This is an ongoing companion piece to be read after completing the Snakesblood Saga. Because it takes place during the final chapter of the last book, it will be very full of spoilers. It’s also unedited first draft fluff… just for fun! Read at your own risk, and expect installments no closer together than once a month.
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Firal had always prided herself on her independence, but there were some places in her life where having extra hands had been a welcome benefit.
Pinning her hair into place was one of those.
She struggled in front of the mirror for ages before Minna came to her rescue.
“You’ve such curls,” the older woman crooned as she twisted them into tidy shapes and trapped them with pearl-headed pins. “Always so beautiful.”
“And hard to manage,” Firal muttered, though she admitted they were less troublesome here. The island’s humidity had ensured her hair always resembled a black storm cloud tumbling about her head. Here, the air was more dry, and while some strands still escaped to stand free, most had resigned themselves to the orderly life that the Triad expected from her.
“Oh, hush.” Minna swatted her shoulder. “You might fuss about it, but you know someone loves your hair. He’d be just as happy with it rolling around your shoulders like it does, but I think you’ll dazzle him tonight.”
Firal hoped that was true. It was the point, after all—to charm her husband into… something. Now that she sat and stared herself in the eye, she could not tell her reflection what her end goal actually was.
To reclaim what they’d shared before? That was impossible; they weren’t the people they once were.
To be something more than occupants of the same house, perhaps. To find fellowship and camaraderie, to hear thoughts and secrets and smile again.
That felt the most out of reach. She stared at herself in the mirror and her shoulders sank.
Minna paused to examine her in the mirror, then continued. “What’s on your heart that has you looking so forlorn?”
“I feel terribly shallow for saying this, but I don’t think I look like much of a queen without all the jewels I once wore.” Firal had gained a few treasures since she’d sought refuge in the Triad, but it was nothing like the necklaces and diadems she’d had before. Nor were her dresses anywhere as fine. She brushed her hands over the dark silk gown she wore and wondered what color it was. Her first thought was navy, but perhaps it was a dark green, or even just black or deep gray. The evening light made everything look golden and it was not kind to the eye. But it was the cut she found most flattering, so it was what she would wear, regardless of the color.
Little of what she had now was to her taste. None of it had been meant for her and was simply what had been turned up in a moment of need, scavenged from what was on hand at the Spiral Palace or, less comfortably, hidden about Rune’s house.
She knew he had guests. People he was expected to entertain, who he likely did not even consider friends, and it was only proper to have clothing on hand in case of emergencies. One never knew when a formal dinner might lead to problems. Worse still if anyone went riding. Firal had never grown comfortable with horses, but she knew they existed on the property. As she knew of the winding game trails that sprawled through the trees.
But it was still dresses for some unknown woman, and while they had been adjusted by Minna’s deft hand to fit her, their existence had bothered her.
Clearly, she would have to schedule a day to visit a tailor.
Firal tore her eyes from the gown as Minna’s reflection returned alongside her own, and she blushed at the realization the woman had left, letting her sulk over her appearance while Lulu played on the floor. Shame on her; she’d been so caught up in her own vanity that she’d forgotten to be decent companionship.
She opened her mouth to apologize at the same time Minna opened a box. Its contents made her gasp, instead.
Inside, a silver diadem with glittering white jewels rested on a cushion of black velvet.
“Where did you get that?” Firal scarcely breathed the words, lest it disappear like some sort of apparition.
“It was delivered while you washed. Here, let me pin it in your hair.” Minna had it free of its box and atop Firal’s head in a moment, and Firal sat in silence as she fastened it in place.
The next question was where he had gotten it. Or perhaps why. His station as some sort of war hero and the king’s apparent right hand meant such pieces were easily within his reach, but Rune had never been given to excess. Even his manor was testament to that. It was large, but she had gathered its ownership had a story of its own, one she had not been privy to yet. And while its furnishings were fine, they were not unreasonable. Quality, but not lavish. Adequate for his station and not a drop more. The furnishings in the uppermost floor of the house—the part he reserved for himself—were far more modest. As were things in the kitchen, and the study into which he disappeared most nights.
All parts of the house he frequented most often, she noted.
So why, then, would he spend such money on her?
“There we are.” Minna fastened the last pin and stepped back. “See if that’s more to your liking, then.”
Firal turned back to the mirror one last time and didn’t know if she was pleased or disappointed to see that her appearance was far more palatable with the diadem in her hair.
But to not respond would have been rude, after all the effort her companion put into aiding her. “Perfect. Thank you, Minna.” It was not entirely truthful, but she’d grown skilled at stretching the truth in whatever direction she needed, and the praise pleased the old woman.
“Good.” Minna smiled at her, then turned to Lulu. “Look at your mother, isn’t she so pretty?”
The girl’s head lifted, her eyes sparkling bright. “Pretty,” she agreed.
Firal almost blushed.
Then Minna made a sweeping motion with both hands, chasing her away from the vanity. “You go on, then. Your sweetheart will be waiting for you. Little Lu and I will be just fine while the two of you have a night out.”
“Thank you.” Firal slid from her seat and bent to kiss her daughter’s forehead. “And thank you. Be good for Auntie Minna. I’ll be back soon.”
“No sooner than midnight, or it means you’ve not had any fun,” Minna corrected.
Firal wasn’t sure she’d make it that long, but she was willing to try. “I’ll be back,” she repeated, without the promise of time.
She stopped at the door and took in the scene one last time before she made for the parlor. All that remained now was to Call for a Gate, and the rest was just waiting.
~:~:~:~:~:~:~
The Spiral Palace was bustling by the time the mages opened a Gate for Firal. She stepped into a sea of people arriving for what she swiftly surmised was more than just a banquet. Judging by the noise, she was more likely to describe it as a party. But she had been through the palace enough times by now to know where she was meant to go, and the crowds moving toward the ballroom, rather than the dining hall, proved she was correct. There would be food, no doubt, but first there would be socializing to do.
There were no formal introductions for the people who entered, merely a steady flow of the well-to-do and important members of the Royal City’s society between the ballroom and the adjacent banquet hall. In a way, Firal was glad for it. How was she to be introduced? She’d been a queen, recently enough that it felt peculiar to be without a crown. But now she was nothing. An ordinary woman, not even a fully-fledged mage. She had no claim to fame or power, yet here she was, her skirts brushing past the ankles of people with far more standing than she. Strange, she thought, how swiftly her life had gone about in a circle.
The last time she had visited a ball with Rune, she had been in the exact same position—a nobody dancing with a stranger who belonged in that world.
She didn’t know where Rune would be, but she was willing to guess the king had already chased him into the ballroom to socialize.
She was not mistaken.
He was at the far end of the room already, in the thick of things rather than avoiding them. Men clustered around him, unfamiliar in face but recognizable as nobles by the finery they wore. All of them held drinks in their hand, she noted with a hint of displeasure. Not the goblets of fine wine that serving staff carried about on gilded trays, but tiny things of cut crystal that held the sort of strong-smelling amber liquor Rune kept at home.
That would be another subject to discuss as they moved forward, she supposed. She had never known him to drink; somewhere along the line, he had developed a fondness for it that troubled her now.
One step at a time, she told herself. Part of her felt bad to have a list of things about him she wished to fix, but she was quick to chase it away. There would be things about her he would wish to change too, she had no doubt. Besides, that was a vice and it ought to be fixed, either way.
Now was just not the time.
Firal held her skirts just high enough for her to walk, but shy of letting the toes of her silk slippers peek out. She had learned to traverse ballrooms and events with a gliding grace and she employed it now; it let her fit in when she felt she didn’t belong, though it did not keep eyes from falling on her.
That people stared was no surprise. She was an oddity and a mystery here. A queen many of these nobles had heard of, due to her trade arrangements with Vicamros that allowed the Triad to prosper beyond any of the northern countries, yet few had met her—if any. That would have been enough to earn their curiosity. Adding on the fact that she had lost her kingdom and crown and yet still walked among them was sure to fuel gossip, and already she caught soft whispers between nobles as they tried to determine why she had been invited and what value she brought.
She ignored them all. Let them talk; it made no difference to her. As long as her husband wanted her present, she would be there, not caring what anyone had to say.
Only a quarter of the way across the ballroom, a white-bearded gentleman in fine velvet robes stepped into her path. “Ah, Lady Kaim-Ennen! I had not expected you might come on such short notice.”
Half a dozen heads whipped around at the name with which he addressed her. Firal smiled, though she could not keep her brows from climbing toward her hairline. She recalled the man, yet a moment passed before she succeeded in finding his name. “Councilor Parthanus. I happened to be in the Royal City today, so I caught wind of the event early.”
“A delight, to be sure.” He wiped his hands against his robe as if he wasn’t sure what to do with them. Maybe he wasn’t. Was a handshake appropriate? Or were they better off just exchanging pleasantries?
Firal released her skirts, but kept her own hands relaxed at her sides. She wouldn’t give anyone the pleasure of flustering her. At this point, only one man present could do that. “As it is a delight to be here. We’ve been so busy, you know. Settling the new residents of Aldaanan.”
“A large undertaking, but I’ve heard rumors it’s not the first time you’ve had to move a large number of people.” His bushy white brows twitched with interest. “I fear we know very little about your country’s history. I spend a great deal of time volunteering with the library and would love to see our collection on the subject expand, if it interests you? I understand you’re something of a scholar, yourself.”
“I am.” And as fond as she was of libraries, she found herself wishing she could slip away to join her husband. Her eyes traveled to the far end of the ballroom.
He was no longer there.
“Ah, wonderful to hear!” The councilor exclaimed, and Firal realized belatedly that she had not specified which part she was agreeing with. It wasn’t that she didn’t not wish to share her homeland’s history, simply that she did not wish to share it right now. Too late for her to correct it; a light already sparked in the man’s eyes. “Might I introduce you to the head librarian? I suspect the two of you will get along fantastically.” It was a question, yet not at all, for he already motioned for her to move in the right direction.
Firal forced herself to smile again. “Of course.” And any other time, it would have been a pleasure. She glanced up again as the councilor herded her toward a cluster of obvious scholars, but no matter where she looked, Rune was nowhere to be found.
No surprises there, she thought bitterly. Some things never changed, and when she figured out where he went, that would be the first problem they fixed.