The Chessboard Undead Prince

Chapter the Seventh

"Go to the jeweller of Saratha and give him this message."

Saratha, named for the pointed Teeth of Saratha— rocks jutting out the Ice Sea off Tressden. Saratha traded with Tressden for gemstones, which were mined in Tressden, and as Saratha was world-renowned for their craftsmanship, it was a fair deal that benefitted both. Tressden stones were exported across the Empire of Glass as the most exquisite in the world.

Neesa curtsied. "As you wish, Milord." She closed the doors and went to find Elias to hail a carriage north.

And as the day faded into night, and the world outside fell silent beneath the cloak of twilight, Adonis surrendered to the embrace of sleep at four o'clock in the evening, his dreams haunted by the spectre of a future yet unwritten, where shadows danced with secrets and whispers lingered in the air like forgotten dreams.

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Ashe moved through the bustling corridors of the palace, the weight of the gown draped delicately over her arms. Servants flitted about, carrying pressed linens, maids dusting the gold and crystal objects of the King's, and rubbing down the banisters with oil, their hushed murmurs and soft footsteps adding to the symphony of the palace's daily routine. Golden rays of sunlight danced through the windows, casting intricate patterns on the polished marble floors. Ashe made her way to the laundry chamber tucked away in the shadowed depths of the Assassins' Quarters. Here, amidst the quiet hum of activity, she set about her task, filling a wooden tub with jugs of cold water. Never warm water as it would set the blood. The fabric of the gown unfurled like a river of silk, its pristine surface marred by crimson stains.

Ashe's hands moved with gentle determination, dipping into a container of salt crystals, each grain a whisper of remedy for the fabric's blemishes. A lock of her alabaster hair fell over her eye, framing her solemn gaze as she worked. Her features, a striking juxtaposition of white hair, dark eyes, and bronzed skin, held a rare beauty that belied the hardships she had endured.

Recollections of their past echoed in Ashe's mind, memories of captivity and the looming shadow of an uncertain future. Her features had captured many a buyer, all those men had not been able to pay Neesa and the price that the merchant wanted. Until the brothel owner could. He had offered them a home, food clothing, and safety from the streets. they would be well looked after. Ashe and Neesa's insides had turned cold at this man. He was more a devil than a man. They knew once they were sold, they would be taken away and they would work for a newly acquired debt: Clothes, lodging, jewellery, and training.

Ashe had wished that the merchant would be eaten alive by toads. And to whoever brought them, killed by their shrewish wives or lovers.

But before the price was hammered out, a younger man had stepped in and offered a different price. At least one and a half times six hundred crowns. He and the buyer had briefly spoken before he turned to the merchant and offered three times the original price. The Merchant had immediately sold them and he had unshackled their wrists and wrapped their shivering bodies in warm cloaks. Once in a carriage trimmed with gold and glass, traveling to the empire's capital, he'd told them what he wanted. they would not work as servants in a house. No one would hurt them or touch them again.

Adonis had made good on his promise. They were not chained, forced to hunch over brooms and wash for hours each day. They were personal servants to him, attending to his needs. Washing and folding of leathers and belts and scabbards. Dressing, preparing, and serving food. That was all.

With each stroke of her thumb, the gown was intended toward restoration. With meticulous care, she poured the water over the fabric, watching as the stains dissolved into oblivion, leaving behind a canvas of pristine beauty. The dress would have to be washed with washing soda and pressed. Yet, her thoughts lingered on the severed ties of corsetry, a reminder of the tailor's expertise awaiting them on the Island of White.