Page 6

one

.

.

.

The Divine Palace was grander than anything I could have imagined.

Murals lined the walls depicting centuries of battles and betrothals, shipwrecks, and scantily clad people depicted in thick streaks of blue and gold paint.

The gold winked under the chandeliers above.

Each one hung eight paces from the next, leading toward the Emperor’s throne room.

Whispers flowed like a stream through the gaping hallways, eyes pinned to us as we walked down the hall.

Their gowns pooled and trailed the floor in shades of the night sky, of trees and moss.

A few were in blushes or ravishing reds, unlike anything I’d ever seen before.

The nymphs’ stories hadn’t done the humans justice.

The valley of my spine ached, legs feeling tight and stiff, unable to climb and move as I pleased.

I’d been forewarned by the guards that I needed to remain on two feet when in the presence of guests and royalty.

I sat back on my haunches upon our arrival, wanting to touch the ground and feel each sleek tile beneath my palms.

I missed that connection as my bare feet trudged beneath me, the weight distributed uncomfortably.

Fortunately, this was all temporary.

It had taken us a four hour walk and then two evenings’ tides to get to the Divine Palace.

That the Emperor’s guards had come so far to summon me was cause enough to accept my invitation.

It wasn’t as if I had anything better to do alone in my fig tree.

But oh, how I missed my forest home.

Despite the loneliness there, now it was a sea away and I was engulfed in the waves of whispers crashing over me.

I inhaled deeply.

The forest would be there when I returned, I reminded myself.

This was an opportunity of a lifetime.

How many splendors had seen the inside of the Divine Palace?

The gossiping courtiers continued to carry us on their current.

I didn’t try to listen to what they were saying or inspect them the way they seemed to be dissecting me.

Four guards were lined up outside the door, their pointed tridents glinting as they crisscrossed each other, parting only when my escorts drew near.

I straightened, mimicking the men facing me, as if metal rods had been attached to their spines.

I missed climbing and swinging from branch to branch, or laying back and savoring plush figs.

The palace was so much bigger than I’d anticipated and the wide open space between the doors beckoned us over its threshold.

I slowly entered its gaping maw, swallowed up by the large throne room.

There were four gilded columns with golden mermaids twirling up their spines, partially hidden between the waves.

Scaled tails were carved in finite detail, some smooth and rounded, while others were jagged or feathered.

At the top of each column, curled around the clouds was a gilded splendor, each one in a different pose, all of them with beautifully splayed wings.

Pinpricks drew up my empty shoulder blades.

A phantom tingle for something that never existed.

My ribs pinched.

There was so much to take in between the wall-length murals and lounge areas in each corner.

I didn’t even see a throne.

The guard to my left cleared his throat and nodded ahead of us.

Large plumed fans were lined in two rows about forty paces before us, creating a narrow walkway obscuring my view of the front of the room.

Striding forward, I held my chin high, tail feathers dragging behind my bare feet on the satiny, chilled tiles.

The last thing I wanted was to look like a fool in front of the Emperor.

I had never met royalty before, for obvious reasons, but I did understand general manners from my many stories from the forest nymphs.

The fan-holders were dressed in nearly as little as I was, which wasn’t much considering I was bare.

Splendors didn’t wear clothing, our feathers were the only shelter our bodies needed.

Where mine curved along my hips and nestled over the space between my thighs, these servants had one long thin piece of sheer navy overtop strips of fabric that slinked up and over their hips and between their rears.

Where my chest was covered in a thin layer of tufted feathers, theirs had only golden disks, held in place over the crests of their curves by some sorcery I hadn’t encountered before.

I swallowed thickly and tried not to stare.

One by one their fans brushed against us, rippling gracefully up toward the ceiling before circling toward the outer walls of the room.

I could not take my eyes off of them, dragging my gaze from one to the next as they moved with hypnotic grace.

The last two opened their fans to reveal a set of thrones, one tall and the other shorter in stature.

The first was empty, the second held a delicate woman with a flowing navy gown.

The Empress.

Her neckline was low, the top of it sheer enough to see she had the same golden disks on her breasts.

A sapphire encrusted crown was perched atop seafoam green waves that cascaded down her shoulders at varying lengths, so beautiful I wanted to reach out and thumb over the strands.

Thick liner rimmed her amber eyes, making the color stand out.

They reminded me of the sandy shore we’d arrived upon not long ago.

“Empress, we have brought you the splendor.”

“Wondrous,” the Empress clapped.

“Bring it closer.”

Chilling air slipped between my feathers and I shivered, cautiously taking a step forward past the last fan bearers.

Lining the edges of the throne, previously hidden from view, were clusters of courtiers chatting eagerly amongst themselves.

“Do you know why you’re here, Splendor?”

Lyric , I thought to myself.

My name is Lyric.

No one had asked since I’d received my invitation.

No one seemed to care.

It was silly to think it mattered.

These were royalty with much more important matters to fret over than the name of a visitor.

I cleared my throat, the words working in harmony with the murmurs on either side of me.

“To cheer the Emperor?”

“To cheer the greatest Emperor this world has ever known. Master of the most powerful and rich empire for near a century,” the Empress scoffed, the crowd nodding along with her.

“But before you visit with him, why not share a tune with us? We’ll decide if you’re as majestic as they claim.”

Her eyes roved over my wingless back, lips pressing into a line.

Clearly, she was disappointed.

But I wasn’t here for her, I was here at the request of the Emperor.

While I’d sang many times each day, I’d never had an audience other than the occasional stray wanderer.

I’d never felt like I was performing, like I needed to earn something.

My songs had always belonged to me, an aching ode to loneliness, a sacred prayer that one day I’d belong somewhere and be loved.

Treasured.

Maybe this was my chance?

I bowed to the Empress, struck by how bared I felt without the limbs of my tree to wrap myself around, my song shaded by its lush branches.

Sucking in a breath, I exhaled a melody that rang from the hollow pit of my stomach, reaching up my lungs and escaping my throat, filling the empty air with music.

I sang low at first, a crescendo of notes cresting around the awestruck courtiers.

Music was the very air I breathed.

It was in the rustle of leaves, the whizz of the breeze, the burble of the murmurs surrounding me.

The world’s sounds sank into me and morphed in my soul, shared outside my body in a sorrowful ballad.

It was a tale of a lone, flightless bird.

One in search of a home.

When I fell into the diminuendo, the silence was quickly replaced by applause, dozens of smiles reflecting at me from the audience.

Despite the oddity that they were so thrilled by my pain-filled performance, the praise lifted my breasts, feathers ruffling along my body.

The previous chilling coldness was replaced with warmth.

“You are beyond a mere marvel, Splendor.” The Empress joined in the clapping of her courtiers.

“My husband will be pleased.”

Dropping my chin, I peered up at her through pale feathered lashes.

“Thank you.”

A long bony finger pointed just behind me.

“Guards, take the splendor to the Emperor.”

“As you wish,” they said in unison, coming to either side of me.

With that, they escorted me past the throne, moving to the left corner of the room.

The paint was chipping and faded, depicting a stormy sea filled with frothy waves and broken bits of boats.

The guard pressed an armored hand to the only flag floating above the fray, one with the Sacer crest stamped atop it in gilded paint.

As the hidden door swung open with a long creek, I almost could have sworn I saw tiny lavender and mauve feathers scattered across the sea.