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Chapter 21 - Parched
Luella
Metheus was a fire stealer. I did not know what to make of it, but I was at least relieved that he was not the Ninurta. Nobody who looked deep into my eyes could possibly lie like that. Or could he?
The witches seemed terrified of the Ninurta. It could take any form and wreak havoc. It was within the realms of possibility that I was sharing my bed with it – him. However, from what I had seen of my husband so far, he only wanted to help.
He was about to agree to my terms when people started yelling at him about the attempt on his father’s life. Of course, that should take precedence. I could not imagine what it would feel like if anyone threatened my father’s or mother’s life. The loss of their magnificent power already bothered me to no end, making me feel as if I was responsible.
Still, my mind kept on returning to how Metheus was about to say yes. I wished it was more than just that – a little agreement. He was not the sort who would lie to make anyone feel better. Metheus would not tell me he loved me if he did not.
I was not surprised to see – feel - that he was no longer in bed when I woke up. The arm that held me close, heavy and soothing, was gone. Would he be going to the fields after what happened to his father? I quickly dressed and went downstairs.
I saw Rowali at the bottom of the steps, pacing. Because of all the excitement, I forgot that the young girl might be in distress after what happened to her father.
“Rowali, good day,” I greeted, not asking her how she was because her face said it all. She looked anxious, her long-fingered hands clasped together. Then, she rubbed those hands together. I did not know how many times she might have clasped and unclasped those fingers before I saw her. She could have been there for hours.
“Good day, Luella. I am happy to see you. Metheus is practicing with bow and arrow in the courtyard,” she prattled, perhaps out of nerves. “Later, you get to see him work on his sword. The ladies often gather when he does that. You may want to be there to show them that he is now married.”
“Indeed,” I smiled. “I will be there.”
“Then, let us go,” she exclaimed, pulling at my arm. She seemed eager to preoccupy herself, and I was also willing to go.
We walked towards the courtyard, with her leading me. Her hand seemed cool in mine. Suddenly, I remembered my younger sister, Carolina, and my chest ached. Metheus’ sister was several years younger, though, a cross between a sister and a daughter. Some women had children at a very young age and already had someone like Rowali at my age. I was glad that I could make this child feel a little better, even for a short period of time.
Would I have one of mine?
A child of my own. A baby wailing for me in the night, growing up to be a child running to see me, arms outstretched to be lifted. It did not seem possible.
For the past few years, I had been shoving the thought away. I wanted to focus on my niece and nephews: Samuel’s twins, Magda and Simon, and Carolina’s son, Alexander Xavier. They felt so far away.
I had shielded myself with the thoughts of a woman out of time like the one Carolina described as the modern woman. She said that when she was, in the 21st century, women could choose not to have children. They still felt whole and accomplished. They did not even have to be married.
For a time, I was content with being one – a modern woman in my time. Then the drought happened.
When we did reach where Metheus was honing his skill, my pulse raced with the sight of him.
I was not the sort of person who quickly got breathless. Bird shifters often had more oxygen content in their lungs. Even though I did not often shift to my avian form, I enjoyed this full benefit. Nevertheless, I was not ready to see Metheus without any vest or tunic in broad daylight. The sweat streaming down his back seemed to be tracing the outline of his muscles, flexed as he drew the bowstring back. The bowstring crackled as he released the arrow. My eyes reluctantly left his body and followed the zipping arrow to its target.
Rowali started screaming and jumping up and down as the tip hit the target. I saw that several young women had crowded to watch him. It seemed that Prozeus was open to both courtiers and peasants. Suddenly, I felt unsafe. It was easy for an enemy to slip into the palace.
The guards had taken their posts more seriously. I saw them standing in their assigned spots without much of a smile on their face. When I first arrived, they had huge grins on their faces. Still, how would they know who their enemies were?
“Luella, you should come nearer,” Rowali said, nodding at some women who had pressed closer to my husband. He seemed oblivious of the attention, though. His face had the same arrogance I remembered from when I first met him.
I obliged, although I did not feel any danger from any of the women. What they were doing to get his attention did not matter. His reaction was what mattered, and he did not seem to care.
“Metheus?”
He whirled around to see me, genuinely glad I was there. It was in the way his face softened and how his smile reached his eyes. There was caution there, too, but who could blame him? We seemed to be living during a dangerous time. Assassinations. Arranged marriage. Secret identity reveals. Seduction.
He beckoned to me with an open palm, and I acquiesced. I did not know if he did it for our audience, but he kissed me on my mouth in front of everyone else. I was not in Mogochislenia anymore. That was for certain.
Then, he belatedly and almost apologetically addressed his group of admirers and amused guards, “This is my wife, Princess Luella of Queenspell. From Mogochislenia.”
There were a few gasps, but Metheus did not care. His arm was still around me, pressing me close to him. Normally, I would have recoiled at making contact with anyone else’s sweat, but somehow, I did not.
I smiled at the crowd, hoping I did not look too foolish as my small smile widened into a grin. The whole thing seemed silly that I almost giggled. Then, he let go of me.
