Sky of Wind by Emily Deady

Chapter 22

Sol was not in their room when Meena awoke the next morning. She struggled into one of her fancier gowns, unsure what the activities of the day would entail. As she fumbled with the laces behind her back, the door creaked open with a light knock.

“My lady sent me to see if you needed anything?” a bright voice said.

With her hands awkwardly pulled over her shoulders, Meena shuffled around to face the door.

The lady’s maid appeared to be a handful of years older than Meena. Her dress was well made and looked new. “Let me help you with that,” she said immediately.

“Thank you,” Meena replied. “I seem to have tied myself into knots.”

“Of course you have,” the maid took the laces from Meena’s hands and deftly worked them where they were supposed to be.

“What’s your name?” Meena asked after a moment of silence.

“Laila, my lady,” the maid responded. She offered nothing more.

“You arrived at the perfect moment,” Meena said, smiling politely, though the woman behind her back could not see it.

Laila said nothing, but she grunted as she tied the laces closed. “Would you like me to help with your hair?”

“Please,” Meena responded. She moved forward to sit at a small table against the wall.

Laila followed behind her and immediately started undoing the thick braid in Meena’s hair.

Meena relaxed into the maid’s touch. She’d been solely responsible for her hair maintenance since she’d left Iseldis, and it was luxurious to leave the laborious task to someone else.

Having removed the braid, Laila carefully used her fingers to separate out any large knots in Meena’s hair. Though the occasional tug pulled on Meena’s scalp, the maid did her task gently and thoroughly.

“Did you come from Chendas with the Captain and his wife, or are you from Falqri?” Meena asked, trying to think of something they could talk about. While she was used to having help while getting dressed and ready, she was not used to doing so in silence.

“I’ve never set foot outside of Falqri,” Laila responded. Her words were crisp and quick. She kept her eyes firmly on her hands as she worked.

Meena bit her lower lip. This table had a small mirror, just like the one at home. It was tilted back so Meena could see her own face and that of Laila’s behind her. She was used to using the mirror to chat and connect with whomever was doing her hair. She preferred to dress herself when she did not have to wear something elaborate, but occasionally she would ask for help from one of the palace maids. Or occasionally her mother stepped in so they could have some time together in the morning, just the two of them.

Meena didn’t need to talk—and she wasn’t going to force someone else to speak with her—but it felt so uncomfortable to have a complete stranger working on her hair and touching her head.

Laila had switched to a wooden comb and was slowly running it down the length of Meena’s waist-long hair. The gentle pressure of the comb felt relaxing on her scalp. Although, when she wasn’t tugging at a knot, it felt so relaxing.

A knock sounded on the door, and this time the newcomer waited until Meena answered before entering the room.

“Come in!” Meena looked up, watching in the mirror as Sol entered the room. “Good morning!” She’d forgotten why they were upset at each other the night before. She was so relieved to see a familiar face that she welcomed him enthusiastically.

Sol stepped across the room, covering the small space quickly with long strides. He stopped at Meena’s side, standing close enough to touch her shoulder.

Meena looked up at him, moving her head slowly so as not to disturb Laila.

“I would love to discuss the day with you, Meena mine,” Sol said. He smiled widely and blinked twice.

Meena turned to look over her shoulder at the maid behind her. “I can take it from here, Laila. Thank you for your help this morning.” She smiled warmly, eager to make the other woman like her.

Laila dipped into a curtsy without making eye contact. “Yes, my lady,” she said. She turned toward the door, then stopped awkwardly for a moment, the hair comb still in her hand.

Sol, who was now standing directly in front of her—and very closely to her—held out his hand.

Laila gave the comb and quickly dropped into another curtsy before leaving the room.

As soon as the door closed, Sol turned back to Meena. “Our hosts are planning to take us on a tour of the city today.” He did not sound excited at the prospect.

Tired of twisting her neck, Meena settled back into the chair, using the mirror on the desk to make eye contact with Sol. “And?” she asked, unsure what he was upset by.

“I cannot waste valuable time exploring the local merchants. I need to observe the fort and see if I can learn information from the local soldiers.” Sol tapped the comb against his hand, positioning himself behind her so he could clearly see her face in the mirror as well.

“You need me to distract Jules and Ezra today so you can be free to explore on your own?” Meena clarified.

“Precisely.” Sol exhaled. He lifted the comb and ran it through her hair.

Shocked at the ease of his action, Meena froze. “I can do that,” she said. Her fingertips tingled. She thought it was probably due to the excitement of having a responsibility that would help in their mission.

Her scalp tingled as well, but that was just because the comb gently pulled on her hair.

Sol repositioned the comb, running it through the exact same strands he had just done. His face was deep in concentration.

Meena smiled as she watched him through the mirror. Sometimes she had no idea what he was thinking behind his mask of silence, but in that moment she was confident she knew exactly what he was thinking. He was strategizing his plan for gathering information today. And he clearly had no idea he was also brushing her hair.

His eyes were active, but not in a defensive and guarded way. Rather, they were focused and alert, intent upon his own thoughts. He looked younger, his face relaxed into his actual age instead of carrying the weight of the world.

Meena closed her eyes, blinking rapidly for a moment, but not ready to drop her gaze from his face. She inhaled, wishing for a moment that this was her real life instead of her fake one.

Sol looked up suddenly, catching her eye in the mirror. His eyes instantly tightened and the line of his mouth went rigid. He pulled the comb from her hair and nodded briefly at her as he set it on the table beside her.

“Thank you,” she whispered, sad that the moment had ended. Though, in the life of her dreams, the moment would be better if he chose to participate consciously rather than by accident.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

She nodded, standing from the chair. “Let’s get started. Best of luck in your search today.”

Sol led the way to the bedroom door, and Meena quickly braided her hair over her shoulder as she followed him out.

“Good morning, royal guests!” Jules’s voice echoed down the hall as though he had been waiting for them to leave their room.

Meena gasped in surprise, not expecting such a jubilant welcome so quickly. She felt slightly better to see Sol looked startled as well.

“Good morning, good captain!” Meena called, recovering quickly and stepping forward to meet their host.

Jules and Ezra swept down the hallway toward them.

Meena’s jaw dropped when she saw the elaborate clothing they were both wearing.

“What is the occasion?” she asked. “You both look so lovely.” She fingered her simple braid self-conciously. At least she had worn one of her better dresses.

Jules bowed graciously as he came to a stop in front of them. The decorative chain of his captain’s uniform clanked delicately as he straightened. “Does one need an occasion to impress the lovely princess in all the lands?”

Meena smiled at his charm, feeling both flattered and patronized.

“I hope you slept well?” Ezra dipped into a subtle curtsy, her stiffly tailored gown accentuating both her height and the long imposing line of her nose.

Suddenly, Meena realized that Laila must take after her mistress. Rather than feel intimidated, Meena immediately had the desire to break through the cold woman’s icy exterior. “It was amazing to sleep on a real bed again after so many days at sea,” she answered Ezra’s question. “Though I must say the world still feels like it is rolling under my feet.”

“You’ve become a true sailor, then, Princess,” Jules said. “That feeling will eventually go away.” He winked. “At least it should,” he added.

Meena laughed properly, feeling more like herself.

“Are you ready to see the finest sights in all of Falqri?” Jules asked.

“Yes!” Meena replied. “At least I am. I believe my husband has some plans of his own today.”

“Oh?” Jules asked, looking expectantly at Sol.

Sol nodded. “I am very interested in the architecture of the fortress,” he said. “I was planning to get a closer study of it.”

Jules stepped forward, offering Meena his arm as he stood between her and Sol. “I can show you the fort any other day, that is hardly pressing. Besides, how could you refuse to spend the day away from your beautiful wife?”

Meena, her hand gently holding Jules’s arm, shook her head. “If anything, we need a little space from each other. We did just spend five days with each other on a tiny ship.”

Jules looked at her in horror. “The two of you newly married and already tired of each other?” He looked to Ezra. “Can you imagine?”

Ezra shook her head. “That must be terribly sad.”

Meena thought she looked more judgmental than sad.

“No,” Jules put his other arm around Sol’s shoulders. “Today, we celebrate. I insist.” Jules stepped forward, literally pulling Meena on one arm and Sol with the other.

Meena grimaced at Sol behind Jules’s back, shrugging apologetically.

Sol did not seem to notice her silent communication. His lips were set in stone and his eyes brewed ominously.

Meena was exhaustedwhen they returned home that evening. “I didn’t know walking could make me so tired,” she hissed as soon as they were alone in their room for the night. “Although I suppose it was more than the walking. We did a large amount of talking, eating, looking, admiring, and laughing. Also, the sun was very hot today, and I feel like that makes me tired more quickly.”

Sol nodded. He remained by the door, silently testing the latch to ensure it was closed.

“My feet are in pain,” she continued. Without making it as far as the bed or a chair, she sank to the floor, immediately releasing her feet from the leather coverings. She stretched her toes. “That feels so much better.”

Sol still stood awkwardly by the door.

“Do your feet hurt?” she asked.

“Yes,” he responded. But he made no move to enter the room or remove his shoes.

as though he should not be there.

Noticing his discomfort, Meena stood, bouncing on her feet to alleviate the pain. “Sol, come in. We’ve spent enough nights in the same room. Be at ease.” She reached out, wishing she could grab his arm and pull him into the room.

“I am not uncomfortable,” he responded. “I’m thinking.”

“Sol,” Meena spoke again. “I’m sorry I couldn’t think of something fast enough to cover for you this morning.”

That seemed to catch his attention as he looked at her then. “He was very forceful about us both coming with them, wasn’t he?”

Meena nodded, not needing to ask who Sol was referring to. “He couldn’t know, right? Why are we here?” she barely whispered the last words.

“We will have to be extremely careful to give him no cause for suspicion,” Sol said. His eyes had wandered again, and a familiar wrinkle appeared between them as he tensed his forehead.

“Can you not be here, right now?” Meena asked, wishing she could take away some of the stress he carried. She instinctively stepped closer to him, wanting to reach out to him. To hug him. To be present with him.

Sol looked around the room, confused. “I am here,” he protested, pointing to the ground at his feet..

“You are here,” Meena said, keeping her voice light with jest. She poked his shoulder, feeling that it was the safest way to reach him physically. “But your mind is certainly somewhere else.” She tapped the side of his head.

“We did waste an entire day. Doing nothing,” Sol responded. His face still looked grumpy, but he did not lean away from her touch.

“It was not nothing. We learned the major layout of the city, and we observed the shape of the fortress walls and I saw the way you looked at the soldiers and noticed the rotation of the guards and the control of passage through the main gate.”

Sol sighed. “It’s so little.”

“I’m sorry I failed you this morning,” Meena repeated.

“You did not fail me,” Sol said, lifting his eyes back to her. “This is my burden to carry.”

“But who is going to carry the weight of you?”

“No one,” Sol replied. “I have no weight to carry, no ties binding me down.”

“I am here,” Meena spoke quietly. She had already offered her help, multiple times. She couldn’t force her way into a place he wanted to hide from her.

Meena’s eyesstared up at him in the dim candlelight. They were open and earnest and bright.

Sol swallowed. He wanted to lose himself in those beautiful brown eyes. She kept offering to help him, but the longing in her eyes seemed to offer something more.

Sol blinked, tearing his eyes away from hers. She was a Quotidian princess. He needed to run before he fell under her spell.

She had asked him a question.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he replied, retreating into himself.

“Is it always a burden to lay down ties?” she asked. She leaned backward, ever so slightly away from him, as though she could sense his reticence.

Sol turned away. He couldn’t make her sad. He hardly knew her, yet his heart broke at the sight of her disappointment.

He did not want to examine the question she was asking.

He desperately wanted a moment to set aside his burden, to forget the injustice of the world and just enjoy being with a person who made him laugh. Her. Enjoy being with her.

She was a distraction.

“I don’t have a choice,” he finally said, his voice intentionally rough. “I cannot set aside the pain of my people while they still live in it.” Sol closed his eyes, hoping she would end the discussion and let him be.

Thankfully, she was silent.

“I am going back out.” He walked into the room, throwing open the window on the far wall. The cool breeze of the evening air calmed his heated skin.

“Tonight?” she asked. “Again?” She followed him across the room.

He looked out into the darkness below. They were on an upper floor of the building, but the stone buttresses outside would be easy to navigate. “I cannot sleep until I have made progress.”

“Shall I come with you?” She ran back into the room, stooping down to pick up her shoes.

“No,” Sol responded. His chest loosened. Perhaps it was the selfless offer to go out once again on her aching feet, or perhaps it was the knowledge he would soon be alone and free to move about as he pleased in the darkness. “One of us needs to be well rested for tomorrow.”

The princess walked back to the window, stifling a yawn with the same hand that held her shoes. “I’ll leave the candle burning so you can see which room to come back to.”

Sol swung both legs over the window frame and started to lower his body down the other side. “Don’t bother,” he whispered. “It might alert someone it shouldn’t. I’ll find my way back to you.”

His body instantly felt overheated again. He slipped further, searching for a safe footing in the darkness before he let go of the window frame.

He needed to memorize this route so that he could navigate it easily with the princess by his side in the event they needed to rapidly escape.

The princess. Meena.

He wanted to feel guilt for walking away from her conversation, but she didn’t understand. She couldn’t understand. He wanted to talk her to, but he could not burden her with his worries. She had never experienced what it was like to live on Istroya. To lose someone you loved. To feel the betrayal of attachment.

Yes, they had proven to be helpful to each other thus far. And his mind was already including her in his constantly prepared escape routes. She was someone he would take care of. She was like his family now. But that did not mean he could love her.

He felt a solid stone ledge beneath his feet.

Just before he dropped his hands from the ledge, he thought he heard her whisper.

“You don’t have to carry it alone.”

It was likely just his imagination.