Kiora

Illyria waits for her outside. Kiora raises her brows in surprise. She thought Illyria would have gone back already.

"Did you really think I'd let you walk these corridors without a chaperone?" Illyria asks as she sees Kiora's shocked expression.

"No," Kiora smiles and falls into step beside her. Ahead of them, the two guards that brought them, turn and lead the way back after a nod from Illyria.

They start walking in silence, Kiora's mind still spinning.

"Dare I ask what happened in there?" Illyria asks.

"To be honest, High Lady, I'm not sure even I know," Kiora sighs. "And I'm not sure what I'm allowed to say anyway."

"Can I ask why you were called upon, at least?"

"General Castor wanted to ask me something."

"Huh," Illyria chuckles.

"What?" Kiora asks softly.

"Nothing," she replies, sighing almost sadly.

Kiora pauses and turns to face Illyria, who frowns and comes to a stop.

"We are to return to Alathor Court, Lady Kiora. Come," she urges, clearly uncomfortable after everything that has happened this afternoon.

"Lady Illyria," Kiora begins, biting at the inside of her cheek. Illyria looks around wearily, as though being out of the court for this long will get her into trouble. Kiora sighs and starts walking again, though slowly. Illyria stays beside her.

"What is it?" Illyria asks.

"Are you not tired?" Kiora asks.

"Tired?" Illyria asks.

"Of whatever game this is between us."

Illyria doesn't look at her. Instead, her jaw clenches and she gulps. Kiora continues.

"Doesn't it get exhausting always competing and scheming for the emperor's attention or favour? I am not looking to outshine you. I just want to have a peaceful life. Don't you want that too?" she asks pleadingly, hoping that her moment of vulnerability will speak to Illyria in some way.

Illyria doesn't reply for a moment and she stares ahead blankly.

"We don't have to be friends," Kiora says, "but can't we just be..." she trails off, trying to think of the word. "Comfortable with each other?"

Illyria lets out a small, humourless chuckle.

"Deep down, I know you're right, Kiora. I would love nothing more than just to have a peaceful life in these miserable fucking walls. But I can't let my guard down. Not for anyone and especially not for you."

Kiora's eyes widen in surprise at her honesty, and she opens her mouth to speak. Before she can, Illyria stops and turns to look into her eyes.

"You and I can never be friends. We can't ever be anything more than enemies," Illyria says.

"Why?" Kiora pleads, her chest aching. Tiredness consumes her at the thought of scheming and fighting off Illyria's wicked plans for the next five decades, if not more.

Illyria meets Kiora's stare, her beautiful turquoise eyes watering with unspilled tears. "Because the way the emperor looks at you is the way he used to look at me," Illyria says, her voice breaking slightly. Kiora gulps, her mind going blank upon hearing the revelation. Illyria smiles sadly and starts walking again. Kiora catches up, feeling cold in the silence that has fallen between them. After a few moments, Illyria takes in a deep breath.

"I have fought so hard to be where I am today. To be respected, to be adored. I will not allow the emperor to push me aside. Not for you. Not for anyone. Being the favourite wife means more to me than just the power that comes from it. I love the emperor. He is the only man I ever will love. He is the only man I've ever been allowed to love. I have been his since I was fifteen, through no choice of my own. I will give him my whole life. Yet, to him, I am just another passing beauty. He is immortal. I am nothing but an insignificant speck in his life. I am one of his many women. So, whilst I am here, I will make sure I leave my mark on his life. I will be special. I will not let my love go to waste."

Kiora's stomach drops and Alice's face pops into her head. Remembering her dear Alice makes her chest tighten. Alice was like Illyria, she supposes. She gave Kiora her whole life but Kiora hadn't even lived a quarter of hers. As she thinks that, the memory of Alice disappears like smoke.

"I know it isn't your fault. You asked to be here as much as I did."

"We have that in common, I suppose," Kiora says sadly.

Illyria chuckles and nods her head. "We do," she agrees. "You may hate me, Kiora. And you have every right to. But one day, you'll understand. One day, the emperor will stop looking at you with adoration and he'll turn his gaze to the next special beauty."

Kiora frowns. No, she won't let that happen.

Illyria smiles knowingly. "There it is," she says. "Now we have another thing in common."

Shame bites at Kiora, making her stomach twist. Illyria links arms with Kiora and lets out a long sigh.

"We will always be enemies, Kiora. This small world of ours doesn't allow us to be friends. But, we can respect each other. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Kiora says.

"I propose that once a week, you and I sit together. Alone, and away from the other wives. For those few hours, we can be friends. For those few hours, we can just be normal women. What do you think?" she asks.

Kiora smiles and nods her head.

"I think that is a wonderful idea," she says.

"Excellent," Illyria replies and as they walk through the doors into Alathor court, both women sigh sadly. Illyria removes her arm from Kiora's and takes a step away.

"Well, that was an enlightening conversation," she says. "I'll see you soon, Lady Kiora."

"I'll see you soon," Kiora replies, curtsying. Illyria smirks, then turns on her heels and walks away. For a few moments, Kiora stands still in stunned silence, trying to understand what just happened.

***

Her handmaidens dress her slowly under Sorcha's watchful gaze. Already, they had attempted to style her in less than flattering ways which both Sorcha and Kiora had quickly shut down. Kiora wishes she could have her old handmaidens back and not those in Illyria's grasp.

"No, that shade does not suit Lady Kiora. Go with a soft pink," Sorcha says through gritted teeth as one of the handmaidens dabs her lip brush into a strangely coloured brown paint. The woman smiles sarcastically and shuts the lid with a loud clap.

"Of course, Mistress Sorcha," she says and picks up a new paint pot. Kiora and Sorcha meet eyes, both of them exhausted. She can see it, especially on Sorcha's features, with heavy bags resting under her eyes. Since the new handmaidens, Sorcha has had to be alert at almost every waking moment in fear the women will sabotage something.

The handmaiden makes a grand gesture of showing the colour to Kiora and Sorcha. Kiora grits her teeth in frustration, but forces on a polite smile. She's already on thin enough ice with Athan. Snapping at one of her handmaidens because she got her lip colour wrong would do nothing to improve his attitude. She will have to wait until he's in a better mood before she has a word with him about trying to get her old handmaidens back and even then, there's no promise he will help. These women have been training and working under High Lady Illyria after all, they are the best of the best, supposedly. Any other wife would feel honoured to have such a skilled and talented team working with them.

"Oh, get out of the way," Sorcha hisses and snatches the brush from the maid's hand whilst shaking her head. She grabs a washcloth and wipes away the lip paint the maid had drawn beyond the lines of Kiora's lips.

"Magdelyn, this is shoddy work," Sorcha says, her voice strong and authoritative. "I have seen your skills when it comes to make-up and styling. However, your actions this morning give me reason to believe that your reputation as one of our best stylists has been grossly exaggerated. Tell me, are you unwell?"

"No, Mistress Sorcha," Magdelyn says, bowing her head. Kiora bites back a smile and lets Sorcha have her moment.

"Then what excuse do you have for trying to make one of the emperor's wives look so plain and unflattering on a day such as this? She is to go out to the people on the emperor's arm. Do you seek to embarrass him by having her appear as anything less than spectacular?"

Magdelyn gasps and stutters awkwardly. "No, no, Mistress Sorcha. I would never try to bring embarrassment to his majesty."

"Then explain yourself."

"I... I am just having an off day, Mistress," she says, her voice trembling with panic.

"An off day?" Sorcha argues and looks between her and all the other handmaidens who have all stopped awkwardly. "I suppose that is the same excuse for all of you then. That can be the only reason for your lazy, shoddy work and atrocious attitudes, right?" She raises her eyebrow expectantly. The handmaidens look at each other awkwardly, not meeting Sorcha's stare. "I would hate to accuse you all of sabotage."

Some of them pale and Sorcha shakes her head. "I will finish attending to Lady Kiora myself today, seeing as you all seem to be so sick that you can't do a proper job. You may leave and I hope that when you return to your duties tomorrow, you are feeling better and can do your jobs properly and respectfully. You are dismissed."

"Yes, Mistress Sorcha," they say, bowing their heads and scuttling out quickly. Once the door shuts behind them, Kiora and Sorcha meet eyes and then start giggling.

"That was amazing," Kiora says, smiling widely.

"My hands are shaking," Sorcha says, holding up her trembling hand. Kiora takes it a squeezes it warmly.

"Thank you," she says. "I am glad I at least have someone on my side."

"Always," Sorcha says, smiling softly. "Now, I really need to get you ready. It is only an hour until you have to leave and you need to look magnificent."

***

"Lady Kiora, don't you look ravishing? Surprising, considering the fact that you let Sorcha dismiss all of your handmaidens," Illyria says as Kiora approaches the carriage. Kiora curtseys in greeting then smiles widely, not letting Illyria's snide comments ruin her mood. She's finally leaving the palace. Nothing is going to sour her joy or excitement. Plus, after their conversation a few days ago, Kiora sees Illyria in a new light. She still doesn't like her, but as agreed, she does respect her.

"Some of the handmaids have taken ill," Kiora says calmly. "Fortunately, Sorcha is incredibly talented and was able to get me ready herself."

Kiora resists the urge to swish the skirts of her dress. She runs her hands through the material. It's white with a shimmering layer over the top that looks like ice. Blue jewels rest on various parts of the corset and sleeves, surrounded by swirling metal frames encrusted with tiny diamonds. She wears a grand sparkling necklace and headdress to match. The headdress looks spectacular, nestled between her silver-lilac hair which falls down her back in elegant waves.

Sorcha has continued the pristine, icy look through Kiora's makeup. Simple shimmers surround her silver-lilac eyes. More glows subtly atop her cheekbones, making them look sharp. Her full lips are painted a delicate pink.

Kiora knows she looks spectacular.

Illyria looks stunning too, wearing a dress the colour of rubies that clings to her body in all the right places. It is lined with golden patterns and threads and a huge, golden headdress sits atop her head with chains of gold falling in front of her face, rubies glittering and tinkling on the end.

"You look beautiful, High Lady," Kiora says. Illyria smiles and the two share a brief look before they are distracted by the doors opening behind them. The other wives, who are already sat in the carriages, straighten and giggle excitedly as Athan walks into the hall. Kiora's mouth nearly drops open as she looks at him.

He looks giant, adorned in some of the most gleaming, intricate golden armour Kiora has ever seen. It rests over his huge body in multiple layers, the metal engraved with twisting, flame-like shapes. A great, deep red, velvet cloak hangs down his back, attached to his shoulders by golden dragon heads that have sparkling rubies for eyes. His thick golden hair hangs around his shoulders neatly, hiding the shaved parts. The black and deep red scales that adorn his hairline and cheekbones almost look like they're glowing.

He is magnificent.

"My beautiful wives," he says, smiling brightly. His eyes find Kiora's and she curtsy's, not looking away from his gaze. He has yet to recover from the meeting the other day. Kiora isn't too fussed though. She knows he'll get over it eventually. She doesn't miss the way he stares at her, gulping slightly as he looks over her ethereal beauty.

"Your majesty," Illyria interrupts. Quickly, he looks away from Kiora. Illyria smiles gracefully. "We must leave soon or we'll be late to the cathedral."

"Yes, you're right," he chuckles and approaches the two women. He holds out his hand to Kiora. She smiles and takes it. His grip is tight on her fingers. A warning. His smile is gracious as he helps her up the steps into the carriage.

"I hope you all enjoy your outing today," he says, stepping back down from the carriage once Kiora is seated with the other wives. "But remember, you are representing me."

The wives nod their heads, still beaming with excitement.

"Wonderful," he says, then holds out his arm for Illyria. She beams widely and takes it. Kiora feels a pang of jealousy surge through her, filling her mouth with a bitter taste, as she looks at them together in their matching colours.

She hates to admit it, but they are a spectacular couple.

The pair get into a carriage ahead of them. Though the carriage she sits in is grand, it is nothing compared to the emperor's. Which, unsurprisingly, is nearly solid gold and pulled by seven giant black horses.

Kiora is quickly distracted from the emperor as the doors ahead open, revealing the world beyond Alathor Court. Excitement pulses through her, making her hands almost tremble. She isn't the only one who feels this way either. The wives who sit alongside her don't even shoot her hateful glares, all of them focused on the outside world.

The carriage moves and Kiora can't keep the smile off her face as they leave the courtyard. She stares out with wide eyes at the city as they pass, smiling brightly at the people as they wave and cheer. She gasps in awe at all the beautiful and bright decorations that line the streets. The sunlight beams down, making all the flags and paintings vibrant with colour.

Everything is so perfectly joyful. The breeze smells fresh. The loud noise of roaring crowds and cheering is so welcoming after nearly a year of being in the quiet halls and gardens of Alathor Court.

Kiora waves at everyone they pass. Sometimes, she catches the flowers they throw at her, laughing with pure joy. She ignores the emperor and Illyria ahead, who are getting most of the attention, so focused on enjoying this rare taste of freedom.

Too soon, they are arriving in the grand courtyard of the cathedral. Kiora looks up at it, remembering that the last time she was here, it was the day she and the emperor married. She shudders and forces that from her mind, instead turning back to the hundreds of people who are gathered. They hold more brightly painted flags, waving them as they cheer. It is a marvellous sight to behold.

Kiora doesn't even know what is being celebrated. Sorcha had told her, but now, in the moment, her mind is blank but for sheer happiness. She closes her eyes, smiling, even enjoying the way the sun feels on her body.

The carriage comes to a stop and she stands, ready to be helped down. Kiora sighs with disappointment as she realises she has to go back inside. She just wishes she could stay out here longer, to stare at all the flowers and the golden buildings and beautiful flags. But she follows behind Illyria and the emperor as they make their way toward the entrance. Athan holds Illyria's arm as they move. Both of them occasionally stop to take a bouquet from the lucky few who are right at the front of the crowds. Illyria's smile is the most joyous and genuine Kiora had ever seen it. In fact, Illyria has never looked so radiant, so beautiful. Especially on the arms of Athan.

That will be me one day.

The thought frightens Kiora. Why had she thought that? The smile falls from her face and she lets out a long sigh.

"Lady Kiora!" someone shouts beside her. Immediately, she pulls the smile back onto her face and turns to the child who had called for her.

Kiora gasps and reaches for the rose. "Thank you so much," she says, taking it from the child, who is bouncing with excitement.

Before she can ask the child for her name, a great screech fills the air. Kiora gasps and looks to the sky as screams fill the courtyard. Her mouth dries with fear and she watches as all those in the courtyard cry out and duck for cover.

The wind picks up around her, making her hair flutter wildly. Athan charges back towards her, his dragon eyes bright with fear and anger.

"Kiora," he says, having to shout over the sound of the wind. Another roar, so loud and deep, that the ground rumbles beneath them, fills the air. It is so high-pitched, that Kiora almost has to cover her ears to stop them from hurting.

"Come on, we need to get you to safety," Athan says, pulling at her arm.

Kiora remains frozen.

Then, the air changes, growing heavy, and thick, smelling of smoke. A shadow falls over them and Kiora's breath stills in her throat as she stares at the huge underbelly of a dragon.

It glides effortlessly above them, its deep blue wings outstretched wide. She watches as it gracefully lands on the Dragon's Nest. Tears of awe gather in her eyes at its sheer size. Still, it casts a shadow over them. Its giant claws dig into the stone and it rears its head. Its sapphire scales glow in the sun and its golden eyes are bright. Then, it opens its mouth, showing the world teeth that must be three times the size of Athan.

A deep amber glow lights up the back of its throat. Then, the dragon roars to the sky, a wicked, growling scream of pure, untouchable power.