Page 7 of Veil of Vasara (Fate of the Five #1)

CHAPTER 7 - LORIA

I had been washed, waxed, stripped, measured, clothed, squeezed, and wrapped up in this gown like a prized mare.

I had always known this day would come. The day when I would have to attend the banquets, smile, and shake hands with men who looked at me as if I were an ornament they could admire, touch, and play with. That I would be asked to please them, make them feel powerful, make them want for nothing. All so I could bear a useless title, so I could convince myself and others I had a place in this world.

But I would rather have had no place in it, than that place.

I had spent the whole week trying to devise a way to get myself out of the scheme my father had created. But every session of speculation ended in the same conclusion. There was nowhere I could go where my father would not find me. There was nowhere I could run where Nathon would not follow. There was, short of throwing myself off the side of the Citadel’s highest floor, nothing I could do.

I had considered it. I had thought about merging myself with the thunderous sky and leaping to my death.

But I was not ready to die. Not yet.

And why should I die so Prince Eliel could live? I had no trust, no faith in my father except this – I trusted in his desire for power. As long as I was useful to him, and as long as he got what he wanted, I would live.

I owed Eliel nothing. I owed myself a chance to survive.

The only way to guarantee my own survival at this moment in time, was to go along with this plan. Perhaps, I hoped, I could figure out a way to sabotage it while I was in Vasara. But the likelihood of me being able to do that while remaining alive was extremely small.

I would need to become that toy, that plaything.

I would have to endure it.

I would endure it.

We had been waiting for Nathon for some time now. Our departure had been scheduled at dawn, but he was still nowhere to be found. The travelling party would consist of twenty, including Nathon and myself, to ensure we reached Vasara safely. All the guards had awoken early for the undertaking of our journey.

They were beginning to grow impatient.

I stood near the outer edges of the Citadel’s front courtyard, looking out over the golden landscape of the villages below. I overheard them speaking.

“He should have been here at least an hour ago. That little shit.”

“Keep your voice down.” Without checking, I could tell the woman who replied was glaring at my back.

“It’s freezing out here and he’s probably got his head smack down on the table of some tavern.”

“Who has?” a voice interceded.

I spun around. Nathon had just strolled out of the large archway leading into the Citadel. He was shrouded in a light cloak, outlined with dark fur. Though the weather in Audra was humid, it was cooler in the early hours, the wind leeching the air of its heat. Nathon skipped down the steps, approaching the man.

“Urrr…my brother. He’s—"

Nathon laughed, placing his gloved hand over his mid torso. “You’re a terrible liar.”

I hadn’t moved, I was watching the exchange from afar. I did not intend on approaching any closer. Nathon was wild and unpredictable. I had no idea what he would do at any given moment. I pitied the man, but not enough to help him.

The woman must have been thinking the same thing, for she did not rush to defend her comrade either, or confirm his story.

Nathon slapped the man on the top of his shoulder.

“Your Highness, I swear—" the man began.

Nathon rolled his eyes, removing his hand. The man’s shoulders visibly relaxed, but before he could fully release his breath, Nathon yanked the man’s sword from his belt, and pointed it at his chest.

The man widened his eyes, the entire party tensed. The air stretched and fissured with that tension, seemed to crackle with it.

Nathon turned the dark sword in his hand, observing it in the dull sunlight struggling to reach us. “These are reserved for the most prestigious soldiers in the King’s infantry. That’s because they’re made from a special kind of mineral we mine from deep within our lands. Noxstone, they call it. They named it after that… God.” Nathon smiled at that, as if it amused him. “It cut sharper than most blades, pierce deeper, but they’re lighter to wield. You can’t find that material anywhere else in the world. It’s what my daggers are made from. Very few people possess a weapon like this. People will pay ridiculous amounts for them, both here and across the other Five Kingdoms.” Nathon sighed. “Exquisite.”

I didn’t own a weapon of Noxstone myself. I had never felt quite comfortable with one in my hand, knowing the damage it could do.

The man, not sure whether he should speak, looked at the woman standing beside him. She, like all the other people present, was watching Nathon with a mixture of terror and curiosity.

The soldier turned back around and licked his lip. “I am honoured to own it, Your Highness.”

Nathon scrunched up his face as if squinting, tilted his head to the side, and added the sword to his own weapons belt. “Only you don’t anymore. I think I’ll take this with me.”

“But Your Highness… it’s my only weapon.”

“Such a shame. I sincerely hope you don’t end up needing one then.”

“But I am to journey with you… Your Highness.”

“Yes. You are. Without a weapon, and nobody shall give one to him.” He looked behind the two figures to the remaining soldiers. “If we are in a life-or-death scenario then I suppose you’ll just have to improvise.”

There was in fact a fairly moderate chance we would end up in a life-or-death scenario. Murdering a candidate would provide the others with a great advantage, and even with the Courting Season aside, we were never short on enemies, across the Five Kingdoms, and within our own lands as well.

“But, Your Highness, I—"

“What’s wrong, soldier? You were perfectly happy to improvise just moments ago when I asked you who you were speaking about. I assume you will be able to do so on a battlefield as well.” There was no logic to what Nathon was saying, he knew it, all the soldiers knew it, but nobody would dare inform him of it.

After a brief pause Nathon added, “If I catch anyone sneaking him a weapon or giving him one during a fight then I will take theirs too. Is that clear?”

Everyone mumbled their agreement. Nathon smiled widely, then turned to face me. The smile remained on his face but faded as he approached.

“What’s wrong with you? You look miserable.” He addressed me.

I turned away from him. “Your arrival probably has something to do with it.”

“Of course, my apologies, it seemed you were all simply brimming with joy before I arrived.”

“You’re intolerable,” I couldn’t help but mumble under my breath.

“Trust me Loria, there are many escorts who would be far, far worse than me.”

“Really? I can’t think of anyone I’d prefer less than you,” I rotated my body to face him.

“Does that matter? I’m not your escort so we can take midnight strolls and gossip about the colour of the King’s eyes. I’m coming to make sure nobody tries to hurt you or kill you. I’m coming to make sure we see this task through, and we survive it. You may not like my company, but you can rest assured if anyone harbouring ill intentions towards you even blinks in your direction, they won’t live to see the next sunrise.”

I didn’t know whether his speech comforted or petrified me.

I looked around. “Why are we here? I thought we would be riding.”

Nathon’s expression changed and he swallowed quickly. “There’s been a change of plans. I’m sure you’re pleased to hear it.”

I was. I nearly died riding an Erebask when I was ten. At first, my flight had been blissful, almost calming. Then, without warning, the Erebask I was on suddenly stumbled and dropped, as if it had become incapable of carrying me. I was tumbling to my death, crying, and screaming, pleading with the creature to stop, to rise, but it seemed equally distressed. I had been moments away from becoming a fractured mess of blood and bones on the ground when Nathon, flying on Kazal’s back, had saved my life.

That was back when he had a soul.

“I am,” I admitted. “But I’ve never seen you go anywhere without your Erebask.”

Nathon rubbed the side of his jaw and neck. I peered at him. He was acting strangely.

“Are you sure there’s not something wrong with you ?” I asked him.

Nathon’s hand fell to his side, and he began peering at me. “Why are you asking me that?”

“You’re…you seem distracted.”

“Because I was scratching my neck?”

“No.”

“What then?”

“Because you didn’t kill that man.”

“Sorry?” Nathon crossed his arms.

“That man, who said you were probably stuck in a tavern. You didn’t kill him.”

Nathon was regarding me the way one would a stranger. “So?”

“You would have killed him normally. Or hurt him at least.”

Nathon stroked his chin quickly, still maintaining eye contact. “Are you quite sure I didn’t?”

“What?”

“Now that man’s long journey to Vasara will be plagued with fear, with the constant unease that comes with being on the open road unarmed. The trepidation and knowledge that should we be attacked, his death is guaranteed, is a much sweeter punishment for him…and for me. I’m going to thoroughly enjoy watching his facial expressions on the way. I need some form of entertainment, after all.”

I sighed. He wasn’t distracted. If anything, he was simply more unhinged.

“Get in the carriage and make sure you don’t get your lovely dress dirty. We need the King to like you, don’t we?”

Nathon made to get into the carriage himself.

“No,” I said firmly.

He blinked hard, with one foot on the edge of the carriage.

“You’re not sitting in the carriage with me,” I declared.

“You expect me, the Crown Prince of Audra to ride on a horse outside, in the rain?” he said ironically.

“It doesn’t bother you when you’re riding your Erebask.”

Again, his expression shifted, his eyes darted to this side. “I’m getting in that carriage with you Loria. Move.”

He shoved past me and sat down inside. Some of the soldiers were watching us from afar, clearly waiting for me to join him so we could move out.

I would endure this.

I got into the carriage and sat next to the opposite window, as far away from Nathon as was possible in this cramped, dark black box.

The same look that had clouded his expression moments ago remained on his face. I don’t know why I found myself curious about what had caused him such turmoil. He never showed any care towards anyone but himself, and should the situation have been reversed, I could guarantee my struggles would not have occupied his thoughts for a single moment. But still, I was curious, largely because Nathon was never phased by anything.

“There is something wrong with you,” I stared at him. Now that he was trapped with me in this carriage, as I was with him, he had no way of escaping my statement.

He turned towards me and leant his head back against the wood. “I already told you there wasn’t,” he grumbled.

“I don’t believe you.” A violent nausea, born from nerves, ignited in me as I spoke.

Nathon quickly removed his head from the wood and leant forwards. “I’ve been roped into escorting you. I’m not entirely happy about it.”

“That’s not it.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Why are you lying?”

“Why are you asking?”

“Why can’t I ask?”

“Why can’t you remain silent?”

“If you wanted to be left alone why did you sit in this carriage with me?”

“I didn’t think I’d be getting interrogated.”

“I’m not interrogating you.”

“Yes, you are, and it’s starting to irritate me, so stop.”

I contemplated it. I thought about stopping. But I had the upper hand now. For the first time in my life, I had the upper hand with my brother.

“Or what? You can’t hurt me or kill me, you said so, not unless you want to die yourself.”

He smirked at that. “Still tempting though.”

A moment of silence passed between us. After our sharp and hurried exchange of words, it seemed to stretch out for an eternity.

Nathon huffed. “I’m not going to answer your questions, just because you want to be right about something, Loria.” He leant back against the wood and closed his eyes.

“Am I right?”

“You’re still asking questions.”

“You’re still pretending.”

He looked me in the eye, grinned, and spoke. “Aren’t we all?”

That ended our conversation.

It took us eight days to reach the outskirts of Vasara. The soldier whose weapon had been acquired by Nathon, did indeed look constantly alert and exhausted the entire journey. He hardly slept. Nathon would every so often, draw my attention to his wide, darting eyes and laugh, or give the soldiers orders about the watches they would take and the stations they would occupy.

The closer we got to Vasara, the warmer it became. The soldiers slowly discarded their cloaks and Nathon himself was eventually clad in a low-cut black vest, with wide pants to match. The gold and silver embroidery on his clothing made it clear to the Vasarans he was a person of importance as we dragged the horses down the smoothly paved streets.

Two nights previously, I had taken off my plum-coloured cloak, revealing the dress I had been hiding underneath its layers. The looks I had received from the three soldiers on duty made me far more uncomfortable than the heat, and although I knew they could not act on whatever foul intentions were swarming through their minds, I would rather have remained stifled by the warmth, than be subject to their leering.

Nathon, who now noticed me sweating, moved closer to me. “Why are you still wearing that? You’ll boil to death before we’ve even arrived.”

“Maybe I’m hoping that will happen,” I replied.

A few minutes later, sentries from Vasara approached us. Their golden and amber uniforms glinted harshly in the bright sun. It made looking at them painful. They were here to escort us to the Palace, they told us, bowing in our direction as they did so.

“How far are we?” Nathon inquired.

“Another hour by carriage, Your Highness.”

Nathon turned back to the soldiers who had been accompanying us on our journey. “You can return now. We won’t be in need of your company anymore.”

“But, Your Highness, we were instructed to escort you to the Palace Gates.”

Nathon spun around in a circle. “I don’t see anyone here who will inform my father you did otherwise. Do you?”

When nobody answered he dismissed them. “Please, leave.”

The soldiers looked at one another and slowly shifted, turning around to depart.

“Thank you for your help,” I said before they could make their way. Some of the soldiers nodded their heads in gratitude, others looked baffled. Nathon looked amused.

We walked towards the carriage the sentries had brought us. It was much larger than the one we had been travelling in, golden and embellished with symbols representing the sun, light, and radiance on its sides.

Nathon smirked at me with a sidelong glance, shaking his head.

“Somebody should thank them,” I said.

“Somebody would have, had they actually been helpful.”

Another guardsman approached us and bowed before he said. “Captain Jarian of the King’s guard at your service. We are honoured to welcome you to Vasara.”

Nathon beamed. “I’m sure you are.”

Jarian gestured for us to enter the carriage. Inside, the seats were much further apart and cushioned with thick layers of red velvet. Nathon immediately sat on one side and lifted his legs to rest them on the other. The windows had curtains too, which Nathon shut on his side. I did the same, thankful for the fact the fabric managed to block out some of the sweltering heat.

An hour later, we were outside the Palace gates. Jarian, after letting us out, announced, “The Prince is currently detained but he, as per tradition, intends to welcome every candidate and their escort in person. If you would be so kind as to follow me, I will show you a comfortable place where you can rest until then.”

I wasn’t even looking at Jarian. I was in awe of the Palace. It towered so high above us I couldn’t see the top of it. It was so wide I couldn’t see either end of it. It was coloured cream, and all along the walls and sides, were several stained-glass windows rich in ruby, amber, golds, burnt oranges, scarlets, and yellows. Two large sculptures of Chimeras facing each other scaled the sides of the entrance. Their claws joined together above the high archway, cupping a golden sun in their paws.

Nathon didn’t seem to care about the architecture at all. Instead, he was keenly focused on Jarian. “Are we the first to arrive?”

“You are the third. First to arrive was Zeima, then Jurasa. Kalnasa is due to arrive later today and of course the Vasaran candidate required no travel.”

I managed to tear my eyes away from the building and look at Jarian, who noticed the wonder in my expression. “It still takes my breath away at times.”

Nathon sighed impatiently. “I would rather like to see the inside of it and settle in that comfortable place you were mentioning.”

“Of course,” Jarian replied hastily.

Inside, the Palace was somehow even more magnificent. The sun that poured through the stained-glass windows left scattered pools of delightful warmth on the stone ground. Pillars of beige, cream, and white towered all around us. It felt like being inside the sun itself. A gentle breeze passed through the several open doorways and hallways, carrying with it the scent of the flowers planted in the Palace gardens.

“If the King is half as impressed with you as you are with some ceilings, then this will be easier than I thought,” Nathon mumbled. His probing comment pulled me out of my haze.

“You aren’t impressed?” I asked.

“It’s a building. I’m far more interested in the people who occupy it.”

Jarian led us into a large adjoining room that opened onto a courtyard adorned with several bushes and plants. It was furnished with large and comfortable chairs, honey and amber in colour, along with small mahogany tables upon a rust-coloured carpet. The sand-coloured walls were lined with books on one side and paintings on the other.

“I shall inform His Highness of your arrival.” He bowed and left. Nathon immediately sank down onto one of the chairs.

“Alright, time for you to take off that cloak now.” He waved in my direction.

I stubbornly clutched at it tighter.

Nathon sighed in irritation. “You’re not going to be able to walk around in it forever.”

“I know.”

He stood and walked towards me. “It’s going to look very bad for us if you greet the King in that.”

“No, it won’t.” I knew that was a lie.

“Stop playing na?ve with me. I know you’re not that ignorant.”

“I’m comfortable this way.”

“I’m not comfortable in this heat and I’m wearing this.” He gestured to himself.

“This doesn’t concern you.”

“Unfortunately, it does. Remember? Make the King fall desperately in love with you, or I die?”

“That’s enough incentive for me to fail.”

In response Nathon grabbed the edge of my cloak and began yanking at it. “I’m sorry but…" He grunted as he struggled to remove it from my shoulders.

“Get off me,” I shoved him with one hand.

“I don’t want to force you, Loria. It would be much more helpful if you just took it off yourself.”

“I—"

The doors opened behind us. Nathon, who still had his hand gripped at my cloak, turned around swiftly. I followed his movement.

In front of us, stood the Prince.

He regarded us both with the blankest expression I had ever witnessed. His eyes roamed up and down both of our bodies almost too quickly to notice.

Remembering where we were, Nathon let go of my clothing and got down on one knee.

“Your Highness,” he said.

I, still shocked the Prince had arrived so quickly, continued to stare at him for a moment. Nathon turned his head to the side and coughed, suggesting I replicate his action.

The Prince barely glanced at Nathon before returning his cold gaze to me.

“Your Highness,” I said and got down on my knees as well.

The silence that followed was stretched out so far, I began to hear my own breathing like tumultuous waves crashing against a shore in my chest.

I looked up to find the Prince had shifted and was now standing directly in front of me. A small smile played across his closed lips.

“Princess Loria,” he finally spoke. “You may rise.”

In my attempt to rise with grace, I tripped over the cloak gathered around my feet. I was about to fall when a hand steadied me at the crook of my elbow.

The Prince had grabbed my arm.

The Prince wasn’t supposed to touch any of the candidates, in any capacity until long into the Courting Season’s activities. I stared at his hand like I had never seen one before. His fingers were long and elegant. His first was decorated with an ornate ring, his family ring I supposed.

Nathon, who had been watching us with much curiosity, widened his eyes at the touch. Jarian, who was standing behind the Prince, cleared his throat as if to alert the Prince of his error.

Gently, and painfully slowly, the Prince let go of my arm.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” I said.

“You’ll have to keep that a secret I’m afraid.” He smiled, placing both his hands behind his back. Then he turned to face Nathon. “You may rise as well.”

Nathon got up successfully, with the precision being a warrior afforded him.

“Are you well, Princess?” the Prince asked, eyeing Nathon as he did. He was referencing the situation he had walked in on, I realised.

“Yes, Your Highness. Sibling squabbles nothing more.” I smiled politely.

“I see.” He regarded Nathon once again. “Of course. You are Audra’s Crown Prince. I have heard much about you.”

Nathon raised his eyebrows at the remark, “What have you heard, Your Highness?”

The Prince didn’t smile, but his eyes glimmered with something akin to delight. “Nothing worth mentioning. Nothing good at least.”

Nathon smiled. It was always hard to know what he was thinking, whether he found the Prince’s response humorous or offensive.

“I was simply suggesting Loria relieve herself from the heavy cloak she is wearing. We are not so climatised to Vasara’s weather, you see.”

I glared at him with as much anger as I could muster.

“Is that so?” The Prince turned back to look at me.

“I—" I found myself struggling to explain.

The Prince slightly tilted his head. I was looking at him more directly now. A strand of his cherry red hair crossed over his pale face. His features were cut as sharply as the shape of his clothing. Vasara had always been well known for the unusual cuts of their attire. His white tunic was neck high, but a triangle was cut out around his upper chest, surrounded by a scarlet red outline. It perfectly complemented the triangular angular shape of his face, his pale skin, and his high cheekbones.

His stare. It was like being caressed by a cool breeze. So crisp and sharp, yet refreshing and uplifting. It was like being hit with an arrow that numbed every part of your body. It was like feeling nothing and everything. It was unnerving.

“I…do not like what is underneath.”

Nathon pressed both his lips together, widening his eyes at me in alarm.

“I can assure you, Your Highness, she is dressed befitting –” he began.

“Why is that?” The Prince looked at me, ignoring Nathon completely.

I was torn between the voice in my head telling me to be honest, and the one to be careful.

Nathon filled the silence, “Your Highness, I must apologise for my sister—"

“There is no need, Prince. If the Princess would prefer her cloak, that is her choice. Although, we have lighter ones available, should you prefer.”

“She –” Nathon started.

“I should like” – the Prince turned to face Nathon – “to hear the Princess speak.”

I looked at a surprised Nathon before saying, “I would be grateful for one, Your Highness.”

The Prince turned around and nodded to Jarian, who left to inform a servant of the request, I assumed.

Then he turned back around to us. “I have some matters to attend to and we are still waiting for Kalnasa’s candidate to arrive. We will convene later in the grand hall, for the formal opening of the season, with all five candidates present.” The Prince’s voice became detached, as if he had rehearsed this part of the conversation.

Nathon bowed, smiling widely. “Thank you, Your Highness. We are honoured to be your guests. Once again, I apologise for the misunderstanding.”

“As I said, there is no need.” The Prince looked at me. “No need at all.”

After a brief pause, he took two steps towards me. “I’ll have a servant bring you a choice of cloaks. Do you have a preference?”

“A preference, Your Highness?”

“A colour?”

“Oh, no, Your Highness. We only ever wear dark colours in Audra, I wouldn’t know, that is to say” – I cleared my throat – “I will happily wear whichever colour you prefer.”

The King looked at my cloak, confirming my statement about the shades we wore.

“My favourite colour is green,” he said rather unexpectedly. He glanced over my shoulder to the plants outside. “Alas, we do not craft clothes of that colour here. Like Audra, we too, have dress codes.”

I was not sure what he expected me to say.

“Perhaps you could have something made, since you are to be the King, Your Highness?”

He smiled tensely, still looking behind me. “That is precisely why I cannot.” He was silent for a few moments and then said. “I will see you at the opening.”

He was led by Jarian, who had just returned, out of the door.

After a few moments, Nathon broke the silence, turning towards me sharply.

“You’re going to get us all killed before this has even started.” He rubbed his face.

“It’s not my fault you were grabbing me before he entered.”

“You and your obsession with this cloak. You’d think you were naked under there,” he said, staring at it again.

“Can you please refrain from speaking for a while?”

“If you could refrain from trying to have us disgraced.”

“You could manage that on your own,” I snapped.

“Stop Loria! I don’t like this anymore than you.”

“You’re not the one who has to do this!” I lost control. Nathon looked at me bewildered.

“You’re not the one who has to parade around and…and get someone to desire you, only to murder them. To have someone touch you, only to –”

He covered my mouth with his left hand. His right hand rested on the back of my head “Be quiet! Be quiet Loria!” He whispered harshly. “Maybe you don’t care about your life, but I do. I don’t want to die. Do you hear me?” He shook me slightly “I have things to do, things to finish, promises to keep. I will not have you be the death of me because you don’t know when to keep your mouth shut!” His voice, although quiet, was clotted with such aggression that I froze. “We are in the Palace now. We are probably being watched, listened to, and observed at all times. You need to act as if someone is constantly breathing down your neck before someone snaps yours and mine.”

I yelled against his hand, but it only came out as a muffled whimper. He pressed down harder on my face. Then, against my will, I started to cry, My tears spilt over his knuckles and swam into his palm. Instead of screams, I was sobbing now, sobbing into his hand.

Nathon loosened his grip on the back of my neck. After a moment’s hesitation spent searching my face with his eyes, he pulled me to his chest and held me. I stiffened. My arms became rigid by my side. His left hand was still over my mouth and his right arm wrapped around my shoulders.

“Please stop crying.” Though this was the closet in proximity Nathon and I had been for years, he sounded distant, lost.

I silently whimpered.

“Please, Loria, someone could walk in,” he sighed.

I slowed my breathing and eventually stopped. I was still pressed unnaturally against his chest. Once he noticed my tears had stopped flowing, he let me go.

Then placing both of his arms on his shoulders he said,“I’m going out.”

“What, why? For how long.” My voice was raspy.

“I don’t know. I’ll be back before the opening.”

“What is so important you need to leave right now? Of all times?” I didn’t want to be left alone here, not when I had just arrived.

He made his way to the door backwards and winked at me.

“Something green Loria. I’m going to find you something green.”