Hey, what are you doing?” I asked, and reached out to touch the exposed skin of her midriff, warm and taut under my cool fingers.

“I’m fixing your cardigan. You missed a button and are askew,” she explained as she easily and swiftly undid the buttons.

“Lucky you’re here to help dress me,” I commented, slightly embarrassed.

“Where would you be without me?” she joked.

“A scruffily dressed miscreant, causing mischief and up to no good,” I replied. She pulled away from me, having fixed my buttons and straightened my cardigan. She locked eyes with me and frowned.

“Explain,” she demanded.

“What?” I asked.

“Explain why you would dare to make such defaming remarks about yourself,” she clarified. Her tone was sharp.

“I, uh, I, I don’t know,” I stuttered. Selene didn’t appreciate my response and released a low growl.

“You know, now answer me,” she demanded. I gulped and looked away.

“I think… maybe I’ve just been thinking on what someone said. It’s nothing—silly—it doesn’t matter,” I answered.

“It matters. What was said to you?” she questioned, and lifted my jaw to look at her.

“Nonsense, really—about independent communities being outlaws during the civil war, untrustworthy,” I told her. Her nostrils flared.

“There are only a few communities like your own left in the Borealis Kingdom. Most have integrated into the House system. It is true that locally, in the north, there were groups of mercenaries who notoriously double-crossed the Borealis and the Auster forces on numerous occasions. Some of their leaders went on to lead independent communities, outside of the House system, not by choice but because none would accept them. It is also why some refer to groups like your own as being outskirt communities, as they were outcasted undesirables. Your community is highly unlikely to have its origins in such behaviour. You are not the descendant of lawbreakers, though you prefer to live in backward ways, under unnecessarily harsh conditions, simply because you refused to take the knee centuries ago. Given your heritage it is likely that your community grew from staunch Auster supporters, that while accepting they had lost the war, refused to accept the ways of Borealis and her allies,” she explained calmly, “You will not talk about yourself negatively again.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” I replied.

“You’re a good girl, yes?” she asked.

“Yes, Ma’am,” I answered and felt tears sting the back of my eyes. “I’m sorry,” I apologised as I wiped a falling tear away with the back of my hand. Selene replaced my hand and wiped the next tear that fell with her thumb.

“I—I don’t think—I don’t think that I realised how much what other people assumed about me and my home affected me. Before the spring, before you, I didn’t know people thought so lowly of us. Maria never treated us badly,” I explained.

It was a shock that every time I mentioned my home, it came with preconceived ideas about who we were—about my character.

“Those that lack experience with others different from themselves often misspeak, without thought, parroting what they have heard others speak, not knowing the truthfulness or the context of what they say,” Selene said, her thumb rubbing my cheek. “No one looks at you, my dear, and sees an outlaw,” she reassured.

“But you think I’m backwards and stupid,” I challenged, a wave of upset crashing upon me—upset I wasn’t even aware that I was carrying.

“You are both those things sometimes,” she said matter-of-factly, coldly. I took a stuttering breath, her words like a slap. “But so am I,” she added quickly at my response, wrapping an arm around my waist to stop me from stepping away from her.

“I too have misspoken. I have judged you unfairly at times—a symptom of my own stupidity,” she reassured. “I understand now that you prefer a simple life, living from the land and sea, providing as much as possible for yourself. Do I believe more modern ways are better? Certainly. But does that make your preferred way of living backwards or stupid? Certainly not. I do not understand why any would choose to live like you did before me, but that does not make it worse. Only different.”

She caressed my face soothingly and I leaned into her touch.

“You’re kind of the worst and best at making someone feel better,” I said after I managed to calm my breathing.

She laughed in response.

“The worst and best?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I answered.

“The worst is the best, depending on the view,” she said. “Now,” she removed her hand from my face. “Who have you been speaking with?” she asked.

Nonchalantly and with the ease of Selene’s asking I almost blurted out Katrina’s name.

“That’s not important, is it, not now,” I replied.

Her eyes narrowed, only slightly, hardly at all, but I saw it.

“Let’s go to dinner, Pet,” she replied and held her arm out for me.

The dining room walls of Ardens Estate were panelled with dark wood. The dark wooden floor shone under the orange glow of the hanging chandeliers, and the table was not very long—it looked to only be able to seat maybe ten people comfortably. In the centre of the table were candles on brass sticks. While the room was dark, the yellow and orange glows of the lighting made it feel welcoming.

A large fireplace was lit on the far wall. Red and yellow flames danced behind Adamantia’s tall, lean frame as she stood with another woman. The other woman was tall, but not quite as so as Adamantia. She had a fuller figure and a bright, happy smile that she turned towards us as we entered.

“Selene, you’ve grown at least a head taller since we last saw you,” the new woman, who I assumed must have been Sasha, Adamantia’s wife, said.

Selene smiled warmly, “This is Sasha, my other aunt,” Selene introduced me as we walked towards the women and the fireplace.

“Sasha, this is my pet, Percy. She and Ada met earlier today.”

“Oh, I am aware. Percy made quite the impression,” Sasha said, as she held out her hand for me. I took her hand and was surprised when she raised it and kissed my knuckles. “What a pleasure to meet you,” she said, as she released my hand.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Ma’am,” I replied.

“’Ma’am’?” Adamantia said. “I received no such pleasantries when we met.”

“You weren’t very pleasant,” I replied, and glanced quickly to Selene, who did her best not to smile, but her hand on my elbow squeezed in amusement. Sasha laughed loudly.

“Yes, quite the impression. My wife can be less than charming when she tires,” Sasha said.

“I had to know what the girl was made of. This is the first suitor my dearest niece has brought home,” Adamantia defended.

“I am your only niece,” Selene reminded her.

“All the more reason to be careful. Perhaps this flower witch has you under a potion?” Adamantia said and flinched when Sasha slapped her shoulder.

“Ignore her,” Sasha told me.

“How do you propose I am being dosed with this elusive love potion?” Selene asked easily, and I could tell she was undisturbed by Adamantia’s suggestion.

“Through her blood, how else?” Adamantia suggested.

“My pet’s blood is so very potent,” Selene replied and ran her fingers along my throat.

I swallowed and suppressed the shiver that threatened to run along my spine as she grazed over her most recent bite marks—almost healed—but the spot was Selene’s favourite, and after repeated bites, the skin had become achingly sensitive. The caressing of my neck, of where her teeth so often chose to pierce, was practically a public sexual act.

“You tease,” Adamantia protested. “Me and your pet.”

Her nostrils flared as she scented the air. Oh no. could she smell my reaction? Did she know my skin felt like it was on fire as Selene continued to dance her fingertips lightly across her mark?

“Smells delicious.”

“That’s enough,” Sasha said. “Both of you.”

Selene’s hand dropped away and both she and Adamantia laughed.

“Are you jealous, love?” Adamantia asked.

“I am well aware of the possessive streak that afflicts the women of Ardens. I am not jealous.”

“As you have no need to be, for all I desire I find within you,” Adamantia replied. “My witch of stone and hearth.”

“Witch?” I asked.

“House Petra,” Sasha answered, and turned, reaching out to the stone framing the fireplace. I watched as a wisp of light and sparks travelled from her hand and carved a heart shape into the stone.

“Woah, that’s so cool!” I exclaimed.

“A useful skill in construction of mines. Our coven was once many in these parts. House Petra has lessened in number and land over the decades—a result of mixing with the local population, diluting the magic in our blood and selling off our lands,” she explained. Her smile faded, a sadness taking over her features.

Adamantia wrapped her arm around Sasha’s waist.

“What are your talents, Percy?” Adamantia asked.

“Yes, we should have a demonstration.” Sasha added a cheeriness back to her voice.

“I grow flowers,” I said, feeling awkward under the spotlight.

“It too is a very useful skill. One that will never go out of fashion. Everyone must eat,” Sasha said encouragingly.

“Percy has been invited to Cliffwind during my coming tour to offer her services,” Selene told the woman proudly.

“Hoping to endear yourself to the people with the help of your flower girl?” Adamantia asked.

“I am willing to use all tools at my disposal,” Selene replied. “Tell me, Ada, how severe is the current situation? From today's meeting and the number of requests I have received for private discussions, I believe the threats we face are greater than I originally suspected.”

Adamantia’s face grew serious. “I have taken the precaution of doubling the available security for your tour,” she said.

Selene nodded soberly.

“I understand. The estate—has there been any attacks?” she asked.

Attacks? What? Who would attack, and why? I looked to Selene, but her attention was on Adamantia.

“None, so far,” Adamantia replied.

“Percy,” Sasha said, “I know that Ardens Estate is lacking in gardens, but have you seen the maze?” she asked.

“Maze?” I questioned.

“May I?” Sasha asked Selene as she held her hand out for me.

“Yes,” Selene replied, releasing my arm and pressing a kiss to my temple. “Be careful with my pet, Sasha. She is most dear to me.”

“The chef informed me that our dinner will be ready by seven tonight. You have just over thirty minutes, girls,” Adamantia said, as Sasha took my hand and began to lead me away.

“The maze is something quite spectacular,” Sasha said.

“A maze made of hedges?” I asked hopefully. It would be exciting to learn how the gardeners tamed such a creation and didn’t get lost. They must use a map, have the maze layout memorised.

“No, of stone.” My excitement deflated. “The walls are triple my height. The maze is located on the east side of the grounds; the earth was removed to make a sort of valley in which to place it. It’s very old—not someplace you should ever enter without a guide.”

“Why make a maze of stone? Surely it’s far too difficult, if not impossible, to change the layout,” I asked, as Sasha led us from the dining room into the poorly lit hallway.

The grey of the moonlight pouring in from the large windows of the lower floor of the mansion was helped by a few small wall-mounted lights. Sasha walked confidently, undisturbed by the dark shadows.

“The maze changes its own layout at will,” she replied.

“What?” I asked. She smiled, and it was eerie to me—something dark to it. I reminded myself that Sasha was another witch, and Selene trusted me to leave with her.

“I said that the maze was old. It’s very old. From a different time—one of the few remaining artefacts from when inter-coven magic dominated the individual kingdoms of what is now the Kingdom of Borealis,” she explained.

I was silent. I didn’t know how to respond. I didn’t know if I believed her. What she suggested wasn’t possible.

“Have I scared you?” she asked. “It’s really not anything to fear. It’s been a long time since anyone was lost to the maze,” she tried to reassure.

“It’s not possible for walls to move themselves,” I finally replied as she released my hand to open a door that let out at the side of the building.

“I assure you, it is very much possible,” she replied.

“Only a living thing could move of its own accord,” I challenged.

Sasha didn’t reply; she simply led me through the grounds. It was far too cold, and my thin cardigan offered little relief. The night was dark but the grounds were flat.

“It’s not far. We won’t be out for long. We won’t walk down to it, but look at it from above,” Sasha said and retook my hand. “We should have brought our coats.”

“It’s okay,” I responded, but already my nose was so cold I couldn’t feel it.

“Here.” Sasha stopped. “Careful with your step—the barrier to prevent a fall is nothing more than a small chain fence about knee height.”

I looked down and saw the gleam of a silver chain. The moonlight provided enough light to see that just a couple of steps beyond the chain was a sheer drop into a large circular pit, and within the pit was an intricate stone maze. The stone walls appeared about a foot thick, tall, and the corridors thin and twisting.

“It’s not what I expected,” I said. “Why was it built?” I asked. “Seems a waste, if it isn’t to be used.”

“This maze was the final punishment for many,” Sasha answered. “We should head back,” she said.

But we had only just gotten there and I had barely gotten a look.

“Come on,” she said and tugged at my hand.

“Tell me more,” I protested. “What kind of punishment is a maze?” I asked.

“The maze is never the same layout for the same person twice. If you make it to the centre, a clear path to exit is provided. Otherwise, you are doomed to walk the maze indefinitely, until it wins and spits you out,” she said.

“Wins?” I asked.

“The maze was designed as a punishment. Many have walked it, until they succumbed to exhaustion or the elements. Their bodies are then found, just outside of the maze. Like the maze itself has spat them out,” she explained.

“And if you reach the centre, you win?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“How many people reach the centre?” I asked further.

“If given help from above, everyone, eventually. Without help, no one,” she told me.

“Does it really move?” I asked, turning to her to gauge her answer in the moonlight as best I could.

She began to reply, just as a giant roar rumbled and shook the ground.

We both fell to our knees. The shaking was momentarily intense. Sasha screamed as if in pain and I looked to her to see Adamantia lifting her to her feet. I wasn’t surprised when I felt Selene’s arms wrap under mine and lift me up, holding me tight as the earth continued to vibrate.

I watched, awestruck, fear similar to that of being in a small boat waiting for the crash of a wave that will surely cause damage, that might very well sink you, consumed me, as I watched the glimmering stone of the maze screech across the ground, contracting like a serpent, moving, until a small mound was revealed.

Selene swept me from my feet and began carrying me away.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Were you aware of anyone entering the maze?” Selene asked. I got a fright, flinching in Selene’s arms when I noticed that Adamantia walked hand in hand with Sasha beside us.

“No, no one is missing,” Adamantia replied.

“We can’t leave the body,” Sasha said calmly.

“Body?” I asked.

“I will send the servants to investigate and identify the corpse,” Selene replied.

Was this truly real? Was it possible for a maze of stone to be living, moving, and swallowing those foolish enough to enter, only to take their life and throw them back out?

“This can’t be possible,” I said quietly.

“There is a reason such magic has been outlawed for centuries, pet. The impossible is made possible in the most monstrous of ways,” Selene told me, as a gust of warm air washed over us as we re-entered the mansion.

Selene carried me back to the dining room. Adamantia dragged two chairs from the table to in front of the large fireplace, and Selene placed me in one, removing her blue blazer and placing it over my shoulders.

“I should have instructed you to grab a coat,” Adamantia chastised Sasha.

“We were outside for no more than ten minutes. Calm down,” Sasha replied, but reached her hands out in front of her towards the fire to heat them up.

“Elies!” Selene called loudly, and even Adamantia turned a look of irritation towards her.

“Is there a need to shout so loudly? You could have just as easily instructed a closer servant to fetch her,” Adamantia said, rubbing her ear.

“Calling her directly is quicker,” Selene replied.

“My Marchioness,” Elies greeted as she entered the dining room.

“Before first light tomorrow, every door leading outside must be equipped with a coat stand or hook and suitable outerwear to fit my pet,” Selene instructed.

“I’ll remember in the future,” I told her.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Elies replied. “I believe the maze was active,” she continued.

“Yes, there is a body. I want to know who they are and how they entered the maze.”

“Certainly,” Elies answered. “Dinner will be served shortly, the councillors that are spending the night have opted to dine in their rooms, except for one—Fotis of Cliffwind—who has requested to join you.”

“He is welcome to dine with us tonight. Please bring me the report on the body from the maze as soon as you have it,” Selene replied.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Elies answered and bowed her head.

“I know you’ll remember because there won’t be the opportunity to forget,” Selene said in answer to me as Elies left.

“The maze really killed someone?” I asked. I couldn’t wrap my head around such a thing. “How does something that does not live have a mind to do such a thing?”

“The maze lives,” Adamantia responded. “Ardens Estate has sat at the heart of Ardens since before the land was known by such a name. The maze is older than any of us truly know—older than when we began to write our histories. But history is spread through the oral tradition, perhaps more so than the written. All children of Ardens hear tails of the magical maze, of stone carved by witches with the aim of capturing any foolish enough to enter—to drain their life and sustain its own.

It may look and feel, and for the most part act, as nothing more than stone, but its enchantments are living, and each death provides fuel. It will be more active now that it has had a meal.”

Adamantia’s words scared me, but also helped to make sense of what I had witnessed.

Enchantments required life to sustain them. For small things, like my scent bracelet that I gifted Selene, just a drop of blood was needed, but for other more powerful enchantments, more was required.

Syngeneia’s history was perhaps the bloodiest of them all; their blood was used to seal the blood oath.

“Dark magic,” I whispered.

“Yes,” Sasha replied. “For life is the price to sustain it.”

“Why would anyone make such a thing?” I asked. “It should be destroyed.”

“It was made to serve as a cruel punishment. For whom exactly it was first conceived, we do not know. But it remains an effective threat today,” Adamantia answered.

“It’s not something that can be easily destroyed,” Sasha replied. “It’s magic we no longer understand, knowledge lost through generations without use.”

“Do not forget that inter-coven magic is outlawed, punishable by death,” Selene said sternly. “There will be no more talk on the subject,” she finished, and I felt something like fear prick the back of my neck, yet it wasn’t my own.

I turned to look at Selene and she offered me a smile that seemed perfectly normal.

“I am not intruding, am I?” Fotis asked as he entered. When we all turned to the entrance at his arrival.

“Not at all, Councillor Cliffwind,” Adamantia replied, and waved him over. “Join us — drinks, ah, here they are.”

Servants entered, carrying trays of glasses. Fotis grabbed one as the servant passed him.

“Thank you,” he laughed and took a large mouthful of what I presumed was wine.

“How do you find your room?” Selene asked when he reached us. She reached out and took a glass for herself that the servant offered, and when the young man held the tray of glasses out to me, she pushed it away, silently denying me.

“My pet does not drink alcohol. Only fruit juice or decaffeinated coffee at this hour,” she instructed.

“Yes, ma’am,” the servant responded. “Do you have any preferences, Lady Flores? I shall request it from the kitchen?” he asked me.

“Eh,” I stuttered, put on the spot. “Orange juice?” I said but it sounded more like a question. “Or water, anything is fine, really.”

“I will return with orange juice,” he replied, and offered a small smile.

I didn’t think I would ever get used to servants waiting on me. It just felt rude to put them out. Now he had to go all the way back to the kitchen, and I had no idea how far away that was—all to get me orange juice. I should just dehydrate.

“Thank you,” I replied.

“Percy, this is Fotis of Cliffwind—the village that has requested your assistance,” Selene said, taking my attention from the servant.

I stood from my chair to shake his hand when he offered it. He was an older man, with a dark grey beard—short and stubbly—ruddy cheeks, a bit of a belly, and combed-back white hair.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. We haven’t had a flower girl in Cliffwind since I was a boy,” he said and shook my hand excitedly.

“What are you hoping I can help with the most?” I asked.

“Our root vegetables will be ready for harvest soon, but a rot has gotten to roughly half of them. Can you do something about that?” he asked.

I thought for a moment, “Only if the plant is still in the ground. If you’ve harvested already, I might not be able to do much,” I explained.

“Harvest season is upon us,” he said, shaking his head sadly. “If we wait until you arrive on the tour, what can be salvaged will be lost.”

“Fields of what size are we talking?” I asked.

As it stood, my magic for such things as harvesting was pretty limited. Sure, I could bring enough crops to harvest to feed my family—even my village if I worked to exhaustion—but I couldn’t do it fast, and it would be a physically draining task.

“We’re not a big town,” he said. “Only about eight hundred of us—barely qualify as a town really. I’m the councillor with the least residents. We have two fields of maincrop potatoes, and a smaller field of onions and carrots,” he explained. “The potato fields together are about one acre total. We usually get a yield of about thirteen tonnes, which isn’t near enough to feed the town as is. With half the crop lost, we’ll need to buy more from our neighbours—probably have to look outside Ardens, as I know others have been affected. It’s been much wetter than expected,” he added, rubbing his arm as if soothing himself of worry.

I felt terrible. If I could gather my magic I’d be useful. I’d be able to help Fotis and the people of Cliffwind. But an acre was manageable, if I had enough time, two or three days. It would drain me immensely, but I could do it.

“How long will we be in Cliffwind?” I asked, turning to Selene.

“Only a day, pet. The schedule is tight after the tour we must make our way to Borealis for the Royal Conference,” she answered.

“Would it be possible for me to stay in Cliffwind for a few days and catch up with you on the tour after?” I asked. “I could manage an acre, but not in a day, three maybe, a week would be better,” I explained.

Selene frowned.

“We would extend the best hospitality. Percy could stay with my family—we have the space,” Fotis offered quickly. “Please, we really need the help,” he begged, watching Selene as closely as I did. She finished her drink and waved the servant over, who quickly replaced Selene’s glass with a new drink.

“No,” she said after taking a sip. “I am sorry, Fotis, but I cannot risk my pet’s safety,” she explained.

“I promise you, no one from Cliffwind would ever harm a flower girl. She’d be a local celebrity. Only the best treatment,” Fotis promised.

Selene’s frown deepened.

“Please, Selene. I’ll be fine. It will only be a few days,” I begged.

The situation in Cliffwind was dire. People would starve if I couldn’t help—they might still starve with my help. She couldn’t say no.

Selene turned to me, her eyes flashing bright, a soft rumble of a growl. “Silence,” she commanded, her tone harsh.

I saw Adamantia place her hand on Sasha’s shoulder to prevent her from intervening.

“People will starve!” I argued, unable to understand how Selene could be so cold-hearted towards her own people.

Selene took a long drink from her glass and waved the servant over who took the glass away. I was infuriated as she ignored me.

“It’s quite alright. I understand your concerns,” Fotis said. “Please do not worry yourself, Percy.”

I didn’t pay Fotis attention; I was too angered by Selene’s callousness.

“Don’t ignore me,” I said, reaching for her arm.

Before I could take hold of her, she turned to me, taking my hand tightly in her own, squeezing painfully. I cried in pain and bent, twisting, trying to free my hand.

“You do not question nor make demands of me,” she hissed, pulling me towards her.

“You have overstepped, pet. You have but one chance to apologise for your outburst, and we will move on and continue with the evening as planned.”

She released my hand, and I stumbled away from her, cradling my hand to my chest. The pain was relieved the moment she released me, but I still clutched my hand in shock. When I turned and saw the sad look that Sasha gave me, and the way Fotis was staring squarely at the floor, I felt a wave of embarrassment come over me—followed immediately by an unwillingness to cow to her.

She was being unreasonable and selfish—and how could she treat me like this in front of others, humiliate me?

“I will not apologise. You’re heartless,” I told her.

Selene’s nostrils flared. She turned to the others. “I will return shortly,” she told them calmly.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

The answer came when she took hold of me by the back of my neck and began to drag me from the room.

“What—" I said, panicked. Her grip was tight and painful, and my feet struggled to keep pace with her. “Let me go! Selene! Stop!” I cried, as I was dragged from the dining room and into the hall.

But she did not listen or slow her pace. When we came to the staircase, she released my neck only to swiftly grip me around the waist and haul me over her shoulder. She was not gentle, and the way I hung upside down felt insecure, unsafe.

Only the previous day, she had carried me similarly and it had been fun, exciting. Now I was filled with fear as she took the steps three at a time, bounding up them as if she carried nothing.

When we reached the master tower, she turned the key to the barricade door and quickly climbed the remaining stairs to our room. She threw me unceremoniously to the bed, and I bounced, rolled, and fell off the other side.

“I will deal with you after dinner. Stay here,” she said and turned to leave.

“Selene, wait,” I cried. She stopped at the bedroom door but didn’t turn to me.

“Why?” I asked. Why had she reacted so horribly? I had questioned her, but that was no reason to drag me like a dog and put me to bed. I was scared and confused and hurt as I kneeled on the floor and leaned against our bed.

She didn’t respond. She simply walked out the door and slammed it behind her. I laid my head on the bed and cried.