Chapter 3

Chapter Three

"H ey. Meat face."

Blearily, my eyes opened, pain assaulting my head and temples. Groaning, I sat up, and immediately banged my head off the top of the bunk bed above me.

Through tears, it all came rushing back.

I left Mother. I lived here now.

My face felt broken.

"Hey. You want this or not?"

It was the small boy from yesterday—M—awkwardly crouched at the side of my bed and holding out a small rag torn from the bottom of his hemp gown.

"Wipe yourself clean. It won't help the bruise, but you don't want to go before that bat man with blood all over your face, do you?"

I snatched the damp cloth (I wouldn't ask how M had wet it) and wiped it roughly over my face, ignoring how it stung.

Manners dictated I thank him, but it didn't feel right to say it out loud, so I simply nodded, putting my feet over the edge of the bed. All around us boys were stirring, stretching, and looking around. Heavy snoring from the bunk across and above us ensured me the large boy hadn't yet awakened.

I stuffed the rag in my pocket and hurried away.

A whistle sounded, shrieking so loudly it even woke the brute on the top bunk. I pushed M through the crowd of boys swelling in the narrow corridor, wanting to put as many other bodies between us and the large bully as I could.

"Form a line and prepare to present yourselves for breakfast." Vession stood just behind the threshold of our dormitory, flanked by two Fireguards, dark eyes already watching and observing.

Ah, so this was a test of sorts?

The other noble boys flocked together, sending suspicious glances my way. My instincts wanted to plead and bargain for acceptance into their ranks.

And yet …

They held no power here. The stench of fear wafted off these boys with their fine clothing, and I knew instinctively it wouldn't be worth my time to throw in my lot with them.

These mud boys were unruly. They were uncivilized. They were brutes responsible for the throbbing in my face.

But one of them had been kind to me, even risking his own safety by openly siding with me. What did he have to gain by doing so?

"Come."

The boys shuffled in a rough line out the door, the Nobles up front, me, M, then the rest of the mud boys. Once we crossed the threshold back into the dining hall, the line split as the boys ran to roughly the same spots they sat at yesterday for our meal.

I hesitated at the entrance, mud boys pushing past me and bumping my shoulder to get to the table as fast as possible.

"Move, runt."

Hands pushed into my back and I flew forward, smashing face-first into the stone floor.

Or I would have had not thin arms reached out and yanked me back, breaking my fall as the two of us went to the ground in a tangle of gangly limbs. The large boy laughed openly at the two of us on the ground and sat down at his table with a bunch of other mud boys.

Red faced, I stood and tried to brush the dust off my clothes.

M hopped up easily as if getting knocked on his bottom was a routine occurrence.

"B is always like that. Best to stay out of his way."

Tell him thank you. He saved your face from breaking completely. That's twice, and all before breakfast.

The words stuck in my dry mouth. Clearing my throat, I held out my hand. "Thanks."

M stared at my hand suspiciously, so I put it behind my head and smoothed my hair, as if I'd meant to do that the entire time.

"What do I call you?" M asked me.

What do I call you? He didn't ask my name. Did mud boys have names?

"Zephyr," I managed, finally remembering my manners.

His eyes lit mischievously. "Zeh-ffer. It's so long! I like it."

I supposed it was a long name when compared to ‘B' or ‘M.' Did all the mud boys go by letters? Surely, there were more of them than letters in the alphabet. I'd have to ask M later, when all eyes weren't on us.

"Come on. I can't believe they're giving us more food!"

I followed as M bounded down to a half-filled table of mud boys. Hesitating beside it, I realized a choice was being made.

If I sat down with these mud boys, I was all but declaring my allegiance to them, and confirming to the noble boys that I wasn't one of them.

I hated the thought of proving them right, and I wanted nothing to do with B or any of his ilk.

What to do?

"Zephyr?"

M's voice cut through the thick panic shrouding my pain. Dark eyes met mine, honest curiosity and concern tinged with fear. Only one other person had ever looked at me like that before: my mother.

I sat down next to M, who beamed at me.

Down the table, B made a crushing motion with his fist at me. The other mud boys eyed me up, but only for a moment before going back to their own conversations. I didn't dare look over at the noble tables.

Breakfast was much simpler than I was used to, and I was too nervous to eat much of it. I picked out bread with butter and jam and nibbled at the edges of my eggs. Mother liked hers with meat and cheese cooked in; these were only eggs themselves, with only a bit of salt.

M and the other mud boys dug in, shoveling food into their faces and moaning like it was their first proper breakfast.

With a jolt, I wondered if maybe it was.

I had a lot to learn about … everything. I vowed here and now to rectify that situation immediately. Obviously, there was more to the world than my mother's apartments. I had to leave them at some point, didn't I?

Sighing, I put more eggs on my fork.

I would need the energy.

After breakfast, Vession ordered the mud boys to go off with another noble, and told the noble boys to follow him.

I stood from the bench slowly, uncertain. Fear sat on my chest and anxiety squeezed my throat. Hovering between two choices, Vession ended my torment.

"Zephyr. Stop wasting my time and get over here."

My feet scrambled to the end of the line of noble boys. Mouthing a quick ‘I'm sorry' to M at the back of the mud boy line, I turned to face forward and followed the line out.

We left the dormitory and dining hall behind, traveling down the long corridor that connected back to the main palace. My attitude perked immediately. Was I going to get to see my mother? So soon? I had so many questions! My mind spun in circles as it cycled through all the possibilities, finally landing on the largest question of them all: why did I have dark hair like the mud boys?

Our little parade progressed further towards the center of the palace until we stopped in front of twin massive oak double doors.

My heart stopped in my chest.

Fireguards lined either side of them, their shining red and gold armor polished to a brilliant shine. Swords rattled at their sides and their spears gleamed, deadly points facing straight up at the ceiling.

No one would ever mess with them. I wanted that power.

"You are about to be presented to the queen. Behave," Vession chastised us.

He needn't have bothered. Even I knew what lay behind the double doors: the throne room.

Vession gave us a once over, his large brows furrowed together into a harsh expression. He must have approved of what he saw, because he turned back around and nodded to the Fireguards, who turned with military precision and threw the doors outwards.

I couldn't see from the back, but that was all right. I didn't want to look like a frightened child, so was thankful for the chance to compose myself at the back of the line.

We marched forward, Vession leading us straight into the throne room and towards the king and queen.

It was crowded. So much more crowded than I expected. Nobles of all shapes and sizes lined both sides of the room, leaving only the thick strip of purple carpet running down the middle for us to walk on.

I wondered if my mother was in the crowd, or was she still in our apartment? Why did she never bring me to court? There were other children in the crowd, much younger than us, staring up with wide, curious eyes.

The air was heavy with the scent of candles and incense, mixing with the throng of over one hundred bodies. There were too many people in too small a space. I couldn't breathe! I hoped I was only imaging the mutters and murmurings that followed me. It took every ounce of control to keep putting one foot in front of the other, and my gaze forward.

I felt their eyes on me.

Never in my life had I wished so desperately for a hat, or simply to just shave off all of my hair. I felt like a dark, ugly smear standing alongside the blondes, redheads, and even the light brown hair of the other boys.

Maybe a hole would open up in the middle of the floor and swallow me. Maybe they would find me lacking and dismiss me back to my mother's apartments.

Vession split the line of us as we approached the thrones, half of us going left, the other half right. At the end of the line, I ended up square in the middle, staring right up at the queen.

Her cold eyes bore into me, shining silver like my mother's jewelry. Leaning forward on her throne, her nails tapped against the wood of her arm rest.

Click. Click. Click.

"May I present this year's reaped, delayed due to the flux."

Vession bowed low, his long beard nearly touching the ground as he bent over.

"I am not used to seeing such older boys among the younger ones. It makes for an interesting crop, does it not?" The queen's voice was just as cold as her eyes, no matter how pretty she was.

And she wouldn't stop looking at me.

I hated my black hair. My hands shook, so I balled them into fists and tried to hide them at my sides.

"Just Nobles and mud boys? No boys from the other quarters? No stone, bread, or artisan?" the queen snapped.

The other quarters. Mother had mentioned them, but I knew little about them. It would be fun to meet other boys from there.

"The flux, my queen. No survivors of the appropriate ages. We shall have to wait a few years," Vession replied, bowing low.

The queen sniffed, then continued her progress.

"I see why you were eager for this," came the low, dulcet tones of the king. I raised my eyes to the throne next to the queen's, set back slightly so that the queen and king appeared the same height. Or did the queen look slightly taller? It was probably how mean she looked, whereas the king's expression was honest and open.

And his hair was black.

My lips parted in shock, and my jaw dropped slightly.

The king's hair was black .

My entire world tilted on its axis. Confusion, frustration, and anger swirled and boiled into a potent cocktail in my veins. Why was I teased for my hair when our king had black hair as well?

It made little sense. None of this made any sense.

I wanted my mother.

"I assure you, I do not know what you're talking about," replied the queen brusquely. "We knew years ago it was successful. This is just further proof it was the right decision."

What were they talking about?

The king raised an eyebrow but said nothing further, leaning back in his chair and content to let the queen run things. As he always did, I was starting to suspect.

The queen gathered her sparkling skirts and descended the dais, going to my left first and inspecting all of us.

I used the time with her attention off me to close my eyes and breathe, trying to slow my racing heart. To my left, I heard the queen asking polite questions of the boys, remarking on a fine appearance here, and lovely eyes there.

Breathe. Be yourself. In, and out.

My eyes snapped open, only to find the king's gaze lingering on me. The queen stepped between us, and I froze.

"Well, well, well. Here you are. Zephyr, is it?"

She said it so casually, as if my name didn't matter. But she knew it, didn't she? Had she called any of the other boys by name?

No, she hadn't.

I stood straighter and lifted my chin, daring myself to meet her silver stare.

My body went ramrod straight as some foreign feeling passed between us—something dangerous and powerful, like the tigers I'd read about in one of Mother's storybooks, crouching down in the grass as it waited for the perfect moment to pounce on its prey.

"You dare."

Her voice was so low I doubted anyone heard it but me. The urge to take a step was strong, but I fought it, too stubborn to back down.

Danger. Predator.

I ignored my instincts as they screamed at me to back down. Something large and powerful leered down at me, demanding I kowtow to it. The urge to refuse was enticing. The queen could order my death as easily as her next meal. What was I playing at?

My eyes flitted to the king, settling on his dark hair before going back to the queen. If he could thrive in this court, so could I.

I would not be bullied. Not by B. Not by a queen.

Tension bled from my shoulders and I shifted my gaze to stare straight ahead, away from the queen. My silence meant I couldn't give the wrong answer, but it let her know I was obedient to no one .

The tension between us thickened, warnings blaring in my head. My head grew fuzzy at the rush of defying a queen.

"Seen your mother lately?"

The noise in my head disappeared. The world sucked in around me, claustrophobic and pushing on my chest. My mouth dried, and my heart pounded against my chest. I licked my lips, but no words came out.

"I asked you a question, boy."

The left corner of her lip curled back. She was having fun.

It felt wrong to let her win. The correct answer was in my head, but I didn't like it. I didn't want it. What I said came out much louder than I'd intended.

"My mother is prettier than you."

The boys on either side of me gasped, turning their heads and openly gawping at me with open shock. The queen reared back as though I'd struck her physically. All around us, Nobles tensed. The Fireguards shifted restlessly.

Fear grabbed hold of my spine and clawed its way down to my toes.

I was so, so dead.

The queen smiled at me and leaned forward. I wished fervently she'd just shove a spear through my ribs. At least it'd be a cool way to die.

Goosebumps broke out along my arms even as sweat snaked down my back. I fought hard the urge to lean back, away from that deadly look.

"Your mother is dead."