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His other hand reaches to lift my chin, but I jerk my head back and out of his reach. His fingers tighten around my wrist as a warning. I’m nothing but a meek viator woman he can manipulate to get what he wants. I’m not a person but an object for him to use. He believes that just because I’m among the lowest class mortals in the realm, I should appreciate the attention he has given me over the past week. Sadly, there are many others who think the same way in Omnia.
I swallow the bile creeping up my throat and plaster a sickly sweet smile on my face.
“I told you, I’m here to work. You know where to find me if you want to see me,” I say with as much seduction as I can muster and force myself to flutter my eyelashes at him.
“You know, I may have to take you up on that tonight. Maybe I can convince a few of the guards to come out. We could have a lot of fun with a pretty thing like you,” he says, giving my arm a slight pull toward him.
I dig my heels into the ground, preventing my body from moving. His lip twitches with my defiance, revealing a hint of teeth.
“The more the merrier,” I say, giving him a wink and tugging my wrist free from his grip.
I saunter away and feel his eyes stalking me as I go. My heart twinges in pain, thinking about how I wish it were a different guard asking to take me out tonight or promising to come see me at work. But that’s not how our story is written. I’m bound to the shadows while he must remain in the light.
Once through the gate, the gravel path winds through a small grouping of wattle and daub homes. The little gardens provide the residents with their own small food source into winter. Firewood smoke burns in the air. Children chase each other, their laughter warming the space. I smile at their joy and freedom.
The crack of a whip pierces the air, causing me to halt.
Tears stream down my face as agony overwhelms me. The sharp, burning pain spreads through my body like a lightning bolt as the leather whip slices my back. Another crack and another scream from me.
I grit my teeth, forcing the memory to fade from my mind. The whinny of a horse grounds me to the present, and I exhale. I focus on the path forward and not the past that threatens to drag me into the darkness again.
The gravel turns to cobblestone as I turn the corner, heading back to Amelia’s home. Closely set stone buildings line the streets, colorful wood accenting their doors and windows. Everything blends perfectly with the landscape as if sprung up from the mountains and forests.
Voices from the market reverberate off the walls, making the path feel as if it’s crowded with people. I crisscross through the streets, drawing as little attention as possible.
Soon, the deep-crimson door of Amelia’s home pops into view. Its color, reminiscent of the deep-crimson of the Umbra crest, stands out from the homes surrounding it. Amelia painted it this color after meeting a soothsayer viator woman a few years before who shared stories of angry gods and destruction coming to Omnia. The seer warned the villagers to paint their doors red to show their devotion to the gods or else they would suffer their wrath. No one listened but Amelia. Her belief in the gods is the strongest I’ve ever seen. She believes their intent is always for the best. I don’t share the same view of our benevolent deities.
Inside the quaint home, it is cool despite the sweltering heat of the day. There are small knickknacks throughout, with only the essential pieces of furniture filling the space. The common-room holds the hearth, which we’ve used on many cool nights during my visits over the past two years. I smile thinking about the stories we’ve shared around its glowing fire, laughing all our cares away. A small pallet bed is set in the corner, out of the way, as to not impede on the limited space. While I love my stays with Amelia, I long for my big, comfortable bed in Umbra.
I kick my boots off by the door before making my way to the bathing chamber tucked in the far back corner of the home. The small chamber is more than most others have in the village. Only the lords and royals of Lux enjoy the luxury of spacious bathing chambers with all the amenities. A well-kept secret of my kingdom, Umbra, is that everyone has access to running water and enjoys comfortable bathing chambers. I long for my deep tub and shower as well.
After pouring some water from a pitcher into the water basin, I strip before scrubbing the dirt from my body and washing until my skin no longer feels sticky with sweat.
Feeling as refreshed as I can, I dry and slip into the basic uniform of a barmaid: a light-beige dress that comes to my knees and a crisp-white apron to wrap around my middle. A simple job to help maintain my cover while outside of my kingdom. The tavern owners, Harvey and Tillie, provided me with these clothes for the week I’d be working for them—a kind gesture I know many wouldn’t extend to a poor viator.
I untie the cream cloth from my hair and let my long, red curls cascade down my shoulders. Snagging a cord off the small counter, I gather my hair and tie it atop my head. I find a fresh white cloth and wrap it tightly around my topknot, hiding its color from sight.
I open the door to the bathing chamber at the same time that Amelia opens the door to her sleeping quarters. She must have finished her daily tasks early. What she does? I have never asked. Nor did she ask what I did when I wasn’t with her. We respect each other’s privacy and never ask the other to share more than she’s comfortable with.
Her blonde hair, the color of wheat ready for harvest, floats in the light breeze that blows through the common space. Her sky-blue eyes meet mine, and I can’t help but smile, remembering the first time we met two years ago. It was as if the fates yanked us toward one another.
It was the first time I laid eyes on my guard. While staring at him with intense adoration, I completely missed Amelia walking toward me, slamming right into her, resulting in the vine-ripened tomatoes she was carrying exploding all over us. When she started laughing instead of screaming, I knew I liked her. Most people would have alerted the guard while chastising a viator for being where they weren’t wanted, but Amelia showed me kindness, resulting in an instant friendship.
“Take a seat, Vivienne. I have some bread and soup for us to eat before you leave for your shift,” Amelia says while gesturing at my seat at the table on the other side of the common-room. My stomach growls in response, earning a giggle from Amelia.
Plopping down in my seat, I watch as she gets to work slicing the freshly baked bread and pouring soup into bowls for us. A beautiful bouquet of bright yellow and orange sunflowers with purple and pink pansies sits in the center of the table. Their floral scent is almost overwhelming but still inviting. I run a finger along their delicate petals, remembering warm honey eyes and soft kisses.
Amelia sets down two bowls of hearty soup, a plate of sliced bread, and two mugs of water. She takes a seat across from me as we both dig in.
“This soup is delicious, Amelia,” I say, taking another bite.
It’s a thick, savory mixture of roasted root vegetables, lentils, and beef. It’s just the type of meal that will keep me going while slinging mugs of ale for the patrons tonight.
She gives me a soft smile while tearing off a piece from the bread. The crispy crust and soft inside of the bread are the perfect complement to the soup.
I chew the inside of my cheek as I debate how to ask Amelia the question that’s been eating away at me since I heard a bit of gossip in my village in Umbra. Just some whispers shared among my people while I hid in plain sight as a viator, no one knowing my real name or title. Would they have spoken so freely if they knew their queen walked among them? Or that the captain they spoke of was her Amari?
That gossip was a big reason I came to Lux. But so far, I haven’t been able to find any answers. I steady my breath to sound as casual as possible.
