[2016] The Bride Trials Read online

  “Okay.” She looked at him like she thought he was a lunatic. She didn’t change her mind. “Please excuse us. If you have need of anything, please let the staff know.” Ditran took her hand in his, intending to place a kiss on the back of it before leaving. She turned her wrist and shook his hand instead. Her hand was rough and dry, reminding Ditran of the days he had spent too many hours training with earth. Void of moisture. But there was something else. She quickly pulled her hand from his and

  folded her arms.

  She nodded, and Ditran left with Ashby. None of the women he met had hands like hers. The others hands were usually smooth to the point of being slippery. He looked at his own hands, and that’s when he noticed the red. Just a little smear of blood, but it wasn’t his.

  The walk to the dinner hall was short, and disappointment filled him when he entered. Three women stood by the head table filled with food, and they looked just like the women from every other city he had visited, their smiles a mask for their intentions and expectations. As he gazed around the room, he noticed similar expressions from the thirty or forty people standing by the other tables.

  The first woman in green was round like the rolls in front of her. The second in blue was thin, and her brown hair was arranged in a way not unlike the green vegetable on the table. The third was the same as the first, only her dress was some orange colored fabric that appeared to be stretched to the limits. He wasn’t sure if she’d be able to sit in it without it ripping.

  “Heir Ditran. May I present Lady Lelilia, Lady Tashka, and Lady Celilia. They are my sister’s children, and the only elemental Ladies of qualifying age in Cryssal. Lelilia is a healer, Tashka a shard, and Celilia is our little spit fire. My sister is a bit under the weather today or she and her husband

  would be here to greet you also.”

  Celilia, fire. That explains the orange dress. They curtsied, and Ditran nodded back at them.

  “It’s a pleasure, Ladies.” Ditran turned and addressed the entire room. “I apologize for my tardiness. Please sit so that we can eat.”

  Everyone in the room sat in their chairs as soon as Ditran did. The table was arranged so that Ditran and Ashby sat on one long side, while the three ladies were on the side across from them.

  Ashby motioned for the servants to circle the room. They made sure the glasses stayed filled. When a guest pointed at a food, the servant would then plate the food for the guest.

  Ditran watched as glass after glass of wine was drained by the three women. Ditran refused the drink. It was best if he kept his mind clear when in the presence of politicians. That, and the fact that the taste of fermented fruit wasn’t enticing.

  “Just give it here.” Lady Tashka grabbed the bottle from the server instead of waiting for him to pour it.

  The servant backed away and left to get another bottle to refill the rest of the glasses at their table. Tashka’s behavior would never do in front of Sonovo, especially if that bottle was meant to refill the King’s cup.

  With each passing drink, words and giggles escaped Celilia’s lips. She kept asking the server where her purse was, even though Viscount Ashby already assured her it was checked with her shawl at the door.

  “Heir Ditran, tell us why were you late?” Lady Celilia said. Ashby answered for him. “There was a young woman who broke the code. Terrible business, code breaking.”

  “Are you sending her to the factory?” Lady Lelilia took another swallow of wine. The drink didn’t seem to affect her, and her eyes had a blank almost dead look to them.

  “It was all a misunderstanding,” Ditran said. “Of course it was,” Lady Tashka said. “She probably only wanted to flutter her eyelashes at you.”

  Tashka flapped her lashes, and Ditran forced a polite chuckle. While he hadn’t spent much time with Keyla, he didn’t think she’d flutter her eyelashes at anyone. But if she did, it wouldn’t be a ploy.

  Encouraged by his laugh, Lady Tashka continued. “She probably wants your money just like the rest of us.” Lady Tashka took a long drink from the bottle.

  Ditran saw Drake enter the room. He half turned in his seat, and Lady Celilia chose that moment to grab his hand from across the table. Her hand was smooth, to the point of almost being slippery. She’d clearly never worked for anything using her hands.

  “Stay with us. We only want to show you how good we are with magic.” Celilia let go of his sleeve long enough to snap her fingers and form a small flame on one finger.

  She tried to wiggle her fingers at him. He supposed she was trying to be seductive, but the flame jumped from one finger to the next before catching his suit coat. The fine fabric caught fire.

  Tashka took her bottle and dumped it on him. The alcohol caused the flames to grow bigger. A servant rushed over with a wine bucket and dumped it on Ditran. Ice and water drenched his arm and torso, leaving Ditran with a singed arm and a cold wet suit.

  “I think I’m done here. Viscount Ashby, please see these women home. I hope your sister feels better soon.” Ditran stood and left the room.

  He didn’t call them ladies, and he didn’t tell them goodbye. After their display, he found them all appalling. He stood and motioned for Drake to follow him out of the room.

  “That was a disaster.” Ditran said once the door closed behind him.

  eyla paced in the tiny room she’d been confined to. The night had passed without incident, but she hadn’t slept well, afraid that at any moment guards would storm the room and execute her for being a rebel.

  The door opened, and who entered was almost worse. Lord and Lady Plume. Servants set up four chairs, and the Plumes took two, leaving Keyla two to pick from close to the wall. Who else is coming? She’d barely sat when Lady Plume started speaking.

  “You have shamed us too much. First your disgusting displays of ill manners, and now you broke the code and entered the restricted area,” Lady Plume said. “Viscount Ashby was most distressed when he told us after the dinner last night. Thank goodness Dovesti was too distracted by his nieces to realize you were our charge. He’d have removed our title for sure.”

  Lord Plume nodded at his wife. He lifted up his cane to strike Keyla. Keyla flinched away, and the chair tumbled backwards. Keyla kicked out with her legs to try to stop the tumble, but it didn’t help. Her head hit the wall. Dazed, she flopped to the floor. The second chair fell on her legs.

  Lord Plume stood over her. With nowhere to go, Keyla raised her arms to protect her face. Lord Plume swung his arm, and the cane hit her ribs. Pain seared its way through her middle. She curled up into a ball as well as she could. Blow after blow landed across her back and ribs.

  She closed her eyes and tried to think of something to protect herself. A familiar cold seeped into her skin, soothing the sting away. Keyla heard a loud crack but didn’t feel the accompanying strike. She uncurled just enough to look up. A bubble of ice surrounded her.

  Lord Plume stood, face red with his cane frozen mid strike in the ice. Lady Plume sat in her chair as if she were waiting for afternoon tea to be served.

  “What is going on here?” Heir Ditran said. He stood in the doorway, a hand outstretched toward her. He walked in front of Keyla and touched the ice, pulling the cold magic into himself, pulling just enough so that only Lord Plume’s cane stayed frozen, but Keyla was free to move. She kicked off the chair covering her legs and scurried away from the Plumes.

  “We denounce our care of her. Heir Ditran we suggest sending her to the factory,” Lady Plume said.

  “What’s this factory everyone speaks of?” Ditran said. “The one at the edge of town. It’s where all the troublemakers go. They either work off their debt or they enter the afterlife for Dovesti to judge and the great Dra’s to enforce.” Lord Plume said.

  Ditran leaned forward. “From what I understand, Miss Stinton–”

  “Isn’t worth half as much as the clothes she wears.” Lady Plume cut him off. “I was raised to believe that every woman deserves to be treated like a Lady, al
though after recent events I’m rethinking it.” Ditran looked pointedly at Lady Plume. “Now, as I was saying. From what I understand Miss Stinton was invited to the dinner last night.”

  “She was disrespectful of me and my wife,” Lord Plume said.

  “And you beat her.” Ditran responded. “She burned off part of my hair.” Lady Plume pulled off her hat and showed where the missing hair should have been.

  Ditran looked at Keyla and raised an eyebrow before turning back to the Plumes. “I see, and because of this, you denounce your care of her?”

  “Yes. Send her to the factory!” Lord Plume said. “Then I relieve you of your duty I’ll take responsibility for her care. And clearly, as it is too much of a strain, I’ll relieve you both of your title as well.”

  “This is an outrage!” Lady Plume began fanning herself with her hat. “We worked hard for our title.”

  “Anyone who treats another the way you have does not deserve a stewardship. In fact, as you have treated Miss Stinton so poorly, she can have your title. It won’t make up for the harm you have caused, but at least it is a start. Titled nobility are meant to set an example. And if you press further, you will be made an example. Maybe you should be sent to the factory.”

  Lady Plume’s mouth hung open, and Lord Plume grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the door. They quickly departed.

  Ditran turned back to Keyla. “I’m sorry you’ve been treated so poorly.”

  “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I did. As Heir, I’m to do everything I can to protect those in need of it.” “I’m not a helpless damsel.” Keyla shifted so she was sitting up against the wall and bit back the exclamation of pain as she did so.

  “No, you aren’t. But I want to be a hero. Can I heal your injuries?” He crouched down in front of her and looked into her eyes.

  Keyla shut her eyes and breathed through the pain. “It’s not that bad.”

  “Please.”

  She shifted, and her ribs felt like they were being ripped apart. She nodded. Ditran reached out a hand to her cheek, his hand close enough that she could feel the heat from his skin, but not close enough to actually touch. A tingling started at the surface of her skin, and warmed before spreading along the cheekbone. This was so different from what it felt like when Suzenita healed her. Not quite the touch of a mother like Suzenita, but not the sterile touch of a healer. As the tingling spread down and out along her jawline, Keyla let out a cry.

  Blinding pain radiated below her jawbone, spreading across the side of her neck, and up behind her ear. Burning. It was like being sliced with a hot knife. The pain Lord Plume inflicted with his cane was a warm summer breeze in comparison to what she felt now.

  Ditran’s gaze seemed far away for a moment. He blinked, and a look of shock came over him. “What is it? What happened?”

  Keyla shook her head and with one hand cradled the spot. “What did you do to me?” She tried to move away from him, but her body lacked the energy.

  “Let me look.” Ditran pulled her hand away and carefully moved her hair. “It looks like a scar. One long line from your neck to your ear.”

  Drake entered the room. “Sire. Is everything alright?” “Have you ever seen something like this?” Ditran still held her head, and Drake came closer to look.

  Drake frowned slightly. “I have an idea, but I’ll need to make a call to be certain. It looks like a sign of old magic.”

  “Do it.” Ditran nodded, and Drake left the room. Ditran picked her up.

  “Put me down.” Keyla tried to pull herself out of his arms, but the beating, and whatever it was that happened when Ditran tried healing her, took most of her strength. He set her down gently on the cot.

  “Rest.”

  He moved to leave, but Keyla grabbed his hand. “Thanks.” He picked up one of the chairs and took off his jacket. He hung it over the back of the chair before sitting. “I’ll just stay for a minute to make sure you are alright. What do you want to talk about?”

  The magazine articles. “How about the dances at the Palace.” “You mean the parties every weekend? No. Those are my Uncle’s way of keeping the nobility happy.”

  “And the food, women, and dancing are terrible, I’m sure, which is why you have a new girlfriend every week.”

  “I spend only enough time there to get my photo taken. Those women care too much about themselves to notice when I leave.”

  “Where do you go?”

  “I go to the air dragon’s kuil and watch the stars from above the clouds.”

  As they continued to talk, the conversation flowing from one topic to the next. Her favorite color was still red because it reminded her of the candles on a birthday cake. She’d accidently mixed up spices in the cake, but her caretaker had called it spicy cake and ate it anyway.

  He spoke of the time he placed flour in his father’s hat, then the puppy Ditran had when he was thirteen.

  “What happened to him? Keyla asked. “My Dog? I wasn’t watching him close enough. He ran into the training room and was struck by a shard.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “It’s my fault.”

  “And what about the door to the training room? Who left that opened? Or the person who threw the ice?”

  “Uncle didn’t mean to, it was an accident.” “Then why do you blame yourself?”

  Ditran paused. “He was my dog, my responsibility. It’s an Heir’s duty, my duty, to protect anything in my care, just as Dovesti would.”

  “Do you really believe in Dovesti, the god who will greet us in the afterlife?”

  “It’s difficult to deny his existence when I can do things so many others can’t.”

  “I never thought of it like that.” Keyla wasn’t sure how long they talked, but eventually the pain from Lord Plume’s cane was too much.

  “Heal me.”

  “But what happened before…”

  “Not my face, just my ribs. Please, just try.”

  Ditran moved his chair closer to her and paused. He placed his hands above her ribs, just like Suzenita had when Keyla fell from the tree. The cooling tingle spread across her middle, and the pain eased away. There was no sign of whatever occurred before, and emboldened by the success, Ditran healed the rest of the injuries as well.

  When he finished, they were both exhausted. “Get some sleep.” Ditran stood up and put his jacket back on.

  “Thank you.” Ditran walked out the door, and Keyla felt sleep pull her into its dark embrace, only this time there was a tiny spark of light there to greet her.

  itran left Keyla and went back to the office he’d used the night before. In the daylight, it was easy to see that the walls to the outside were clearly made of crystal. Long cracks splintered across the ceiling, diffusing the sunlight without blocking the view.

  What just happened? As he had used his powers to search for injuries to heal, he had found himself sucked into the memory behind the bruise on her face. Not a complete coherent memory, but disjointed flashes. This has never happened before.

  Lady Plume using her barbed tongue to insult someone important to Keyla. And He’d felt a sense of satisfaction when the iron burned through the hair. Then the hand struck. He’d felt the sting just as Keyla had cried out.

  Had he somehow inflicted more harm while lost in the scene? But then where would the scar have come from? Everything he knew of memorysharing was that his mother was the last to have the ability. It died with her.

  Ditran reached for his phone and called King Sonovo.

  “Ditran.”

  “Uncle, what do you know about the memory share?” “It’s a very rare ability that comes with the mind heal. Your mother’s family was the last to have it, and the secret to the process died with your mother. When she was selected it was hoped that the trait would pass to you.”

  “It might have.”

  “Tell me everything.”

  Ditran sat down and set the phone on the black circle. Immediately the sc
reen projected an image of Sonovo out of the phone. It was as close as they could come to a face-to-face chat at the moment.

  Ditran started talking. “I was healing a lady, and I think I saw the memory of the injury.” “It’s only supposed to occur with incredibly powerful elementals. This girl, what powers does she have?”

  “None. There’s no record saying she has them. Drake is running more blood work.”

  “What exactly happened?” Ditran explained how he met Keyla as well as his attempt to heal the bruise. When he got to the part about the scar appearing, Sonovo laughed.

  “What an elaborate and creative ploy.” “Uncle?”

  “Old histories of the world describe a war. The one side, without powers, tried to kill the purists, the original people able to control all the powers. When they went into hiding, the only way they could identify each other was the use of a symbol. It got to the point that to protect the younger children from accidently manifesting their powers in front of the enemy they would use a ritual to bind their powers. The only way to unbind or detect them was to use a piece of Dovesti’s stone.” Sonovo paused, “Tell me Ditran, were you wearing your watch when you healed her?”

  “You know I always have it with me.” Ditran pulled the pocket watch from the pocket of his jacket, the base behind the dials shimmered and changed colors.

  “The only way to unbind the magic is to use Dovesti’s stone. Your watch has a fragment. Using your powers in such close proximity to her and the stone must have caused a manifestation.”

  “She’ll have powers now?”

  “Hardly. It would take a lot more than the sliver in your watch. I sent a larger piece with Drake as a precaution. It should be sufficient.”

  “How do I use it?” “Blood. A drop of her blood on the stone will start the process as long as she holds it. The stone will force her powers to manifest, but if she truly doesn’t have any, it could have devastating side effects.”

  “Like what?”

  “That’s up to the power of Dovesti in the stone.” Ditran contemplated the information and the scene of the Plumes beating Keyla when he walked in. “Uncle, have you ever heard of the Cryssal Factory?”