Opening her eyes wide, Aida remained where she was as he released her. Strangling the momentary relief from a conflagration to a guttering candle flame in the space of a heartbeat as she tipped her chin down. A subservient apology, a show of reform as she dipped into a deep curtsy to almost kneel at his feet.
“I came to tell you I will miss our luncheon,” Otaso murmured, fingers sliding along her jaw to bring her face up. “You will join me for dinner this evening.”
“D-dinner, sir?” Throat working to swallow back the pleas for a stay of this sudden decision, she suppressed the shiver from an icy finger of dread scraping down her spine. His advisors, his men, they supped with him at the grand table in the enormous hall. Never her.
“Yes, my little fawn. Dinner.” Chuckle grating and swirling with darkness, he cupped her chin in his palm. Brought her wide eyes to meet the russet of his gaze as his thumb traversed a rough course over her cheek. “We’re to celebrate your name day, and it is a very special one. At dusk, the precise moment the sun and moon hold equal sway, you will be of age. A glorious moment. Magical, even.”
The lurking dread became a wave. Sucking at her heart and soul, twisting them into hopeless knots as Otaso admired her features. Fingering a lock of her hair, the sound he made was one she’d heard many a time from him before, yet louder now. More insistent. Sure of its moment of victory.
“Tonight you will see your true potential. No longer the fumbling fawn, but the graceful doe, yes?” Drawing Aida to her feet, Otaso’s tone took on a serrated edge. Darkness seeping into the deep wounds he inflicted with words alone. “You will dine by my side, a testament to my power.”
“As you wish, sir.”
Otaso grunted, displeased with her response. Before Aida could sort through what he wished of her now, he stalked towards the door. Boots landing with the weighty thuds of impending doom, he gave her his back until he reached the slab of wood carved with hundreds of patterns, the symbols of his magic intertwined with a design of a delicate fawn poised to run. Whether to spring away in fear or to play was in the beholder's eye.
“You will remember who gave you a life, Aida Vertia. Took you in, made you something more. The person who has given you everything you could ever need or desire.”
With his words still ringing in the eerie quiet, Otaso left her in the chill shadows. The birdsong she wanted so much to hear without the thick panes of glass separating them now seemed dull and shrill. Any warmth from the weak spring sun melted away, leaving Aida to tremble with arms wrapped tight around her middle.
Whatever plans her guardian had for her, the things he promised with every uncomfortable touch and awkward moment, he would see it come to fruition this night. The exact moment she was of age, he would take what he long ago professed was his alone.
“Foolish girl,” Immari hissed as she came bustling into the suite. Full skirts snapping with her agitation, she hurried towards the windows. Closing them with such force the thick panes rattled, the casements creaking in distress. “On today of all days, you misbehave, threatening to bring his wrath down on us all.”
“It’s only another day,” Aida whispered, sinking to the floor to huddle tighter around the jagged ice lodged within her ribs where a heart once beat.
“Pah! Another day.” Immari offered no kindness as she grabbed Aida’s arm with pinching fingers. Pulling Aida up to her feet and pushing her hard towards the adjoining seating area.
Shuffling ahead of the angry maid, the only one allowed to touch and see her aside from Otaso himself, Aida’s dark eyes burned with tears. Not so much for what was to come. She understood this would happen since the moment she understood what the look in her guardian’s eyes meant. That the heat of anger and something far darker, while similar, were not the same.
Now she mourned for a life that would never be. If he controlled her every move now, it would be worse when he claimed her. She understood that, too. Gone would be the moments of reprieve, however short they might be, where she could sneak out into the lush gardens he kept for his herbs and plants. No more racing through the trees, feeling the sun tangling in her hair, scalding the life back into her frigid skin.
With Immari’s palm heavy on her shoulder, she took the smaller, daintier chair at the table situated before a grand mural of forest scenery. Somber gaze drifting towards the sturdy bulk of the seat opposite kept for Otaso’s far larger weight, Aida’s brows scrunched over the bridge of her nose, the faint lines of confusion joining the pursing of her lips. It was far too early for their daily luncheon. That was how Otaso caught her. He should have had his nose buried in dusty texts and the growling rumbles of his advisors for hours yet, but he’d come sooner to tell her he wouldn’t be joining her. Something that never happened. Immari was the one to ferry messages back and forth whenever Otaso sent word.
A faint knock on the door answered Aida’s question before she could voice her concerns to Immari. Bustling towards the small antechamber shielding Aida’s suite from the outside world, Immari made certain the thick curtain closed tight behind her before opening the door. She knew better than to sneak close to the curtain to eavesdrop, had earned a switch across her palms more than once for the act. Instead she turned her head, straining to listen for the rise and fall of the voice that spoke over Immari’s hisses.
Eyes going wide, Aida realized it was a male’s voice. Seeping inside the suite, it swaggered through the air to tease at her ear. A low rumble, intent and edging into furious as Immari continued her chastisement. Hand drifting to her chest, Aida pushed hard on the wild creature thrashing about inside of her chest, willing her heart to calm as it raced in chaotic circles. Banging around the cage of her ribs, it threatened to burst free as the male’s voice became clear for an instant before the door slammed shut.
Her name. A simple word, and yet on his lips it tripped down her spine on a charged bolt of lightning. The hysterical flutter of her heartbeat dropped, plunging headlong into her stomach where it pulsed and swam. Growing warmer with every breath as the hint of something astringent and spicy met her senses on a trickling draft.
“Aida,” Immari snapped, slamming her armload of goods upon the table.
Silvered domes resonated an angry hum as they jostled across the intricate tray. The sharp smack of wood coming together made Aida jump. Jarring her from her reverie as that warmth sputtered and died. A frigid pool laden with icy rocks set to break her apart.
“Remove your hand at once.” Immari’s umber gaze was as unyielding as the craggy ranges surrounding the castle and twice as foreboding.
Aida gasped, snatching her hand back and slapping it to the table where it trembled. A frightened bird left vulnerable and alone on the expanse of dark, rich wood. Fingers blushing the same pained crimson that stained her cheeks from where the tight line of her bodice had cut into the flesh. Thick welts marring the soft skin from where she dug them under the stiff silk.
“I…” Aida swallowed hard, the dry click of her throat loud. Shoving her spine flat to the chair back from where she’d leaned with such intent focus towards the lingering scent of the male. Tears brimming in her gaze, she sought and abandoned Immari’s eyes, their judgment licking over her skin in fiery bursts.
Lashes fluttering to clear them of their salty burden, Aida folded her hands into demure repose upon her lap. Slow, calming breaths did little to ease the tension rattling through her bones, but she strived for at least the appearance of it while Immari set out the small plates. Delicate porcelain with fanciful decoration, flowers and vines tangled and winding in shades of amber. Yet another gift from her guardian. A deep breath strained the tight bodice of her gown as she focused on the palm sized bird trussed and roasted. The thick currant red glaze gleamed in the weak sunlight, a drizzle of the syrup thick concoction over a selection of root vegetables giving the simple fare an elegant feel.
“Is it not early for this,” Aida asked in a tone that approached something normal, much to her surprise.
“You’ll eat now so you might dine with the Imperial Majesty this evening.” Immari paid her not a single ounce of attention, bustling around the table as if her incessant buzzing would make Aida hurry.
“They take their dinner much later than I do. Why on earth must I eat so—”
“You will need time to prepare, Aida.” With a flip of her wrists, Immari unlocked the large wooden case that arrived with Aida’s tray. Her dark lashes flew wide, lips drifting to gape before she lifted something from the case with reverent fingers. “His Imperial Majesty sent this for you to wear.”
