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Chapter 15 - White Lies

Nereyda

"Nereyda I'm with child."

How anyone could be expected to not show emotion when their mother told them they were pregnant I had no idea. As it was I nearly swooned at Fleta's words.

I looked away from her and tried my best to collapse as slowly as I could into the chair behind me. I didn't speak. Not only did I not know what to say, but I was also sure that my emotion would be tangible if words left my mouth.

Glancing back at her I saw that she expected me to say something. Well that was just too bad, I still had nothing to say. I thought I saw something like pride enter her eyes at my speechlessness but it was so distant that I couldn't be sure.

When she realised I wasn't going to speak, she said "There will be an announcement tomorrow," before sweeping silently out of the drawing room. I blew out my breath shakily once she was out of the room.

The huge white armchair I perched in faced what was now a blazing fire, the double door entrance to my left. The majority of the ground floor was open plan, there were only two drawing rooms that were private.

My lips tightened as I tried to process the news that had been dropped on my head like a brick from the sky. My mother was pregnant, my mother was pregnant. The thought played over and over again in my head.

I didn't understand how it was possible. Of course, I understood the logistics but it was the implications that I found overwhelming. It meant that my mother and father had sex. Most likely more than once - it wasn't easy to become pregnant by a different species. How that had gone down I couldn't begin to imagine. I thought sex was supposed to be full of heat and passion, and my experiences with Braeden had pretty much solidified that idea for me.

And in nine to twelve months I was going to have a baby brother or sister. Someone who would be subjected to the Ryker convention, someone who would have the life beat out of them before it could properly take root.

I shouldn't be as surprised as I was, I realised. For I was a girl and was being married off with hurried pressure. My father would need a male son to take over the crown after him, and I was sure he would keep trying until he got what he wanted. He always got what he wanted.

+++++

The thunk of hail hitting my window woke me in the night. It wasn't surprising really, we were nearing the start of winter and everyone was preparing for the first fall of the year.

I rolled over in my colossal white bed, hoping to get back to sleep. The sight of a silhouetted black figure standing on my balcony had me gasping and shrinking away. If I hadn't been so well trained by my family I was sure that I would have screamed and jumped from the bed.

As it was, I was frozen to the bed with fear, unable to do anything by stare at the the figure as it reached around, obviously searching for the latch that would open the glass door into my room.

Knowing that the latch was locked and thinking it was probably better that I saw who my attacker was, I reached over across my bed and flipped the light on.

When ruffled black hair and sharp blue eyes came into view, I collapsed on my bed, holding my hand to my heart. I was exceedingly surprised by his appearance, not so much because it was the dead of night and at the King's castle but more because we hadn't spoken in nearly five days since I'd told him of my engagement. I'd been beginning to think he'd given up on me.

Braeden tapped again at the door and I realised that it wasn't hailing. Huffing, I angrily pushed up from my bed, storming towards my window, ready to give Braeden a piece of my mind for the heart attack he'd nearly given me.

However as I stood toe to toe with him, the glass the only thing between us, my anger left me abruptly. His blue eyes were lighter than normal, like the palest ice on a river. They pinned me down, their anguish and stoicism nearly knocking me to the floor.

I leaned down and opened the door without question, an ominous sense of foreboding weighing on my stomach.

He gracefully ducked into the room, but didn't stop to hug, kiss or even smile at me before pacing away, drawing his hands through his hair. It was silent for several moments, him silently stressing and me watching him work himself up.

Unable to stand the tension anymore I softly asked, "How did you know which room was mine?"

He still didn't look at me, not a good sign, but muttered "I could smell you."

Realising that this wasn't going to stop anytime soon, I returned to my bed and sat down. He eyed the bed warily, his eyes swinging around to find the chair - which was piled with wolf furs. His nose crinkled with disgust, the corners of his lips turning down.

I felt a bizarre sense of guilt at his expression, even though I hadn't done anything. The furs had previously been what I'd slept on, I'd recently removed them from my bed after finding out what Braeden was. I'd been meaning to ask Amberly to remove them from my room but I'd been out so much recently it had slipped my mind.

He stayed standing, occasionally glancing across the room in my direction, before muttering incoherently and continuing with his pacing. "I need to tell you something," he said finally, his voice weak.

I nodded in response, even though he wasn't looking at me. I didn't know how to deal with him when he was like this, my leopard had started to make herself known, begging me to take care of our mate.

He looked at the ceiling, seeming to see through it towards the sky, and even towards the gods. "I..." He stopped.

Deciding this was much too painful for me to simply do nothing, I stood and slowly made my way to his side. I carefully reached my arms around his neck, pulling him into what I hoped was a comforting embrace.

He exhaled in a rush, his arms coming around me so tightly I nearly couldn't breathe. I didn't mind one bit.

After a few seconds he pulled back to look me in the eyes, the dull light of the lamp casting shadows across his face. "You know I love you right?"

I nodded ardently, tears pricking my eyes for reasons I couldn't name. I came up on my tiptoes to reach him and he met me halfway in a brutal kiss that burned me all the way to my toes.

He took my mouth fiercely, lifting off my feet and laying me down tenderly on the bed. My hands tangled and tugged at his hair and his broad shoulders came up and over my body. His hands rested lightly on my sides, fingers caressing me with the slightest strokes. I arched into him, the contrast between his hard kiss and gentle touches making me clutch him tighter.

"Braeden," I moaned when his mouth came down to suck at my collarbone. Abruptly there was a sharp pain there, the fact that he'd bit me arousing me more than anything.

"Remember," he whispered, finally pushing his hips into mine. A breathy whimper escaped me at the same time he took a shuddering gasp. "No matter what..." He continued, his hand coming up under my shift now to run down my bare stomach.

"I love you."

+++++

I spent most of the next morning lounging in bed. Breakfast and lunch had been cancelled so the main hall could be prepared for the evening celebration. Also, it wasn't like any of the females were going to be eating before tonight so it was only the males who would have to have food brought up to their rooms.

Braeden had been gone long before I awoke, but I hadn't really minded. However I hadn't forgotten the strange mood he'd been in when he first came to me, and I contemplated this even as my body ached sweetly with the aftereffects of our encounter.

As the maids rushed around me later that day, piling on all sorts of creams and lotions, a strange daydream came to me. I saw a hazy image of Braeden cloaked in darkness, stroking my hair as he leaned across the bed, fully clothed. "Be careful tomorrow," he'd whispered in my ear before jumping off the balcony.

It seemed quite bizarre to my lazily content mind but I couldn't ignore how parallel it seemed to the events yesterday. I thought it was more likely to be a memory and not a figment of my imagination.

I was still contemplating this as Gwen, the makeup artist, put the finishing touches to my face and my mother walked in.

She was dressed in her own sweeping white dress, her red hair that was usually pulled back in a severe bun falling in waves to her waist. An elaborately braided hairstyle held the hair off her face whilst also securing her tiara in place. I was too young for such hairstyles.

"Smooth face Nereyda," she said and I immediately ridded myself of my thoughtful frown. They were the words I had always heard growing up, 'Smooth face Nereyda, back straight Nereyda, no emotion Nereyda'. I was sure that the same words would be repeated to my future sibling.

"Sorry mama," I softened my voice, looking at the ground.

One of her long fingers came under my chin and tipped my face up. "Why do we wear masks Nereyda?"

"To protect ourselves," I repeated the words she'd always told me, feeling like I was six years old once again.

"Because if no one knows what you're thinking, you're safer," she continued from where I'd left off. "You stand solid and cold, like an immovable column of shining ice. People can look but they can't touch, and when you can see what they're thinking but they can't see anything about you...you own them."

I'd heard her speech multiple times growing up and it never ceased to inspire me. However today, although her words hit me hard, it was not for the reasons they used to. I couldn't believe how sad her perception of the world made me. How could she not want to open up to anyone, just for fear that they would hurt her? I didn't see how that could even be called living.

I nodded demurely, allowing her to place the tiara on my head and waiting for the maids to secure it in place before following her out of my room.

I don't know how long we waited in the foyer before my father came down in his sweeping robes to wait with us. I was surprised when he exchanged nods with my mother. That had to be as close to affectionate as I'd seen them being. Must be to do with the sex, my wayward mind spat out the thought before I could control it.

It was a few minutes later when my ears picked up the sounds of light footfall coming up the palace stairs. I knew it to be visitors from other nations that had come to visit my parents for the announcement. Oscar was already at my side, him and his brother representing Anell. Deacon smirked at me when we made eye contact, his usual 'I know something you don't' smugness plastered across his face.

I found myself curious to see the Cretans in terms of them being rulers Braeden had grown up under. He'd told me he was from Creta, after which I realised his royalty visited us on occasion.

The eagles entered then, a procession of the King followed by a stream of guards. I guessed the King was around thirteen, perhaps fourteen at a push. Like thousands across the world, the Quakes had taken his relatives (grandparents), and a rebellion had slaughtered his parents soon after. The young eagle changeling, stood straight and proud in his pale grey robes. His vulture advisor, also dressed in grey, hovered closely by his side.

My father nodded at them, something he only did to those he respected. I knew that the two Nations had a truce and I'd heard that my father hoped to forge an alliance with the Cretans.

The two Kings were talking and I was idly wondering when we would move to the dining room for food - my stomach was growling at me - when the great doors opened, with none too little force, once again.

We all looked up at the sound. My eyes flickered to my father in question and I was shocked to see what almost hinted at a grim expression on his face. I quickly swung my eyes back to the visitors whom we were not expecting.

A tall, slim woman stood at the helm of the parade, however it was not her figure that shocked me but her clothes. Navy cloth bound her breasts and covered her private areas but other than that, only a muddy blue (like the colour of dirty dishwater) translucent silk dress covered her. We could see nearly every inch of her burned bronze skin.

Her plaited black hair rested over her shoulder and her black eyes, surrounded by rings of fire, stared at us with open amusement that verged on contempt. "Ryker," she said, her voice so thickly accented I could hardly hear my father's name in it.

Her female followers were dressed much in the same way as her, sans the silver armlets and head jewelry. The men were dressed in muddy blue waistcoats, which laid open displaying their whole chests, and navy breeches. I didn't know how they weren't freezing to death or if perhaps reptiles were just immune to cold. Because that's what I'd realised they were; the reptiles of Retisha.

"Dubheasa," my father said in his cotton candy manner.

Her tongue protruded from full lips, a forked blur that I almost thought I'd imagined. Oscar's arm came around me then, his hand gripping my shoulder lightly, and I knew that the flicking tongue was a very real threat.

Before the Quakes, civil war between the reptiles and mammals had been daily life for everyone. And we were now looking at Queen Dubheasa, the only reigning King or Queen in the Five Nations who had survived the Quakes.

Without realising, I had wrapped my arm around Oscar's waist.

My father led us to the dining hall which had been done up nicely for the event. We all took our seats, the Cretan King and Retishan Queen sitting at the Paladian King's sides. I, with reluctance, sat down next to the Reptilian Queen, Oscar close beside me. My mother sat opposite me and Lord Deacon next to her. I held Oscar's hand tightly under the table.

The Queen took it upon herself to comment loudly on everything around her, namely the 'monotonous' feel of the place. I couldn't say I disagreed with her there. The Cretan King, obviously taught in the ways of Paladu, was quiet throughout.

"I must say," the Queen went off again, "the Lithian river is extremely beautiful." She placed a long fingernail on her lip. "Sorry," she didn't sound sorry at all, "I meant Paladian."

It would be obvious to anyone with ears that she was mocking my father. I was pretty sure his eye twitched, but I could have been imagining it.

"Tell me," he said, "What did you think of the Dam of the Dead coming down here?"

My geography clicked into place then and I realised she was talking about how she swum down the river from Retisha into Paladu. My father was talking about the morbid dam on the border of the two Nations. The dam that had collapsed and wiped out every single soul in a fifty mile radius. It was said that skeletons littered the rubble.

I thought she paled under her brown complexion but she just sniffed at him and moved on to other matters - which happened to be me.

"My, my," she said, lifting a piece of my white hair away from my shoulders. I fought the urge to cringe away and sufficed myself with nearly breaking Oscar's hand in my grip.

"We are pretty aren't we," she continued, her voice almost a hiss and her tongue darting out.

"Why are you having another baby when you have this perfect doll right here?" She addressed her question to my father, even as her black fiery eyes bored into me.

I regretted my father's answer even before he said it. "Because she's female and is not fit to rule."

Her hand dropped my hair, her body swung to face my father, her strong legs pushed her to her feet, her tongue slid out and she bared rows and rows of sharpened teeth and then...a scream ripped through the castle. But it wasn't hers.

Everyone, including the Queen, turned to look at the entrance to the dining hall. The scream had come from upstairs, it had been muffled after a couple of seconds. Then everyone was out of their seats, quickly hopping up the stairs to see what the disturbance was.

I nearly walked into my father when he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. Luckily, Oscar steadied me, pulling me to the side so I could peer around the King's mountainous frame and at the spectacle in front of us.

The guards who had formed close ranks around us readied themselves for battle, pointing their spears at the cloaked figures, but they were weary. Five of the black cloak's surrounded the sixth, middle figure, all five of them holding drawn arrows pointing outwards.

The middle figure's hood was pulled so low over his face that nothing but a pair of pink lips were on display. His gloved hand was clamped over a maid's mouth, his other hand holding a sharpened knife to her throat.

Looking past them down the corridor, I saw several fallen guards littering the floor. My hand came up to my mouth to hold in my gasp of horror, my body falling weakly against Oscar's side.

"Move and she dies," the middle one spoke, his rough voice sounding strangely familiar to my ears.

This was the rebellion, and it was with absolute shame that I realised I had worn one of those cloaks before. The men were standing in front of the entrance to the storage vaults and when one of the arrow carrying men glanced nervously at the closed doors, I realised that some of their team were in there.

A pregnant silence passed as we stared at the cult in shock. Just as Queen Dubheasa hissed "this is ridiculous," two figures emerged from the white oak doors.

One looked much like the middle character, his hood pulled low over his eyes. The other held several scrolls in his hands, his long red hair peeking out from under an identical black hood.

They started inching their way backwards, further into the left wing of the castle and after a second I realised with a start that they were making their way towards the goods lift.

My heart panged in my chest just as the middle figure looked up slightly, exposing the bottom half of his face. I felt sick, my head spinning at the realisation as I leaned further into Oscar. The redhead with the hood was not a man but a girl. She was Gelina, and with her was Asher. And in the centre of the circle was Braeden.

They were running now, pacing backwards towards the servant's chambers. I expected my father to follow them. He didn't.

Braeden's hood fell back further in his haste. His eyes met mine. He kept running.

Then they were gone, leaving only a trail of bodies in their wake. Everyone turned to my father in question. He blinked slowly at the scene before saying softly, "the blueprints they stole are out of date anyway."

And that's when I went limp in Oscar's arms. 

--- A/N ---

Well...that was eventful. Let me know what you thought, were you expecting any of that? What do you think will become of Nereyda & Braeden now? Vote and comment if you like :) Braeden POV up next ;) - Z