Those vows didn't age well, but at least now the hall served a greater purpose as a safehouse.
Iris's wedding band made a subtle clink against the wooden table. Ice trickled down her spine and her head shot up like a stray spell. "Jukka udún!" She quietly swore in her father's native tongue.
Her free hand snatched up her mug and she chugged her coffee in such an unladylike fashion that Jasper would have been repulsed; her mother wouldn't have let her forget it for weeks.
Iris shucked off her worn oversized black coat and gently laid it to the side, ignoring the chill that immediately pierced her tunic. Comfort would simply have to wait.
She yawned and gave her wand a tight, deliberate swirl. "Tempus." Orange-gold writing appeared.
October 31, 700 A.D.
23:30
She was about to cancel the spell when a patch of grayish green caught her eye. Of course, she thought.
It was the skin tone of merpeople. Casually swimming past the dome, a mermaid grabbed her male companion by the hand and brought him to a stop. She curiously pointed her scaly finger up at something.
What it was, Iris couldn't tell, but the merman visibly sighed and pulled her away before something else could draw her attention.
Seconds later, a three-headed dog with the slick skin of a seal and webbed paws sped by, barking after them. If there was one thing to take solace in, it was that baby emperor piodas were still cute.
Iris hurriedly put an inspired quill back to the parchment. It was almost time.
......
While we struggle to sleep in our cages and wish for more than the scraps our illustrious rulers leave behind this night, this season's Star is rumored to be hosting a ball in honor of finally catching the eye of the crowned prince.
We can wish for change with the coming switch of leadership, but can we really afford to hold our breaths when it comes to our governance?
The real news, however, lies in the fact that against all odds, we, the bruised and beaten and forgotten, continue to have faith in the most tangible force of all—each other.
We also have hope. Hope for a better future and hope for a day that we will once again hold our heads high and wands in our hands.
As always, I remind you of the very thing King Samael continually endeavors to erase. You are made of magic, dear hearts. It is all around you, in your very bones and in the air you breathe. It riots in your soul at the presence of your chains, collars, and manacles; all the things that should never have been!
Do you not feel it? This perverse injustice?
If you dare to feel your birthright pulsing through your veins, this month's word is Pioda.
—Lady Greenace
With that, she reached down and pulled a knife out of her boot. Iris swiftly dragged the blade across her palm. Her lips moved silently, muttering a spell known only to her.
आप पढ़ रहे हैं
The Reaper's Bride
रोमांसIris was a half-witch and ex-journalist turned smuggler in the wake of an apocalypse that history books would later call a victorious conquering by the demon race. Owen was a wizard, a Baron, and her husband... who died in her arms at the height of...
