Kastali Dun
Claire kept herself busy in the days following the Vodar attack. She wasn't the only one. There was a frenzy within the keep. Everyone was worried that there would be another assault. Guards had taken to patrolling the corridors, moving in small units as they marched throughout the castle. The inhabitants were frightened too. Their fear was reflected on their faces as they rushed to and from their obligations. They never lingered in the courtyards and always spoke in hushed whispers.
Despite the king's absence, meetings in the throne room continued, overseen by the steward and the king's Shields. The keep functioned as it usually did, but the strain of the situation was unmistakable; everyone would rest easier once King Talon returned. That return was imminent, for King Talon was set to arrive a mere three days after the attack.
As was the custom for arrivals of important people, the entire keep was set to assemble in the large courtyard just outside the royal garden. Claire had never taken part in a royal greeting, though she had an idea of what would transpire.
Fortunately, Desaree was there to fill in the holes of her understanding. "Those belonging to the king's court," she said, "ought to dress in their finest clothes. The ladies cover themselves in their most expensive jewels and arrange their hair in exquisite styles. It is a sight to see. Even the keep's servants assemble in their finest attire. This is how the keep displays its grandness. It reminds the king of the life he is returning to. After his arrival, there is to be held a great feast in the dining hall."
It seemed superfluous, but for Claire, there was hardly a choice in the matter. Everyone was at the king's disposal, including she of all people. King Talon had made it perfectly clear more than once.
Because the arrival was such a big deal, Desaree spent upwards of an hour on Claire's hair that morning, twisting it and braiding it into tight knots of pure artistry. When the work was finished, she stepped back, grinning from ear to ear.
Claire looked at her through the reflection and said, "You continue to impress me, Des, but what's with the mischievous grin?"
"I have one final touch for your hair. Stay here while I run to my room."
A few minutes later, Desaree returned with a tiny bundle wrapped in cloth. "I got this for you yesterday in anticipation of the king's return." She looked immensely proud of herself.
"Des..." Claire's voice caught in her throat. "You did not have to get me anything. You really shouldn't have."
"Oh please! It was my pleasure. Besides, I know more about the capital's styles than you do, and I want you to look better than any lady here. This will be perfect."
Desaree handed Claire the cloth and she unwrapped it. A fine silver netting covered in tiny blue sapphires tumbled into her lap. She gasped, eagerly picking it up. The stones glistened and glittered in the light. "Oh Des! It's stunning. Where did you find it?"
"I snuck down to the Merchant's District yesterday. Verath escorted me. It was a secret because I wanted to surprise you. Here—" Des took the hair net and delicately placed it over Claire's updo, pinning it securely. "There. What do you think?" She held a small mirror for Claire to see the back of her head.
"I'm speechless." Claire turned her head back and forth to gaze at the net's sparkle.
"Good! I knew you would love it. All that's left is your gown." Desaree smiled then said, "Quick! It's almost time for your lessons. Over to your dressing area. I will gather your clothes."
Claire did as she was told. Her dressing area consisted of two full length mirror arrangements angled inward to each other. There was a small, elevated platform like one might see at a tailor's; it was centered before the mirrors. Nearby stood a large wardrobe full of gowns designed by Madame Rosanne. While Desaree shuffled around inside, obtaining the necessary pieces for Claire's outfit, Claire worked on getting undressed.
When she was done, she took another opportunity to study her skin. Her lips pulled into a frown. What she saw should have been impossible. The first time she had seen it, she had freaked out. Even now, she felt a degree of panic rising in her chest. On the skin over her ribcage, just beneath her left breast, was a mark. It was a tattoo of sorts. Moreover, it was unmistakable in nature. She might have been more astonished had she not done Sprite magic, but she had. She had created green fire, which just so happened to be powerful enough to vanquish the Vodar.
For the umpteenth time, she studied this mysterious mark in her reflection. Without thinking, her fingertips traced the lines. They were bluish-green and glowed with luminescence.
The luminescence wasn't nearly as bright as the first night. It had faded some, but that did not surprise her. Snippets of what she had learned in high school chemistry came back. Luminescence was similar to fluorescence and phosphorescence in that it created a glow of light. It was a spontaneous emission created by cold-body radiation. That meant the glow of her tattoo was probably created by electrical energy. In performing Sprite magic, she had somehow tapped into a reservoir of magical energy. She had felt it in the castle before too. Maybe that magical energy wasn't so different from electrical energy, and in performing it, she had forced the mark to appear. But how did the electrical energy of the world translate into the skin of her body? It all seemed absurd, and the more she thought about it, the more confusing it became. Chemistry was never her strong suit. At last, she shrugged and gave up, returning her attention to the shape of the mark.
There were two spirals that connected at their ends. One spiral went counterclockwise, growing larger until it straightened out. It led to the other spiral, which was clockwise. The two spirals evenly balanced each other—whatever that meant symbolically was beyond her. Scattered around the mark like paint splatters were tiny glowing dots of the same color.
Desaree had seen the mark too; fortunately, she had the good sense not to mention it again. Claire was grateful for that. It was going to take time for her to accept what was happening. Regardless, they both knew what it meant.
Claire's first instinct had been to go to Saffra. That seemed the most prudent thing to do before jumping to conclusions...The problem was, Dax had not yet woken up, and Saffra, in her grief, requested to be alone. Only Jocelyn was permitted to wait upon her, forcing Claire to remain patient for answers.
Daxton's circumstances were heartbreaking. Every time Claire thought about Saffra and what she was going through, she couldn't help tearing up. She wanted Dax to get well, but most of all, she wanted her friend back. Saffra was one of the only people she trusted here. If she could have helped, she would have, but Daxton's recovery was out of her hands. In the meantime, she couldn't bear to pull Saffra away. Sure, she needed Saffra now more than ever, but so did the commander.
Desaree came up behind Claire, distracting her from her thoughts. Together, they went through the rigmarole of dressing. After getting into her chemise and gown, Desaree helped her with the ties. The gown was pulled so tight that she could hardly breathe.
"How do the ladies stand it?" Claire gasped, her hand over her stomach as she tried to catch her breath. "Does it really need to be this tight? I never wear them this tight."
"Before I came along, you incorrectly wore every corset you owned. Do not think I missed that whenever I saw you, loose ties and all. This one is tight because that is how it is meant to be worn."
"Well, make it looser! I don't care." Claire tried to take several deep breaths. "It's ridiculous. I can hardly breathe. Not to mention uncomfortable, restrictive, heavy..." Just to prove her point, Claire tried to move and nearly tripped. "They are probably unhealthy too, if memory serves me correctly."
"Lady Claire, I insist you stop moving like a buffoon. The gowns are as they need to be. Besides, this is a special occasion."
"And what about every other day? I have to wear gowns then, don't I?"
"Yes."
"Ugh. Well, I still don't understand why I can't just wear pants, or whatever I want for that matter. In my world, people are allowed to wear whatever they want. Besides, Riders wear pants."
Claire had seen several Riders since coming to the capital, but only on a handful of occasions. Sometimes they came to dinner as honored guests of the keep, other times they had been in the keep on business. Most Riders wore their flying gear, which consisted of tight pants, boots, long sleeved tunics, and either padded or light armor.
"Firstly," Desaree said, "you are not a Rider. If you ever become one, I promise I will allow you to wear what you wish. Secondly, I am not sure if you realize it or not, but those Riders you refer to do not have titles higher than Rider. King Talon's mother never traipsed around in her flying gear when she attended to court matters. Perhaps this is a good time to remind you of something important. You are the king's ward—you must dress the part. A lady of the court does not go traipsing around in pants."
Claire snorted. "Lady of the court! Tcha! Right! I'm no lady. Don't let these fancy gowns fool you."
"Be that as it may, you have an appearance to maintain. This is your chance to prove yourself to everyone. You are not the dangerous outsider they believe you to be. Moreover, they expect you to make a fool of yourself. Prove them wrong! Show them how well you can fit in." Desaree sighed, as if her lecture were getting the better of her. "Listen, Claire, your customs are not our customs. Fight them if you want, but if you don't win people over like King Talon had hoped, what was the point of him making you his ward?"
Claire opened and closed her mouth several times before saying, "I guess you're right. It isn't easy, you know, fitting in here."
Desaree nodded. "It never is, but you are doing well so far. There. Finished." She took several steps away from Claire to admire her work.
Claire turned to look at her reflection in the mirror. Her smile faltered before turning mischievous. The gown she wore—which had arrived earlier that morning—was made of royal blue silk. Royal blue was a color reserved for the royal family. The fabric happened to be the same color as the sapphires that Desaree had slyly chosen for her new hair net. There were several layers that made up the skirt of the gown; it was heavy and full. On the top portion, the long sleeves opened wide at the elbows and trailed down to the floor, as was a popular trend in the capital.
The corset bodice laced up the back and was cut low in front. Desaree had pulled it so tight that Claire's breasts were nearly popping out. It made her look like a romanticized version of Anne Boleyn from the Tudor era.
"You look royal." Desaree's voice was dreamy. "What will King Talon think when he sees you?"
Claire was delighted. "I can hardly wait to see his irritation."
"I highly doubt he will be irritated." Desaree seemed to believe that the king was fond of her. The idea was absurd!
As far as Claire was concerned, there was no telling what King Talon's reaction would be, but she hoped it would be one of irritation. When she first selected the color, Madame Rosanne warned her that royal blue was a color reserved for the monarchy, punishable by imprisonment. While she was not part of the royal family, she was royal. This constituted a gray area, so she had no idea if she would be permitted to wear the color.
Once Claire was finished, she went to her morning lessons with Grand Mage Marcel. Marcel was particularly intrigued by her use of Sprite magic against the Vodar; they spent a great deal of time searching through Society texts for mention of green fire. At his request, she performed the feat several times on a pile of logs in the fireplace—for research purposes, of course.
After working with Marcel, she visited Mage Joren and then Mage Sepia, then she met up with Desaree for the midday meal. Her last lesson of the day was with Mage Targa. When Caterina saw her in her gown, her face turned a deep shade of angry red, affording Claire a great deal of satisfaction.
The day went quickly. Everyone in the keep appeared tense with the king's imminent return. When late afternoon arrived, it was announced throughout the keep that the king was set to return within the hour. Taking a detour to the assembly point, Claire stopped by the east wing of the keep to call on Dax and Saffra. There were guards standing watch outside. They nodded at Claire respectfully when she passed.
"Saffra," she called after gently tapping on the door. "Won't you join us for the assembly? The king will arrive soon." She waited for a short while until the door opened...slowly.
Saffra looked unkempt. Her face was puffy from crying. Claire's heart tightened to see her like this. Saffra looked just as surprised to see Claire's state. The Seer's eyes looked her up and down. "You have truly outdone yourself, Claire."
Claire chuckled. "I think you mean Des. She's to blame." Saffra's smile didn't reach her eyes. "How are you doing?" Claire whispered so as not to disturb the ever-sleeping Dax. "Is there anything I can do for you?"
Saffra shook her head. "No, but thank you. I appreciate your concern all the same."
"I would love for you to join us tonight, but..."
A look of longing transformed Saffra's face. She glanced over her shoulder before saying, "I do not have the heart to leave him."
"Your company will be missed, but I understand."
"Please have a wonderful time, Claire. And tell Desaree to do the same."
"I will," Claire said. Saffra gave her another weak smile, then shut the door.
As the afternoon waned, everyone assembled in the courtyard to wait for the king. Those of higher birth stood front and center. Claire stood framed in the middle with Bedelth and Jovari on one side and Verath and Koldis on the other. For the first time in a while, she hesitantly opened her mind to the sounds of the Drengr.
Almost immediately, she heard Reyr's voice. "Kastali Dun is always a pretty picture from the sky. It is good to be home." She wasn't sure who the words were meant for until Verath replied with, "See you soon, brother. You and Talon have been missed."
Several other Drengr thoughts pressed in around her. Her reflexes caused her to close her mind again. While she had gotten better at handling multiple voices, she still preferred to take a deep breath and relax until she heard nothing.
As she waited, she glanced about, growing more anxious. Lady Caterina stood one row behind her, several bodies down. Their eyes met and she was awarded a glare of disgust. Miss Witch was seething with jealousy.
The sound of blasting trumpets destroyed the silence. The noise was followed by ringing bells. The king had arrived. Excited cries echoed through the courtyard as people lifted their gazes and pointed at the sky. The approaching party had already started its descent. Claire watched the king's hulking, iridescent black shape as the sun's rays danced across his scales. Reyr's large golden form was unmistakable beside him. They were accompanied by a group of twelve Drengr and their Riders.
Reyr and the king detached from the group, which took off in the direction of Fort Kastali, and began descending in wide circles. Everyone's eyes, including Claire's, were glued to their draconic bodies. It was hard to describe, but Claire felt a great deal of relief. She reached into her skirt pocket and felt the Dragon Stones in their pouch. They had kept her on edge; it was no wonder King Talon hadn't wanted to carry them around. Perhaps with his return, she might prescribe a better alternative for their protection, likely something involving the Sprites.
Before Reyr and Talon touched the ground, they transformed into their human forms, landing perfectly with a muffled thud. They were dressed regally with their large Sveraks lashed to their sides. Naturally, the king was wearing a royal blue tunic the same color as her gown.
When they landed, a wave swept over the crowd as everyone went down on one knee to pay their respects. Claire did the same, following the actions around her. She kept her head bowed as she stared at the ground. Her hands remained in fists, clenching the skirts of her gown. Desaree knelt behind her, though she wished her friend could be beside her instead.
Glancing up slightly, she watched them approach until her gaze was suddenly filled with the sight of King Talon's polished boots. "Walk with me, Lady Claire," he said. His voice rang through the courtyard. Surprised, she looked up at him and found his hand outstretched, waiting to help her up.
For the length of a deep breath, she was frozen. Then she snapped out of it and took his hand to stand. When she touched him, the warmth of his fingers had a strange affect upon her. She glanced at his face, noticing how closely drawn his eyebrows were, then quickly dropped his hand.
He turned to the others in the courtyard. "You may all rise," he said loud enough for all to hear. The rest of the keep came to its feet. Everyone's eyes fell upon on her.
"Come," King Talon said, turning back to her. Her confusion grew. Was he serious? After being gone for over a week, she failed to understand his reason for singling her out. She looked at his face—a face that was so scarred she was reminded of his bravery—trying to find answers.
"Please, Claire, humor me if you must. Walk with me." He held his arm out for her. His features were blank, but his eyes were telling. There was a measure of hesitance within them, as if he feared she would refuse. If it was fear, it was needless. How could she refuse under such scrutiny? So she moved forward and took his arm.
Out of nowhere, the steward appeared, calling for the king's attention. Claire breathed a sigh of relief. Never had she been so happy to see him. She was rescued! "Your Grace! Your Grace, welcome home! There are several pressing matters. We must discuss them immediately."
King Talon turned. "Not now, Mathis. I will discuss business with you in an hour. Meet me then, no earlier..."
Mathis glanced at Claire with suspicious eyes before bowing deeply to King Talon. Then he melted into the crowd and disappeared. King Talon returned his attention to her, his face as unreadable as ever. "Shall we?"
Claire could do nothing more than nod. He led her away from the speculative crowd who whispered in her wake. A moment later, she realized they were heading straight for the royal garden. King Talon was looking for privacy. It was time to see what this was all about...
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