Young Writers Society

a/n: hey, thanks for checking out Starry Veins! This is the novel I wrote for Round V of LMS, and it's still a first draft! While I don't discourage any feedback, I prefer not to receive feedback on grammar! I'm not polishing this draft up yet, so I'm not as concerned about editing. I am, of course, open to all feedback, but I ask that you keep this in consideration! Thanks <3

*

The smell of rosemary and eucalyptus rose as the steam curled off the milky bathwater.

Eydís leaned back until her head and face were submerged in the water, holding her nose plugged with one hand. The heat was almost overwhelming for a moment, until she adjusted, and by then she was already resurfacing and inhaling deeply. The oils that filled the bath and those that sat, diffusing into the air, filled her nose.

She opened her eyes and scooted until her back was against the raised end of the tub. The candles lining the walls cast dusky illumination over the room in quiet yellow flickers.

Petals floated on the water around her, exports from the Viridian Isles. These were pale orange and bright purple, soaking into the water and staining it ever so gently. She favoured these most, they cleared her skin and softened it more than anything else she had ever tried.

“I was thinking of putting the diamond netting on for today?” Marsey suggested.

Eydís felt Marsey’s hand dip into the water and her nails scrape gently against the back of her neck, collecting a handful of Eydís’ hair. Marsey wrung it out. The water dripped over Eydís shoulders, out of the water, a little chillier than the water she was sunk into.

“Do the rose clasp,” Eydís said. “I don’t want this lord to think I’m trying to look fancy for him.”

Marsey laughed quietly, and ran her fingers through Eydís hair, chasing out the first knots. “I doubt this lord you’re going to meet is so bad,” she said. She stopped her ministrations to Eydís hair for a moment, before returning with a comb, with she dragged through ever so carefully. Eydís shut her eyes holding herself still but relaxed as Marsey worked. “He can’t be. It takes a man of great mettle to even suggest courting the Queen.”

Eydís groaned and rolled her shoulder. She held a tension there she disliked. “Rub my shoulders, after you’ve finished with my hair,” she said, and opened her eyes. She frowned. “He’s not so great, just some froofy lord from the floating sky palace. I’d rather spend a week in my lessons all day than meet him.”

“I’m sure he’s hardly that bad. You haven’t even met him.”

She harrumphed and leaned back again. “Maybe not, but I can have an opinion of him since he’s got eyes for my mum. If she marries him, maybe I’ll see if the apothecary would accept a royal apprentice.”

The comb caught on a knot and tugged on Eydís’ hair. She wrinkled her nose.

“You can’t poison your mother’s suitor, my lady,” Marsey said.

The comb clattered as it was set aside, and Marsey’s fingers dug into Eydís scalp, massaging underneath her swaths of red hair. Eydís sighed, closing her eyes once more, and leaned into the touch. “No. I suppose that would be dreadfully messy?”

“Quite so, princess.”

Marsey also helped drive some of the knots of out her shoulder, before she went through Eydís wardrobe and chose something flattering, but not exquisite. She allowed Marsey to poke at her for a while as she waited, trying not to wiggle with impatience. Marsey pulled her hair back and clasped it with the copper rose Eydís favoured for most days. She covered Eydís’ eyelids in a light dusting of a gold glimmer and swiped some pale pink paint over her lips.

“There you are, my lady,” Marsey said, stepping away from her after the finishing touches were complete. “As stunning as always, of course.”

“Thank you, Marsey,” Eydís said, twisting the ends of her hair that fell to her waist with her fingers. Her lace, lilac sleeves dripped off her arms and fell to her knees. “I expect I’ll see you after the envoy.”

Her handmaiden dipped her chin, a smile tugging her lips. “I wish you all the luck in your meeting today.”

Eydís turned and swept out towards the door. She could hear the coy tones in Marsey’s voice but, then again, that was part of the reason she appreciated Marsey’s presence.

The dark jade stone carved walls were warm and trapped the bright glow of the phosphorescent ribbons lining the walls in the closed quarters. It highlighted the velvety bodice and skirt of her dress. The click of her heels rang out against the floor.

She found her mother waiting, as she had promised, in the chamber that opened from the royal wing hallways.

Her mother met her halfway across the chamber and reached to straighten Eydís’ lace neckline. The Queen was as beautiful as she always was—Eydís wished she had gotten more than her mother’s flaming hair, which she hadn’t even gotten any of the abundant curls from.

But even with her glistening emerald dress and silken, flowing skirts, her mother was not nearly as dressed up as Eydís had seen her. Her curls were set around her silver and diamond crown, highlighting the pale jewels, but it was still done up in a fashion that had its time in the limelight a year passed. And her mother had hated it.

Her mother, who had already met this airy sky lord, was not impressed by him either.

Eydís smiled.

“Don’t look smug, my ruby, it’s unbecoming.” Her mother nodded approvingly at how she had set Eydís’ neckline.

“He’s not even a part of the royal family,” she said, as they marched towards the door that led into the antechamber where their guests awaited them. “Is all this fanfare necessary?”

Her mother slowed a beat, likely so as not to meet the door so soon. “Of course not. But this is Chromium, not a slum. Those who come should know where they are.” Her mother sniffed distastefully. “Besides, he has Queen Juliette’s favour, for what that is worth. And let this be a lesson for you. Observe, make nice, be the charming and lovely young princess of Chromium that they expect of you. It is good practise.”

She said no more, now that they were just beneath the door. She eyed the solitary, greenstone gargoyle. It sat utterly still atop the doorframe, its claws curling over the top. Its topaz eyes glittered, and though it was impossible to tell where a gargoyle was looking, she always felt watched.

Eydís shivered and averted her gaze. There was something in their presence that made her feel out of place, and if it were not for their “practical uses”, she would have asked her mother to get rid of them.

The door opened under her mother’s hand and Eydís followed her at a slower pace, letting her heels almost drag against the floor. Her stomach knotted. Of all the things to happen, of course it was some guy wanting to have her mum.

There were three people in the room. Two were donned in polished, silvery armour. There was a jewel in each of their sword hilts that changed colour as they moved in the light. Eydís didn’t recognise the jewel but made a note to find some to have jewellery made from.

The last one must be the lord. He had darker skin than both she and her mother, with wrinkles around his eyes and forehead. His black hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and he wore a navy patterned suit, with a white cravat and sleek, black leather boots. His cheeks were slightly reddened.

He bowed deeply as she and her mother entered, as did his accompaniments.

“Your Majesty,” he said, rising. He approached her mother first, and waited until she offered her hand, which she did so after a pause. He bent to kiss her knuckles lined with gemstone rings.

“Welcome back to Chromium, Lord Janvier,” her mother said. “I hope you business in Heaven’s Keep went well.”

Lord Janvier smiled. “Very well.” Then he turned to Eydís.

She stiffened as he approached her. There was no chance in any life she wanted this man as the new King, or worse, her stepfather.

“This little rose must be the Princess Eydís,” Lord Janvier smiled at her now.

She frowned as she offered her hand. She was still a princess, and princesses had to be polite. “How nice it is to meet you,” she said. Her mouth tasted like lemons.

Lord Janvier pressed his lips to the back of her hand and she wished she could wriggle away. “If it so pleases Your Highness, you may call me Claude. We are to be familiar, after all.”

Eydís pulled her hand away. She eyed her mother from the corner of her gaze. Her mother was watching Lord Janvier with pursed lips.

“I hope you enjoy your stay in Chromium, Lord Janvier,” Eydís said sweetly.

And she took no small amount of joy in watching his expression, his smile, falter for a moment.

* * *

“I don’t like him.”

To Eydís’ credit, she waited until after dinner was finished before she brought it up. Miss Maud would say it was “an improvement” to her “usual impatience”.

Her mother, beside her at the head of the dining table, put her silver goblet down with a decisive thud. “Marriage for nobility and rulers is never for love,” her mother said. “He is in somewhat close confidence of Queen Juliette, which means improved trade and relations. Hasn’t Maud explained any of this to you?”

Despite having no more food, Eydís wielded her fork and poked at the ivory inlay on her plate. “She has, but I didn’t say anything about love. I don’t even like him, mum.”

Her mother watched her without even blinking. Eydís stared at the table.

“Do you dislike the idea of me marrying him for any practical reason, or do you just dislike that he could, one day, be your stepfather?”

“Both,” Eydís mumbled.

Her mother sipped the wine from her goblet. “This is not your decision, my little ruby.”

Silence descended on the hall as their plates and silverware were ushered away. Marsey and one of the cook’s apprentices brought out dishes of something that looked vaguely soup-like, with a toasted, golden-brown layer that floated on top. It smelled of cinnamon and caramel. Marsey offered her a smile when she set Eydís’ dessert down.

As Marsey and the cook’s apprentice left, she reached for her spoon. Before she had put the first bite in her mouth, her mother said, “You’ve heard that Queen Nayeli has sent soldiers to Glacier’s Keep to help find their missing trueblood child?”

She reluctantly set her spoon back in the dish. Her mother’s tone forewarned a lecture. “Yes.”

“Tell me why this is not a good thing.”

Eydís frowned. She had not regarded the new as a particularly good or bad thing. She quickly began to conjure reasons it was the latter. She was the princess, after all, she needed to know these things. “Because Summermount was accused of stealing the child in the first place?”

Her mother sighed and Eydís knew she had said the wrong thing.

“Summermount and Glacier’s Keep have been in conflict with each other since before you were even alive. Their constant strife has allowed kingdoms, ours and Heaven’s Keep, to prosper and focus on advancing and innovating out culture, our societies, and our technologies. We have fewer competitors to achieve our goals. War means the depletion of resources, which is why we have had so much more economy, success, and luxury, particularly during the Bloody War. But now they’re playing nice with each other. The tension from their conflict will have to fall somewhere, if they form an alliance, and it cannot fall here. I will not have this city sink as low as to fall to war.”

Eydís stared at her dessert, beginning to go cold. The room, the size of which she usually loved, now felt too big.

“But I thought we wanted resources from Glacier’s Keep too. And King Manu’s signature, for the Windfall Project.” Maybe she could get something right.

Her mother nodded solemnly, which was much better than her disappointment. “Yes. And I very much doubt he or Queen Aisha will want construction obscuring their path if they end up in another dispute. Or finished trams, even, to speed the delivery of enemy troops from Summermount. So we cannot hope for their war, but nor can we idle around for their alliance.”

Eydís swirled the spoon around in the bowl. It clinked against the sides. “What if you came to an accord? If Glacier’s Keep sends resources and labourers, to help with construction, they’ll get first access to the trams when they’re functioning. Station guards to make sure only those who qualify can ride.”

This time, her mother tapped her fingers against the glossy table. Her painted nails caught the pale light from the chandelier in a splay of colour. Her mother was actually thinking about what she had said!

“Not a terrible idea, though there’s no guarantee they’ll agree considering how they’ve stonewalled us so far. Or that Summermount couldn’t, with a display of force, seize control of a tram. It would also side us in a war, which I would avoid at all cost. But I will consider your input. We’ll see if anything may come of it, or get those hotbloods to reconsider dealing with us.” Her mother smiled.

Eydís did as well, and finally took a moment for a bite of her dessert, feeling reasonably accomplished and clever.

The dish was caramelly and sweet, and it melted warmly in her mouth.

word count:

2,255