“Is it not early for this,” Aida asked in a tone that approached something normal, much to her surprise.
“You’ll eat now so you might dine with the Imperial Majesty this evening.” Immari paid her not a single ounce of attention, bustling around the table as if her incessant buzzing would make Aida hurry.
“They take their dinner much later than I do. Why on earth must I eat so—”
“You will need time to prepare, Aida.” With a flip of her wrists, Immari unlocked the large wooden case that arrived with Aida’s tray. Her dark lashes flew wide, lips drifting to gape before she lifted something from the case with reverent fingers. “His Imperial Majesty sent this for you to wear.”
A snap of her hands unfolded the gown. Bedecked with lace and shimmering jewels, layers upon layers of iridescent silk in shades of deepest crimson and rich purple billowed and flowed. A river of heart blood and magic bursting into the sunlight as if it would drive every fragment of brightness from the room.
“There’s a new hairnet and jewelry to match, Aida! Oh, it’s all so very fine,” Immari said in breathless wonder, turning the gown this way and that for it to steal the sun’s warmth and light.
“Why?”
“Why what, Aida?”
“He never gives me things like that. Why now?”
“Don’t be a fool.” Immari huffed a hard breath through her nose, eyebrows slamming to a hard line as she slid a murky glance at Aida. “Hurry and eat or you’ll go without. There’s much to do before dusk.”
Exhaling in a hard rush, Aida picked up the heavy silver and picked at the meal. She didn’t taste the crispy skin or the decadent sauce, chewing with mechanical determination while Immari flitted about the room. Sinking deeper into the murky void of her thoughts, her movements slowed until she set the fork and knife down to stare at the mangled remains scattered across the fragile plate. Too close to where her thoughts traversed, it felt ominous, a harbinger of what would happen to her.
“By the Abyss, Aida! Can you do nothing as I tell you to? Up with you, we might as well begin if you will do nothing but brood.”
Chair dragged away from the table, Aida had no choice but to rise and follow Immari through the suite to the adjoining bathing room. Once the door shut hard, just shy of slamming, Aida stood before the expansive tub. Suffering in silence as Immari peeled away the simple faded blue gown with cruel hands, Aida stared without seeing at the rippling waters strewn with lily petals. It was an inordinate luxury, her bathing chamber. Flickering candles in the windowless room wafted pungent flowery scents into the steamy air, the water warmed by a bank of coals glowing red hot at all hours by some trick of Otaso’s power.
Unless he became displeased with her. Then he made her bathe in the icy water trickling through the network of pipes.
As the light shift came off over her head, Aida kneeled beside the fragranced water for Immari to pin her thick curls atop her head, skimming her fingers through a slick of rose oil pooling on the water’s surface. Nose twitching against a sneeze at the potent scent, she longed for the earthy aromas from outdoors. Sunshine, warm and heady. Fresh tilled earth, rich and dark. The dusty boldness of sage.
“In with you now.”
Immari gave her just enough time to step into the extravagant tub before pushing her to sit. Plunged into the scalding water, Aida sucked a hard breath through her nose and let it out in a ragged exhale as Immari scrubbed at her with the rough pumice stone. To make her skin as smooth as a newborn babe’s, fresh and pink. A daily ritual that left her sore and aching, but it pleased her guardian. He liked the thick perfumes sinking into her skin even now. All of it was for Otaso’s pleasure, from the scents Immari perfumed her with, to the way she wore her hair. She’d never known a day where he did not determine her dress before Immari came to wake her, whether or not he was to see her that day.
Leg yanked from the water, Aida peered at Immari through lowered lashes as her maid scoured her flesh. Tried not to blame the woman who had taken care of her since she’d arrived at this castle, a screaming infant swaddled in blood. Aida heard the stories all the time from her sole companions, of how the once austere mage and Imperial Emperor of all Aeslomor softened to the weeping babe left at his door. Raised within the soot black walls of stone amid saffron yellow fields of dust and the black shadow of the mountain range, held high above the chaos and dangers of the world, Aida grew from toddling infant to young girl without ever seeing a face other than Immari and Otaso’s. It was when she grew older, her fourteenth summer, that things changed and all for the worse.
The first time she snuck from her room in the dead of night, she’d stumbled upon Otaso’s study. His place of power, where he worked all of his incantations and spells. Drifting through the space on silent feet, long white gown ghostly in the darkness,
