Chains of Fate (The Fate Circle Saga Book 1) Page 10

  Jalcina remembered clearly the long moments full of those red eyes. Eyes staring through her humanity, into her soul, and saw something there. Yes, she remembered. Then her Father dragged her away, declaring she was not to be seen anymore. Was this why? Had he forbidden her to be seen because the tyrant had seen her? Curse her for her foolishness. One hand dashed water out of the bath and onto the floor.

  “He was trying to protect me from this.”

  The king had risen from his throne to come after her, but they had stolen from the room before he could truly mark who she was, had they not? No, they had not. The young man who had been there when she woke, he had spoken of remembering her. The way he spoke of the tyrant, it was obvious they were close, men at arms perhaps. Surely she could find out soon. She would be forced to find out soon.

  The bath did not last nearly long enough for her peace of mind. Yet with each stroke of the cloth, Jalcina made a decision. Her Father had always taught her to be aware of her circumstances, always to be aware the rules could change at any moment. The rules had changed and no matter how much the thought made her flesh crawl, she was going to have to work with what she had. Carefully, she scrubbed away her pride, letting it drain away with the water as the nameless one pulled the plug. Once out of the water, she was dried and a white chemise was pulled over her head. Over the chemise was thrown a black velvet dress then laced tight against her torso. The stitching was a silver dragon wrapping double around her body, glittering with tiny gems as its scales.

  Standing before the glass, she could not help but stare in surprise at the beauty of it. All this he offered her though he had only seen her once. Then again, it was not out of line with his thinking since he was marrying her on a single sight. Hair swept back from her face, she appeared so much like the portrait of her mother hanging in her Father’s bedroom she was stunned. How long had she carried this face, the mirror image of a woman gone? Why had not she noticed it before, reflected in her Father’s eyes? Maybe she was only seeing it now because she was leaving her former life behind.

  “Well, at least he will not find any fault with your looks.” The servant wrapped the leftover lacing from the bodice, which was not too tight, around her waist and tied them off. “I shall accompany you to the table, Mistress.”

  A long winding cloth was placed over her face, making it necessary she be led from the room, darkening her vision to the point where it seemed she was staring into the heart of night though her eyes were wide open. Still she was lead with a light, sure, hand through the halls of the castle, not a tremble in her step though her stomach had erupted with butterflies.

  The main hall had been decorated the night before for a ball, now it was quite different. There were long benches arranged within, and tables set with course after course of the meal already begun. Jalcina could see nothing, but she heard the clatter of silverware as forks were hastily put down at her entrance. Her leader stopped and then gently pulled her hand away. A few moments later, another hand, far different, slipped into hers and led her to a seat. The chair was pulled out for her and she was helped to sit.

  Quiet, her hands in her lap, she waited for her veil to be removed. Minutes passed and no such move was made, so she reached up to remove it herself. The person sitting next to her reached out and patted her hands back down into her lap without a word. Though the touch had not been rough, she did not make another attempt to raise her veil. For some reason, she was being kept hidden. If that was what they wanted, then that was what she wanted, for the time being. Muffled voices spoke around her, a few complimented the stitching on her veil and a male voice thanked them in her stead. Unsure if she should speak, Jalcina said nothing, refused to move, part of her terrified this was some kind of test she had to pass in order to keep her life through the end of the night.

  Again a hand made contact with hers, gripping her fingers with unexpected care.

  “We will go.” Then he tugged her to stand. It seemed as if she had been trapped in this darkness for days, yet she followed as best she could the body walking before her, leading her down corridors becoming steadily colder as they progressed. Then the stairs, she was swung up into his arms, though still not allowed to see. There was a dampness to the air that had not been there before. She was set back on her feet at the bottom. “Close your eyes and I will remove the veil, but you still may not open them until we reach where we are going.” Part of her strained to place the voice. Was it the same voice that had asked her to point to the one who had hired her so many hours before? It eluded her, yet it had to be. Shaking her head yes, she closed her eyes and breathed a slow sigh of relief as the cloth was removed from her eyes. Once again, she was being lead through the darkness, but this was by choice, she kept her eyes shut, denying the need to see as they hurried along.

  “Open your eyes.” Unsure how much time had passed, she was actually reluctant to open her eyes. The sensation of light falling across her face made her wonder if they were indeed still underground as she had thought they were. “Open your eyes.” she was asked again when it took her too long at first. A hand caressed the side of her face, gripping only lightly at the line of her jaw.

  Jalcina opened her eyes to a sight she was wholly unprepared for. The ceiling above her vaulted up as if it wished to become part of the heavens, a hole revealed the night sky and the heavy moon above was the light tripping across her face. The walls were smooth, black stone glittering in the moon’s light as if it wished to be the same silver as the light.

  “Where?”

  “It does not matter.”

  Her eyes were drawn down at those words, drawn from the ceiling to the face so near her own. Deep red eyes watched her with an expression of concern.

  “It is where we are now. I had to bring you here.”

  Standing much closer to him now than she had been in the council chamber or the ballroom, she saw he did have pleasing features, marred only slightly by scars from war. Drawing away from her, he seemed to merge into the shadows of the room, leaving her with only the glow of his eyes staring at her in the dark. The effect was so total her heart jumped in fear before settling as she realized his breathing still floated to her ears.

  “Why?” She circled as he moved trying to keep her eyes on his presence even though she could not see him. “Tell me, please.”

  “You’re being judged by the light.” So calm, still almost tender. “Do you know about that?” The Light would tell him if she was the one he sought. “Shush.” He hissed across the space at her. “Just wait.”

  The moon moved, filling the hole completely, and a pool Jalcina had not noticed reflected its light upward. As the glow became a column, the glitter from the walls seemed to fall and drift in a breeze she did not feel. Silver sparkles spun lazy spirals in the air floating to the ground. Landing in her hair and leaving bright trails down her dress. Raising her eyes to them, Jalcina felt no fear, only wonder and a sense of peace infusing her limbs. Even the barest feeling of pain in her body was gone now, drawn away by the light.

  Vad’Alvarn watched with narrowed eyes. Each time he had done this, he had been disappointed. Each of those had come before, they had not been the one; they had been rejected by the light. Even Navar had balked when he announced he intended to wed the girl from Sartol that very night, but the proper moon was meant to rise and he could not wait the next three months to find out if what he thought was true was. The answer might have been right there before him, yet fortune favored the bold. Fortune had already delivered her into his hands and the chance would not be squandered. Though he had been told what would happen, it was still amazing to see it begin. According to legend, if the two who were meant to be came together in the darkness under the moon, the light and the darkness would join together in chains, connecting the two. Already it began. He was one with the darkness and the light was falling around her in the shapes of slim chains, each link smaller than her nails. Such beauty, it was a foreign thing, the way those chains weaved through her hai
r, slid around her body with musical chimes. The glow was making it hard to continue to watch her, so he lowered his eyes.

  The darkness was drawing chains around him as well. Finer than the links of his mail armor, chains of absolute blackness twined up his body and through his hair, no more weight than spider web against his skin. Awe and fear mixed in his blood with every beat of his heart, pressing against his nerves and almost prompting him to flee the chamber, but he gazed out again and she was watching him. She extended her hand to him, suffused with the moon’s glow, yet now he could see every detail as if through new eyes.

  Fortune favors the bold. He reached out to her hand, wrapped his hand around hers, and did not resist as she stepped away tugging him toward her. The shadows clung to him as he moved away from the darkness, which had cradled him only moments before. Stepping backward, she took no notice of the fact she stood on water now, slippers firm on the water as if on stone. Without hesitation, he joined her and together they stood on the glowing water, the chains surrounding them both braiding together until they were as one, a long single chain of links of flashing silver and glittering black.

  “It is meant to be.” He found the words lying on the tip of his tongue were willing to emerge as she leaned against him. She dipped her head.

  They stayed there together, coming off the water before the light faded, yet they did not leave the vault. Nothing was truthfully spoken of; just the curious warmness of being near was shared between them. He stroked her hair; she counted his breaths, but neither of them said a word, lost in their own thoughts for the time being. The euphoria surrounding them seemed to remain until the moon had moved away from the hole leaving them both in darkness.

  “Who are you?” Finally, Jalcina spoke and asked the question burning in her mind since being told she would be married so soon.

  “Vad’Alvarn, son of the Burning Island and conqueror of seven kingdoms.” It would soon be more if he had anything to say about it. “Your husband.” The last part was not truly tacked on as much as said reverently. Leaning down he kissed her hair. “I’ve been waiting for you for such a long time.” For someone who called himself a conqueror, his voice said nothing of the chill she felt from him as he sat in the council chamber surrounded by men. Perhaps he only knew softness in dealing with women?

  “This cannot be right.” She lifted her voice in denial of the feeling coursing through her. The chains of their fate were inexorably linked to one another. “How can you have waited for me?” The need for distance was overpowering and he did not try to hold her as she stepped away, wrapping her arms around herself as if suddenly realizing it was cold in the chamber around them. “What was that…that light?”

  “Do not let fear make you doubt.” He opened his arms to her again, though he did not advance, offering her the chance to return to the feeling of safety she had. “You are the one I’ve waited for. There is nothing to fear and nothing to doubt, the light knows you.” The information was offered as if it made sense alone. “Just as the dark knows me.”

  “What are you talking about?” The chamber formerly fascinating to her now seemed so small, suffocating even as her eyes took in its features again. Fear made her eyes sharper, but still she could not quite find what made her so apprehensive. Not until she rested her eyes on him again, he was the reason she was so afraid. He was the reason she was trying to escape. “Light cannot know anyone.” So much certainty, then she recognized the light behind him, the glow from a torch at the staircase, an escape. Unthinking, she sidled toward the side, trying to get herself a clear shot to run away from him, past him toward the stairs leading to the surface and the world she remembered.

  Vad’Alvarn watched her, eyes sorrowful, he remembered or he at least had some things explained to him. She did not even know. How could she have lived this long and simply forgotten? Perhaps she had been treated differently than he had? The answers were there in the lines of her body, the way she held herself way from him, her eyes fearful. Never before had he seen such an expression in her eyes. It was as if they were still separated. Now he moved forward, trying to put his arms around her. Surely she could tell their hearts beat in time just as he could? A torn spirit, rent in half by a single stabbing wound. Getting in closer, she retreated from him, eyes circling wildly in her face. Then she bolted, stumbling in her flying skirts. He did not pursue. The sound of her feet on the steps echoed down to him where he stood.

  “You offer me a meal made of stone for my sin,” he spoke to the air. “But I will sup still. I will work to have my fill once again of what was taken from me.”

  Jalcina ran, terror speeding her heartbeat. What had he meant? Hands clutched tight at the skirts of her dress. A room made of darkness, yet filled with light. She stumbled in the halls, men lining the walls watching at her as she did so, knowing her for the woman who had been at the king’s side at dinner. So they kept their hands to themselves, refusing to aid her for fear of whatever retribution the king might bring against them for some imagined infraction. Rod straight, eyes forward, it was as if she ran past statues. Bright silver chains weighing no more than the silk draping over her form. This time she fell to her knees. Black and silver chains joining two hands, two hearts, two lives…bound together to follow one another forever. Fearful tears in her eyes, she did not move from where she fell. Where had she seen this, heard this, known this before? Her breath was coming too fast, but she could not breathe deeply, her chest hurt again.

  “Princess,” someone spoke to her and then put their arms around her waist to aid her to her feet. “You should not be kneeling on the floor before all.” She struggled away, twisting hastily to see who was touching her. Navar, still wearing his finery from dinner and with amusement on his face, said,

  “Come, I will aid you to your rooms.” His hand was held out seemingly in friendship now, so different from when he had visited her earlier to deliver the message of doom. Arms coming up to defend her chest, she recoiled from his attempt to touch. Shaking her head, she pulled back. If only she could get away, the halls seemed the same in front of her eyes, was this the right hall, could she make it to the stables before they realized where she wanted to go? Her thoughts were stalled by Vad’Alvarn’s appearance in the hallway behind Navar. Now she was backing up again, dark eyes searching the red ones before her, searching for what she did not know, but there had to be something there, didn’t there? Some answer to what had happened between them.

  “Leave her alone, Navar.” He stopped his companion from reaching for her again. “I will send for someone to assist you to your room, Princess.” The chilling coldness was back in his eyes, the same icy gaze she remembered from the council room. Such a distance from the tenderness she had seen in the darkness when they were joined by their chains. “If I send someone, will you go with them easily?”

  Was he asking her to promise to she would not run away? Could she possibly make such a promise knowing she wanted nothing more than to escape this, aware he was mad and thought she was something she was not. How could he believe she would make such a promise? Yet she found herself bobbing yes, limbs gathered like a terrified rabbit, prepared to bolt from its place at the first sign of an opening.

  “Come, my brother.” Vad’Alvarn reached out to clap his hand down on Navar’s shoulder. “Let us drink to me, a husband an nineth time before you are married your first and let my bride get over her fearfulness. I will come for you before dawn, Princess.”

  Jalcina visibly shivered at the thought before backing away down the corridor far out of reach. She watched them go, aware of the movements they made, ready to run if they so much as turned. They did not. The two disappeared into a room further down the hall and Jalcina sank down against the wall and let the beginnings of tears drip out of her eyes. A soft touch at her shoulder brought her round from the crying and the same servant woman was on her knees before her.

  “I was not sure if you even noticed I was here,” she said, reaching out to touch Jalcina’s face a
nd wipe away some of the tears with her thumb. “Come, I’m to take you to your room.” Had he been merciful enough to find the same woman who had helped her dress intentionally, or was it simply coincidence? The woman stood up and Jalcina rose to follow her, looking around to see if Vad’Alvarn or Navar were anywhere around. Neither man appeared while they walked through the halls, something for which Jalcina was quite grateful. She did not know if she could stand to see either man in the eye after the display she had put forth earlier. Her composure somewhat back in place, she realized her behavior was far from what was expected of a bride on her wedding night. No story of cold feet she had ever heard ended in the bride sitting on the floor in a hall crying her eyes out at the sight of her new husband. Not one story and she had been told many by the older wives of Sartol whenever marrying time came close. It was just the way to tell those stories and enjoy each other’s company before taking the final step and tying the bonds to hold them through life together.

  Bound together by silver and black chains.

  Her hair floated around her like satin serpents as she tried to push the thought out of her mind. Every time the image flashed in front of her face, her heart beat all the faster. Memories, she felt like they were; these were memories she somehow had.

  The room she was lead to was dark, much like the room below, but it was a soft darkness created by fabric. There were no straight surfaces, only long bits of velvet and silk draped down from the walls to hang around cushions. There seemed to be no furniture. Jalcina could only gaze around in wonder.

  “There’s little wood on the Burning Island,” her hostess said by way of explanation. “So they use little furniture.”

  “Is the bed this way also?”

  “It’s built low to the floor on a platform,” the woman was moving around her, hands deftly untying the corset ties around her waist.