Chapter 2

The entire Regnum is crowned on the apex of the Cerulean waterfall, thick blankets of blue aluminium water plunge over the face of the mountain, gushing over polished rocks. Its clamorous passage at the foot rages with white froth at the bottom, stirring a whooshing vortex.

The view from my bedchambers grants me a one-hundred-and eighty-degree exhibition of the Prime province. In between the chains of goliath highlands is the Eider Valley, lapping with rolling hills in every hue from new spring grass to deep forest pools of luxuriant foliage. Settlements and villages sprawl across the fertile plain. Tributaries of fresh waters that the Cerulean waterfall provides, fills creeks and side streams for the multitudes below. Beyond in the east, the sun clings to the ridge, golden petals of light stretch outwards into the fiery blaze of a morning sky. The curtains bound to the neck of the white columns billow, aroused by the breath of dawn.

A deep grumble echoes into my chambers—the heavy door opening. I twirl around, already bathed and garbed in a gown of the richest blue hues and detailed with golden embellishments. Thazula and Pinta enter urgently, both of them my handmaidens, uniformed in azure blue and white.

"Adalia, the Domina requests an audience," Pinta squeaks, her voice high-pitched and saccharine.

"After the Domus has spoken with you," Thazula adds. "He awaits you in his study."

"And the Domina has a luncheon prepared in the gardens," Pinta concludes, finishing each other's sentences."

I make my start to the door. "Very well. Thazula, once my sister wakes, extend my mother's invitation to her. If my deduction about our imminent discussion is on par, I would feel at ease with her by my side."

Thazula sends Pinta a fretful look, an expression which she herself mirrors.

I pause. "What?"

Thazula's eyes flare comically. "Nothing, my' Hera, but… the Domina had stringently expressed that you alone must come. Though it is not my place, I advise you to comply with her demand."

I resume my walk out of my bedchambers. "My mother does tend to procure a highly combustible temperament whenever she is near—you would think she would be accustomed to her by now. Or at least learn to tolerate her. Seliah has dwelled within these walls since I was a child. I worry… I worry how my mother will treat her once I'm gone."

"She still has the Domus to watch over her," Pinta says, following me out. "He would never allow any kind of ruin to befall her."

"But my mother would," I point out. "And what happens when he perishes? She will be left to the mercy of the one person that despises her. No, there is only one way I can protect both my Regnum and my sister."

We bid the journey to my father's study in silence. The Regnum of Valwa has stood for countless cycles and through the ages it has been remodelled with each era, but the design has remained the same. The interior colour scheme is a bright royal blue with threads of gold. The centennial, velvety wallpapers are ornate with infinite patterns that are interwoven with golden edgings. The pearlescent floors are carpeted with runways of blue coverlets. The Valwa Regnum houses eighty bedchambers, seventy bathrooms, and twenty staterooms with lounges speckled through the west and east wing. In addition to a dining hall, two primary kitchens and a drawing-room.

We make our way through the blue labyrinth to emerge on the main stairwell connecting all four landings. The protruding galleries all align with each other from the top to the bottom floor. We all descend, then we travel down the foyer that opens up to the hallway of history. Every fallen Valwa on display, their memory is chiselled in stone, a lineage of pedestalled busts that line the flanks. Only the entire front entrance of the Regnum is forged in white alabaster. Everything in sight is immaculate with a strip of blue that runs down the Persil white floor.

When we reach the entryway to the Domus's library, the rest of them halt, whereas I continue through the large Tudor archway.

The library is great in size and impressive in stature. I walk down the wide pathway flanked by towering bookcases that are organised in unending rows that seem to travel endlessly. The length yawns ahead and the ceiling dares to brush the sky. The walls are lined with bookcases that go far beyond reach, only accessed by a spiral stairway in the corner.

Our Regnum's library is a haven for those who seek untainted knowledge. Our ancestry is renowned for its aged wisdom. The blood of intellects. Over time, our forebears have gleaned knowledge from all the points of the realm, garnering Urium's history in the form of ancient texts, books of lore, and mythical tomes. Now all that wisdom has found a sanctuary within these walls.

Eventually, I reach the end. The pathway expands to an open and spacious area with a furnished wooden desk in the centre, stacked with gilded tomes and surrounded by bookshelves. Father stands before a soaring shelf with his back towards me, his eyes scouring the spines of the books.

"You wished to see me, father?" I ask evenly. Though inside, I tremble.

Fear pulses within because I know what he will say next.

He rotates around, looking at me with a solemn expression.

"Yes, but you will not like what I have to say."

I entwine my hands, stilling my fiddling fingers. "I will live."

Father releases a humoured breath from his nostrils. His dull, cobalt eyes twinkle with amusement. His hair is as grey as dreary storm clouds, with skin just as pale that mourns its lost youth; cheeks sunken, drooping in despondency. Despite his age, he does not let it tamper with his tall frame. His shoulders are fixed in a rigid set, chest puffed out in inherent pride.

"I have confided in you about the strain I have endured in the Decuria these last few cycles. Tension brewing. None of them comprehend the coming peril that will not only put our province at risk, but the whole of Urium."

Unlike the other realms. Urium is segregated into the nine provinces of old. A monarchy reigns over each kingdom, but the High King rules over us all. The realm is governed under every edict that he issues and that the High Tribunal oversees; a royal council of kings and queens where the fate of all is decided on a grand scale.

The Decuria is a secondary court of law, which is where all principles and regulations are appealed and passed unto the High Tribunal to be legitimised and made inedible. A court of politics where the realm's welfare is discussed, from the upkeep of peace treaties to commercial health and variants of trade. The Decuria is composed of Domuses, Lords in their own right. Domuses on their own possess a wealth of lands across the kingdoms and supply both towns and cities with sustenance and supplies that even the royals depend on. The royals may have the authority to command, but their power comes from the Domuses. My father, Domus Valwa, is a member of the Decuria. And being the daughter of both a Domus and a Domina, that makes me a Hera.

He pauses, staring at me with a look that impales me through and through. "When I perish, all my lands and titles will be lost. Therefore, you must make an fruitful match; a way to keep the Regnum of Valwa standing. Yes, our lands will be overturned to your future husband. Nevertheless, it will not go vacant as it has with other Valwa estates."

"Father. I know of this. You know I do, because mother will not let me forget it—not even for a moment's breath."

"I say this because the time has come," he says with the same tenor as one relaying the news of a recently deceased relative. "Your mother has acquired a litany of eligible suitors. That is why she has sent for you. However, I have made sure that, though it is enforced, you will at least have the ability to choose."

I have known from birth that my fate is already written. My future is shaped by hands that are not my own, and I have come to accept it. So tell me why does it feel like a gaping void has opened in my chest, somewhat small but devastatingly infinite.

"There are no alternatives to exhaust," he says thickly, impounding his own upheaval, unsettled by my silence. "Do you think I want this for you? Do you think I want this for my Regnum? With no true successor, our legacy will be evinced from existence like footprints in the sand. At least through an advantageous marriage, there is some semblance of hope, an illusion of continuity that our line shall endure through you—only you."

"I know." My voice is surprisingly steady. "I am ready to do my duty as you have trained me to do."

He fixes me with a flinty stare, like he's displeased with my equanimity. "That is all you have to say?"

My teeth bite into my words. And I proceed with caution. "What is there to say? I know what must be done."

"Enough of this pretence," he says. Remorse casts a pall across his face like a shadow. "You may refuse to share the contents of your heart, but I see your anguish. You are a wild spirit and wild creatures are not to be tamed. It is why you and Seliah gallivant into the woods and spend your time amidst the people of the Prime."

I drop my gaze to the ground like a scoundrel found guilty of their crime.

"I do not say this to chide you," he says, his voice filling with warmth. "Your mother will do that part for me. It merely wounds my heart that I might condemn you to a life of great unhappiness simply because you possess the wrong genitals."

I break into a smile, sneaking a glimpse of him.

"It is a shame, for we both know you are stronger than any son I could have had. The true travesty is having your strength and skill wasted on something as meaningless as embroidery." Compassion softens his face, only by a degree, and he looks back at me with a neutral expression. "Your mother has taken every precaution. You will have time to get to know him, and him you. If he is a good man, love will follow."

"Though it hardly matters," I mumble. Louder I say, "I am ready to do my duty because you have made me ready. You needn't sound like you are sending me to the gallows."

He rounds the desk, strolling towards me. "It is not the prospect of a marriage alliance that unnerves me." He stops in front of me. He tips my chin downward to plant a kiss on the crown of my head. "We may roll the dice, but the Highest determines where it falls."

***

The grove is designed as an amphitheatre of greenery.

A circular peristyle with thirty-two pilasters that act as buttresses for the arcades, supporting thirty-two Ionic columns. The pilasters are all made of deep-blue dragon skin stone. The vibrant colour scheme helps offset the brilliance of the sparkling white in the arcades and the vases on the cornice.

My mother sits across from me at the outdoor table, set up with a high tea layout. Everything is untouched but the bundles of parchments my mother has a grip on, holding me hostage under her unrelenting stare, like she can read my every thought. She looks away to winnow through them thoughtfully. My hair is fair but hers is as dark as winter wood. My skin is like hers, tawny, and her eyes are like mine when I'm enraged; a dark emerald.

"You do understand what is at stake?"

I free a wearisome breath. "I do."

"You know that reputation is all." Her varnished nail taps the parchments. "These are viable matches, but are you? You should be the epitome of wisdom and girded in grace. Instead, you take jaunts into the woods and you besmirch our good name by fraternising with filthy peasants. We already have blood ties to that half-breed to sully our repute. Your ill-mannered behaviour only does us a further disservice."

Anger takes a bite of my calm. "You will not berate her again, not before me or any other."

She disregards me with dull-eyed nonchalance. "Other than the events that you are required to attend for one of your nobility. You make no genuine effort, you have dismissed party invites from the other Heras—"

"Seliah and I attend many parties that are so bleak, it makes me want to pull out my own eyes."

"Not as many as the town festivals or village reveries, you both bask in. I'm sure many have caught wind about the uncouth, unsophisticated philistine who is dictated by her whims. Your perceivably poor sense of decorum, and lack of conformity to conventionally accepted standards of behaviour are surely bothersome to the well-endowed families of these men."

I check my nails for invisible dirt. "I have met most of the elite families of Urium, most of them are fond of both Seliah and I."

Her lips twitch into a snarl before she assumes an even-handed expression. "Let us hope their opinion of you has not altered. You know how noblewoman have nothing better to do than wag their tongues."

A smile steals across my face. "They are too greedy to care. Many Noblemen have coveted father's lucrative holdings and I'm the only golden key that can grant my future husband and his family the Valwa fortune. I honestly doubt the rumour of my behaviour will deter any of them."

She gives her accord in the form of a dignified nod. "You're not wrong about that." She rifles through the parchments. "Let us begin, shall we?"

Mother begins, dumping a horde of information on me about each man and his family. But the more she speaks, the more her voice recedes into the distance. It was heart-warmingly kind of my father to include me in a decision that changes the very fabric of my fate. Nevertheless, guilt paws at me still. Though there is nothing more I want than to safeguard my Regnum. There is a wan flicker of a voice that whispers something different.

My eyes fly up, looking past my mother to Seliah, rounding the curve. The beams of golden light wash over her, flattering the earthy undertones of her skin; a rich bronze like the afterglow of dusk. Her dark locks refused to be bound, her hair escaping its hold, idle curls framing her face.

"Seliah," I greet welcomingly.

My mother's lips seal and she glances down at her shoulder. "Hm," she hums scornfully. "I knew I smelt something rotten in the air. This is a family discussion, not for wretched half-breeds."

I flash to my feet; the chair scraping back. "Mother, I will not tell you again. Do not speak ill of her. To undermine her is to undermine me. She is my blood, she is my sister, and she is our family."

A malicious laugh seeps from her lips. "Her worth is equivalent to a stray your father plucked from filth out of pity." She releases a wry scoff. "Less so. At least an animal has purpose. She has even less value."

One servant breaks their blank-faced facade to offer her a heartening look. Seliah returns the smile and turns back. I shoot my mother a look, but her gaze is out of range. I speed up to chase after her, following her trail through the hedgerow.

"Seliah, wait, please!"

She marches on, arms swinging at her sides. "No need to comfort me, dear sister. I'm used to her soul-piercing words by now."

I flank her. "She doesn't mean it, her true ire is reserved for father. So since she cannot take it out on him—"

"She takes it out on me." She brings us to a sudden halt. "I have been bearing the brunt of her resentment for many cycles, it's going to take a lot more than that to rile me."

I give her a pointed look.

She rolls her eyes. "Why would you invite me to sit with her? Dinners are strenuous enough without having additional time to spare within view of one another."

"I beckoned you because I already knew what the conversation would entail. Mother has found me suitable matches and father has given me the power to choose the man I'm to marry. I invited you because I wanted you to help me choose."

She looks away momentarily, a troublesome look steeps into her face. "Though I want only the best for you, and I respect that you want to honour your duty. I want no hand in the union that will ensure your misery. You can lie and veneer your words with noble sentiments, but I know your heart."

I raise a shoulder. "Life isn't fair, you only now just realising it? If I marry well, it gives you social leverage to make an advantageous match, well above your station. So when I'm gone and father has passed, you will not be left with nothing—"

"I do not care—"

"I do. You may not think of these things, but I do. I do not see my duty as a burden, I see it as my way of safeguarding those I love, those present, and even those still to come."

Seliah frees a sorrowful breath, her eyes glassy. "The responsibility should not be yours to carry alone."

"But it is," I say with a sad smile. "So it's in good hands."

She gives me a wry look. "I say we run away, just you and me, and we lead a simple life somewhere far from Armathis."

I snort. "It would never work because there is nothing simple about you."

Seliah flaunts a stunning smile. "Don't I know it, darling." She comes to me and loops her arm around mine and steers us back. "Come, let us return to the dreadful Domina, and find you a deserving husband. Which shall be a difficult task."