30. Bride

When we returned to the little dormitory, Zinnia was waiting with my wedding dress.

It was a simple affair, a white version of the black dress that I wore but the sleeves were shorter, stopping at just above my elbow.

A basket of aquamarine flowers sat on the floor, their petals oddly ovular with a rippling texture, almost as if pockets of air were trapped inside.

Contrasted with the dark velvety green of the leaves and stems, though strange, they were an attractive bloom.

“And these are the abalone blossoms?”

I asked, distracting myself from their symbolism.

“Lovely,”

said Helena picking up one and smelling it.

“It smells like the sea.”

“Sounds disgusting,”

commented Mischa.

“Like fish and brine?”

“Like salt and …rock,”

Helena puzzled out.

“It’s very unusual.”

“They are for the lady’s hair,”

Zinnia explained, beaming at me.

“They are her bride crown.”

“The ceremony is after the midday meal?”

I was fighting panic.

Zinnia bobbed her head.

“Yes! And we will serve your luncheon in here.

Your friends can help you prepare and rest a bit longer.

Tomorrow your Tintarian lives begin.”

“Thank you for the respite,”

Catrin said, ever the proper lady.

“I’m sure you all have questions about keep life,”

Zinnia went on.

“I can answer any here, before the lady’s wedding.

You have had a long journey and must now adapt to Tintar.

I want to ease that adaptation.”

Despite my rising fear, I had a thought to spare that she was a considerate woman.

Peppered with questions by Maureen, River and Mischa, Zinnia replied with patience, educating us further about the Shark’s Keep.

She elaborated on the sigils carved into the corridors and how to look for a house-shaped one to exit into the city center, one of four different triangle shaped sigils for the four deities’ temples, one shaped like the shark’s tooth on all military insignia for barracks and the training yard, two shaped like a water drop for the baths, a zigzagging letter next to the men’s and a three ringed letter next to the women's.

My translation skills told me these were old Tintarian letters for male and female.

Spiraling staircases shot up through the keep to manmade turrets and watchtowers that dotted the bluff.

The Shark’s Keep and the four temples were on the right side of the large port opening in the rock we had seen where all the warships and fishing vessels had been docked.

I tried to learn all that I could as I knew it to be valuable information, but also to not think about the white dress laid out on the bed next to where I sat.

But that only lasted so long.

Soon Zinnia, still answering a particularly mundane question from River about tax collection, had stepped behind where I sat on the edge of a bed to undo my braid wrapped around my head.

Parting my hair down the middle, she gathered the pieces that grew from the top of my head to the back and pinned it.

In a circle, she began to weave the abalone blossoms around my head, all the while chattering with a fascinated River.

Helena tried to catch my eye, but I could not meet her look.

I would cry.

I knew this.

Beryl entered with a platter of bread and peaches, a pitcher of cold water and tin cups.

“Is it already that time?”

I asked.

Hours had passed without my realizing.

“It be midday,”

answered Beryl, smiling at me.

“You will look very fine in white, lady.”

“You will,”

said Helena, reaching across from the bed she sat on to clasp my hand.

“And the blossoms in this reddish-brown hair, lovely,”

added Zinnia.

She came around the bed to sit next to me.

She took my face in her hand.

Then from her leather apron, with her other hand she pulled out a small vial of something black and a very small brush.

She flicked it through my eyelashes instructing me to look up.

She took out another vial of something pink that smelled like roses and rubbed it on my cheeks and mouth.

“That she does,”

she repeated.

“The captain will think his bride to be quite comely.”

There was a silence.

Everyone ate but without the same eagerness as breaking our fast.

I declined any food.

Zinnia ushered me to stand and undo the ties on the black dress.

She helped me step into the white.

She also produced small nut-brown leather slippers, her eyes on my feet in my dirty, summer shoes, now so worn from the journey here.

“Your boots and slippers will be finished soon,”

she announced to the room.

“They will be delivered to your new dormitory by the end of the week and I think the clothes will as well.”

No one answered her directly, but there were noises of thanks.

I could feel all of their eyes on me.

From the apron, Zinnia pulled a small hand mirror and held it out to me.

I shook my head.

“I believe it time, Zinnia,”

Beryl announced, picking up the platter.

“Come, lady,”

said Zinnia, taking my hand.

“May I have an attendant?”

I said in a rush.

Zinnia and Beryl looked at each other.

“We were told only to bring you to the temple,”

Zinnia answered gently.

“Normally, a bride would have maids with her.

I am sorry.”

Helena came to sit next to me and leaned into my side, the one not next to Zinnia and said, “Kindred, we still sleep under the same roof.

We will still see each other at meals.

We remain as family.”

Mischa gave a hmm sound, holding her chin up at me, reminding me to do the same.

“There is a book and a key under my pillow,”

I whispered to Helena.

“And there is a hagstone and our little comb in my black dress pocket.

Please secure them for me?”

“Of course,”

she replied without question.

Zinnia led me back through the dining hall and I noted that it also acted as a central intersection for corridors as nearly twenty ran into it.

She pointed out the downward pointing triangle with the line through the point sigil, explaining that this led to the earth temple.

She explained that air and sea temples were on the left side of the keep and earth and fire on the right, sea and earth being the closest.

I walked beside her, my lungs not taking in enough air, blood racing.

I believed her to be a good woman and her lesson in keep geography a kindness.

We soon entered an antechamber type area with desks full of people writing and discussing.

This portion of earth’s temple was closer to the Pikestully side and the narrow windows let light in as well as the noise of the bustling city.

Lines of people clad in various dress, not of the earth clergy, were gathered around the desks, some voices raised, some people patiently waiting.

“Farmers,”

Zinnia explained.

“And timber men.

And livestock traders.

It all falls to earth.

Everyone wants their taxes lowered and their fields blessed.

I imagine Cian will give you a full introduction to it all.”

She turned to me.

“He is a good man, Edie.”

“The priest or the captain?”

I asked not looking back at her but at the hundred or so people in the room, some of them looking at me in my white dress and bridal crown.

“Both, to be truthful,”

said Zinnia.

“But I had meant the archpriest.

Your training will not be easy, but your guide is not a taskmaster.

He is so humble and gracious, especially as he is cousin to the king and his brother and third in line for the throne.

He took the archpriesthood at a young age too.

He is much blessed by the goddess.

I have no magic myself, but my family does worship in Mother Earth’s temple.

Tintar is always in need of earth magic.”

“It is?”

“Oh yes.

Air is for prophets and mystics and some of the soldiers are blessed with Brother Air’s speed and grace.

Father Fire and his temple is for forges and warmth in winter.

Sister Sea blesses us with fish and travel.

But Mother Earth gives us so much and we are a coastal people, our land is not always easy to grow from.

We need all that goddess’s blessings we can have.

I rejoice at your magic and am eager for you to learn your penchant.”

“Penchant?”

“Your propensity.

Perhaps wheat fields respond to your touch.

Or you have a handy way with tonics.

Or a knack with cattle.

Earth is the most complex.”

“I see,”

I said, absolutely not seeing.

We had reached large doors made of some kind of oak, carved with the same patterns of leaves and roots I had noticed on Cian’s robes last night.

“This is the inner temple.”

Zinnia said.

“Inside, will be Cian and the captain.

Perhaps the rest of the Procurers.

Maybe even General Jeremanthy, as he was once the captain’s mentor.

And, another friend of the captain, is the prince.

He may be there.”

“So the groom is allowed his attendants?”

I observed.

“I am sorry, lady.

Do you wish me to stay?”

“Can you?”

I begged, ashamed, at the age of thirty-eight to be so helpless.

“I would be honored,”

she replied.

I looked at her then, estimating her to be past her fiftieth winter.

She had a stricter manner but had offered us amenities, information, time to rest, and consideration.

She may be Tintarian, but I had a thought that I could trust her.

“Thank you, Zinnia,”

I gushed.

“Thank you.”

She inclined her head to a young man in the mossy earth colors.

He bowed to both of us and opened the double doors.

“Cian’s acolytes are always helpful,” she said.