Chapter Eight
Proposal
When escorted back to the Hollow, Siarya had a guard on each side, holding her by the arms. They were marching fast, and it was difficult to keep up—they didn't bother to slow down. Niera was walking in front of her, not looking back, and not speaking to her. She was all stiff and timid, like she'd break someone in half if they went as far to touch her.
Eriana was immediately sent to the medic's ward to fix her arm, leaving Siarya alone. She wasn't sure where they were going, but she had an inkling; she could only hope she was wrong.
They at least removed her handcuffs when they entered Hollow ground, but only because they knew she'd be unable to escape. They bounded and forced her past the multiple parlors and the secondary entrance, bursting into the hallway leading to the outdoor balcony bridge made from the Hollow's thickest, strongest branches. The skyway bridge would lead to the Throne Nest, which possessed the entrance to the giant tower where the Council met with Royalty.
Siarya felt her blood run cold. They were taking her to her mother.
She felt like dying inside until a sudden familiar face entered her vision—Evermarie. She was standing on the bridge's edge, overlooking the vast land before her, in the midst of the beginning of a storm. The hanging lanterns swayed in the harsh winds, shrouded her with flickering amber light, her face calm and beautiful until she saw Siarya being escorted by the guards.
Her eyes darkened with fury and alarm towards the guards. "Just where do you think you're going with her?"
The guards halted, and Siarya let out a ragged breath. Niera was the one who spoke, and Evermarie's sharp eyes immediately cut into her. "The Princess is being taken to the Queen."
"My mother is preoccupied with the Council. I doubt she'll appreciate being interrupted," Evermarie said, and then she noticed Siarya's attire. "Oh Gods, Sia, what have you done?"
Siarya hastily rubbed the dried mud on her soiled gown to no avail. Sneaking out of the Hollow through a mysterious tunnel, running amok in the village in the dead of night, being threatened by tavern rogues, blatantly discovered by the Hollow Guard, seeing someone get horrifically murdered, and finished off with another encounter with not one, but two vicious Drovanians.
"Nothing of any importance." She said.
Her sister charged forward, and Siarya felt the urge to back up and hide, but the guards held her against her will. She reached and grabbed Siarya's chin, snapping her head up. "Don't lie to me, Siarya. I know you."
Siarya reeled her face away from her sister's grip. Evermarie's words angered her. She hated that her sister believed she knew anything about her—as if she hadn't been gone for the past year with her dumb husband. As if they were friends before that, as if they had been close. They'd never been like that, and Siarya knew for a fact that Evermarie didn't know a damn thing about her.
"Oh, don't tempt me, sister," Evermarie said. "I thought you had gotten over your ridiculous antics, being disrespectful and misbehaving left and right—"
"Misbehaving—?"
"Pardon me, your Highnesses," Niera interrupted. Evermarie and Siarya looked at her, both faces livid. "But we are here because Princess Siarya disobeyed the Crown and had to be rescued from the village, Princess Eriana in tow. There were two Drovanians present, and—"
Thunder crashed in the clouds above, far off in the distance as a sudden hesitation hung heavy in the air, and Evermarie's face transformed into something darker. "They were where?" She turned her head to Siarya. "You did what?!"
Siarya swallowed dryly, trying to avoid eye-contact but failing.
Fortunately, Niera spoke for her. "The Princesses snuck out of the Hollow. A spy from the village contacted us, but we were too late. When we arrived, Princess Eriana was injured and there were two Drovanians there. We escorted both the Princesses back to the Hollow with one casualty—a guard, done by Drovanian hand—and I find this matter fit for the Majesties."
So that's how they had found them so fast, Siarya realized as she fought to forget the face of the dying guard. There were spies in the village. Perhaps there had been someone in the Tavern, just waiting for any suspicious activity—and, in this case, it had been Siarya and Eriana's mysterious appearance. They had been set up.
"Snuck out of the Hollow? Drovanians?" Evermarie said quietly. Her face grew pale, and she glared at Siarya with a newfound hatred. "Eriana is hurt? How could you let this happen? How could you be so irresponsible?"
Evermarie pushed past Siarya, shaking her head. She turned and pointed to Niera. "I'm going to attend to my little sister—I need to know if she's okay. As for Siarya, the Queen may be in a meeting, but have her taken into the Council Nest anyway. She is to pay for dishonoring and endangering her family."
Siarya's eyes widened. "Marie, wait—"
"You do not," Evermarie snarled, shutting Siarya up. "Call me by that name so informally. You are no sister of mine."
At that, Evermarie huffed and walked off.
Siarya stood there in silence, ears still ringing from those words. She had never heard her sister say something like that.
She bit her tongue, forcing back the want to cry. Tears prickled at her eyes anyways. She was in real bad trouble now, even worse than last time. Except now, she was supposed to be a responsible adult. She was supposed to take care of Eriana, and she failed that. She put them both in harm's way. She should've told Eriana to stuff it—outside of the Hollow is simply too dangerous. Too risky.
How had she believed they wouldn't get caught? She shouldn't even be surprised! Of course there'd be spies in the village! Gods, she was so stupid.
Stupid, childish, naïve! Siarya closed her eyes, willing herself not to break down in front of the guards. Humiliation seeped through her skin. Moronic, brainless, stupid—stupid, stupid, stupid!
Why am I always so stupid?!
The guards jolted her forward again. They were walking her towards the entrance of the Council Nest. She wasn't entirely aware of their plan; what they were going to do when they took her inside, she didn't know. Surely she would be punished, but this time it would be worse than any other punishment she had ever gotten.
The air rumbled in thunderous booms, and the murky sky crackled with splitting lights. A storm was brewing as the rain reappeared in heavy volume. The guards cursed and pushed Siarya forward even faster, nudging her to the doors.
Inside was warm and inviting, but Siarya didn't buy it for a second. This was the place where dark decisions were made. She was hardly ever allowed in the Council Nest. Only the Queen and the King—if he were ever present—visited the Nest often. Siarya didn't like it. She wanted to bolt back into the rain and run until she could never be found
The guards unfurled their wings—because, of course, they were allowed to fly—and dragged Siarya up into the air. Their hands held her by her arms so tightly that they throbbed, and Siarya almost felt like complaining, but there was no use in acting childish.
They perched at the entrance of the Nest. At the landing, they finally released her. Siarya held her arms gingerly, trying to rub the pain and fear away. She could hear voices through the wood, which was alright, until she heard her mother's voice. Gods spare me.
"He's accepted," Her mother declared loudly from behind the doors. "It is now determined to happen."
"It will be a difficult turn of events…" Another man trailed off, the thunder outside forcing his voice into inaudibility.
"Safety is essential, of course… take horses in order to get to such a destination..."
"Wouldn't it be safer for them to live in Sephorian lands?" Asked an unrecognizable voice.
"…this still remains to be a terrible option…"
"He refused… coming to visit, the villages will be informed and there will… if they are disrespectful…"
Another clap of thunder sounded throughout the lands, shaking the sodden skies. For a moment, the Council was completely silenced. Niera took this moment to knock on the doors.
There was an agonizing time of waiting before a manservant opened the doors.
The Queen saw Siarya first. She was sitting at the end of the long table, beautiful and stoic as always, and surrounded by Council men when she peered up from her paperwork. Siarya watched as her mother's face turned cold and her body stilled. She knew something was wrong.
Siarya felt like crawling into a trench and dying.
Not everyone noticed their presence, however. They didn't seem to have realized anything in the Nest had changed—they were sucked into their argument.
"This could have been prevented if the Sisters could just work their magic." A man, most likely one of the advisors, suggested.
"We shall do no such thing," a woman's voice emanated from somewhere Siarya couldn't see. It sounded echoed, as if the woman was speaking through a tunnel. She could feel shivers crawl up her spine. "We are not slaves to your laws. If you wish for answers, speak to the Brotherhood."
An older man, probably in his mid-fifties, slammed something down on a wooden surface. His grey beard twitched and quivered as he spoke, "We are losing resources and our most valuable weaponry has been stolen. There is no other answer. If the kingdoms are tied, there cannot be war."
"It will not work!"
"Sitting here like animals waiting for the slaughter will do us no good, either, Ragnok. We must evaluate and examine the solutions we have, and so far, this has been the most prosperous. The Kingdom would be safer and we could have more time to—"
"Safer?" A man who Siarya assumed to be Ragnok said angrily. "If we went on with this plan, the damned crows will feel as though they belong here. They will stroll into our lands and bring upon chaos. You claim Sephoria will remain safer than it has been? With this so-called solution, we would be forced to bring the beasts into our homes!"
"That is enough," the Queen said. At the sound of her voice, all the men in the Nest grew uneasily quiet. They all looked at her. "We have company."
Lightning flashed, causing the Nest to catch alight. Siarya began to feel her palms sweat.
Everyone directed their eyes to Siarya.
"Your Highness," one of the advisors said, sounding surprised. "We apologize. We didn't realize you were present."
Siarya just looked at him.
"Siarya…You should be in bed, sleeping. Why have you been brought here to me?" The Queen asked. She glanced at the guards. "By the Hollow Guard?"
"Your majesty," Niera curtsied as she spoke. "Forgive us for interrupting your session, but an important matter has sprung up."
Niera then explained the night's events in quick haste. When she finished, the Queen peered down at her paperwork and began to shuffle them together. The nest was quiet other than the whispers of a few advisors and the sound of parchment. Rain drummed on the glass windows.
The Queen looked up and waved lazily at the Council men. "Please leave."
"Your majesty?" A man raised a brow in confusion. "Do you think it wise to discontinue this discussion—"
"Do not question my motives, Cedric," the Queen spat. The man, Cedric, nearly fell backwards from the heat of her words. "I have made my decision."
The men then looked disturbed. Ragnok was the one who spoke, "Certainly not without more thought, your majesty."
"Don't make me repeat myself," the Queen said. "I am not one to be trifled with."
"My apologies, your Majesty."
She pursed her lips into a thin frown. "I will speak to my daughter alone, now."
Siarya began to shiver. Not from the cold, but from fear. All of the Council men stood from their seats and made their way to the exit—but not before raking their eyes of Siarya in contempt. They brushed past her, and soon the Guards were leaving her, too. Niera included.
Despite Niera's betrayal, Siarya still wished for her to stay. Niera made Siarya feel braver than she actually was.
When the nest was empty, the Queen didn't talk to Siarya. Instead, she turned to face a large mirror on her right. "Narcissa, if you please..."
Siarya frowned. Who was she talking to?
But suddenly, the glass of the mirror rippled. Siarya watched in awe as a beautiful face appeared in the reflection—it was a woman with vibrant red hair and pale, porcelain skin. Her eyes were an unusual green that seemed to radiate light, and her lips were dark like coal. Everything about her emanated power.
"I don't like being called here only to be turned away, little Queen," the woman spoke. Her voice was hypnotic and strange, and Siarya recognized it as the voice that echoed before. "You should tread lightly with me."
"I called you here for help, and you declined the request. Your time here has been long over." Siarya's mother said calmly.
The woman, Narcissa, curled her lips up in a sneer. "I think I am the judge of that. My sisters will not be pleased to hear of this encounter."
"You and your sisters are never pleased with anything, Narcissa," the Queen waved her hand as if to brush the woman off. "Leave us, or I'll have the mirror destroyed."
"That almost sounds like a threat."
The Queen glared at the mirror. "It's not the first time I've threatened a Witch."
Narcissa sucked in a hissy breath before rolling her eyes away. "Again, my time has been wasted by such trivial subjects. The next time you need me for war, little Queen, the Sisterhood will not answer to you. Not even if your Kingdom is begging for mercy," her glowing emerald eyes traveled to Siarya, whose blood began to heat under her gaze. "May your useless Gods have mercy upon your soul, child."
Siarya swallowed dryly under the scrutiny of the witch. Her unnatural, burning eyes. They stared at her, and Siarya couldn't move. She was frozen in place, forced to drown into Narcissa's serpentine vision. What did her words mean? What was her mother doing, communicating with such creatures?
"Narcissa," the Queen warned. "Now."
Narcissa's eyes were still on Siarya when she spoke again, "If you think such a union you spoke of earlier will save this cursed wench you name your daughter, you are mistaken. You cannot hide her from the dark forever."
The Queen stood up abruptly from her seat, fury raging in her eyes. "Leave us."
"Your funeral, little Queen." Narcissa cackled.
At that, the glass in the mirror splintered and the Witch's face disappeared.
Silence thrummed in the nest, and Siarya fidgeted with her sleeves. She couldn't help but stare at the mirror in fear.
"Siarya." Her mother said. Siarya jumped at the sound of her voice, heart pounding in her ears.
"The—"Siarya choked on her on voice as she meekly pointed towards the broken mirror. "The mirror. It—it talked. The woman—she was—was—"
"A Witch," her mother finished for her. "I know."
"B-but," Siarya stammered. "You hate Witches!"
The Queen looked at Siarya then. Siarya realized with a shock that her mother looked exhausted. From far away, her beauty was apparent, but seeing her closer, Siarya could make out dark circles under her gray eyes and the dark, weary expression on her face. She looked like a woman who'd gone through more than she could handle.
Her mother sighed, then. "I do, but under the circumstances, I thought it would be best to contact them. The result, however, was not as I had hoped…" she frowned. "The Sisterhood is not charitable, and they have the power to decide whether to contribute in things such as war. They used to be more intrigued by the idea, but now they find the whole thing…" she rolled her eyes. "…Trivial."
Siarya studied her. "You were asking them for assistance in the war."
"Yes."
"And they refused?"
"Yes," her mother said again. "They did."
"But… why?" Siarya asked.
"It's not of importance," she replied. "The reasons the Sisterhood do things aren't what I wish to speak to you about. The matter I have for you is more… important."
There it was, Siarya thought. She was going to be lectured about leaving the Hollow. She was going to be punished for shirking off from her responsibilities and putting Eriana in danger. She was going to be bound down to the Hollow, trapped inside these walls for the rest of her life.
Just make it quick, Siarya begged. Just throw it at me. Get it over with.
"As you know, your father has left again," her mother began. Her eyes grew slightly more distant at the mention of the King. "I don't know when he will return. Due to this… inconvenience, I have again been given the task of running the Kingdom in such a time of turmoil."
Siarya listened silently. This wasn't the conversation she was expecting.
"I have gone over every solution, every possible path that could guide Sephoria back to safety. I have tugged on every connection I have, every relative, every Duke, every creature I could reach—and yet, nothing has come of it," she let out a breath before putting her head in her hands. Siarya had never seen her mother look so tired. "Sephoria is at its end, and Drovania is still thriving beneath us. Soon, our walls of defense will crumble, and it will be for the last time."
Panic shot through Siarya, and she stepped forward. "You cannot be serious, mother."
"I am not… jesting," she answered sourly. "You must understand that I have gone over every possible solution that could be thought of before I entrust you with this information, Siarya. You must trust that I have tried my best—for you, and for this Kingdom."
"I don't understand." Siarya almost wished the conversation had gone in the other direction, about leaving the Hollow. Any punishment would be better than this, where terror was beginning to creep up from her mother's words. This was more than a simple mistake in the Village, and her mother was not one to ignore the idea of leaving the Hollow for anything else. Siarya was beginning to wonder if that issue was going to be brought up at all.
"King Pantomon was killed in battle during the last siege," her mother said. "That was a success for us."
Siarya nodded, her movements soft and fragile.
"Despite our enemy's death, however, the King has two sons. The eldest, Prince Domonic, was crowned the new King not so long ago," she lowered her gaze solemnly. "Meanwhile, the existence of Sephoria had become unstable."
Siarya looked up at her. "Is there to be another battle?"
Her mother grew very still. "No, darling, not this time."
"Then what are we to do? Salvage what we can and escape?" The idea brought a bitter taste to Siarya's mouth.
"No, that would be pointless," her mother said. "It would also solve nothing."
"Then what are we to do, exactly?" Siarya asked, crossing her arms.
Her mother looked at her then, eyes soft. She sat down into her chair and sighed, taking a few moments before speaking again, "King Domonic, his… betrothed… was killed recently, therefore he has not yet acquired a Queen to rule at his side," she announced as Siarya's eyes grew wide. "Such an opportunity would save Sephoria from war."
Siarya froze inside, speechless. She could feel her fury bubbling within her, but she dared not move. It's a dream, she declared within her mind. A terrible nightmare.
Thunder exploded from outside the branched wooden walls, and Siarya shook her head in disbelief. "No… You wouldn't…He wouldn't!"
"He would, actually. King Domonic has approved of the idea of this marriage. Most excitedly, actually, despite the issues between our people," her mother explained. "You can redeem yourself for your mistakes, Siarya. You can become known by your enlightened decision to marry for the sake of her kingdom. Especially after the incident tonight."
Siarya continued to shake her head, tears forming in her eyes. "No… No, I won't do it."
"You don't understand the consequences here, child. This is one proposal that you cannot refuse."
"H-He will kill me!" She shouted mournfully. "How could you let this happen? How could you?"
"I understand you're upset."
"Upset? You told me from the moment I left the Hollow the first time that Drovanians were to be feared. You told me that they were dark, and evil, and that they were nothing more than predators upon our very salvation. How could you bring up the idea of marrying their King? How could you ask that of me?"
"Because Sephoria is dying under the battles that burn unto our lands," her mother replied. "Doing this, it will be heroic to Sephoria's very soil. You once dreamed for more than this life, Siarya, and I am giving it to you. I'm giving you the opportunity to save our Kingdom from destruction."
"You broke your promise of safety…" Siarya whispered. "You told me that I'd never be caught in the clutches of an undeserving man. You lied to me."
"This alliance will prevent the Drovanians from overthrowing Sephoria completely!" Her mother said. "It will assure the safety of our people and perhaps put a stop to this war—"
"If you think some ridiculous marriage will make those—those savages cease from murdering our people, then you're off your rocker," Siarya exclaimed hysterically. "What's going to keep this King from overthrowing Sephoria after I marry him, huh? Is he going to abide by the rules? Do you think he's actually going to play fair? The Drovanians hate us!"
"The Drovanians need our resources to survive in their darkness; resources that only we have. If our Kingdoms are united, we can provide them with food and shelter. Perhaps it will invoke some peace."
Siarya scoffed. "What Lord in Sephoria is going to be willing to share their land with a crow? There won't be peace in Sephoria, mother, because the moment Drovanians walk into our lands, it will be nothing but bloodshed."
"Like tonight?"
Siarya froze, tongue-tied. "The last time I left the Hollow, you—"
"I know what I did," her mother interrupted. "And I do not regret it. However, things have changed. This time is different."
"Different?" Siarya gaped at her, her fury beginning to return. "Since when have things changed, mother?
"Since a union between our Kingdoms has become Sephoria's savior," her mother snapped. "Gods, just to think, Sephoria was always the Kingdom that everyone thought would win in this terrible, revolting war. We have the light of the skies, the abundance of nature and resources, the materials, the pride! And yet, the Drovanians have undermined us in every attack they've made. They've made us into glorious fools!"
"How?" Siarya asked angrily. "Who let this happen, huh? What advantage could they possibly have that is powerful enough to bring us to our knees? We've always been better than them. We still are. We can still win—"
"That's what I thought, too."
"Then why be afraid of them?" Siarya asked.
"Because they are terrifying people, Siarya," her mother replied tiredly. "I know that we have underestimated them enough times before, but there is one thing that I cannot deny about the people who live in that Kingdom—they are clever. Frighteningly so. They are smarter than most of the scholars in the capital alone, and I'm not referring to simple bookish intelligence. It's the way they think—their strategies, their plans, their resourcefulness—it's like the darkness they've lived in for years has nurtured them into these creatures that… that just aren't the same as normal men."
Of course, Siarya thought. Drovanian's skin were tainted with gray, and marred with scars and gross, blackened markings. She remembered the first Drovanian she met—Gods forbid she ever comes across him again—and he had as many scars as a warrior having served decades in the army, at only the age of fifteen. For Siarya, at fifteen, the only scar she had (and still only has) is a small mark on her knee, from the time she had landed incorrectly while branching. It became hard to think of what lay beyond the boundaries of Sephoria, of what creatures strive in the Drovanian darkness that could cause so much misery and violence against the Drovanians. What beasts do they encounter, to have so many wounds at a young age? What kind of torture do they live with, to have their minds twisted for the need to survive?
"Then let's find people who can outsmart them," Siarya suggested. "People who know battle like the backs of their hands. People who—"
"I have," her mother interrupted. "And each time, they've come back dead."
Siarya shut her mouth.
"Either they are killed by Drovanians, or they are torn apart by the monsters that live in their darkness. I've had fine soldiers die by the hands of simple Drovanian peasants, because they are that good. They are that strong."
Siarya folded her arms against her chest and looked down at the floor. "How did they become so strong?"
Her mother shook her head. "Perhaps the Gods favor them more than we thought."
Siarya sucked in a shaky breath, her mind still buzzing from the recent information. Thinking of the impending marriage, her eyes began to flood with tears again. Feeling weak in the legs, she shrunk down to sit in a chair. She raked her fingers through her hair, murmuring, "I don't know anything about Drovanian politics. I don't even know how to be a Queen."
"That'll have to change."
There had to be a way out of this. This couldn't be the only option. If there was only a way to change her mother's mind—
"And what of father?" Siarya asked then, peering up at her mother. "Does he know about this? Has he agreed to sell me off?"
"He's not—we're not selling you off, Siarya," her mother exclaimed. "And I sent a message out. Whether he's received it or not, I haven't a clue."
Something bitter and hot twisted inside of Siarya, and she clenched her fingers into fists. Of course he wasn't around. Of course he wasn't a part of this. Why should he be? Because he was her father? She was never enough for him. If he ever missed her, he would have held her in his arms every once and a while. He would've said that he loved her. But no.
Siarya bit her lip to keep it from trembling. "I never asked much of him, but he could at least be here, you know? I never asked him to be around, I never asked him to act like my father, I never complained—but could he be here for me at least one time?"
Her mother's gaze softened as she watched Siarya, her face of tight constraint and stress ebbing away. "You don't have to pretend to love him, Siarya. I know he's never been there for you. For any of us, really."
"Haven't been there?" Siarya spat. "I don't even remember the last time he talked to me. He's my father, and I don't even know him."
"He loves you—"
"And now I'm getting married! Yet still, where is he? Gone!" Siarya cried out angrily. It was true that she was furious at the King, at her father, whatever he was to her—but there was also a glimmer of hope that he would change her mother's mind about marriage. Perhaps, if he knew about the possible alliance, he could put a stop to it.
Maybe he'd actually be infuriated to hear that his little girl was to be married off to a horrible monster of a man. Maybe that fury would snap him out of his stupor and make him realize how much he loved his child. Maybe he'd march through the big doors, bursting dramatically through like a hero in a book, and put a stop to it all. He'd say with fierce pride, "My daughter shall not be married to a man who is underserving! She is the daughter of a King!"
A daughter of a King indeed, Siarya thought. If he were here, he'd love her enough to keep her from Drovania.
No. If he loved her enough, he'd be here. Just that.
"Whether your father is here or not, I decided that we should make the preparations within the week." Her mother announced. Siarya's head snapped up.
"But… that's—"
"Soon, I know," her mother interrupted. "But it's better that way. It'll keep the riots from happening. I don't doubt that the nobles of Sephoria will object to this marriage, and their input would be unwelcome at this point. If you are sent to Drovania by the end of this week, it will ensure a more peaceful beginning of an alliance."
Siarya felt her heart drop to the floor. "Please, mother. Don't make me do this. Don't make me marry him. Don't make me go over there, I don't want to!"
Her mother saw the tears gleaming on Siarya's cheeks and grew timid. "Quit sniveling, Siarya. You are not a child. This is no time for pointless tears and adolescent behavior. You will sit up, clean your face, cease your objections and face your responsibility. Am I understood?"
Siarya didn't want to. She didn't want to follow orders this time, to be forced under demands. She hated the feeling of it. She hated everything about this.
"It's late. You will go to your nestchamber and rest. If I hear another hint of complaint, you will be put under surveillance and forced to spend the rest of your days in Sephoria in your nestchamber."
"You can't!" Siarya cried out. "How could you?"
"Relax, Siarya. It's only precaution. If you behave yourself, you won't be confined to your nestchamber. It is purely simple," her mother explained. She tilted her head to study Siarya. "However, if you do as you're told, I will grant you a privilege."
"Privilege?"
Her mother leaned forward. "For the next few days until your departure to Drovania, I grant you the permission to speak to Petrova. I find that her position may equip you with skills that may assist you when you leave. Drovania is filled with warriors, much unlike our less barbaric community, and Petrova may be a good influence on you."
Siarya stared at her in disbelief. "You… You let me see her now?"
"Of course," she replied warmly. "Anything for your comfort, my love."
Strange, Siarya thought irritably. I'm not feeling the comfort.
"Now go," her mother waved her hand in dismissal. She peered down to the paperwork on the roundtable, as if the discussion was now too meaningless to continue. "I am busy."
Siarya's mouth went dry as her hands clenched into fists. Feeling disoriented, she realized that she was trembling. With anger or fear, she couldn't tell. Her eyes were burning. "You're busy?"
"The discussion is over." Her mother answered without looking up. It was final.
Trying her hardest not to cry, Siarya covered her mouth to choke back a sob, and turned towards the door. It was done.
~.~
Niera was standing outside the door, alone, when Siarya finally stumbled out of the Council Nest, looking like she was about to hurl.
Siarya stopped at the sight of her friend, and immediately began to wipe her tears away. She knew it would do no good. Her face was on fire, her head was pounding, and it was still pouring out rain, hints of wind bringing along cold droplets of water from the air.
Siarya found herself speechless.
Niera must have thought her silence was out of anger, because she then said, "If you think I'm going to apologize for turning you in, you're wrong. You know I did the right thing."
Feeling like vomiting, Siarya pressed her fingers to her mouth and bowed her head to hide the fresh tears that wouldn't seem to stop.
She didn't think she could talk. So instead, she walked past Niera with her face pointed towards the ground. Like she was shameful. Niera, however, grabbed her by the elbow before she could make it past, "Are you seriously going to give me the silent treatment? I'm part of the Hollow Guard. It's my job to protect you. You could've gotten yourself killed, and you're lucky I was there to save you."
Lucky, Siarya thought. I'm always so lucky.
"And it's not my fault that you are being punished," Niera continued. "And what? A month's worth of assisting your governess instead of playing around in the village? That sounds better than being dead in the street by—by some Drovanian thug."
"I'm not to be punished." Siarya said at last. Nausea was burning in her stomach like acid.
Silence then hung in the air as Niera took in the words. Her expression turned from surprise to puzzlement.
"Not to be..?" She frowned in confusion. She tilted her head to give Siarya a second look. "But why? And why are you crying?"
"I—"Siarya tried to speak, but her throat was swelling to the point where it began to throb, where she couldn't find it in herself to use her words. I'm going to throw up. "I—I can't right now."
She tried to leave again, because all she wanted to do was be alone. She wanted to curl up in her nestchamber and ignore the feeling of her world burning to bits. Ignore the fact that she was going to be sent away to somewhere dark and cold. Ignore that she'd never see her friends and family.
She'd have to leave Eriana, Siarya realized. And she had promised that she'd assist Eriana in hiding her 'd promised. What if something happened while she was gone?
But Niera wouldn't budge. "What aren't you telling me?" Her brows furrowed and she reached up to brush Siarya's hair from her face. Siarya shivered slightly at the kind touch. Niera's gray eyes grew concerned, "Sia, you're scared."
"I don't want to talk about it right now." Siarya replied, and she pushed Niera away with a sharp shove.
Niera locked her jaw and tensed. Siarya could feel her gaze burning into her, all steel and fire. But Siarya was tired. Too tired to be intimidated.
"Something's wrong, isn't it?" Niera asked then, her eyes searching Siarya's face for answers. "Something that isn't about tonight."
Siarya began to feel very sick. Too sick. "Niera, please—"
"Tell me what's wrong."
"I think I'm—"Siarya's eyes widened, and she lurched towards the edge of the bridge, and vomited.
"Oh child," Niera rushed to Siarya's side, automatically pulling her hair away from her face. Her other hand began to rub Siarya's back in gentle strokes. "You're not well."
Siarya spat out the last of the bile, trying to wash out the tangy, bitter taste in her mouth. Her hands were gripping the railings of the bridge so tight that her knuckles were turning a milky white. She'd never vomited before.
"Siarya," Niera said. Her voice was pleading. "Honey, what happened?"
Siarya spit again, disgusted. She wondering how to tell her everything she talked about with her mother. How to explain that she wasn't—that she wasn't okay, right now.
"I've been assigned to save the Kingdom," Siarya said finally. She let herself smile just slightly, just for the sake of humor. "I'll be getting a new title and everything. It's… a great opportunity."
Her mother had made it sound so heroic. Siarya wasn't feeling it.
Niera let out a breath, her face changing between a smile and a bewildered frown. "Assigned to save the Kingdom? What? That doesn't make sense, you're…"
"I'm getting married," Siarya said bluntly. Her voice sounded too light now, too optimistic. She wiped at her mouth and turned away from the railing, lifting her bare hand, which was slightly trembling. "I always thought I'd be proposed to with a ring, but I suppose this'll have to do."
Niera's eyes grew very wide. "Married?" She paused. "To whom?!"
The weak smile on Siarya's face faded away then.
"Sia?"
Siarya bit her lip and looked away, her eyes becoming lost in the rain pouring down around them. "I've been engaged to the King of Drovania."
She wasn't looking at Niera when she said those words. She didn't want to see her best friend's reaction. She didn't want to hear the protests, because she knew she had no choice no matter how she felt about the situation.
"The King," Niera said slowly. "Of Drovania."
"It turns out that my marriage to him might actually save Sephoria from losing the war," Siarya replied with a half-hearted shrug. "Convenient, right?"
"You're going to live in Drovania."
"I imagine so."
"Are you being serious?"
Siarya didn't answer.
"Siarya, you listen to me," Niera pulled at Siarya's shoulder, turning her around sharply. Her eyes were cold and hard. "I've been there, and it's not like you think. It's dark, and dangerous. If you can't adapt to it, then you can't survive. It'll eat you up alive."
"Then let's hope I'm adaptable." Siarya replied feebly, feeling numb.
"How could your family send you there?" For the first time in the time Siarya has known her, Niera looked frightened. "How could they do this to you?"
"It's not like I have a choice, Niera," Siarya protested angrily. "They're making me do it."
"Who is?"
"My mother." Siarya declared.
Niera scoffed and shook her head. "This isn't right. This is—Gods, Sia, you don't even know how to hunt!"
What will that have to do with anything?"
"There are no plants in Drovania, Sia. They're all dead. No light, remember?"
Siarya looked at her in puzzlement. "How could I possibly hunt if there are no plants for animals to feed on?"
"Because they're carnivores. All of them. That's how they survive—it's a big, scary, intense competition for food," Niera explained. Siarya then began to feel sicker. "Drovanians are malformations—they're just like what they feed on. If there are no plants, they eat the existing meat there is, whether it's alive or not. If there is no more meat left, they eat their own kind if they have to. It's just the way their life works."
"How is that even possible?" Siarya asked, horrified. She imagined Drovanians crawling all over each other like rabid animals, in a cursed world of mute darkness, tearing at their friends' flesh for food. "How could they eat their own kind?"
"Don't ask me how herbivores turned into raging carnivores when the darkness swept over their lands, because that's extending into knowledge that not even I know of," Niera replied. "All I know is that Drovanians are evil. I've told you this before, but if you leave Sephoria to live with them, they will rip you apart. Your mother has to know this. Somebody has to keep this monstrous engagement from happening. Somebody has to do something to save you—"
"I can't be saved!" Siarya spat back. Niera grew very quiet. "Don't you get it? I'm all that Sephoria has left."
Niera snorted at that and turned away. She peered up towards the sky, rolling in stormy turmoil, her breath fogging up the air and immediately washing away in the hurtling rain. One hand was placed on her hip, near the hilt of her sword, and the other was raking through her hair. It was silent for a long moment. "I bet your mother really gave you the speech, huh?"
Siarya looked at her in confusion. "The speech?"
"I bet she used a bunch of great details, too," Niera continued. "She probably told you that marrying a killer would save the world. That you were the chosen one. Fuck, throwing you into the mix of war might even bring back all light to Drovania. Did she tell you that? Did she tell you that you were the savior?"
She wasn't sure if Niera was being sarcastic or not. Yes, her mother had spoken a lot about her being the "one who could rescue Sephoria" from all the bad stuff, but so what? What if it were true? The thought made her heart quicken.
Then Niera said, "Just because someone tells you you're something special, doesn't mean you are."
Siarya flinched, the blow of her words almost knocking her backwards. That comment had stung. Before she turned away, Niera quickly spoke again.
"Sia, wait—I didn't mean it like that."
"Then what do you think it meant?"
"I just…" Niera raked her hand through her hair again, her fingers becoming tangled in the wet mass of silver. She let out a long sigh. "I know how your mother treats you."
"What do you know about my mother?"
"I know that she's kept you unnaturally sheltered for your entire life," Niera said. She began to inch closer to Siarya. "I know that she's different around you, compared to the rest of your family. I know that she has fears that revolve around you somehow, and I know that there's a reason. One that she doesn't want people to know."
"What are you going on about?"
"And I know it's not like your mother to send you away to somewhere so dangerous. Not after all that she's done to keep you away from the outside world, to the point where she practically clipped your wings and glued your mouth shut—"
No, Siarya thought. Niera didn't understand. The Queen has done everything in her power to keep the Kingdom alive without the actual King present. "She has no choice—"
"Bullshit!" Niera cried. Her face grew dark and angry. "Why sacrifice you, after everything she's done to keep you safe?"
"You're acting like keeping me safe is unnatural for my mother." Siarya said.
"It's not, for a mother," Niera replied. "But for Queen Genevieve? She's not as kind and good as you think she is, Sia."
"She's done her best with the Kingdom—"
"Maybe she has," Niera waved her hand in frustration, almost like she was brushing the fact away. "Maybe she hasn't. Does it matter? You're still getting sent away."
"You're angry," Siarya said softly. "And you're not thinking straight."
"I don't think anybody's thinking straight today."
That was one thing Siarya could agree with.
"So if you're getting married—and you won't be, after I'm done—when are you scheduled to leave?" Niera asked.
That was a question Siarya knew she didn't want answered. "Uh…by the end of the week."
"What?!"
Siarya flinched at the shout. "My mother believes it will keep panic from happening. I don't imagine that Sephoria will be very happy that their Princess will be marrying the King of their enemies."
"Obviously," Niera spat harshly. She blew out another sigh from her mouth, beginning to pace with her hands on her hips. It was a few moments before she spoke again. "Well, evidently something must be done. You're not going to Drovania, that's all I can say. I'll try to figure out a plan. We can look for your father, we can get help. We can even talk to the nobles if we have to."
"Niera!" Siarya exclaimed. "That's breaking direct orders from the Queen. That'd be close to treason."
"Protecting you isn't treason."
"It is if I say it is," Siarya snapped. "And you're not going to do anything. It's not your place."
"Oh, don't be so stubborn!" Niera cried out irritably. "You've always been impossible about your safety. Tell me, what does your sister think?"
"Eri?"
"No, your elder sister," Niera said. "Evermarie. Is she as concerned for you as I am?"
"Why do you ask?"
"The more influential members of Royalty I can catch, the better. You are not going to Drovania, Siarya. That is to be clear."
"A-And you're thinking Evermarie will help?" Siarya laughed, although she didn't feel amused. She didn't even know why Niera bothered to bring her up. "I don't know. She'd be concerned, of course. But she won't be entirely against it. You know her, Niera. She believes that everything the Queen decides is a message sent from the Heavens."
"And Eriana?"
Siarya paused, causing a painful silence. "She doesn't know yet, either."
Siarya noticed Niera's knuckles growing light as she gripped her metal sword. "You don't deserve it. No one does. Drovanians are all sick-minded, dysfunctional and manipulative people. There's a reason why they're hated."
"I'm marrying one, Niera," Siarya added warily. "I'd rather not—you know—listen to the details."
She looked at Siarya sympathetically. "What do you want to hear?"
"I need you to have faith in me."
Niera laughed quietly, her eyes wet. She pulled Siarya into a hug, embracing her as an adult would comfort a child. "You're an insufferable imp, you know that? I will always faith in you."
Siarya smiled against the armor, cold against her cheek.
Niera, sighing, held her tight. "Farewell seems forever, but we shall find each other again. I promise."
There was nothing more to say between them then, because they both knew that farewell was a tricky subject. Siarya just buried her face into her only friend, her mentor, her role-model—cherishing the moment of peace, because she knew it could be her last.
