An Oath of Cursed Souls

Chapter Six

Under the evening sun, the garden of Keiha Palace glimmered like molten gold. The lake's glossy water sloshed peacefully against the shore, freed of most of the lotuses occupying its canals. It must have rained while I was in the bath, too; the wet ground smelled of petrichor as Ι tried not to step on the sprouting flowers.

"How graceful," Erhan commented as I pinched the heavy fabric of my dress up. "You represent Khania spectacularly."

A young couple of nobles strolled by us, inclining their head in sustained amusement. Blood rushed to my cheeks. I knew I didn't belong here, and everyone around me clearly did too. Their inquiring eyes attempted to force a confession out of my shrunken frame, an explanation as to why a supposed diplomat's understudy didn't know how to hold her tongue in front of the emperor. My only self-defense was to avoid their gaze. I turned to look at Erhan. Unlike me, he seemed composed enough to belong here - the sourness tightening his jaw made me doubt whether he liked that, however.

A calm song echoed across the garden, its notes deliberate and oddly snobbish. I wasn't sure what the court did with their free time, and my curiosity wasn't appetized by the sight before me. Some glimmering figures lounged around fountains, passing a platter of colorful foods among themselves; some others dully stared at their open books, or at wooden boards filled with pawns. None of them seemed to concern themselves with matters of their provinces like Lyra had insisted on during a long debate of ours.

As I glanced around the garden, I found myself wondering what the poor's money was invested in. Exotic fruits? Another round of kheda? Perhaps even the beautiful dress handed to me was tailored with the tears of famished Ashabans. I always wondered why the emperor would let any town of his deteriorate into filth; now, looking at the gilded cage he had detained himself in, that curiosity was starting to melt into frustration.

"Stop looking as if you want to slaughter the entire court," Erhan said through narrow lips.

I couldn't help the sense of injustice boiling in my chest, and even as I tried to douse it with the fear lingering through the atmosphere, the flame seethed instead. Blowing out a harsh breath, I turned my gaze to the placid lake. "It's just so- unfair."

He laughed, taking a turn towards a stone pavilion. White columns held a small roof above the paved circle, shielding two cushioned chairs sparkling with golden embroidery from the weak sunlight. "Life is unfair, my friend. Have you not realized already?"

I swallowed a stubborn lump down my throat.

The music was faint here. Erhan had chosen a reserved place for his scheming, yet the nobles were visible even through the summer mist floating around the garden. Their figures seemed so small, so insignificant - their pride, though, I could sense from miles away.

My mind itched with curiosity as I took a seat next to the enchanter. A part of me ached to know who, where, how, and the rest loathed the idea altogether. I was torn in shreds, every splinter of myself a different shade of desperate.

And a sick, desolate sliver of my heart yearned to give my family another chance in the cruel life they were given. With a shiver, I realized it wasn't the mission I feared so greatly; it was the secret eagerness I felt to do it.

I gave my head a violent shake. That was the despair talking. I couldn't let it spill into my words, too. "Will you keep me in the dark for much longer?" I muttered.

Erhan sunk into his seat and weaved his fingers together. "Do not give me an attitude, Miyu. I was the one who had to shake the grimy hand of every noble in this palace."

It was no wonder everyone regarded him with that bizarre stare. His etiquette stood out like a sore thumb. "But- that's not how they greet in Ashaba."

"I had to touch them," he explained with a shrug. "All other ways of doing so seemed a little too straightforward for this court."