The shores of Deira appeared on the horizon. Amaya went aboard to take a look at the place that was to become her new prison. The towers of the city rose in the distance. The white facades of the buildings almost shone in the morning sun. The blue roofs copied the color of the sky. Large sailing ships were moored in the harbor. Red flags fluttered in the wind. Birdsong carried through the air. The sun was pleasantly warm. The sun's rays sparkled on the turquoise surface of the sea. She had never seen such crystal water in her life. She was surprised at how fascinated she was by the sight.
"Welcome to Miramor, the capital of the kingdom of Deira," Prince Ciaran told her.
Amaya didn't say anything, she just continued to admire the beauty.
"Don't forget that he is the enemy," reminded Zariah to Amaya when the prince left to give orders to his soldiers.
"Don't forget that this is a hostile land where they will be more than happy to burn us as witches," Amaya told her. "It will be an advantage to have friends like him here."
They disembarked. They passed through the harbor and the fish market into the streets of the city. It was unlike anything she had seen up north. They walked along the cobbled streets of the city. The air was filled with the scent of roses and jasmine and many other flowers she did not recognize. Sweet music flowed through the country. People danced to its intoxicating melody. Amaya had no idea where to look first. Everything appealed to her senses.
"Do you like what you see?" Ciaran asked her as he caught her looking at the city.
Amaya came to her senses and stopped staring at everything. "It's definitely different than in Amorite," she replied diplomatically, not showing any fascination.
The news that the prince had returned spread quickly. Crowds stood in front of the palace gates to welcome him home. Some shouted joyful words of welcome, reaching out their hands to the prince, trying to touch him, and others shouted insults at the witch at his side. She was not tied down and got her own horse. The royal guards had to help them fight their way through.
They were ushered into the throne room where the King of Deira was waiting for them with Crown Prince Enzo at his side. The soldiers bowed. Prince Ciaran fell to his knees before his king. But Amaya remained standing.
"I would have expected someone who is to become queen to know to bow before the king," King Mael said irritably, directing his words to Amaya.
"You are not my king," Amaya told him. "I have not bowed before the gods and I certainly will not bow before you."
The king waved at the soldier with a fleeting gesture of his hand. He grabbed Amaya and dropped her to her knees, at the king's feet. The prince stepped forward because he didn't like how she was being treated, but the guards stopped him. The king gave his son a warning look. The crown prince smiled wickedly.
The king extended his hand to Amaya for her to kiss as a sign of respect. Amaya gave him a murderous look and did as she should.
But he shouldn't have done that, because one touch was enough to give her access to his mind.
Amaya's eyes went white as she delved into the bowels of his mind. She searched his past. She was looking for his secrets. She was turning his memories against him. It was only a split of a second, but it was enough to open old wounds.
The king violently pushed her away from him. Horror and fear flashed in his eyes.
"You have disobeyed my order and still dare to bring that witch here?" the king turned his attention to his son.
But before Prince Ciaran could say anything, Amaya spoke first.
"I suppose you're afraid of your own past, your majesty?" Amaya said. "You hate your son because his mother died in childbirth. You blame him for her death, but you don't realize that it was you who did it to her."
"Shut up!" the king ordered her indignantly.
How dare that witch talk to him like that? How does she allow himself to dig into his head? How did Ciaran dare to bring her to Deira?
Prince Ciaran pulled Amaya behind him as if to hide her from his father's wrath.
"Amaya can be useful. King Damon will want her back. We can negotiate. We can turn their gods to our side." he said.
Prince Enzo laughed. "Do you really believe that nonsense?"
King Mael silenced him with a wave of his hand. "Say, Miss Amaya, do sacrifices to the gods really give your kingdom as much power as is said?"
"The gods are fickle and certainly not merciful," she replied.
"In Amorite, you may be chosen by the gods, but in reality, you are just an ordinary murderer," said the king.
"With Amaya, we have an advantage that we haven't had before." Prince Ciaran argued.
"Amaya. What a confidential addressment. You have obviously become close during your journey." said the king. "If you want her so much, you can keep her. She will become your wife. And as punishment for your disobedience of my orders, you are finished as the commander of the army. You will return to your palace in Hiraeth and be the prince you are."
The prince stopped breathing for a moment. Both he and Amaya stood stunned.
"Why should I be punished for his disobedience?" Amaya couldn't bite her tongue back.
"You, young lady, can be glad that you will not be burned at the stake for witchcraft and instead have been given the honor of becoming a member of the royal family of Deira," the king told her.
"But the wedding will take place in Hiraeth," said the prince.
"On the first day of autumn," said the king.
"Now leave!" ordered the king. "And give her some clothes from the maids. This is not Amorite. It is improper when a woman wears men's clothing."
Prince Ciaran brought Amaya a dress.
"I won't wear the dress." she sent him away.
"You can keep your clothes when we get to Hiraeth, but now we have to silence my father. So get dressed." the prince told her.
Amaya reluctantly took the dress he offered her. She looked intently at the richly decorated silk.
"Do the maids usually come around here dressed like this?" she raised her eyebrows in question.
"I stole them from my sister," he admitted. "We should be gone before he notices."
Prince Ciaran was waiting for Amaya in the courtyard. She came in the company of General Marcellus. He didn't want to leave her with the royal guards.
"You look like a queen in that dress," he flattered her.
"I could have been a queen, but it seems fate decided that I would become a princess," Amaya replied.
"I guess I'm not the worst choice," said Ciaran, helping Amaya into the carriage. She was uncomfortable in the huge skirt. "Would you rather end up with a king three times your age?"
Amaya smiled involuntarily. "King Damon could be my father," she said.
"He could be your grandfather," said Ciaran.
"Do you know that I was originally supposed to marry the king's only son, Prince Tristan ?" she looked at the prince.
Ciaran looked at her inquisitively. She was looking out the window at the landscape flashing by behind it. Green meadows dotted with colorful flowers. She looked lost in the dreams.
"Did you love him?" he asked her. "Prince Tristan?"
"I was learning to love him," she replied, not even looking at him. "But I didn't love him. The heart cannot be commanded. But you also didn't seem thrilled about our surprise engagement, your highness."
Their eyes met. Ciaran didn't take his eyes off her.
"In the forest, you asked me if I believed in dark creatures and gods," he said. "I believe in you otherwise I wouldn't have kidnapped you."
Amaya turned to him. She smiled at him.
"If you were supposed to marry the king's son, how come you ended up as the king's bride?" Ciaran wondered.
"It happened after my fifteenth birthday. Something like a prophecy appeared that I would create an eternal king. King Damon wants to rule forever. He will try to win me back." she replied.
"What does it actually mean that you will create an eternal king?" he did not understand.
"Honestly, I don't know," she answered honestly. "I don't know how, when, why or who. All I know is that it will happen one day.''
"It must be amazing to see the future."
"Not really. Forever trapped between the past and the future. And I can't change any of that." she said. "Eternally trapped between the wrath of men and the wrath of the gods."
"In the throne room, you talked about my father's past. Have you seen my mother?'
Amaya nodded. "King Mael didn't really love her, he just wanted what he couldn't have. Your mother loved him, but she knew what he was like, she saw into his heart, and that's why she didn't give in to him," she answered his question. "King Damon is cruel, but your father, King Mael, is even crueler."
"How could you have seen that?" Ciaran asked her.
"Death has given me many gifts. One of them is that I can get into a person's head when I touch them," she admitted. "That's why I was locked up in that monastery, learning to control those abilities."
"Did you use it on me too?" he wondered.
"No," she replied with a mischievous grin. "I didn't feel like I needed it with you. You would tell me anything I asked."
"Of course."
"And if I tried, you would definitely feel it," she added.
⸸
The carriage stopped, but they were not yet behind the palace walls.
"What happened?" Prince Ciaran asked the general.
"There is a crowd of people standing outside the gates who have heard of the witch's arrival. They want to see a girl blessed by the gods," replied General Marcellus.
"I would expect the ghosts in the Whispering Forest to have convinced you that I am not a witch, General," Amaya said. "They are certainly in Deira as well, and summoning them will not be the slightest problem."
"I've had enough of dark creatures for the rest of my life, Your Highness," said the general.
"These people are here because of you, Amaya," Ciaran told her. "They believe in you as much as I do."
"I thought you don't believe in gods in Deira," Amaya wondered.
"People here have forgotten the gods, but not all of them. Some think you're a witch, others think you're a saint," said Ciaran.
"I'm no saint," Amaya said. "If they want to worship saints, they're worshiping the wrong person."
"I know," Ciaran smirked as if he knew her secret, and that scared her. "You're not a saint, you're a little goddess."
Amaya took a deep breath.
"Do you want to meet your people?" Ciaran offered her his hand, which she accepted after an almost endless moment of hesitation.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" General Marcellus asked the prince. "There may be people here who aren't exactly thrilled about her arrival."
"And they'll be even less excited about her becoming their princess," Ciaran replied.
Ciaran helped Amaya out of the carriage. While stepping out, she stepped on the skirt, lost her balance and fell, but the prince managed to catch her.
"I can't move in those clothes," she complained.
You never wore a dress in the Amorite royal court?" he raised an eyebrow in question.
"Definitely not like this. The skirts were cut out in the front so I could move freely. Adapted for combat and you could also ride a horse in them."
The large skirt of the golden dress spread out around her. A long train stretched behind her. The journey to Hiraeth took all day. It was already night. Thousands of stars decorated the dark skies. The sickle of the waxing moon cut through the thick darkness. Fires illuminated the space in front of the palace gates. There was a crowd of people waiting there eager to see the girl blessed by the gods.
Prince Ciaran offered Amaya his arm and she accepted it warmly. They passed among people. They reached out their hands, wanted to touch them. Amaya felt like a doll that the prince wanted to show off. His great victory.
People knelt before them.
"Ave deum." they said in unison.
Amaya fell to her knees. "Ave deum." she said. "Ave Terram. Ave Caeli. Ave Tenebris."
Prince Ciaran personally led Amaya to her chambers. It was the most luxurious thing she had ever seen. The Golden City may have known tinsel on the outside, but on the inside, it was dark and rotten. A cold place was hidden behind the palace walls. Her chambers here were gorgeous. She couldn't hide fascination. A room of marble and gold. Stone decorated with reliefs. Colorful mosaics decorate the walls. Creepers ran up the columns holding up the painted vaults. They mirrored the night skies. Blooming flowers filled the entire chambers with an intoxicating, sweet fragrance. In the middle of the reception lounge was a pond with goldfish. Their fins were like veils, trailing behind them, undulating in the water. She went out to the balcony. A warm summer breeze fanned her. The cicadas sang their songs. She had a view of the gardens shrouded in darkness.
"You better hide your excitement a bit or I'll think you like it here," Prince Ciaran said behind her back.
Amaya turned to him. He leaned his shoulder against the carved pillar and looked at her with interest. Amaya suppressed a smile.
"I have to admit that this place is quite different from Amorite and the Golden City," she said diplomatically.
"Do you like it here?" he asked her.
"It's like paradise against the cold walls of the Golden Palace," she admitted.
Ciaran took her hand in his and led her to the bedroom. Amaya snapped out of him.
"I'm not like that," he told her.
"Prove it," she told him.
"Don't you trust anyone?"
"Even the purest heart can betray. Evil is found in each of us."
"And yet you trusted me enough not to mess with my head," Ciaran remarked.
"I use my powers prudently," Amaya replied.
"I just wanted to show you that if you need anything, you can tell the guards outside your chambers or come straight to me," Ciaran told her. "Our bedrooms are connected."
He opened a secret door flush with the wall to reveal a dark, narrow corridor leading to his rooms.
"It's been a long couple of days. Rest and sleep well. If anything I'll be on the other side." Ciaran said and disappeared into his chambers.
Amaya stared at the invisible door for a brief moment. As if she expected him to come back. As if she hesitated whether to follow him.
She jumped into the huge four-poster bed. It was covered with richly decorated fabrics. She buried her head among a dozen pillows. It was so soft and comfortable. So big that five more people could fit in it. She lay there and listened to the divine silence. She allowed it to carry her into the realm of dreams.