“Can any of these elixirs give you immortality?” I study his every movement and watch him drop in three grains of sand and a pinch of moss before stirring.
“No.” He chuckles. “You think I would have that sitting in my office and not tell anyone?” He pushes my head playfully. “Although, I suppose the Ivian Flower could. If it truly exists.”
I’ve heard my father tell many stories about the fabled flower that several people in history have looked for. All of them have been unsuccessful in finding it.
“What about poisons?” I ask, growing bored with the elixirs. “The Queen mentioned a poison that melted someone’s skin off.” My father’s body tenses, the only part of him moving is his shaking hand, and I see what the Queen was referring to. I place my hand on his and stop the contents in the beaker from splashing out. “She mentioned it was one of your creations.”
“Lord Corrgen,” he whispers, almost like he’s not talking to me at all. His mind giving way to the past. “I had called it Azaethel. My first deadly concoction.”
“Why him? What did he do?”
“I was only asked to create it, thewhyis not my story to share. You’re going to have to ask Queen Cayleen if you want an answer. And that’s not something I recommend doing.” We laugh before he falls back to reality and sets the beaker down. “I can go on for days about poisons. Unfortunately, your week is up tomorrow.” I force down a hard swallow.
“I’ll send you off with a few books, I know how much you love to read.” He gives me a teasing wink and suddenly his eyes fill with tears. I don’t even have time to ask if he’s okay before hepulls me in and wraps me up. “Ariah, promise me that you will do what she asks and then you get the hell out. If any pursuit is too great to bear, you come straight back, and we will figure it out as a family.”
“I promise,” I whisper into the crook of his shoulder. “I do this, and she will get rid of that stupid tradition, and you and Mom will never have to deal with her again. It’s what we all want.”
He squeezes me tighter and his silence is stabbing, filling me with fear and guilt. They spent years being the Queen’s aides. Years of learning who to cheat, steal, kill, and do all kinds of unspeakable things to, on her behalf. A week is nothing. Enough time to hear stories and be shown a few things, but not enough for me to stew on what it all means. With my luck, I’ll forget it all by the time I arrive at court.
It was just before sunset when my mother told me to meet her at the council building, in the center of town, within an hour’s time.
All she said was, “Don’t be late and remember, you must be unseen, unheard, and untraceable.”
Our nightly lessons are usually conducted at home and this is to be the first time out in the open. Keeping the rules in mind, I dress in all black to make it easier to remain unseen. Ditching my dress, I pull on fitted pants and a flowing black top that I tuck into the waistband of my pants. She told me to always stay armed, so I insert a dagger in each boot where I created a place to conceal them. The only other items I take with me are my medicinal bottle and canister of needles.
My mother had gone over several weapon choices, showing me a box she kept hidden under floorboards of our sitting room. It was another surprise at the time, but the shock from their past lives has begun wearing away and I’m becoming more and more numb to the details they share.
Out of her weapon stock, I had been most drawn to the ring swords. She had two, both with a wooden grip and a glistening, silver blade that wrapped into a circular shape. The only difference between the two was that one had metal spikes, while the other did not.
I end up taking the one without. The spiked one felt more advanced—for people far more skilled than I am or would ever like to be. I want to keep it simple and pray that I will never have to use it in the first place. I think of it more as an accessory to go with my new ensemble, and a great accessory is something I can get behind.
As I cross the bridge that connects our home to the larger part of the village, I spot a few people still wandering the streets. Unsure of how unseen I am to remain, I decide to take the backways to circle all the buildings.
It is dark and there are very few patches of light, making it easy for me to go unnoticed, also making it harder to see things.
The scent of roasting chicken and herbs smacks me in the face and my stomach instantly grumbles. Moving along I pick up traces of stew followed by quail and potatoes.
Ignoring the tempting scents, I move along to the council building. I ease out of hiding, cautiously, but the sound of giggling, followed by low moans, sends me back into the shadows.
The area appears empty. I can’t spot anyone or anything other than darkness and patches of moonlight, but voices are getting closer.
“Over here,” a low, hungry voice beckons.
At first, I think my mother is signaling to me but then there are more light moans and…kissing? Oh, no.
The noises are of lips interlocking and mouths trying to smother moans as a couple explores one another.
“Why can’t we go back to my home? My father is away in Verrum to attend to his dying sister. He’ll never know who has been in my bed.” A soft voice pleads before they suck in a quick breath of air.
Yes, why can’t you go home? Why do this here, and now of all places?I think to myself.
“Too dangerous,” the deep voice grunts, before the kissing picks up again.
Ugh! I’m not about to hear anymore from these two. I don’t have anything on me, but my hands search the ground for a rock or pebble, anything small enough to throw.
My hands land on a small pile of rocks. The noises come from somewhere to my left, so I dash one of the rocks off to the right.
“What was that?” All seductive noises stop and all is still.
