House of Eclipses by Casey L. Bond

10

I was still meandering along the riverbank when Kiran found me. “Atena,” he greeted.

My heart stumbled. No one was with him. No one seemed to be watching us. Was it safe to speak to him? “What are you doing here?” I hissed.

“Looking for you. It seems you’re missing.”

“Clearly, I’m not.”

The corner of his lips turned upward just a fraction. “I’ll see you to your rooms. Vada is there. A bath is being filled for you.” He swept an arm toward the House of Dusk, the sight of the drab stone pulling a sigh I couldn’t stifle.

“You don’t like it in the dusk lands?” he asked as we walked.

I glanced across the grounds and through the gardens. I didn’t see anyone hiding, but if Kiran had been sent to find me, others were likely looking.

“It’s gray and so sullen, I find it hard to feel anything but the same.”

“You miss Sol,” he rasped. “It’s hard being so far from her.”

I felt ashamed for my selfish behavior. Kiran and Saric were Sol’s priests. She’d chosen them, but her priests also had to choose her. They either accepted her call and gave up their lives, possessions, and dreams to dedicate themselves to the sun goddess, or they rejected such a life to carve out one without such constraints.

Kiran had done exactly that. He’d left his family when they needed his strength in their crop fields. He’d moved away from them into the temple where he joined a new family and a mysterious brotherhood. He loved his chosen life because he loved Sol.

“What did you think of the Lumin?” he asked conversationally, but the way he watched me from the corner of his eye made me wonder how weighty the question was.

I shrugged. “He seems nice.”

“Is that all?” he asked.

“He’s considerate, clever, attractive… but I’ve only spoken to him a handful of moments and we both know that’s not enough to form a true opinion of someone.”

His pinky drifted across mine as we drew near the House. I stiffened at his touch. What if someone saw? I hoped it was only the seed of our friendship and his caring heart that led him to chance it. It couldn’t be anything more. He and I knew that. We had to tread lightly even daring to be friends. We could never be more. And if someone had seen what he just did, Kiran could be killed for touching me, even discreetly.

He could not do such things anymore. The sands were the only safe place for us to be friends. And even there, he shouldn’t touch me, regardless of the emotion behind the action.

Kiran quietly saw me inside and escorted me to the seventh floor where he deposited me with a very worried Vada. I opened my mouth to tell him I’d see him later before stopping myself. I had to be careful. I’d almost spoken to him irreverently in front of Vada, a stranger who might tell others that the priest and Atena were close friends.

Rumors like that could more than damage reputations, they could kill. They could also ruin my chances of making progress with Caelum.

Vada clutched her chest. “We’ve looked everywhere for you!”

“I was near the river. I didn’t realize it was so late. It’s hard to tell without Sol above us.”

The worried pinch in her lips smoothed. “I thought Sol did not move.”

“She doesn’t slide across the sky, but she has a dark spot that rotates. We can tell the hour based on its position.”

“Ah.” Vada nodded in understanding. “Your bath is ready,” she said, urging me toward the bathing room. “We have much work to do before the feast tonight.”

“What kind of work?”

She stopped in front of the tub of steaming water and took another of her sachets, emptying divine-smelling salts into it. We quietly watched them dissolve, each lost in our own thoughts. “I know you dined with the Lumin this morning. I won’t deign to guess how that meal went, as you disappeared afterward—”

“No,” I interrupted. “Vada, breakfast was perfect. It’s just that everyone was busy afterward, and I don’t like staying in my room all the time. In Helios, I can disappear into the sand, which is actually a vast sea of desert dunes that would entrap even a seasoned traveler, but it’s my back yard and I know it like I know my own heart. There, Sol’s rays are so hot that the sand burns the feet of even the priests if they don’t wrap them well enough.”

“But it doesn’t bother you?”

I shook my head and closed my eyes, remembering the comfort of Sol’s rays. “It feels cool to me. Comforting. I spend my free hours walking in the sand.” I swallowed thickly. “It’s where my mother’s remains are spread. I spend time with her.”

Vada turned to me and clasped my upper arm gently. “I’m sorry, Atena Noor.”

“You can just call me Noor. And, I promise I’ll try not to worry you again.”

As the steam fogged the room, Vada gestured to the door. “I’ll leave you to bathe, unless you require help.”

“I don’t, but thank you.”

“I knew what the Lumin would wear to breakfast this morning and what dress you brought that would best fit the occasion, but I’ve no idea what to suggest for tonight.” She cleared her throat. “Your sister is already dressed.”

I laughed. “From your reaction, I’m guessing she’s showing plenty of skin.”

“That, my dear, would be an understatement.” Her eyes widened as if the shocking memory arose again.

The Luminans, thus far, covered more of their bodies than we did. In the heat, my people had to stay comfortable, so we were not modest. Besides, Citali did not know the meaning of the word.

“My sister is not subtle. She never has been.”

Vada flicked a glance at the armoire. “Do you intend to wear something similar?”

“I own nothing similar. My style differs from my sister’s. But I’ll tell you what I’d prefer if you could find it for me while I bathe. It’s red and gold. The top is cropped, but the gown’s skirt is full and intricate. The most it will bare is my collar bones and a sliver of stomach.”

“Of course.”

I closed the door as she strode to the armoire. Undressing, I wondered if Citali’s approach would win the Lumin over. Was Caelum the sort of man who was easily manipulated by beautiful things? If so, Sol help him. Citali would eat him alive.

Citali wanted to show him what she would look like on his bed. She would leave nothing to his imagination.

I chose a different path. I wanted him to know how I would look as his queen.

Vada brushed my hair until it was mostly dry. I caked as much powder as I could onto my throat. Again, she noticed the mottling, but didn’t pry and for that, I was grateful.

I was grateful to her for other reasons, too. She was kind and helpful. She seemed to intuit what I needed before I was even aware. And she made this strange, gray place a little brighter just by being present.

There was also the fact that Vada wasn’t afraid of me. The servants my father employed were scared of us all. One misstep and they knew it might be their last. Father had put many to death for mistakes anyone could’ve made just because his emotions were severe and untamed.

She watched as I carefully traced coal around my eyes and added shimmer powder to my cheeks and red stain to my lips, covering the scab that Caelum noticed even though it was thinner than ever now.

She weaved the top layer of my hair back in a series of intricate braids, leaving the rest full. “Do you need help dressing?”

I shook my head. “I could do this with my eyes closed. Father enjoys hosting feasts.” Even as our people starve.

“Noor,” she began, but hesitated. She held her back straight and clasped her hands in front of her.

“You can speak freely to me. I hope you know that.”

She nodded. “I just want to make an offer, but don’t want to offend you in any way.”

I smiled. “I won’t be offended.”

“The Lumin will host a ball which will include another lush meal and dancing. The gowns you have would more than suffice. They’re beautiful. More beautiful than anything I’ve seen, but… would you like me to have a dress made for you in the Luminan style? In the colors of our kingdom?”

In the colors of Lumina… Hmm.“Are you doing the same for Citali?”

She tipped up her chin. “No.”

I smiled. Vada was on my side. I wondered how well she knew Caelum. “Then, I’d very much appreciate it.”

Her eyes glittered. “I just so happen to know the most skilled seamstress in the kingdom, and she just so happens to be here with us. She’ll need to get your measurements first thing tomorrow to get started in time to finish by the evening of the ball.”

“The ball will take place at the end of negotiations. That will likely take weeks, but if things go well, it could happen much sooner, perhaps within days.”

She nodded. “No matter which, it’ll be enough time.”

I grabbed Vada’s hand and squeezed. “Thank you, Vada.”

She nodded. There was something about her I couldn’t figure out. Servants were treated far greater in Lumina than Helios. That was beyond apparent, but she didn’t act like any servant I’d seen. There was a familiar keenness to her; an air about her that made us equals, neither better than the other despite the blood coursing through our veins. We were both born into our stations, helpless to escape them, but Vada still wore a crown.

It was in the gray braid encircling her head, yes, but it was also in her posture and bearing. In the pride she took in her work. In the sharp intellect that lay in her observant eyes.

She rifled through the armoire for sandals while I changed into my favorite, most flattering dress. It fit me better than any other I owned. In fact, it felt like I didn’t own the gown at all, but the gown owned me. I was born just to hold it up so others could see her grandness.

Twisting threads of pure, spun gold had been sewn through the red silk. Gold embellished the short sleeves, collar, and coiled around my bare stomach like a gilded serpent.

When Vada found a pair of dark gold sandals, she turned, triumphant. Then she gasped and clutched her chest. “My goodness! You look exactly how I imagine Sol might look if she walked the earth for an evening.”

I blushed at her compliment. “Thank you.”

“If the Lumin doesn’t say the same, I’ll be shocked.”

“You know him well enough to assume that?” I teased.

She held the sandals out for me to take and I bent to strap them to my feet and ankles. Together, we chose a wide choker collar that would hide most of the bruising on my throat. “Will it be painful to wear?” Vada worried.

Not nearly as painful as the crushing hands had been, or as sore as the bruises were the hours after he left them on me, or as painful as the concealed lump on my head was until it sank back in. “It doesn’t hurt,” I lied.

It didn’t hurt terribly bad, but with every movement of my neck, I was reminded of my father and his hatred. It made me crave the crown of moonlight all the more.

Vada chose a pair of golden earrings to match my choker. They dangled from my lobe to skim my collar bones. I slid a few more bangles onto each wrist. She glanced from the sun diamonds to me. “Would they burn me if I touched them?”

I nodded. “They would.”

“Why does Citali not have them?”

“I inherited them from my mother. While Citali and I share the same father, we emerged from different wombs.”

“The two of you look somewhat alike, but…”

“Not,” I finished with a smile. “I’ve been told I look like my mother. Exactly like her.”

A knock came at the door and Zuul stood in the hallway, quietly speaking to Citali. The two were probably plotting my death.

Vada promised to lock my room after she finished tidying up if I wanted to leave with Zuul and Citali, but I told her it was fine and that I would wait for her. She hurried to straighten the mess we’d made and bustled out the door. I followed her and closed my door softly, then locked it and slid the key into my pocket.

Citali glowered when her eyes combed over me. She wore a dress that was little more than scraps of cloth carefully stretched to cover her nipples and backside. The fabric was orange, fading to yellow. She looked like a scantily clad lily.

“You used your best dress this early?” she laughed as if I was stupid.

I shrugged. “You know what they say about first impressions. Not that you aren’t making your own.”

“Exactly,” she said, sashaying down the hall and away from me. Zuul trailed her, not bothering to escort me even though that must have been his order. “And, it’s actually our second meeting, not the first,” she corrected.

In her mind, it was time to begin the game she and I were playing, and she was prepared to do whatever it took to win.

I made my way down the staircases and paused to look over the crowd of Helioans and Luminans gathered at the landing, waiting to be allowed into the great room where the feast would take place. I smelled the smoked meat and heady spices, reminding me I hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

Citali made her way down the steps and Caelum, ever the gentlemen, waited to greet her at the bottom. He smiled at her, took her hand, and placed a soft kiss on the back of it.

He said something that made her laugh, then her smile melted away and she turned to look at me over her shoulder. His eyes followed, catching on me where I stood at the top of the steps. My pulse raced as if my heart wanted to burst from my chest and run the race in which Citali and I were competing, as if she alone wanted to claim him as her prize.

He didn’t wear his crown tonight, but he did wear a startling black tunic and matching pants. The fabric was crisp and fit him as well as my gown fit me. His blue-black hair was slicked back, but a few pieces fell into his eyes. He brushed them away and waited, hands folded in front of him.

His crystal blue eyes didn’t leave me for even a second.

Citali tried to speak to him and pull his attention away but failed so miserably she pouted like a petulant toddler.

I proceeded down the steps, suppressing a smile.

The sides of Citali’s breasts were on full display, as were her tone, trim legs. If he was the sort to care only for appearances, he wouldn’t be watching me this way.

His attention never flinched and mine was fixed on him just as eagerly. The apple in his throat bobbed as I drew close, then stopped on the bottom step.

“Are you going to kiss my hand the way you kissed my sister’s?” I asked in a low voice only he could hear.

His lips quirked. “Would that please you, Atena Noor?”

“No,” I said, raising my chin. “It would not. I am not my sister and she is not me.”

“Whatever shall I do?” His words trailed away.

He proffered both hands and I almost rolled my eyes. If the best he could come up with was to kiss the backs of both my hands, he needed to work on his creativity. But instead of drawing my hands to his supple lips, he tugged on them so I had to step down, placing my chest almost flush with his. He bent to reach me and leaned in close. The phoenix in my stomach awakened and flapped her fiery wings when his warm breath ghosted over my cheek and those perfect lips found the corner of my jaw.

“Was that acceptable?” he rasped.

“I suppose,” I said, desperately trying to tamp down a smile and unable to completely do so.

Citali’s glare from over his shoulder could’ve melted the sun diamonds I wore. In response, I winked. She bared her teeth, faking a smile when he stepped away and remembered her again.

Within the crowd, my father stood. For the first time I can remember since Mother died, he smiled at me.

At first, I thought it might be pride filling his expression, but he’d never been proud of me. What filled his features was greed.

I smiled back, thinking all the while that I would soon be responsible for wiping that greedy grin away for good.

The doors of the great hall opened and people parted to allow the Aten, followed closely by Zuul, then Caelum and the Atenas into the room first.

Helios’s best musicians sat in a corner of the room so the sound of their instruments would project to every angle. They began to play as Father observed the artistically arranged, still-steaming food. Long tables stretched most of the length of the room, but one smaller table sat apart, perpendicular to the long ones for the masses.

It was an honor to have been invited here, but Father wouldn’t deign to sit and eat with anyone he didn’t consider chosen by one of the gods, set apart from the common citizens. Father moved to one of the heads of the table and waited for Caelum to stand in front of the opposite seat.

Saric and Kiran, dressed in their ceremonial golden kilts, their chests bare and wearing the bicep cuffs given to them by Sol, hovered nearby with two priests of Lumos. Their counterparts were dressed in loose, pale blue tunics and matching pants, tied at the waist by a silver braided cord. Their feet were tucked into thick, white boots. I wondered if they were too warm, and Saric and Kiran too cold.

Citali and I waited to see which seat we’d be taking. I prayed mine would be far from Kiran. Today’s brush was too much, but I hadn’t had the opportunity to tell him so yet. I didn’t want him to be encouraged by my silence.

My eyes flicked to Caelum, but he was already looking at me. My heart skipped happily as he smiled.

Father gestured to me and Citali. “Where would you like for them to sit, Lumin?”

He was letting Caelum decide. Deferring to him. Something Father never did at home, but which was a wise move on his part. He was pretending to be kind, acting like a perfect father who genuinely wanted peace and trade to exist between the two kingdoms. He acted like he thought Caelum was worthy of one of our hands.

In reality, he was more than happy to offer us up to him like we meant nothing and had no minds to choose our own husbands.

Caelum smiled and thanked him. “I’d be honored if Noor would sit at my right hand, and Citali at my left.”

Father inclined his head. He shot us a permissive look and we moved to the seats he’d indicated. I nearly glowed, forgetting my internal grumblings about unfairness. The right hand was considered a place of reverence. It is where his queen would sit if he had one.

Citali occupied the second most important seat. And it ate away at her.

She fidgeted with her place setting, refusing to meet my taunting eyes.

The Luminan priests, clad in loose, silver tunics and matching wide legged pants, sat beside me and Citali, then Saric and Kiran took the seats at Father’s left and right hands.

“Your mother is not joining us tonight?” Father asked Caelum.

“I’m afraid she has a terrible headache. She said she would come down as soon as the herbs she took eases it.”

Father nodded. “It’s the light.”

What light? This gray in-between felt so dull, I wouldn’t consider it light at all, but in a place where true darkness crept into every crevice, it must seem bright here. I hadn’t thought of how different the dusk lands were to those from Lumina.

“I hope she feels better soon,” Citali cooed.

Caelum inclined his head and thanked her for her concern.

I noted that his mother came with him. I wondered about his father. Did he have siblings? His eyes met mine as I studied him. He offered a small, quizzical smile, which I returned.

Our table was served fresh food as guests filled the hall and made their way around the luscious buffet. Helioans were excited to have a comforting meal from home, while Luminans seemed eager to try something new and different from what they were accustomed to eating. The atmosphere was light and jovial.

Caelum leaned toward me and whispered, “I’ll admit I’m not sure what to try first.”

A Lumin in need; I am lucky indeed. “I can help you decide.”

“I’d love that.”

I gestured to his plate and he scooped it up, relinquishing it with a curious smile when I took it from him. I stood to reach a few of my favorites and filled his plate with them. When I sat his plate back in front of him, I realized that the Luminan half of the table had gone still and quiet.

My eyes flicked to his. He coughed to cover a laugh. “What did I do wrong?” I asked, alarmed.

His priests looked down at their half-full plates. They smothered their grins, poorly, might I add, for the pious.

Citali quirked a sharp brow as she sat back and crossed her arms. She smirked, clearly enjoying my evident faux pas and gleefully watching to see exactly what I’d done and what it might mean for her.

Caelum inclined his head. “Thank you, Atena Noor,” he said. “I understand that things are different in Helios. It’s just that in Lumina, when a woman plates a man’s food or a man hand-feeds a woman, it announces their intent to… uh…”

“To?” I stiffened.

“To be intimate with that person,” he continued. He put a hand up in defense. “But I know that was not your intent. We all know that.”

My face turned to flame. “No,” I said, quickly recovering my composure. “I simply provided my favorite foods for you to taste. I wasn’t implying anything other than that you should try them.”

He gave a gracious nod and thanked me again.

Lumos’s priests finally resumed eating and plucking food from the golden platters lining the table’s middle. Candlelight flickered overhead. The chandeliers had been lowered to provide more light for our feast, but I wished they still hung high. My cheeks were still hot. I sipped water to cool them, but it seemed nothing would extinguish the flame.

Citali straightened her spine, so pleased with my mistake, she struck up a conversation. “How interesting the differences in our customs, Lumin. Please, tell us more about Luminan culture.”

Citali did not care about Luminan culture.

Citali was crafty and didn’t want to chance a mistake. Unlike me.

She wanted to learn about him and his people, marching each step toward the crown of moonlight, perfect and precise. Citali would not stumble.

The priests exchanged stories of their people’s customs and how they’d originated. It was interesting to hear about Lumina and Lumos, so different from Helios and Sol. We could sit for weeks and still not know all there was to tell about one another’s kingdoms and ways of life, but this was a start. Maybe my mistake opened the door to communication and something constructive could come from it.

A frigid hand squeezed mine under the table. Unlike Kiran’s earlier brush, this cool touch was comforting. It was strong and sure. “It’s okay,” Caelum whispered.

I nodded and tried to smile but was certain it looked forced. Nervousness shook my hands. “I hope you like the food.”

He cut into a piece of cooked pheasant and his eyes widened when he tasted the spices coating its skin. “It’s delicious!”

I grinned, the tension easing as he tasted delicacy after delicacy, complimenting all but the raw sunfish eggs. I laughed at his expression when he forced himself to swallow those.

Citali pushed her plate away petulantly and waited for our laughter to end. “Lumin, would you honor me with a dance?”

His lashes fluttered in surprise, but he wiped his mouth with a napkin and accepted her invitation. “Of course, Atena.”

I wondered if he had asked her to drop her title in private as well. If when they danced, he would only call her Citali.

He scooted his chair out, his crystal eyes meeting mine before he offered her his hand. The two made their way to the dance floor and every eye in the room fell on them as they swayed to a mild rhythm. Citali might have worn half a dress, but she truly was beautiful. She laughed with him and his hand settled on her back, the other clasped with hers. He held it out in the air, their arms stiff.

Citali looked at him like his face was Sol herself and she’d been away from her rays too long. He seemed at ease and completely comfortable with her. His shoulders were relaxed, as was his smile when it wasn’t his turn to speak.

Father noticed them, too. His pleasure was as palpable as his greed. His plan was blossoming. It didn’t matter to him whether the Lumin chose Citali or me; he just needed one of us on the inside. But if Caelum chose Citali and Sol chose Zarina, he would have no use for me.

I had to find that crown before my sister did.

They danced for a few more songs. Father quirked a brow at me. A challenge. He’d told me what would happen if I failed. He was reminding me of it now, telling me to rise above if I wanted to live.

The sun diamonds warmed against my wrist and ankle.