Also, I realize it's kind of long. I'm going to try and break the chapters up into parts to make it more bearable.
Anyway, that's enough of my ramblings. Enjoy.
Chapter One
“Adya.”
Adya’s eyes opened quickly, a loud ragged gasp escaping her lips as she looked in surprise around the room. She half expected him to be there, the King, staring down at her with purple eyes full of greed. But everything looked the same as always. Lira, her older sister, was lying beside her on their small bed, the fire was crackling happily in the fireplace, and Kari, her younger sister, was sleeping peacefully in her mother’s bed. The grey walls of their tiny one room house looked as dim and hopeless as ever. Her little home looked the same as it always did.
Her father was still gone, never to return.
Adya’s breathing was ragged and short; it came in quick spurts. She closed her eyes, trying to banish the dream of a memory, only to discover that she could see the King’s purple eyes winking at her, hear his breathing in her ear whispering the same four words. Her eyes opened again, and she frantically began searching for the soothing, familiar face of her mother.
“Adya.” Her mother was leaning over her, eyes full of worry and concern. She was beautiful with hair as dark as soot and eyes the same color as the night sky. She was tall and slender, but Adya could see the miniscule details, hinting at exhaustion and overwork. Wrinkles crowded her forehead of once smooth skin, and her shoulders slumped constantly, as if someone had place a very heavy sack on her back. Her dress was rumpled, something that would have been uncharacteristic of her mother three years ago.
Remembering the tall, proud woman her mother used to be made Adya feel like crying.
“You and your sister must get up,” her mother said as she walked over to the fireplace to stir breakfast. “These clothes need to be finished by midday.”
Adya shook Lira awake, and got out of bed, the feeling of fear and unease still jumbling around inside her. She took her time changing into her cotton dress— dark red with a golden embroidery around the neckline which she had done herself—and washing her face. She used the time to calm herself, to tuck the memory of that awful night safely away in the back of her mind. By the time she went to sit by the window the fear and unease were almost gone. All that was left was the little hole in her heart, something Adya hadn’t discovered how to repress yet.
To dispel the nightmare further, Adya pulled back the curtain and gazed out at the city of Eitan. The window faced to the east, faced the Tiergan Mountains which stood tall and regal in the distance. Every day Adya marveled at the sheer height of the mountains and how much land they covered. They not only ran through the entire eastern length of Alastair, they also ran far up north into the country of Naiara. She could hardly believe there could be so much of a beautiful thing. Truly beautiful, unselfish things, were so hard to come across. What made it even more breathtaking was the sun rising slowly behind the giant mass. The Tiergan Mountains were more of a crystal than a rock. Adya had never seen anything else like it. The very tips of the mountains were almost translucent, but the rest of the mountain was purple, a dark, deep purple. But when the sun hit the mountains, emerald green veins could be seen running jagged through the middle of the mountain.
Right now the sun was hidden behind the mountain, but Adya could tell where it was, because it was shining through the mountain. She smiled as she saw the familiar emerald and purple combination that she knew and loved so well.
A cool fall breeze blew through the window, carrying the sweet scent of fallen leaves. No trees grew on the Tiergan Mountains, but they surrounded the city and grew tall thanks to water from the Eron river. Adya sighed contentedly, breathing the musky scent in heavily, and let her gaze wander down one of the emerald veins until she saw the grey city wall. It stood fifty feet high, and ten feet thick, surrounding Eitan. The wall was meant for protection, but it felt more like a giant cage. The King was very paranoid about his safety.
‘He probably has many skeletons in his closet.’ She swallowed hard, and shut the curtain. ‘Like my father. . .’
She shook her head and closed her eyes. Now she had to go through the whole calming process over again.
After another few minutes Adya opened her eyes and grabbed a dress from the huge stack on their table. There was still a huge lump in her throat, but she could work around that. She examined the dress, trying to find the flaw which had made the King send it here. Adya’s mother was the official seamstress for the King, and he sent many dresses and pants and shirts over; far too much to be handled by Adya’s mother alone. So Adya and Lira helped by patching holes and sometimes doing embroidery while their mother made more clothes for the King and his women.
Her mother hadn’t always been the King’s seamstress, hadn’t always been at the King’s beck and call. She used to make things to sell at Eitan’s market: sweaters, dresses, pants, shirts—basically anything that could be sewn. On occasion she sold to the King, but was never his exclusive seamstress. Then one day three years ago, a messenger from the King came, saying that her mother was requested at the palace. Ever since that day Adya’s mother could only work for the King.
What Adya thought was interesting about the whole thing was that the calling had come one painfully long week after her father’s ‘disappearance’.
But her family did not know that. They knew nothing of what happened that night, nor could they ever find out the truth. Adya had no doubt that the King would not hesitate to make the rest of her family disappear if she told anyone what happened to her father.
Her mother and sister had been confused when Adya so vehemently begged them not to take the job. They thought that her father had left them, walked out. But Adya knew the truth of it all. She knew that the King had stolen their father, and was now demanding service from his family.
Since her trained eye couldn’t see anything wrong with the dress in her hand, Adya assumed it just needed more embellishment. The dress was a pale blue color, so she decided to put some light, pale green decorative stitching on the hem and neck.
She began working, trying to keep her mind focused. But a sudden, soundless movement to her left made her jump, and she pricked her finger on her needle.
“Lira!” she shrieked, her hand flying to her chest where she felt her heart racing. “Goodness, give me a little warning, would you?”
Lira gave her dark green eyes an annoyed roll, then sat down beside her younger sister. She snatched a white dress shirt with a tear in the shoulder from off the table and hunched over it. Her dark brown hair was tangled and unkempt so it fell into her face, masking her dark green eyes. With a scowl she tucked it behind her ear, only to have it fall into her lap again as she began patching the shirt. Adya had to laugh at the expression on Lira’s face. Lira wasn’t much of a morning person.
“What’s so funny?” she grumbled, tucking her hair behind her ear again.
“You,” Adya replied, a wide grin spread across her face. She grabbed a long, thin piece of fabric from the matted dirt floor and handed it to her older sister. “Here. Tie your hair up.”
Once Lira had begrudgingly tied her hair up, she and Adya spent the better part of the morning working, embroidering intricate patterns and stitching, while their mother made clothing. Kari just sat contentedly on the floor, chewing on a doll. The little angel looked like a doll herself. She had a thick head of dark hair—just like her mother and Lira—and almond eyes. Adya was the only one who had inherited any of her father’s features.
Adya stood up and stretched. Her back ached from sitting in the same position for so long. She pulled back the curtain to gaze out the window some more. The sun was fully out now, casting light on the mountain from a different angle than before, bringing out more brilliant shades of purple and green.
“It’s a beautiful day outside,” she commented while staring at the Tiergan Mountains. The sun was shining, and a breeze was tickling its way onto Adya’s cheek. She loved fall. It was the perfect mixture of summer and winter. Fall carried with it the cold clarity of winter, but the bright joy of summer.
“Hmmm,” her mother mumbled picking Kari up from the floor for her afternoon feeding. “Yes. You’d better take what we’ve finished over to the palace.”
Adya froze. She did not usually deliver to the palace. That was Lira’s job. “Me?” she asked, startled.
“Yes. Lira and I have some business to attend to.”
Adya’s breaths quickened out of sheer panic. For the past three years she had avoided being within a hundred yards of the palace. She couldn’t go there. It would be suicide, throwing herself into the lion’s den. ‘Suicide would be better!’
“Well then, can’t you take it?” she asked, panicked.
Her mother looked at her as if Adya had just yelled profanities through the city streets. “Our business is with some of the folks who live by the wall, nowhere near the palace.”
Adya’s breathing quickened even more and grasping at straws she choked out, “But what about Kari? Someone has to watch her.”
Her mother looked at her curiously for a moment before answering. “Don’t worry darling. We’re taking Kari with us,” she replied reassuringly.
She was out of excuses. All the mending and sewing was done, and the house was as clean as it was ever going to be. Slowly, her right hand found its way to her neck while the left wound itself around her waist. She stood there for a moment, hugging herself, cradling herself.
“Alright.” Her whisper of surrender was barely audible.
Adya was startled to hear Lira snort. “Goodness, you’d think we were sending her off to the gallows or something rather than to the palace to deliver clothing.”
‘The gallows would be preferable over this,’ Adya thought, glaring at her sister.
“Adya my dear, the clothes need to be delivered by midday.” Her mother talked as if neither Adya nor Lira had spoken. “You remember where to deliver them, don’t you?”
Adya stared at her mother, trying not to look as disgusted as she felt. Finally she nodded slowly, and then quietly repeated the directions. “Straight through the front gate, into the foyer. Fifth door on the left. . .”
“Good. Well then, we’re off. We should be home before dusk, but if not you should start dinner,” her mother said, walking towards the door, Lira following closely behind.
“Alright. Goodbye.” She half-heartedly tried to hide the sadness in her voice.
As soon as their mother’s back was turned, Lira—who was wearing a dress exactly like Adya’s, only green—eyed her significantly. Adya’s brow furrowed in confusion. Her sister rolled her eyes and pointed to their straw mattress.
“Under the bed,” Lira mouthed, not a sound escaping her lips.
Adya stared blankly at her sister.
“Lira, come on.” Their mother’s voice floated through the door.
“Coming!” Lira said, jabbing a finger at the bed once more, and then turned out into the street, shutting the door behind her. It slammed shut with a finality that made Adya cringe. She had to go deliver dresses to the palace. There was no way around it. And now, on top of it, there was Lira’s little surprise.
Adya groaned as she walked the five steps to her and her sister’s bed. Warily she lifted the mattress.
“Ugh. Lira!” she groaned once more. Underneath the mattress was a lavishly embroidered handkerchief.
“Lira,” Adya spoke to the empty room, “Why can’t you just be obedient!” Then she mumbled under her breath, “That’s what always gets you in trouble, your defiance!”
Their mother had been very clear. Neither her, nor her children were to sell anything at the market. The King did not want any peasants wearing things made by his seamstress or her family.
Adya glowered at the cloth in her hand. This tiny handkerchief was breaking that rule. Her sister obviously wanted Adya to sell it at the market on her way to the palace. She knew that Lira always did stuff like this when she was delivering to the palace. But today it was Adya on the line, and Adya had so much more to lose than Lira.
Still, even through her anger she couldn’t help but admire it. Lira had obviously spent a lot of time crafting this. On a corner of the cloth Lira had embroidered the Tiergan Mountains, every detail perfect. The thread she had used was sparkling purple, and Adya felt like she was staring out the window again as she looked at the artwork.
She sighed. It was beautiful, but illegal.
“Lira,” Adya moaned. She was torn. Lira did not find much happiness in Eitan, but one thing that did make her happy, one thing that gave her a thrill, was selling in the market. Apparently breaking the rules gave her a rush. To Adya it just seemed pointless and annoying. Bad things happened to people who broke rules.
“Please Adya!” she heard Lira’s voice in her mind. This is how she would beg if she were here. “Please, please, please, please!”
“Fine!” Adya threw her hands up in defeat. “I’ll do your dirty work.”
She got up from off the matted dirt floor and went to get the bag the clothes were usually delivered in. Slowly, Adya stuffed the dresses, pants, and shirts into the large leather bag. After a few minutes of stuffing, all that was left on the kitchen table was the handkerchief. Before placing it in the bag Adya couldn’t help but look over her shoulder a couple of times to make sure no one was watching.
‘Better safe than sorry,’ she told herself as she slung the bag around her shoulder and walked out the front door.
The name of the book caught my attention and I love your description it's really beautiful (especially the mountains) I agree with you about how long it is but other than that I really liked it 
