Chapter 5

The day dawns crisp and clear. The rising sun casts a rosy hue across the morning sky. Golden fingers of sunlight light up the scene. This time the spectacle is not witnessed from my bedchamber's ledge, but outside. The Regnum adorns Mount Cerulean. And on an attached extension is an open courtyard that flanks the edifice like an oversized balcony. Floors of dust-swept sandstone, widespread and empty, which is why all of my practical training is done here.

At least it was.

I find it amusing that my entire purpose is to marry well for my family. But my father taught me as a father teaches his son. This is why he allows me to roam as I have, and speak as I do. Mother resented him because of it. She rants on how I need to learn more on how to be a wife, a wife of a Nobleman. Or more desirably—on her part—a wife of a royal. I want to secure our line and protect my Regnum. Differently. Not in the way of a 'woman'. But in the way of a protector. I don't even know what I mean by it.

My ears flinch. Seliah is by the entranceway. I turn my face forward. I hear her shoes click on the floor, gradual and each one louder than the next. Soon she joins my side and plants her folded arms on the head of the railing. Even though I am one. I loathe noble people. They are two-faced, insincere, prideful, and simply careless. The only things that interest them are what can inflate their ego or benefit them in any way.

Which is why I prefer the company of my fellow townsfolk. And that is why I attend all local festivals and why I venture into town habitually. To the point that I have mastered many of their dialects: Ashwin, Torin, and Eryan. All considered primitive to the highborn.

For the first time in a long time, I have not visited in days. All in the realm know of the decree of the King Trials. This means so do all my friends. People who are true of heart. This is why I fear if I bid them farewell, I will never see them again. I notice she's wearing her satchel; the strap is secured across her torso, the brown leather bag sidling her hip.

"I am not going."

She gapes at me. "Oh, yes, you will. I am sure you have the whole town worried, and you swore you would visit Reeva. She has been working on the design for so many moons. And has been so eager to show you."

My obstinance persists. I lock my gaze forward.

"Adee, your airship departs tomorrow." Solemnity irons her tone flat. "You will leave all the commoners of the Prime heartbroken, if you leave without a farewell. You owe it to them, Wren and all the others."

The gravity of her words shifts my world off its axis.

"If I do that...my departure will become more...real."

Seliah lets out a sullen sigh and places a comforting hand on my shoulder. "What needs to be done. Let it be done. This is not farewell forever; you will return but with a new title, win or lose. Yes, your life is changing, but it can be for the better if you decide to see it that way. An opportunity instead of a conundrum."

A smile pierces my gloom. "Since when did you become so wise?"

She grins and playfully nudges my shoulder with her own. "Well, I am my father's daughter."

Yielding to her words, I say, "Alright, you make a fine point. We can go."

"Yes, I know," she says assuredly. "That is why I have already sent for our horses." She winks at me and spins around.

***

Today there are a lot more people than last time, many familiar faces. Some I am acquainted enough to only do the polite wave and smile from a distance. And others I feel comfortable enough to even approach. The reason for all the activity just buzzing with townsfolk is because of the market. Sellers set up their stalls along the fringes of the town, merchants advertise the goods they have caught, grown, or built by hand. Mostly carts of organic vegetables, imported from the farmlands, fresh fish brought in by the tide. And the most popular are the trinkets from other provinces, updates of the latest fashions.

A voice with rich cadent energy calls my name. "Adalia! Hera Adalia!"

In between the parade of people. Meshes of both middle and lower-class; blends of grey and brown clothing. Passing the round bustled dresses and rugged breeches, a beautiful little girl runs up to me.

"Macie!" I greet with equal enthusiasm.

I bend to receive, hauling her up into my arms, setting her on my hip. She throws her short arms around my neck and rests her head on my shoulder for a moment. She smells of candinian flowers that emanate a sweet earthy scent. Macie pulls herself upright, her deep olive skin pairs well with her curious green eyes. Her dark tresses falling to her waist in waves.

"You look so beautiful," she says in Torin. Her small hand pats my cheek, brushing a lock of hair off my shoulder.

"Not as beautiful as you," I say, poking her nose with my finger, rewarding me with her adorable giggle.

"Macie." Her mother, Meera, drags herself through the throng to reach us.

"Seliah!" Macie's torso slants deeply towards her and I pass her onto Seliah.

"My apologies, Adalia, you know... how... she can be," she utters between haggard breaths.

"No worries, I am happy to see you both."

Macie is a spitting image of her mother, who is just as lovely with her dark hair swept up in a chignon. Natural curls accentuate the shape of her face.

"No, it is us who are both happy to see you before you leave."

She extends her hand and I hold onto it. She cups her other hand over mine.

"Are you nervous?"

My lips part, words forming in my throat. But they meet death in my mouth.

"You needn't say anything." She shakes my hand. "Just know that I pray to the Most High that in the end. You will triumph."

Unable to thank her with words. I show my gratitude for her support with a smile and a hand squeeze.

"If you will excuse me, I must replenish my storehouse." She releases my hand. "Macie might be the only girl, but she eats just as much as her older brothers."

Seliah makes the mistake of unleashing Macie from her hold, because the moment her shoes hit the ground. She races out of sight, only the wisps of her balayage dress can be seen in glimpses.

"Macie!" Meera yells, scampering after her.

Seliah and I decide to divide and conquer. She goes off to Agnes's bakery whereas I take a trip to Reevas's boutique. The town's dressmaker. As I am about to enter, two maidens exit. I step aside to allow them to pass by. They barely pay me attention until the one recognises me.

"Hera Adalia." She practically jumps back and heaves her companion with her. Both of them flustered, with faces redder than the blood moon.

I smile back at them as I walk past, their faces turned to the ground, dipping into a polite curtsey. I saunter inside the corner shop. The fanfare of her designs are held up in an exhibition. The racks of hand-woven dresses ahead overshadow the amethyst walls. A plethora of extravagant designs and sequences.

"I will be out in a jiffy!" An operatic voice like the music of rills, just as penetrating as an opera singer; potent and unapologetically loud.

Shortly, Reeva stumbles into the frame, standing in the doorway of the joint room. Once she sees it's me, her hands freeze behind her head. It seems she was trying to tame her red flames. Her whale-bone white skin is striking against her bright magenta dress. Her arms fall and she places fists on her hips, ready to reprimand me.

"Well, look who decided to finally come out of hiding."

"It is not like that and you know it." I cross my bare arms.

"Then how is it like, little Hera? Trying to disassociate yourself with us, commoners, before you join your fellow elite? A way to purify yourself?"

One thing I tolerate about her is that unfiltered mouth.

"Enough of your foolish talk," I say imperiously and severely. I hate using my official voice, but she has given me no other choice. "I adore the people of the Prime. And for you to even gag and say any different. It offends me."

Reeva looks back at me like a kicked puppy. Her innate aggression extinguished. "I know...what I meant to say is—"

"I will miss you," I fill in with a laugh.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves." She dusts off her dress.

Reeva's late husband was a high-ranking official in king Arma's army. And the king takes care of his own, paying her a large enough sum to take care of her and her daughters for the rest of her life. She only works as a dressmaker because it is her passion.

"When last did you see Gerlud?"

I think back. "Oh, not for a very long time. How is he?" I ask, entwining my fingers before me.

"Fine lad, that one, one of the lucky few to serve the Vanguard. Unfortunately, fate was not kind to him. They sent word that he suffered an injury during a defensive ploy to discourage nomad hostility. He's stuck in an infirmary in Dempmor."

My hands break apart. "And his father? I know that Linel was looking to retire this quarter and now, again, he's the sole provider for his family."

Reeva bops her head and swipes a fiery strand from her face. "There was once a time where Domuses demanded his pieces, but now business has grown slow. Us common folk don't need luxury trade. And by need, I mean can't afford."

I inhale a deep breath and with it; I draw in a familiar aroma. Seliah walks in with an oval-shaped loaf clothed in a brown cloth, large enough to occupy both hands.

"Ah, if you are going to bring in Agnes's bread to smell up my shop." She points a bony finger at her. "You best believe you're going to share a bite."

Seliah laughs, then protectively cradles the bread to her chest like a newborn. "Well, you're going to have to fight me for it."

Reeva barks out a throaty but hearty guffaw. Once it fades, her finger shoots up to the ceiling. "My newest design, come and let me show you."

She turns and waves us over, disappearing into the doorway. Seliah and I follow.

"Thanks to your help, I was able to import the finest fabric in the region. And with it, I believe I have created my best design yet."

We walk into the rectangular-shaped room, compact and vaguely claustrophobic. Everywhere I look is clutter, clusters of torn or loose fabric, and half-made dresses. The only complete one that stands is outfitted on a mannequin situated beside her disarranged worktable.

My jaw slackens. The beauty of the dress rivals one belonging to a queen.

Reeva looks at her work with the utmost of pride. "I have been working on this for a long time and I could never pinpoint the origin of its inspiration."

She rotates her head and her pale blue eyes fasten on me. "The moment I learnt of the decree I knew then. The King Trials is going to birth the first High Queen. You are already the queen of the people. They might as well make it official."

My smile stretches so wide, I fear it might pass the border of my face. I am not flattered by her words, but touched by her poignant sentiment. Reeva and kind words are far and few in between. I lunge for her, enveloping her in a hug. Startled, she staggers back with her arms outstretched like she doesn't know what to do with them.

"Off of me, child." She attempts to return my embrace, but instead, her hand taps my back like a child trying to touch fire.

I release her with a smile.

"I know that you never wanted to possess any title. That much was made clear when you scolded everyone for calling you any term befitting your status." She shrugs. "We are lucky that the realm was blessed with a fair High king, one that fights off the vultures at court. But when he perishes....What then?"

I glance back at Seliah, and she gives me a pointed look. I remain silent.

To divert, I say, "How much for the dress? Five hundred gold pieces or a thousand shekels."

She flicks a hand to swat my offers away. "None. I am not giving this to you as a gift but more of an offering; a token of faith and belief that you will wear that in the Trials when you are a forerunner."

I shake my head. "I am the last person in need of charity." I twist my torso, looking down to lift the flap of the satchel open. I draw out a pouch crammed with shekels. Three more remain inside.

Because I know she will not accept it. I move forward to chuck it on her worktable and it lands with a jingling thud. "That dress is worth ten times more," I say in finality.

Reeva nods. "I will have it wrapped for you."

I take a step back and I glance at Seliah. "Wait here, will you? I have a quick errand to attend to."

I take off, hastily vacating the boutique. I plunge into the sea of people. I pass a few stone structures and several shops down. I enter the silversmith's store. The shop is dark, free for shadows to roam. There are rows of tables, all brimming with silver articles, objects entirely crafted from talents of silver. These include flatware: knife handles, hollowware, bowls, and teacups. As well as cookware: pots, serving trays, tankards and cups, and many other accessories, including jewellery. Although all are spotless and pristine, they have lost their lustre.

"Adalia."

Gerlud's father, Linel, emerges in the archway and shuffles closer, his hands groping the wall, allowing it to guide him to me. He bears the heft of many cycles on his slouched shoulders. His rippling skin mottled with brown blemishes. But there is a youth in his eyes; a young spirit still burning bright.

"Blest day, I am visited by my Hera," he says. He has the voice of an old man, orotund yet gravelly, eroded by time. "What brings you to my abode? Care to share a cup of tea with me again?"

"I'm afraid not, not this time. I must prepare for my departure."

"Ah." He raises his head that trembles ever so slightly. "The Vasilias Imperii. You are to leave for the Pantheon before the second equinox."

I nod thoughtlessly. "Yes, correct."

I clear my throat. "I heard of your son and—"

"Adalia, don't," he cuts off. And it stuns me into silence. "I will not be pitied, not by fellow folk nor by you. I am still an able man with life in my body to walk and work. It will be well with me."

I exhale heavily. Oh, the pride of men. If I cannot give it to him, I will just have to sell it.

I look around me, searching for the closest object. I step to the side and pick up a random silver teacup from a set. "The silver teapot with floral etchings. How much is it?"

His lips part to answer, but I interject.

"In fact..." I flow forwards, scanning every item arrayed on display. "I think my Regnum needs to update its silverware. I think I will buy... everything. All your merchandise."

"Hera, Adalia... but... you can't...." He dawdles off, strangled by shock.

"Oh, but I can. Or will you deny my right as a paying patron? You have the best silver articles in the province, and I wish to have only the best."

Linel's head gradually tilts towards the ground and he makes an unrecognisable sound. The sound of a man trying to suppress his cry. Which only tempts mine to join his. I walk a few steps to a table shoved in a corner. The only one with accounting books or ledgers filed on top. From my satchel, I empty it, taking out each sack. Linel's hollow gaze follows the jingly sound it makes as I transport them, depositing each onto his table.

"I will send for my guards to deliver a treasure of what you are owed. And they will collect all your lovely works."

I meander to him. A few inches taller than me. I place my hand on the side of his neck. With both hands, he takes it, holding my hand. He places a grateful kiss on the back.

"Thank you, Adalia. I am in your debt."

I take my hand back. "No need to thank me. I was doing it entirely out of selfish reasons. I want your son to travel back when he is recovered. And you, my old friend, you deserve to rest and rest well."

I swivel around, strolling to the exit.

"Adalia."

I pause, turning back around to face him.

"In my former days, a time of fleeting prosperity, my articles were desired by many. Especially by Domuses. I know of them and I know that they are inbred with the same kind of... determination. A zeal to serve their own. Their sons may be different, but a son will always crave the love and approval of his father, for he learns at his knee."

I nod attentively, heeding to his counsel.

"Domuses are the type of beings that want what they want, and they do not care for whatever or whoever is in their way to get it. The Vasilias Imperii may be a blessing or a curse. Time will reveal which is which. Be wary, young Hera. The Herems will not fight to win; they will fight to dominate."

I find my gaze locked on a random spot ahead; I blink several times. "Yes, I see. Thank you for your counsel."

"Farewell, Adalia."

I resume my journey, but once again. I stop.

I rotate back around. "When I entered, I never announced myself. How did you know it was me?"

Linel smiles softly and his unseeing eyes look in my general direction. "Because your light is so true, even through my eternal darkness. I can see it."

***

Once again, I find myself nestled in my corner on the ledge, overlooking the valley. In the serenade of the black, the stars are a ballad; they are lights that sing in infinite patterns. The sky is a black tranquillity married to a poetry of stars. Here is where I find my peace, at night, in the dark, when the world is still. When it is only my thoughts to keep me company.

Since the decree was issued. I noticed that I have been secluding myself a lot more.

And Wren and Eren have been keeping themselves from me. I know it is as difficult for them as it is for me. We have known them since I was old enough to travel to town on horseback, on my own with Seliah. But now our time is done. Off to the King Trials with me, where an expedition of uncertainty awaits. But I cannot seem to ward off this sickening feeling, one that clings to my chest and pains my heart. The Regnum, the Prime, Armathis. It is my home because this is where my people, where my family resides.

I have a feeling that once I leave. I will never see them again.