The Poisoned Throne

Chapter 49

Evelyn

Evelyn stepped out onto bridge, shading her eyes with a hand. The sun cut her eyes nevertheless as she peered over the sandstone city of monotone, square buildings. It was all blue sky and narrow cobblestone paths in between withering buildings with blue-painted windows that were falling apart.

Raynor stepped out beside her, narrowing his eyes against the sun. "The docks really aren't the most flattering part of town."

"I hope not." 

She turned her body to look up at Amalia, who was descending. Her dark hair was pulled into a high bun and her dress was white with a flowery pattern. Her hand held a matching fan, which she was fluttering ceaselessly, trying to escape the heat.

"I did not know that air could choke you," she commented as she continued down the ramp. "I have worn this dress for ten minutes and I already need a bath and a change."

"It gets better," Raynor assured her. "The first few minutes after a bath is worst."

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "You're saying I should just get used to the smell?"

He laughed and held out his arm so that he could lead her down to the docks. Evelyn waited for Sybil, who had been making sure that everything was unloaded properly. 

"How is it, living here?" Evelyn asked once they were side by side.

Sybil waved at some of those who had united to greet her and her husband. "It's really rather delightful," she said. "The people are so nice, so... different. If you think the weather is hot, then you should try their food."

Raynor overheard this and laughed as he looked over his shoulder. "Oh, you'll understand tonight," he told Evelyn. "I've had the kitchen make a traditional feast for us tonight."

"That sounds wonderful," Amalia said and turned to Evelyn. She grimaced with excitement, her smile so wide that it looked painful, and Evelyn felt her chest warm with laughter. 

The palace was anything but bland; it stood in stark contrast to the surrounding desert. It was an explosion of colorful mosaics and exotic flowers growing in every corner. In the middle of the building, a rectangular garden with lush grass and a pool that collected rain water was planted. Birdsong filled your ears, and, though they were shy, you could sometimes catch a glimpse of the bright singers. 

Palm trees and bushes shadowed benches amongst the flowers, and the air was considerably cooler and not as dry as outside. When she stepped closer, Evelyn could see that the bottom of the pool was made of pure gold.

"Oh, this is wonderful," Amalia breathed. 

Raynor frowned with dissatisfaction and Sybil placed a hand on his arm as she explained. 

"The inequality that it took to build this is horrific," she said. "We're trying to return some of the riches to the workers, through building projects and such."

"A good cause," Amalia noted, although she did not seem to preoccupied with it. "Who did you say lived previously?"

"A man named Kadir Shid-al," he said. "The paintings along the walls are stories. It's a tradition here, to document your achievements through these sorts of decorations."

Evelyn drifted towards an empty wall. "Why is nothing written here?"

Raynor walked to her while Sybil showed Amalia around. "The spot was reserved for when he killed his brother," he said.

She frowned. "A somewhat macabre goal."

He shifted with discomfort and she remembered. With eyes that avoided hers, he said, "There was a yearlong feud between them."