Radiance (Wraith Kings Book 1)(29)
She found a bench in an alcove sheltered by a half dome of tree branches and now sat to face a sunrise she hadn’t seen since she left Pricid.
The gardens, like the Kai, had fallen asleep with the coming of day. Brishen had shown her the gardens shortly after his return of Talumey’s mortem light to his family. Ildiko had gasped and clapped her hands at its beauty. Pale flowers bloomed in lush profusion, glowing softly under the moon’s light in shades of iridescent pearl and ivory. The leaves on the trees were plated silver, and the entire garden shimmered in the black night like the surface landscape of a fallen star.
This was the first time she had viewed them in daylight, and it was a far bleaker sight. The flowers had closed up behind dark, protective husks, and the leaves crackled black and spiny in the cool breeze. Morning had transformed the garden into an otherworldly space straight out of a nightmare. Sitting beneath the skeletal branches of the angular trees, Ildiko had never felt so alone or out of place.
Tears stung her eyes. She blinked them away. They welled again, stubbornly refusing to dry up even as the rising sun made her squint before its brilliant rays. She breathed slowly—in, out—and refused to succumb to the suffocating tightness in her chest or the sobs rising in her throat.
“I’m tired,” she whispered to herself. “Just tired.” There was no good reason to cry. Her husband would never win any Gauri beauty contests, but he was an exceptional man. Ildiko liked him very much. Many wives were not so lucky with the mates chosen for them or even ones they chose themselves.
His people, with the exception of his mother, had been civil and welcoming to her in the reserved way of the Kai. While they may never see her as Kai or accept her on her own merit, their respect for Brishen ensured they would always give the respect due to her as his wife. She expected nothing more.
Still, she eagerly awaited Brishen’s announcement that they’d leave Haradis and travel to his estate. It might hug the borders with hostile Belawat, but it was solely Brishen’s domain, one she hoped she could make hers as well.
She recalled their visit to Talumey’s mother, Tarawin. The evening after that first dire court feast , they’d ridden through Haradis’s narrow streets on horseback instead of in a carriage. Brishen had offered a choice.
“We can ride in a carriage, or you can ride pillion with me. You’ll have more privacy in the carriage if you wish, but you’ll be able to see Haradis better from horseback.”
Ildiko had chosen horseback and was glad she did. The capital city was a bustling place in the middle of the night, and she had to remind herself that for the Kai, this was the middle of their day. Except for the darkness and the heavy foot traffic of slate-skinned people with firefly eyes, Haradis might have been like any other city—alive with vendors hawking their wares, children chasing dogs and chickens through the narrow alleyways, mothers shouting at them to return or be careful, and pickpockets slinking about to relieve the unwary of their coin. Prostitutes peddled their bodies next to merchants selling wine and various foods roasted on spits or steamed in pots.
The crowds parted as she rode with Brishen through the streets, accompanied by a small contingent of palace guards. Some pointed; others waved, and many stretched their necks for a glimpse of the prince’s new wife. The deep hood she wore concealed her for the most part. Brishen had not initially approved.
“You shouldn’t have to cover yourself. I’m not ashamed of my bride, Ildiko.”
She patted his hand. “It’s a matter of convenience, not shame, Brishen. If I go out there bareheaded and barefaced, we’ll never get to Tarawin’s home before dawn. And when we do, we’ll have a mob behind us, all wanting to gawk at me. In her place, I’d find our arrival unpleasant at best.”
He’d reluctantly agreed with her reasoning, and they arrived at Tarawin’s house with only a small crowd of curious neighbors watching from their doorways. As soon as the woman opened the door and ushered them inside, the palace guard closed ranks outside, a solid barrier between them and any would-be visitors.
Like all the Kai women Ildiko had met so far, Talumey’s mother was a tall, lithe creature with silvery hair. She lacked Anhuset’s muscular athleticism and Secmis’s haughty grace, but Ildiko thought her lovely in the Kai fashion. There was a softness to her features as well as a deep sadness that bracketed her mouth.
She knelt before Brishen. “You honor my house with your presence, Herceges. You and your wife.”
Brishen helped her rise and held her hand. “I wish I brought a more joyful offering than this.”
Tarawin brought their clasped hands to her forehead. “It is still treasured. My son would have never dreamed of such a privilege. I’m thankful you brought him home to us.” She glanced at the silent Ildiko, and the lines at the corners of her eyes deepened with her faint smile. “A blessing on your marriage, Hercegesé. Welcome to Haradis. Welcome to my humble home.”
It was a humble home, spotlessly clean, inviting to any who entered. A young girl hovered behind her mother, and Ildiko immediately caught the resemblance between her and Kirgipa. Tarawin introduced her as Kirgipa’s younger sister, Atalan.
Brishen had offered to bring Kirgipa with them when he returned Talumey’s mortem light. The servant had refused. “I’ll be with my mother when she brings his mortem light to Emlek and comfort her there. I don’t think I can bear to see my brother reduced to just light and memory.”