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“Aurora, this is for you.”
He pulls a brown paper bag from behind his back.
I can smell the food in it, and my stomach practically roars at the salty, meaty fragrance coming from the bag.
“It’s not poisoned,” he answers my silent question. “I could have killed you a thousand different ways already.”
I step forward reluctantly and take the bag. “What time is it?” I ask him as I clutch the bag.
“After midnight. Now, Aurora, what you should know is that you were chosen by my Master, the Prince. That is why you are here.”
“What?” My shocked whisper resounds throughout the dungeon.
He ignores my shock and continues on. “My job is to ensure that you remain healthy and in perfect condition. In that bag, there is some salve for your wounds. The Prince wants me to take care of all aspects of you, especially because of your…uniqueness.”
My uniqueness?I take a step back from the cell door.Does he know about my magic?Fear flutters in my throat like a trapped papilion.
The naga continues to speak. “Because you are part of the dowry, technically you belong to Her Majesty, Vippera. She can do with you what she pleases. But because Prince Zalith chose you, you will be protected.”
Again, I do not miss the double meaning in his words.Will I be protected from her because they know I have magic?
The naga surprises me again by bowing to me and then leaving curtly.
How can they possibly protect me from Vippera’s cruelty?I think despondently as I listen to his footsteps fading away.
6
ZALITH
Iamble down the long, seemingly endless hallway, drawing ever closer to an inescapable future. I approach a set of doors, through which my future bride waits alongside her family, no doubt ready with a contract of engagement under their belt.
I desperately want to spin around and run away, but this dinner has been put off for so long already. There’s no getting away from it now, so it is time to face facts. I straighten myself up, taking a deep breath to collect myself before placing my hands on the door.
I try to enjoy these last few seconds of freedom, feeling what it is like to be untied to anyone else, to remain of my own free will. With a heavy sigh, I push through into the dining room.
The hall stretches on for fifty feet, a long table running through its center. A cloth is neatly placed from one table end to the next, upon which are pots and bowls of varying shapes and sizes. Three candelabras are spaced evenly apart, one in the middle and the other two towards either table end.
Hanging high on the walls are four lit sconces on each of the longer walls, sitting parallel to each other. Two sconces also sit on the shorter walls on either end of the dining room. Their glow casts an ambient glow in the hall, supplementing the interior with orange illumination.
A set of doors sit halfway through the hall, one on the right and one on the left, beside which stands a pair of servants ready to obey at a moment’s notice. Displayed proudly above each exit point is the flag of Lodra, red and black in color.
Below the two sconces on the far end of the room is a tall window, through which all of Lodra can be seen. Standing there waiting for me are my parents, Vippera’s parents, and, of course, Vippera Tikzorcu herself. All of them spin around to face me at my arrival, but my eyes are solely focused on my bride-to-be.
The Princess of Jalma is undoubtedly striking in her features, boasting bright white scales that almost blind the eye. Scales of red run along the rim of her hood and down her back in diamond shape formations. Eyes of the same shade look as though they’re hungry for blood, which I wouldn’t be surprised to find out was true.
Even I must admit she is beautiful, certainly the type of woman highly sought after by many of my kind.
Not me, though. As I walk up to greet her, I detect her energy, cold and vapid like a cruel, unforgiving winter. At the previous behest of my parents, I take her hand in mine and plant upon it the gentlest of kisses, feigning a smile at her as I draw myself up.
“Vippera Tikzorcu, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” I say, rehearsing the greeting line given to me by my parents.
“Zalith Andakya, you’ve certainly kept me waiting long enough.”
Our parents burst into laughter, but there is no such expression of amusement on Vippera’s face. Instead, there is only her icy glare befitting of her mien.
It brews an uneasiness inside of me. Seconds into our first meeting, and my worries are already proving to be true.
“Well, then. Shall we all take a seat?” I ask.
