Arwen has barely spent any time away from Klaude the past week. Every waking moment they spent in each other's arms and even beds just made them more smitten. And being with him physically hurt less and less after the first few times. And now she is beginning to enjoy herself more, enjoy being with him completely. Both emotionally and physically.
No one has found out yet and Arwen hopes Cierra doesn't especially, who knows what sort of punishment she would dish out.
But who cares? She's just enjoying herself and enjoying spending time with her lover, the person she cares about more than anyone else. Klaude Vale. How she disliked him when he first arrived, how things change when they properly got to know each other.
Perhaps Arwen is silly but suddenly their love seems fragile. It is strong yes in terms of the emotions tied to it but the more they care the more they have to lose, Cierra has told her that before. Always the same platitudes. Always the same harshness. Cierra always said it was to make Arwen strong but it made her a terrified person, anxious constantly.
But slowly Arwen is recovering. Slowly but she's doing it.
Today Arwen is going into town, a rare stroll in an outdoors place that isn't the grounds of Draven Mansion with Ebony Raduron. It is a shame that Ebony isn't her main guardian, she is certainly the nicer of the two.
Yes she is cunning as most Radurons are but she has kindness as well. Arwen has experienced that kindness and she has seen Ebony be kind to the servants and people in general. Unlike Cierra.
They walk in Tenebris Avenue today, on the dark cobblestone path of the street, overshadowed by the large buildings all around, all grand and towering over the entire city. Most of the houses are black, as is the trend with Umbra. The colour of their gifts and to set them apart from the rest of the island whose houses tended to be more white, dark red and so on. Here black isn't just for queens, it is also to pay homage to the shadow gift itself.
These houses are ancient as the rest of Umbra tended to be, still clinging to their aristocracy and the power that came with being independent from the rest of the island for Umbra is a city that never depended on the island as much as the others. They have always been powerful and in many old shadow families' eyes, like the Radurons, the Havens, the Valkova's - superior to the rest.
"Thank you for getting me out of the house," Arwen says as she and Ebony slowly reach the section of the Avenue where the shops and markets begin, where more people begin to appear. Merchants and the like.
It is dusk now, the city is beginning to come alive. Any naturalist and elementals permitted to live in Umbra on account of their specific trade/skill set simply had to adapt to the shadows culture. They preferred to be active in the early evening and the night on account of being nocturnal.
"You're most welcome my dear," Ebony replies giving her a smile. Wearing a midnight blue and black dress today, something very short sleeved paired with long black gloves.
She has her platinum silver hair in an elaborate up do today. That is her personal touch, Ebony always had the most intricate and beautiful hairstyles of any shadow noble Arwen had ever seen.
Constantly setting trends for the shadow women of Umbra's personal court to copy, well it's more a council now but it used to be a full fledged court in the Raduron glory days when Umbra had its full independence from Fennbirn and is mostly held at the Raduron's ancestral home - Raduron Manor, an enormous and sprawling estate. Not as big as the Volroy but still impressive. These days, sometimes court is held at Draven Mansion instead.
Umbra's people adored Ebony which is evident to the gazes of admiration and envy that she gets from passers by but as they see Arwen there is something else in their eyes as they behold her. All of them with silver or black hair, the palest or the darkest skin. That is the trend with Umbra. Nobody tended to have brunette, ginger or blonde hair unless they weren't fully shadow and even then, the shadow genes are usually stronger.
Arwen isn't sure how she feels about it as people change their behaviour when they see Arwen walking, all of their eyes glued to her, all giving gestures of respect albeit with odd looks in their eyes.
"Why do they revere me so much?" Arwen asks curiously as she warily watches all her people bow or nod their heads in respect as she passes. Every single one.
And more than a few have a tremble as they now or a glimmer of underlying fear in their eyes, well the merchants and towns folk do at any rate. And she also catches sight of raven banners, flags and symbols hanging or painted over several shops and stalls.
Ravens are sacred animals to shadows, they are a symbol of blessing, the shadow priestesses in particular even alter their own priestess robes to feature black feathers around the cuffs of their robes and along their neckline to pay homage to the birds, shadows believe ravens are smaller servants of the Goddess, with those black feathers and eyes mimicking the triplet queens so well. Black. Such a sacred colour for everyone on Fennbirn but it is also a colour, as the people of Umbra view it, perfectly suited for shadow queens.
"And why are their so many raven symbols," Arwen asks, glancing everywhere. Even some small raven symbols are painted on buildings.
"Ah that," Ebony starts, with a cherry smile, "the word on the street is that the city seems to have decided that the raven is not only a general blessing but a symbol of you, of the hope that is Queen Arwen, they view it as a mark of your strength I hear," Ebony says with an expression of admiration as she glances at some raven banners streaming on the outside of a shop, "and to your first question they revere you for similar reasons to why they have chosen to put raven symbols everywhere," she says, pausing and looking at Arwen with a small smile,
"because you are the first shadow queen in over a millennium Arwen, their queen, their first physical symbol of the Goddess for eons with a strong gift to match, of course you will attract their attention, especially now the Ascension has begun."
Arwen likes the faith people have in her, it makes her feel important and that she actually has a purpose though it is strange to have so many people counting on her. She hates that she almost appreciates some of the fear in their eyes, it makes her feel oddly powerful though she doesn't like it because that's how Cierra would feel.
In truth she doesn't need their fear, she needs their respect and would prefer their love. Some of them look with admiration it's true but many have that glimmer of fear. It is strange those fearful few look at her with such nervousness when Arwen cannot recall doing much to warrant it.
She wonders how fast word spreads in Umbra. Perhaps they all heard of the public execution in Lacton Square all those months ago. The way she killed that farmer. His face still haunts her. Just like Neela, that rogue priestess and a prisoner from years ago, her first kill Cierra ordered her to make when she was fifteen.
She supposes faces of those she kills will never really leave her, she just grows used to them staring at her with those menacing malevolent eyes, their cadaverous hands reaching out with the shadow of those gaunt faces, judging and condemning her even from behind the grave, marking her with their sorrows everyday until one day she is forced to confront the monster she has become, her wrong doings.
Yes, she is a queen, one born with a death promise, cursed to slay others or face her own inevitable demise. For a moment Arwen wonders if the faces of her sisters will join her series of nightmares - if she can even stomach the guts to kill them.
But she has no choice unless she finds some other option some other way. A possible escape. She doesn't think more on it now. But it is something to consider. Cierra wouldn't dare expect Arwen to disobey.
"I suppose I'm not used to it," Arwen says, watching the people around her nervously. They are delving into more crowds now and that makes her feel a little anxious, all those people make her a little overwhelmed.
She hasn't been out like this in a long while. Not this far into town for simple leisure rather than on Cierra's orders. Cierra put a stop to her freedoms after Arwen tried to run away when she was young with the help of some friends. They were naive but Arwen was so desperate, to evade the Ascension and the brutality of the shadows.
She was scared of Cierra even as a young child. After that Cierra kept the incident quiet so no one knew, her friends were punished discreetly and Arwen was not allowed to leave the house for years without Cierra's supervision.
"You will adapt soon enough," Ebony says with a faintly amused look in her lilac eyes, "for when you are queen crowned, the whole island will have its eyes on you, the first shadow queen of Fennbirn for centuries, you will have an impressive legacy."
Arwen keeps walking with her, trying to force a smile. It is a little intimidating. So many people have these expectations of her and she may not live up to them. She doesn't actually like attention at the best of times as it puts her on edge, she's always waiting for something bad to happen. It feels nice to have people's admiration but all the eyes on her make her a little uneasy.
If she actually manages to win the Ascension then everybody on the island will want a glimpse of her, not only because she will be queen crowned but because people are still intrigued by the prospect of a shadow queen and the gifts that entails. Perhaps it will not matter what they think of Arwen for she knows when she steps into the role Cierra will step into power - she will be the true queen crowned. Making all the decisions. Bending the island to her will. The ultimate control.
"I'm a bit nervous about it all truth be told," Arwen admits as they walk.
"No need to be nervous Arwen," Ebony says warmly, "I will be your side the whole time."
That makes her feel a little better. Just a little.
"Truth be told I regret how I failed you in the past," Ebony explains looking at her ruefully, "I should have done more to stop Cierra's terror tactics, she may be the matriarch of the family but I still have responsibility for you as well."
Arwen just watches her, unclear of how she should answer but Ebony keeps talking.
"And I want to make a vow to you," Ebony says, "that you shall never have to worry about Cierra's influence when you ascend to the throne, the power will shift to you."
Arwen just looks at her, puzzled.
"How?" She asks, "Cierra gets what she wants and she wants to be Head of the Black Council, she has always told me so and you know how she is, she will have the whole Black Council on her side in no time to pressure me into making any political decision that she wants."
Ebony just gives her a knowing smile, with a deadly glimmer in her eyes. Arwen eyes her warily, she hasn't seen such an expression on Ebony before. A little unsettling.
"Don't fret about the details my darling ," Ebony says, waving her hand casually, "just know that I am always here for you and that she won't cause your reign problems."
Arwen just nods, "thank you," and Ebony gives one of her award winning smiles, taking Arwen's arm and linking it with her own.
Sometimes Arwen forgets how much younger Ebony is compared Cierra. She is more an older sister than a motherly figure. And Cierra certainly isn't a motherly figure. But Arwen appreciates her. Ebony Raduron is certainly the nicest of the bunch, though their cousin, Orpheus, isn't bad, he's just an arrogant peacock who enjoys the privileges that his station brings. Cierra is the one who is truly cruel, truly heartless.
"Now how about we buy you something pretty," Ebony says, her tone light and humorous, "something to perhaps catch Klaude's eye at the next ball."
Arwen snaps her head to Ebony at that, blushing and Ebony gives her another knowing smile.
"I'm not blind Arwen I can see your feelings for each other as clear as day, he may be your suitor but you can't fabricate feelings like that," Ebony muses, steering them to a nearby jewellers, "I miss those days, of young love, so genuine and pure."
"You were in love?" Arwen inquires with surprise. She has never once seen Ebony show the slightest bit of romantic emotion towards anyone in Umbra. Arwen suspects she has her dalliances with both men and women. But love? She has never seen that.
Ebony chuckles a little at that, raising a pale eyebrow, "well don't look so surprised, us Radurons aren't all emotionless unlike my older sister."
"What happened?" Arwen asks then retracts, instantly feeling a familiar spark of anxiety come up. Cierra hated her asking too many questions, "sorry for prying."
"It's alright darling," Ebony says, her voice still cheery but with a darker look in her eyes, "well when I was your age I fell in love with a man, so handsome, so clever, eager to prove himself."
"He wasn't a shadow you see, he was a naturalist migrant
and," Ebony says, pausing a little as she gestures with her hand to the city, "well you know how Umbra is, people didn't approve of us being together, a Raduron and an outsider, he hardly had a penny to his name but I was so intrigued by him, he had so many stories, so many life experiences, he was good, kind, a hard worker," she says, sounding a little more sombre, "Cierra hated him though, said he wasn't worthy neither did my mother but her mood changed when I fell pregnant, Cierra was unwilling to carry on the family line you see so my mother was overjoyed at me carrying a potential heir."
Arwen gasps then, snapping her head towards Ebony in genuine shock.
"You were pregnant?" She repeats and Ebony nods, more than little pain dancing in those pale eyes of hers.
"A long time ago but my baby and my lover have long been dead," Ebony says and Arwen simply hugs her at that, embracing her tightly which Ebony returns tentatively, not used to random affection.
After a few moments Ebony pulls back, quickly wiping a rogue tear from her eye which surprises Arwen as well. Ebony never cries.
Ebony catches Arwen's stare of sympathy as she goes to give her verbal condolences but Ebony silences her with a feeble smile, "thank you for the hug but don't waste your pity on me darling, it's in the past and I survived all of that," she says pausing and giving Arwen a smile of comradery as they link arms again and begin walking slowly, "we are warriors you and I, survivors, and that's how I know you're going to win this year."
Arwen wants to talk about Ebony's past more, tell her how sorry she is that she had to go through that. For Goddess' sake. Losing her soulmate and her child? How did the child even die? Her mind is spinning with questions but she catches the warning look in Ebony's eye and the fake nonchalance in her expression so Arwen follows Ebony's lead, going on to more casual conversations.
"So you're an oracle as well, with an affinity for seeing into the future? You never cease to surprise me Ebony," Arwen says jokingly, steering the conversation in a different direction.
"Thankfully I'm only a shadow, otherwise I would be legion cursed," Ebony says, "I just have intuition."
"Well I've never seen you be wrong before so I hope you're right," Arwen replies, feeling that familiar pit of anxiety flare up.
At all the uncertainty of her future. The Ascension is now. No turning back.
"I'm always right," Ebony remarks, walking towards one of the last shops on Tenebris Avenue as the moon slowly starts to rise. A dressmakers and tailor shop where two women stand outside. Similar in feature but not in age.
Handing Arwen a velvet purple bag of silver coins Ebony turns to the queen and smiles, amused, at her confusion,
"I know it's a little unorthodox but if you want to pop into the dressmakers and treat yourself to a new gown you can," Ebony says warmly, "in the mean time I have some business with the Valkova's I need to take care of, I'm about to introduce you to them."
That has Arwen intrigued. The Valkovas? They are another powerful shadow family.
The Radurons. The Havens. The Valkovas. They essentially control Umbra as the wealthiest and strongest of the shadow aristocrats in the city. The Radurons have the main seat of power, the Havens have considerable influence over certain farming regions and the Valkovas own half the land in the city.
"Alright," Arwen says warily, "what's this business about?"
Ebony doesn't get a chance to reply before they have reached the two women.
The older one looks just a little younger than Cierra and the younger one looks around Arwen's age, they both have stunning dark skin, though the younger one's is a fraction lighter.
They both bow as they see Arwen and Ebony approach and she gives them a polite smile.
"Queen Arwen may I present Lady Odessa Valkova and her daughter, Carmen Valkova," Ebony announces.
Arwen has seen Odessa before she is sure. At the rare occasions Cierra would hold Umbra's court at Draven Mansion.
Odessa is pretty with those deep grey eyes of hers and her plump lips coated in a chocolate brown shade that went with her dark skin tone perfectly. Her hair is pure white, loose in several dreadlocks adorned with silver charms with purple gems on them, matching her expensive looking plum purple dress that also has white on it, with intricate patterns covering the sleeves, hem and bodice. Odessa has no fine lines on her face yet, unlike Cierra's, but wears that cutting stare that is common among the shadow nobility, it makes Arwen a little nervous.
The older Valkova gives her a brief assessment with that piercing stare and then the the woman turns her attentions back to Ebony, inclining her head.
"I hope Keir and your youngest, Demetria and Damon,
are all well Odessa," Ebony remarks politely.
"They are well thank you," Odessa replies, "Keir wanted to come but I thought it best he stay at home with the twins, no need for him to be involved in our business."
Arwen raises an eyebrow. She is guessing Demetria and Damon are the Valkova twins she's heard about briefly, likely younger than Carmen if they have stayed at home.
"Yes I think that's for the best," Ebony responds sweetly, "shall we go somewhere more private to have our conversation."
Odessa nods turning to her daughter, "Carmen stay with Queen Arwen, make sure she is accounted for and help her select a new gown."
Arwen properly looks at Carmen now. Who
is easily the most beautiful woman Arwen has ever seen. She doesn't have a petite waist like Arwen but she has a curvy body, full hips and the like - she looks healthy and glowing. Her rich dark brown skin is coated in elaborate silver jewellery, though her necklace centrepiece features an emerald with two smaller emerald on each side of the silver chain.
Her hair is more a silvery white, like Ebony's, rather than her mother's pure white hair. And her hair is mostly loose apart from two strands near the front of her hair which have emerald/silver beads that go all the way down. All to match her pretty green gown, such a nice forestry green colour that Arwen feels envious of.
The matching emerald necklace she wears even fits perfectly on her generous cleavage. She has voluptuous lips like her mother, expect hers are coated in a dark wine coloured shade and she is tall with an imposing yet refined demeanour, with the same dark grey eyes as her mother.
"Good evening your majesty," Carmen says, with a slight smile - inclining her head as she opens the door and Arwen follows suit.
The attendants in there bow and come to fuss over Arwen but with a stare from Carmen they nervously go back to their business and Carmen walks forward between the mannequins with elaborate dresses with all the latest fashion, tracing her fingers along the trains of the dresses then turning back to Arwen.
"So now just between us girls, how do you decide on choosing dresses between black," she drawls, "and black." She says, chuckling to herself lightly.
Arwen smiles awkwardly, unsure of how to answer. She doesn't interact with many other girls her age, she doesn't know how she's supposed to act. And shadows aren't exactly known for their kindness.
"Well queens blacks aren't really a choice and my household procures my clothes for me," Arwen says carefully, still unsure of Carmen Valkova's temperament.
She smiles at that, "don't you enjoy visiting the dressmakers or town?" She asks, "Tenebris Avenue is rather beautiful in the moonlight," she locks eyes with Arwen again with a smirk, "not that you or I need any light to see in the darkness,"
Arwen liked the tenor of her voice. Such an interesting voice, it reminds her of violin for some reason, a sharpness yet eloquence to it at the same time, a refined voice composed of careful notes and meticulous melodies.
"I like visiting the town but it's rare that I'm permitted to go without a massive hoard of Raduron guards which kinda of darkens the mood of the trips," Arwen says with a faint touch of humour.
"I can imagine," Carmen replies with another one of those small smiles, "when you're queen crowned you'll have a whole queensguard by your side but I expect you'll have more control over where you can and can't go in your queendom."
Her queendom? That sounds so foreign to Arwen. All she's ever known is Umbra. One city. And Umbra isn't exactly in close touch with the rest of Fennbirn, it's still adjusting to officially being apart of it again. She doesn't know much about the different cities' cultures, Cierra discouraged it even. She said only Umbra was worth learning about.
"If I become queen crowned," Arwen says as they go to a more quiet and empty part of the shop.
Carmen snaps her head towards Arwen at that, shaking her head, "When you become queen crowned, you have to be more certain about your own capability if you're going to kill the other queens and rule."
She says it so matter of factly and Arwen knows she's right but she's not used to strangers speaking so bluntly to her, usually they were nervous when they spoke to her, some shadows seem to be in a perpetual state of shock that they actually had a shadow queen in this cycle.
"I beg your pardon?" Arwen says.
And Carmen tilts her head slightly, looking at Arwen in a peculiar sort of way, "well there's no point us having a conversation if we have to follow airs and graces, pointless police formalities and the like," she says, moving closer to Arwen, "it all gets very dreary, wouldn't you,as a queen, prefer someone who just spoke to you honestly?"
"I suppose," Arwen says still looking at her warily.
"You're unsure of me aren't you?" Carmen says, reading Arwen's emotions, like she is simply reading pages of a book, and laughs to herself a little, "well for Goddess' sake if we're going to be friends you're going to have to learn to adapt to my directness I'm afraid."
"Who says that we're going to be friends?" Arwen questions faintly.
"Well technically I said 'if' so there's no real confirmation there," Carmen says, walking past Arwen as if she isn't even standing there and starts looking at a black mannequin wearing a lovely black ball gown, the material even gives the illusion of the dress being crafted from feathers.
"But we might as well be," Carmen continues, still admiring the dress, "a queen needs friends, the throne is a lonely place, full of deceit and corruption, that's why I like my bluntness you see, so people know exactly where I stand."
Arwen nods, "I can't fault your logic but I may need to get to know you better before I trust you."
"Well of course," Carmen says, spinning to face her and turning away from the dress for a moment, "oh you're wise not to trust me, don't trust anyone, not fully at least."
"So I shouldn't trust you," Arwen asks, a little amused.
"Probably not," she remarks drily, walking closer to Arwen, "I'd like you to but I'm just giving you the advice, never wear your heart on your sleeve or someone might poach," she says softly, circling her finger just above Arwen's heart before she grabs Arwen's hand unexpectedly and pulls the shadow queen towards the dress she has been admiring.
"This dress is made for you," Carmen announces after a moment, checking the price tag, "it's rather expensive but you have the key to Ebony Raduron's famous pursestrings," she says with an eyebrow raise, "so it's not outside the limit."
"It's certainly unique," Arwen says, studying the material that makes the dress look like some of the bodice and gown are made from black feathers, "this dress reminds me of a bird."
"I think it's inspired from a raven," Carmen states, "which is fitting since many people in Umbra, well here in the west at least, say that the lucky raven is a symbol of you now."
"A tad superstitious," Arwen says and Carmen laughs.
"You are the promise of future, of progress, of change, which our people have not had in a while," she says, small shadows materialising at her palms as she lets them run across her hands for fun, "I think it's fitting that our symbol of a blessing is now unofficially your symbol."
"Am I to be considered a saint now?" Arwen asks, watching and marvelling at how controlled Carmen's shadow gift is.
Arwen knows Carmen is just demonstrating her gift for the sake of it, perhaps to impress Arwen (which has worked) but it's really hard to properly control the darkness that shadows can craft, will it to stay in certain forms like Carmen is doing by containing it to smaller forms.
"Not a saint," Carmen says shaking her head and her shadows suddenly disappear as she snaps her fingers and calls over the dressmakers' assistants to press and wrap the dress before turning back to Arwen with a sly smile,
"the Goddess"