Chapter 17 : The Missing Piece
When she stopped to catch her breath, Yisreal loomed in front of her, and she fell back to the ground. Quickly, she groped for a rock, ready to strike him in the face.
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Places mentioned:
Castle Katella
A self-sufficient, city-like castle where the King and the Queen and the unmarried Valrinos live.
Tyrannoson:
One of the three kingdoms on the Central Continent, ruled by the Valrino family.
Spring
The capital city of Tyrannoson.
Linsaidea:
One of the three kingdoms on the Central Continent, northwest of Tyrannoson, across a narrow sea, the Rustless Sea, to Mandia. A nomadic, rather savage people that tame mammoths.
Mertie:
Ivan's hometown, a rural village.
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Creatures (that can speak and have names) mentioned:
Leopoldo Valrino
The King of Tyrannoson, and the sixth monarch of the Valrino family.
Queen Evelyn
Leopold'o’s wife. Her brother is the King of Dovewing.
Yisreal Valrino
A son of the King. Leopoldo met the young Yisreal in the woods while hunting. Then the King brought him back to Castle Katella and announced him to be his son.
Chester Valrino
The first-born son of King Leopoldo and Queen Evelyn.
Sean Valrino
The second son of the Queen.
Leslie Valrino
The third son of the Queen. When Leopoldo first brought Yisreal back from hunting, the Queen was pregnant with Leslie.
Nicholas Valrino
The youngest son of the Queen.
Carwen Valrino
The youngest child and the only daughter of King Leopoldo and Queen Evelyn.
Lewis
Ivan’s apprentice, working at the Medical Tower.
Princess Lorien
The daughter of the King of Linsaidea. She arrives in Tyrannoson to fulfill a marriage promise between the two nations, a condition for the Tyrannoson army to pass through the Mammoth Plain to invade Mandia.
Mitheran
One of the two guards and mammoth riders for Princess Lorien.
Armoros
One of the two guards and mammoth riders for Princess Lorien.
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17
The King took his seat beside the Queen and signaled for a servant—who came over with the next step—to halt. Not a single Valrino tried to ease the tension now that the King was fully engrossed in it.
The moment stretched for seconds until Nicholas asked Lorien, “Are you alright?”
The Queen frowned. “What happened?”
“Princess Lorien has been shaking,” Nicholas said. “Are you cold?”
Lorien shook her head, her eyes downcast. The Queen gestured for a maid to drape her own shawl over the princess, but the King stopped her.
“Take that off.” He turned to the servant he had halted earlier. “Bring me the tiger skin.”
Yisreal took the folded tiger skin from the servant and passed it to his father, who handed it to Nicholas. Nicholas stepped behind Lorien, gathered her hair in one hand, and draped the freshly flayed pelt over her shoulders. Maybe it was the raw, bloody smell, but Lorien looked like she was about to throw up.
Armoros stood and moved to her side, his hands resting on her shoulders. “I’ll take you back to your chamber.”
“No, I don’t think so,” Nicholas said, staring at Armoros’s eyes.
Armoros didn’t move, though the smell clearly affected him too. His hands clenched the fur, fingers digging in as if he meant to tear it from Lorien’s shoulders. The Valrinos had closed in around him like a pride of lions circling prey. By now, nearly everyone had reached the same unspoken conclusion: these two Linsaidea guards were odd in ways that went far beyond their masks.
“Why leave?” Mitheran spoke up from his seat. “You wouldn’t want to miss the story, would you?”
Armoros’s grip slackened. After a weighted pause, he returned to his seat.
Sean raised a brow at Yisreal. “So if the masks came off, they’d die?”
Yisreal kept his eyes on Mitheran and Armoros as he answered, “Not all of them. And not necessarily they would die.”
Mitheran set down his cup with a quiet clink. “Why don’t you test that theory, Your Highness?” He tilted his head at Yisreal.
Leslie filled in the gap of Yisreal’s hesitation, “I’d be happy to do it for you, Yisreal.”
Mitheran smiled, speaking to Yisreal as if no one else was present, “You’ll have all the chances in the world to observe our ugly faces.”
Yisreal looked at the King, so did everyone else on the spot who heard Mitheran.
Armoros touched Mitheran's wrist on the table as he took this confrontation over. “Your Grace,” Armoros stood up again, “we've been listening to your mockeries enough, and it seems like your family will not stop until we satisfy your appetite.”
He strolled to Yisreal, standing in front of him face to mask. “You shall be satisfied when it rains. Isn't that right, My Princess?”
Sean nudged Chester and then spoke across the table to Leslie, “Hear, hear, riddles and suspense, rain and appetite and all of that—learn from it, brother.”
Even the King and Queen loosened up hearing Sean's banter. In this moment of relief, Princess Lorien suddenly stood up and let the tiger skin fall to the ground, exposing her shoulders that were blemished with its blood.
She looked to Yisreal and said, “I need water.”
“That’s easy,” the King responded before everyone realized that she only spoke to Yisreal. “How much do you need?”
“A lake,” she said.
“There's actually a lake over there,” Chester said.
The Queen glanced at Nicholas, and he stood up. “I'll walk you there.”
As Nicholas spoke, he walked ahead. Lorien glanced at Yisreal. Nicholas turned around to check on her, and she finally left the table to follow after him. At this point, Armoros returned to his seat. Seeing that the topic wasn’t pushed further, I left for a piss.
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I'd been to this prairie once with Carwen, another time with Yisreal, both for a visit to the stable. A little distance was good for freshening up. Twice I drank and twice was enough to wonder what if I just stayed drunk and slacked each day off, loafing around, since Castle Katella would never run short of wine.
The sun had touched the horizon. I walked toward the west into that burning half of the sky dome, where the breeze came as the lake was. It was even farther than the stable. How would Nicholas walk her there? Clearly, they needed a horse. The stable was empty—no horse, no groom. Maybe Elan was watching over the horses outside the banquet, but being a slave, he wouldn't be able to get any closer.
I came to the lake and sat down on the grass, seeking silhouettes and whispers. The lake reflected the flames of the sky, like mirrors on fire, broken by clusters of water plants, gradually dimming as night fell. Through the pale stems and feathery leaves of the plants, I saw a canoe perched on the water, with two figures in it.
My power seemed stronger after drinking—my eyes captured far more close-ups from greater distance and my ears heard even the sniff and the grunt. I heard the boisterous crowd and music from the banquet, amid which the fire crackled. Being alone in the prairie, my mind wandered off the scene, but I resisted the invite to meditate on the memory of Mertie. It consumed me thinking of childhood as it was mostly pleasant.
The west sky had burned out, and the east earth was lit in bonfires. They sat around the fire, drinking, laughing, clapping, and in the inner circle, they were dancing.
Away from the crowd, the light, and the noises, Princess Lorien emerged in my sight as she ran into deeper darkness with Yisreal following her like a shadow. She ran all the way toward a large rock standing in a patch of rocky barren ground. When she stopped to catch her breath, Yisreal loomed in front of her, and she fell back to the ground. Quickly, she groped for a rock, ready to strike him in the face.
“What do you want?” she asked in a suppressed voice instead of screaming out loud.