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Carnaxa

S iphonie kneels in front of me, her hands softly tracing my own as she does, it’s something she used to do when we were children. I have a short memory of children running through the corridors of my home. Siphonie with her pink hair flowing behind her and the boy with the green eyes. I know I should know him. I think we were close, but I can’t ... place him outside of my vague recollection and him washing ashore from the sea.

Because he doesn’t matter.

The man’s green-eyed gaze bounces between Siphonie and me, his fingers digging into the leather of his pants. Ereon, who I do not personally know, seems rather familiar with me. He puts his hand on the other man’s elbow and pulls him towards the door I went through earlier.

I bite on my bottom lip, trying to figure out what is wrong with me. Everything seems different — I feel different.

“Carnaxa” — Siphonie rises to sit beside me — “do you really not know who Thylas is?”

I shake my head, frustration taking over my features. I don’t understand how I came to be in Shaston. I sigh heavily, scratching at my wrist and the bracelets there. While looking down, I notice a black cuff that I've never seen before.

“What do you remember?”

I rack my brain. “I remember Prince Ereon arriving in Antalis. I can see you telling me you are expecting, and that you and Rhenor are doing better. But that’s ... All of the memories are like looking through water. Some I remember with lucidness, others I can’t recall.” I can see her with so much clarity when I think of her telling me she was expecting. But then it’s just her voice that filters in, telling me about the night she and Rhenor spent together after T?ht and Mar . There are no images … just a sense of knowing what happened, and her voice.

Siphonie gives me a weird look before running her hands down her thighs. “Don’t worry. I’m sure the memories will come back. Perhaps you hit your head harder than we originally thought. Let’s get you bathed and changed. Ereon had some clothes brought up for you.”

I nod my head and she gently helps me up and leads me to the bathing chamber where warm water is already waiting for us.

After the bath, Siphonie tells me what she can about the memories I don’t seem to have. She tries to convince me I need to rest. I scoff at the idea. The last thing I want is to fall back to sleep and feel the icy darkness surrounding me. A shiver passes through me as I watch the sun in the distance slowly rise above the red sands before me.

I run my palms up and down my arms, knowing soon this cold will be replaced by the unrelenting heat of the Shaston’s sun. Although Ashonera has but one sun, in this kingdom the sun feels different, as does the moon that drenches the land.

I’ve peered out this window for hours, pondering how my father is faring without me. Siphonie informed me the deluc is worse than I remember. My father has secluded himself away from the people, and the thought irritates me.

How could he be such a coward?

I shake my head, unsure of where the stray thought came from. My father is not a coward and is doing what he must. I push strands of my cerulean hair out of my face. I know my hair must look as strange as Siphonie’s in this drab place .

From what I can see from the arched window, where Antalis is a world of color, laughter and life, my new home is dark, cold, and scary. I can see multiple whipping posts from here. What crimes must one have to commit to suffer such an awful punishment? A memory of someone screaming at a whipping station in Antalis filters through — blurry — and I can’t see anything else but the back of my father. I internally search, trying to recall when and why Antalis would have ever had such a barbaric structure.

“Did you get any sleep, Naxa?” Siphonie’s sleepy voice breaks me from my thoughts.

I just shrug my shoulders and walk back to her, away from the window. She pushes back the silk covers and sits up, rubbing at her face with her tawny hands. “Are you feeling any better?”

I squeeze my fist open and closed as if I can see any physical changes. I don’t feel different, and yet something isn’t the same. For the first time, I’m uncomfortable in my own skin. Siph smiles sadly at me before tucking her legs underneath her.

A quick knock on the door has Siphonie jumping in surprise. A woman enters with her head down — her hair is in a chaotic braid — she doesn’t look at me. A man, tall enough to fill the doorframe, enters behind her, clearly a soldier by his armor with the sun and serpent insignia embossed in the silver metal.

“Good morning, Princess Carnaxa,” the woman says as she walks softly towards me, her eyes never meeting mine. She looks as if she hasn’t had a meal in days. The long sleeves of her threadbare dress fall past her fingertips and the rest hangs off her frame. “King Atlas wants you in the throne room and I have come to help you prepare to meet him.”

“And who is he?” Siphonie rises, her voice full of the regality that comes with being royalty of Antalis. She nods towards the man still standing, licking his lips as he takes her in from head to toe.

“ Sache Ataiun, and I am here to make sure she does as she is told.” He smirks at the woman before me. “And to make sure the Princess does as well.” I don’t like the arrogance in the man’s tone or the way his eyes never falter from my own.

“We will be there shortly,” I say, keeping my voice firm. “You may go.”

He chuckles under his breath. “Oh ... I can’t do that. I’m under the King’s orders to escort you to him.”

“Did the King also request you to stay and watch the future queen of these lands dress?” I move my hands down my body indicating I’m still only dressed in a robe.

“Not yet. For now, I’ll be outside your room.” He turns towards the door before glancing over his shoulder and motioning to the woman who has still yet to look me in the eyes. “She’ll stay here with you, future Queen-consort, and she’ll pay the punishment if you don’t hurry.”

With the slamming of the door, I watch as the servant takes a deep breath. Queen-consort? That’s not what the agreement was ... was it?

“That was … different,” Siphonie says, taking a step toward me. “I’ve never heard you speak in that tone. ”

“Will I be queen or queen-consort?” I pay no attention to her statement, focusing only on what is expected of me when I enter the throne room.

“Queen-consort. We found out shortly before we left for Antalis. It was a part of the new agreement made between your father and Ereon. Thylas agreed to become Ambassador to help keep some power in Antalis’ figurative hands.” She walks to the wardrobe, running her hand along the dark-colored fabrics there.

Thylas is the savior who helps the Antalians, meanwhile you will just play the part of a pretty wife.

I shake my head and take a deep breath. I’ll think about all of this later, right now I must get ready to see a king.