Chapter 122: A Step from the Sea

Book 3, Chapter 22 - A Step from the Sea

Eksa tugged against the iron collar around her neck. She thumbed the key hole, trying to stick her nail inside to undo the latch. Not only was the metal chunk hot, but heavy as well. It sat loose enough to rest on her collarbones, red lines pressed into them, skin at the base slick with sweat.

Her new master, Cassiopeia, lounged in a long seat of soft white cushions. She had an old slave with dark wrinkles and white curls standing over her, waving a feathered fan above her face as she flipped through parchment documents. Cass wore a green silk robe with sleeves large enough to fit ten arms through them. Her robe reached the base of her neck and was pinned shut by a milky white gemstone brooch.

“Are you done sweeping the floors, Eksa dear?” Cass asked without lifting her eyes from the papers in her hand.

Eksa glared. Done sweeping? Done Flaming sweeping? The sand palace was always dusty. She was never done sweeping. A month had swept away since she'd been purchased and not yet once did the arid desert winds blow an opportunity her way to display her talents. Her only free time was sleeping time.

From dawn till dusk, it was labor, labor, and more labor. Sweeping floors, running messages, carrying food. Mostly sweeping floors. And it was all made worse by the Scorching heat of these rain forsaken lands. “No, miss,” Eksa answered. It didn't even make sense for a city so close to sea to receive next to no precipitation. Some lasting influence of the desert god Shuari, or so the locals claimed.

She moved her tired arms back and forth, looking down at her feet. She wore a pair of worn leather sandals much like the other servants and slaves of the castle. The difference between slaves and servants, it seemed, was just the collars.

“Eksa, come here,” Cass ordered, still reading documents. She switched one page from the front to the back.

Eksa swallowed. She looked down at the red lines on her forearms, knowing exactly what was coming. She shuffled over, sand colored tunic pressed against her damp back. That was all they gave her to wear. No trousers or skirts. No small clothes. Just a half sleeved tunic reaching down to her knees. Not much different than during her time under Juuls and Rillin, but at least they gave her a clean tunic every morning and allowed her to bathe twice a cycle. She was the only palace worker dressed so poorly. She could only imagine that it was to humiliate her, to tame her abundant pride which she still clung to.

“Yes miss?” Eksa asked, stopping before the seat. Half of Cass' silk dress was sprawled on the floor. A waste of material to make robes so absurdly large.

The advisor picked up a thin stick laying at her side and whipped Eksa's arm. “Do not glare at me like that again.”

Eksa flinched, squeezing her eyes shut. Her lips parted of their own volition. “I wasn't glar—” the whip cracked on her forearms again, red lines like strands of her hair crisscrossing with the greenish blue of her veins. “I swear I—” and then again. Why can't I shut up? Why can't I ever shut up? The fanning slave gave Eksa a sympathetic look, raising a finger to her lip. I know, Eksa thought. All the lines on her hand were because of rebellious behavior. But then again, why should she obey? She was a proud Estraean.

Cassiopeia gestured to an empty silver cup on a small glass table next to her seat. “Go and bring me water from the wells of the palace's left wing,” she said, giving Eksa a sharp glare. “Take the long way round through the palm date orchard on your return trip. If I read his majesty's schedule correctly, he should be beneath the trees right now with some merchant. Likely sharing a drink or playing a game of Conqueror. Make sure you flash a most loving smile his way. Maybe twirl your hair as you pass by.”

“Yes miss,” Eksa said, bowing. Should I spit in the cup? It was odd. Cass frequently tortured her like this, telling her to take long passages on errands just for a run in with King Agram in order to smile at him.

“Oh and Eksa dear, I want the water to be near as cool as when you lift it from the well. Else I will make you run again.”

Eksa grit her teeth. Told to take the long way around but still expected to bring the water back cool. I should just piss in the cup. She set aside the broom, still shifting her collar to find a comfortable position in which it could rest, knowing that no such position existed. She picked up the cup and turned to leave.

“Ah, just a second, Eksa,” Cass called, motioning with her hand.

“What now?” Eksa thought.

“I beg your pardon?”

Eksa's mouth went dry as she realized she'd spoken aloud. She shuffled over, preparing for another round of lashings.

Cass merely glared at her. She turned to her other slave. “Alyae, brush the girl's hair and powder down her cheeks. Make her eyes stand out. That natural pale complexion of hers will make it seem as if she's blushing if she spends a half minute under the sun anyway.”

Alyae smoothed over Eksa's hair and bound it into a tail at the back. She was a woman of few words, usually only whispering when speaking. She pulled out a small jar of ointment and rubbed it over Eksa's red marked arms without Cass noticing, offering another sympathetic smile which Eksa returned. Alyae wasn't much of a friend. It was hard to call her that when she spoke so little. But a kind soul offered a tranquil warmth like that of a hearth during cold nights in Estraea. Though, Eksa wondered if such kindness would remain unconditional if circumstances were slightly different.

Eksa skipped along feeling a temporary relief to be away from Cass, her girlish ponytail bouncing with each step like the flickering ends of candles. She turned a corner and paused, glancing front and back. Guards in white bearing spears stood around, though they were a fair distance away from her. With a great big smile on her face, Eksa inhaled, happy, spat in the silver cup —dragging the spittle out from as deep in her throat— and continued skipping along.

She passed through the twisting halls of the palace, getting increasingly annoyed by the sand grains gathering in her sandals and poking the soles of her feet. The inner workings of the sand structure was like a maze but her sharp navigation sense had allowed her to memorize the paths within a half day.

She at last came upon a small sunlit courtyard, a square well sitting at its center with golden sand sparkling around. Its structure was white marble, rich light-blue waves of woad dye painted on its sides. The palace left wing well had the largest iron pail attached to it. But of course Cass would tell her to come here rather than use the right wing well which was closer to the king's orchards. This well was primarily used by palace guards and used to fill the troughs of King Agram's selectively bred camel and horse collection.

Eksa pretended to roll up sleeves she didn't have, imagining herself on a ship. She examined the knot on the pail's handle. A good knot, though not quite as sophisticated as a sailor's knot. She grasped the rope and lowered the pail into the abyss it hung over. A splash followed soon after as the pail sunk into the water below. And then she began pulling just as if she were tugging the ropes of sails in a heavy storm.

Heavy storm. Heavy Flaming pail . Eksa thought to use this as practice, but she could have sworn shoving a fat man was an easier task than lifting such a pail full of water. The sun bore down on her, causing her to sweat and drowning her strength within it. The iron around her neck grew hotter by the second. Eksa grit her teeth, putting her feet to the marble wall of the well while tugging with all her might, eyes squeezed shut.

A shadow enveloped her, relieving her from the sun. The rope was suddenly easier to pull. Fearing that it had torn, Eksa snapped her eyelids open. The dark arms of another loomed over her, hands just above hers pulling on the rope as well. She tilted her head back to see a guard with an open white vest and thick grey beard standing over her, her flaming ponytail touching his washboard like abdomen.

“Not good for a young girl to strain her back, mm?” the man boomed, his voice like the last vestiges of a thunderstorm.

Eksa's eyes wandered to his flexing arm. Such luscious and smooth curves . Much rounder and firm than her own. Curves like the muscled arms of her father's sailors. Like her father himself. Her hands slipped from the rope and she fell on her rear. Eksa shook her head, noticing the grey beard again. The guardsman was old enough to be her grandfather if anything. She recognized him as one of the men that'd accompanied her from the slave auction.

“Advisor Cass isn’t very kind, making you do work like this,” the man said, resting the pail before his feet, crystalline water sloshing out the sides and turning the golden sand a dark brown.

Eksa looked at her own reflection within, turning her eyes away instantly. I'm not blushing , she convinced herself. It's just the sun . “Thank you,” she mumbled. The guard smiled down at her, dipping her silver cup inside to fill it before holding it out to her. He didn't seem to have noticed her spittle resting at the cup's base, thankfully. Eksa smiled back, eyes flickering to the sun shining down on his dark muscles. She scrambled away, spilling droplets of water all the while. The cup was a tenth emptied by the time she re-entered the shade of the palace.

Eksa navigated her way through the palace again, giving terse nods to other servants she was acquainted with. The date palm orchards were at the palace's front, though their only entrances were either the main gates, or a gate at the right wing. And King Agram frequently hosted guests closer to the right wing door. There was no reason to spend longer moments under the sun by leaving via the main gate. Well, she would have to run through the orchards and re—enter via the main gates anyhow.

Eksa made her exit into the outside once again, doing her best to hurry along without further spilling water from the cup. Her pale complexion quickly turned pink under the sun, hiding the lash lines on her forearms. Eksa tried her best to tread beneath the palm date leaves though that wasn't always possible. Increasing amounts of hot sand got stuck beneath her sticky soles. Sweat rolled down the back of her neck and down the length of her spine.

The iron around her neck pressed down heavier. She feared it would leave permanent marks upon her collarbones like hot red branding iron seared into skin, forever harming her beauty. Would any boy kiss her there if they noticed such scars the same way her father often kissed her mother after returning home from a long voyage?

This isn't the Flaming time for such thoughts! Her idle dreams had slowed her feet. She looked ahead, spotting King Agram sitting down beneath the shade of long leaves, playing a game of Conqueror with a black haired merchant sporting a handlebar stache. Female servants in blue silk and veiled faces stood behind both men, fanning them with mechanical movements of the arm. Four guards stood on the perimeter of the date tree cluster, spears in their hands and closed white vests hanging from their broad shoulders.

Agram himself wore simple white robes, no crown upon his dark head and a thick black beard frosted with grey. Simple clothes, but dark regal eyes and muscles not lacking in comparison to his guards. His host wore a silver silk coat that was hard on the eyes with sunlight reflecting from it.

Eksa, as instructed, treaded by while wondering if her freckles could even be noticed with how hot she felt. Both the king and his host turned their heads at her. It was hard to miss an overgrown tomato after all. Her own thoughts doubled her embarrassment as she imagined her head to look like a round plump tomato. The only part she was probably missing was a green ribbon in her hair.

She flashed as sweet a smile as she could manage, thinking her sickly image made her look like a deranged old woman. The king, surprisingly, waved her over. Exactly what she didn't want. More time outside the cool walls of the palace. She scurried over, hoping to get the matter over with quickly, greedily eyeing a jug of ice upon the table between Agram and the merchant. Maybe Estraea's cold isn't so bad …

One of the guards held out his spear to block Eksa's path. He looked her up and down before pulling the weapon away. She scowled at him. And where in Flames would I hide a weapon in this one piece jerkin? The guard seemed to wholly ignore her scowl, but it didn't miss the king's gaze. Her breath caught in her throat as she was reminded that she needed to smile. “Yes, Your Majesty?” Eksa mumbled, staring at her feet.

Agram turned away, looking back down on the board game he and his host were playing. It looked little different to chess. Conqueror was probably the name used here. “Spare my guards the glare, child,” Agram said, his voice deep and smooth.

An intoxicating voice that Eksa could fall asleep to. A voice akin to Mikael von Raudsol's. When last was it someone had read her a bed time story? Irrelevant. No one would read her a story again.

“They only do their job,” he continued.

“Yes, they'd stop a babe too I imagine,” Eksa thought. The king's lips twitched in amusement. Flames! Tell me I didn't say that out loud . “Forgive me, your Majesty,” she then said, apologizing for her earlier glare and hoping those thoughts had just been thoughts. She noticed the merchant's leery gaze upon her still. He made his own move on the board without pulling his eyes away from her, to which the king smiled. Eksa looked down at the board. A very stupid move .

“I am not reprimanding you, Eksa,” Agram said. She blinked. The king remembered a mere slave's name? “I'm sure my advisor does enough of that already.” He moved another piece on the board. “Ah, I believe that's game, Rozan!”

“Bah. Shame,” the thick stached man said. “It seems you've bested me again. Well, regarding my request…”

“I will look into the matter,” the king assured.

Rozan nodded. He rose from his seat, eyes passing over Eksa. He licked his lips. “Quite a unique one you have here, my king. You don't suppose I could ask for her buying price could you?”

“Four crowns,” Eksa blurted. “Gold.” She lifted her nose to the air and puffed out her chest, wearing glittering imaginary platemail crafted entirely of pride.

The merchant frowned, glancing at the king. “She is not mine,” Agram answered. “If you wish to purchase her, then you'd have to speak to my advisor. Though, Cassiopeia has a tight schedule. And tighter lips dare I say.”

Rozan nodded, licking his lips again. He looked Eksa up and down, regarding her breasts for a long two seconds. And then her face. “Four crowns,” he muttered, as if actually considering it before walking away.

Eksa stood for a long moment, wondering for what reason she'd been called over, beads of sweat still running down her back every once in a while. At least she stood under the shadow of date palms. The king plopped an ice cube into a cup of violet liquid, taking a sip shortly after. Eksa stared at the jug full of ice, wishing she could rub her face against the condensation of its surface if only for a second. She began tapping her foot. Will you hurry up and—

“Eksa, please sit,” Agram said. It wasn't a request but a command.

Sit at the same table as the king? She did as she was told, swallowing, wondering if she'd done anything to offend. The servant woman behind her chair continued to fan her, blowing hot desert air her way. Only, it wasn't entirely displeasing because of how wet the back of her neck already was. She looked down at the game board, frowning at its awful state. Three pieces to ten?

“Cass really had you running around the garden just to smile at me, hmm? And I'll wager she'll want the cup of water to still be cool by the time you return.”

“Yes, and I'll have to make a return trip to the well now because I'm being kept here for no apparent reason,” she thought. The fanning servant behind Agram twitched. Eksa clenched her teeth, eyes watering. Can I just keep my mouth shut?

The king merely smiled, resetting the board of Conqueror. “Care for a game?” he asked.

She shook her head, feeling embarrassed and growing ever hotter by the second. She wanted to run away and hide her face, the collar around her neck feeling like a leash keeping her bound to the seat. She couldn't move an inch without the king's command. Her armor of pride fell away, stripping her of any confidence as well. “I don’t know how to play,” she lied, her gaze fixed on her own reflection within the silver cup's warming water.

“No? That wasn't you smirking when the merchant made a silly mistake whilst staring at you? Ah, it must be the heat bothering you then. Forgive me. This aging brain of mine just doesn't think as quick as it used to. The sun isn't very kind to those of you from the far north is it?”

Eksa shuffled in her seat. The king was apologizing to her? She found the confidence to look his way, realizing just how small she was compared to him. Yet, he didn't seem unpleasant. Not in the slightest. His face was a kind one, tired lines on his forehead and a beard that carried years of wisdom. He was completely shaved on top, smooth dark skin seeming like a polished jewel.

“Um…” Eksa began. Um? Flaming um? Something about him made her feel sheltered and stole her words away. Something that made her want to sit still and listen to him speak while she closed her eyes. Memories of lying in a bed with her father sitting at the side reading her a book came back to her.

Agram sighed, leaning back in his seat. “It's hard to distinguish between droplets of crystal water and grains of sand from so high up. Especially when they're so close to each other. Everything seems like a muddy mixture. Merchant Rozan is a slave dealer. One that primarily deals in women. Hardly operates in Eurale due to my strict laws on slave treatment. And yet he came complaining to me about black markets dealing in the Shase drug. It's harmed his business as many working in society's underside have become addicted. Now, tell me Eksa, is it right for me to just leave them be? Perhaps a mind numbing narcotic is just what these enslaved women need to keep them from emotional misery. Or should I actively do something so that they retain their free will and a sense of self?”

Eksa blinked, not sure of what to say.

“No? No answer? Hmm. I'd have thought Cass would be raising you to be a political official. I guess she's raising you for that other reason. Well, you see how hard a king's job is? Always treading through a muddy swamp. It's never about the good and the bad. Rather, it's about the bad and the worse. I can't get rid of slavery. It's been ingrained in Eurale's society since long before me. But it's traders like Rozan who are known to mistreat their slaves outside of Eurale's borders that really make me wish I could end this system.” Agram sipped from his cup of wine again. “Well, Cass isn't treating you very well now is she?” he asked, glancing at her forearms. The lash lines on them were barely visible, but he saw them.

Eksa shook her head in response.

The king sighed again. “How old are you?”

“Sixteen,” she lied. Cassiopeia had demanded that she pass herself as a sixteen year old. Eksa wasn't sure why.

“She has you lying too, mm? You're thirteen aren't you? Maybe fourteen at best.”

Eksa's eyes flitted this way and that. She got caught lying to the king. “I, ah… um…” She'd recently turned fourteen.

Agram rose from his seat. He plopped an ice cube into the silver cup in her hands. “Go now. Cass may be upset if you dally any longer. That ice cube will keep the water cool for only so long.” He rested his thick hand on her head and rustled her hair.

Eksa blushed, feeling several years younger, remembering her father's hand on her head much the same way. She glanced up, having to look really far up to meet his kind dark eyes. Agram looked nothing like her father, yet reminded her of him so much. She jumped out of her chair and scrambled off, fearing she would cry if she remained any longer. Her vision blurred as her eyes watered again. She stumbled through the sands and re-entered the palace.

Eksa wiped her eyes while making her way through the many corridors. The weight in her chest was heavier than any around her neck. Her feet slowed as it just occurred to her as to what a golden opportunity she'd just let go. All because of some stupid sentimental emotions about a past that would never return. She'd been right there, in the presence of the king. He'd offered her a game. She could've accepted. Could have displayed her intellect and slipped in mentions of her sailing and charting talents. But—

“Where's that fool girl?” Eksa heard Cass say from outside the advisor's room. She was pacing back and forth whilst chewing on her thumbnail. Her other slave was nowhere to be seen. Instead, there was a man in white robes with gold embroidery of trillium flowers.

“Trillia's skirt,” Cass continued. “She'd better not have collapsed under the sun. After all the trouble I went through. This has to work now. The king has no wives or successors. And he's growing old. I've tried everything. Pale skin, dark skin, blonde hair, dark hair. I've brought in all manner of women but all of them failed to succeed in catching King Agram's eye. I just can't get a read on what his tastes are. If he doesn't take a redhead in as a concubine—”

Me as a concubine? Of a man who sounds like my da? That's what Cass was planning all along? Eksa couldn't let that happen. She needed a way out. A way to sail the seas. Eurale's navy was the only option. She needed to show the king her talents and fast. A month chained to Cass' hands with little opportunity to prove herself. But now, with perhaps just one more conversation with the king, those long imprisoned dreams might embrace the sea breeze yet. Agram was kind. He would understand. Right?

“The Lord Sun demands it, Judge Cassiopeia.” the robed man finished saying. Eksa hadn't been paying attention to what he'd said just before it.

“I know what his Brilliance demands. I'd just prefer doing it without any bloodshe— ah, you're back at last,” Cass said as Eksa entered the room. The robed man glanced at her before bowing and exiting without another word. “Did you smile at the king like I commanded?” Eksa nodded, handing Cass the silver cup. The advisor took a sip. “Still cool too. Well done.”

Eksa nodded again, stifling a smile. You just drank my spit! If only there was a way to let her know and not get in trouble for it.

Cass' jaw suddenly dropped as her gaze moved to the doorway. She set the cup down and gathered her silks, lowering her head. “Your Majesty.”

Eksa turned to see Agram standing in the doorway two guards behind him. He smiled at her. “Cassiopeia, you don't mind if I take Eksa here under my wing, do you?” Agram asked. “As my personal attendant. She's quite interesting, I must say.”

The advisor's eyes glowed. She beamed and nodded on repeat, clearly revelling on the taste of success. “Of course not, your Majesty. You can take her if you wish.”

Eksa felt a stone settle at the base of her throat. Her respect for the king dropped to the pits of a well. He's not actually interested in me right? He knows I'm fourteen. She was being freed of another harsh master but not freed entirely. The old king was actually taking her in to be his concubine. Agram's massive hands shadowed over her face. He rested it on her head and patted it again just like he had before.

“How kind of you Cass. Isn't Eksa just wonderful? It's like having a daughter!”

Eksa froze. Tears slipped down her cheeks but for all the wrong reasons than what she'd originally thought of.

“Er, as a daughter…?” asked the advisor.

“Indeed. A bit shy, but sharp with her words when needed. Well, I'll be getting along then. Come Eksa, I've some work I could use your help with.”

She followed after him, blinking hard to avoid actually crying. This was it. She had her opportunity. She just had to display her talents now. But he called me his daughter . She shook her head. It didn’t matter. Agram wasn't her father. He was just a kind old king. If she let herself get tied up here because of sentimental attachments to her past, her dreams would go unfulfilled and she would forever regret it. She inhaled deep, puffing out her chest, at last seeing a path to freedom.

Agram turned a corner, glancing back as if checking to see that Eksa was still there. “Er, Your Majesty,” she began.

He paused for her. “All muddy water. But this decision was an easy one. Go on, child. What do you wish to ask?”

She bit her lip. Confidence swelled inside her racing heart, as if the bellows of a forge had re-forged that armor of pride from earlier. A sinister thought occurred to her and she had to struggle to stop from giggling right then and there. “Could I bid Advisor Cass farewell?”

The king frowned. “That's very kind of you. It isn't as if you won't see her again. But if you insist, then I will wait for you here.”

Eksa nodded and turned back. Very kind. Oh yes! She ran back to Cassiopeia's room. The advisor was sitting on her seat, rubbing her temples with one hand while sipping from the silver cup in the other. She raised an eyebrow upon seeing Eksa in the doorway. “Oh, by the way,” the Estraean girl began, “I spat in your cup!” She tugged down on her eye with a middle finger and stuck her tongue out. Then, she turned and ran away, revelling in the sound of Cassiopeia spitting out her drink.