Chapter 1
Her voice was quiet, with a song-like lilt to it. The neckline scratched against me as my mother held my arm firmly, guiding me down the long passageway. I hated the way she said my name, always dragging out the ‘a’ at the end. I fidgeted again, bringing my hand up to scratch at the irritating frill around my neck. My mother swiftly swatted my hand down and gave me a stern look before carrying on with her lecture. She had been going on about this for the last week.
Make sure to wear the dress laid out, don’t slouch, keep your voice soft and airy when someone addresses you. The list went on and on. I felt jealous of Dahlia, she didn’t have to attend this silly feast my father insisted we host. Everyone in the Arctorian family would be present but her. The Del Dynasty were sneaky in their attempts to offer her a term of education so she could understand how the district operated. But, I knew it was a ploy to introduce her to their son. I had never met him before but he would one day be the head of the agricultural district and the Dels were set on having an Arctorian as his betrothed.
I, however, had no interest in marriage. As the youngest and final child to be born to Harold and Aenor Arctorian, there was very little pressure placed on me for marriage alliances. One day, the throne would be passed from my father to Magnus, the eldest. He had it relatively easy when it came to marriage alliances, he had his pick of any female willing to take on the duties of queen. Of course, she had to be of exceptional breeding and he could only take a pure bred human as a wife. that was expected of all of us, the grounding rule for all eight families in the Southern Kingdom was to only take a spouse of exceptional breeding.
“Now there will be others here, they have filthy habits and can be quite barbaric,” my mother continued with a scowl on her face, her lip twisting up. Her emphasis on ‘others’ was quite clear. Mother hated having to socialise with any other species.
“Mother,” I groaned, for a queen, she sure did have some unsavoury opinions.
“We have to be in tip top shape for everyone. Your father was quite pedantic about how tonight must go.” She plastered a smile on her face. She gripped my arm tightly, came to a stop before the marbled staircase, closed her eyes and took a breath. In that moment, she was not a queen, she was not a mother, she was simply a scared human. One who was designed to fear any species besides our own. The flittering fear on her face was as clear as the evening sky. As her eyes opened, I saw my mother again, Queen Aenor of Ardalia. Her features softened, her lips took their place, permanently seated in a slight smile. What looked to be a soft, warm woman was all just a mask for our audience tonight. None of them, myself included, knew what lay behind her gentle gaze and delicate touches.
My mother would always be a mystery.
Our heels tapped against the staircase, our stances the epitome of grace and elegance. My fitted dress was horrid to move in. The long sleeves and tight bodice making it difficult to take a breath of air. Sweat began to bead at the back of my neck, making the frilled collar unbearable against my damp skin. We took our final step out into the entrance of the palace. My thighs chafing together as the humid air wafted through the open doors.
It was easy to see the humans, each donned white, silver and grey garments as the usual custom of our species. We were the last remaining pure bred humans, and as such, we considered our DNA to be pure. It was a homage to our great ancestors who walked in abundance on our planet, that everything we created was in our image. It was said that long ago, before different species came to be, humans varied in colour, their skin, eyes and even their hair would be different colours! Their cities were colourful and they could marry whoever they pleased. It still baffled me how we ended up as we are. I found our grey and silvery hair to be dull, our skin so fair, we had to bathe in special oils to keep from burning in the sun during the summer months and our eyes, we all had the same pearly eyes. There was not much that set pure bred humans apart from one another. Mostly our family features, our varying shades of grey, silver and white hair and eyes. Our clothing was one thing we could always say was unique to us. Solely ours. All our clothing was white, silver or grey. We were forbidden to wear anything outside of our design scheme, it being seen as a form of defacing ourselves.
“Lady Eighth, it’s such a pleasure to be in your company once more.” A man, a few years older than me, took my hand and placed a kiss upon it. Lord Virnar had been after my hand since I came of age three years ago. I had no interest in him, but one look over his shoulder and my mothers gentle eyes were glaring back at me. I knew that look.
“Lord Virnar, the pleasure is mine.” I replied with a soft smile, my voice barely above a whisper. All ladies of high society were expected to have this whispery voice to them. I hated it.
Lord Virnar began talking about his business, something to do with a new market in the capital. My attention was caught by Prudence making her entrance. Her husband was nowhere to be seen, a common occurrence with the two. Prudence had been subjected to an arranged marriage with the head of the textiles district almost five years ago. Their marriage was the talk of the kingdom as Prudence was the first born female. Her marriage was always destined to be one of political or financial gain.
“Mother, father, how I missed you!” She seemed to float up the few steps and into the entrance. Her thin arms wrapping around my mother and then moving to place a kiss upon fathers cheek. Prudence had always been mother’s favourite. She was the perfect image of mother, the perfect lady to high society and always seemed to hold herself with an air of grace.
I however, knew that to be utterly false. Prudence had always been a sly woman. Her little comments and whispers in the ears of those she wanted to use and manipulate. No one saw it, perhaps Dahlia saw it every now and then, but I was the only one who knew just how truly cruel and evil she could be. It was in the tilt of her lip as she smiled at you, the scratches of her nails as she held you in her hugs.
The crowd began to grow, guests arriving more abundantly now. Father made a show to begin moving everyone to the Grand Hall. Most of our feasts were held there and it was no doubt that the rest of my siblings would be there to welcome everyone with drinks and canapes.
Lord Virnar latched himself to me as we turned to make our way to the hall. Mother’s hand reached for my shoulder as she stopped me and excused Lord Virnar.
“Octavia, I would like you to stay here and welcome our guests as they arrive. There are more to come and they will need to be greeted with the utmost respect.” She gave me a very pointed look before her hand moved from my shoulder to the back of my neck, holding my head in place. “Do you understand?”
The weight of her words and actions sank into my bones. This wasn’t a typical feast. There was something different, something that I didn’t know about.
I nodded my head and put on my soft smile before whispering a quiet ‘yes mother, I understand’. She seemed to be pleased with my response as she straightened herself out and floated down the hallway.
There were servants around me, waiting for the next swarm of people to come through the door and direct them to the hall. As they came, I greeted them in the typical Arctorian manner. They each bowed, the men all taking my hand and placing a kiss upon it, the women leaning in to touch our cheeks together. It had been thirty minutes of constant streams of people entering, eventually it slowed down.
“Lady Eighth, there’s a horde of reptilians making their way across the gardens, they are the last guests for this evening.” A guard spoke from the entrance, just outside the door. He must’ve known I wanted to leave. My heart sped up, rapidly beating against my chest. I’d never seen reptilians before. I had heard stories of them, all violent and gruesome. They were a species to be feared. There were none that resided in the Southern Kingdom.
Inching further towards the door, I peaked out to get a glance at them. They were huge. My mouth dropped open in shock. I had conversed with other species before, although it had been fleeting and only with the servants of the palace, I never quite expected that other species could resemble their animalistic side so much.
The reptilian horde were led by a monstrous man. His skin shone like gold as he strode down the flame lit path. The white marble beneath his heavy leather boots was a stark contrast. The horde were murmuring behind him, too quiet to hear from my perch by the entrance. The leader’s attire was disgraceful, all leathers and braided fabric. His chest and shoulders were free of anything, making me quickly glance anywhere else. How improper of him. When my eyes caught multiple bare chests, all covered in intricate marks, I took a step back and covered my blushing face with my hand. A servant stepped up to me with a white feathered fan, pearls dotted on the edges.
“Lady Eighth,” she addressed me, ensuring my face was covered as the horde made their way up the steps. The embarrassment and anger roared inside me. Did these men have no manners, showing themselves to the world like that? It had not been the first time I had seen a bare chest and yet it still startled me, all the words my mother, sisters and tutors shared with me on the etiquette of the ladies.
Their presence was suffocating as they piled into the entrance, their tall frames diminishing the light cast along the walls. From this distance it was clear they had been speaking in a different language. Trying frantically to calm myself, I lowered my fan, handing it back to the servant and hoping my face was not a red mess. I kept my eyes downcast and tried my best to welcome them. I knew nothing of their culture and was at a loss on how to greet them as per their customs.
Mother never thought of this.
Prudence or Magnus would have been much better choices to greet our guests; they knew more about them than I did.
“Good evening,” I began, steadying my voice. It was odd to address guests while looking at their feet and trousers. The silence was deafening as they listened. “I am Lady Eighth, Octavia Arctorian. Welcome to Ardalia. Please follow me.” I struggled to catch my breath, my heart racing and wanting to escort them to the hall quickly. Slowly turning to the passage way, I began to walk, their heavy steps and clanking attire indication they were following.
