Threads of Fate, page 12
“It’s okay, it really doesn’t hurt,” he said, motioning for her to continue.
Orah took a deep breath and pressed her thumb against the pointed end. She winced at the pressure, but realized he was right, no pain. She pulled her thumb away and blood began to bead. She glanced at Jes and he nodded, encouraging her to continue. She pressed her thumb into the pad and instinctively closed her eyes, afraid of what she would see. After a moment, he tapped her shoulder and she opened her eyes, gasping at the sight in front of her. The room was like something from her home. The mat at the back had been replaced by an oval track, there were free weights, weight machines, jump ropes, and even some manually powered exercise bikes. She found a puzzled expression on his face.
“This is interesting. Is this what you’re used to using at home?”
She nodded. “Well, some of it. A lot of the cardio equipment we would use is plugged into the electricity, but I’m not seeing any plugs here.”
His head cocked. “Just so you’re aware, your own assumptions and imagination are the only things that can prevent the wards from creating what you want. Maybe next time don’t think about what our world doesn’t have, but instead consider what it could.”
Surprised, she nodded her head. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I understand the importance of needing an escape.”
She glanced at the door then back at him. Her body was too tired to try anything else, but she was feeling more hopeful for what tomorrow would bring. “I think I’ll excuse myself. Thank you, again.” She made it to the door and had her hand on the handle when his voice behind her caught her attention.
“Oh—Orah?”
The tone in his voice was unfamiliar, and she turned back to face him. “Yes?”
He grinned. “I would consider taking a shower. I could smell you from outside the door.” He winked and her mouth fell open. Staring at him for a moment, she let out a laugh.
“I’ll be sure to do that right away.” She winked back at him and walked out the door. Once in the hallway, she could smell what he was referring to, and she smacked her head. While she had showered recently, she couldn’t remember how many days it had been. She turned to walk up the stairs, lost in her thoughts until she felt someone watching her. Turning, she found Roan’s study doors open and him sitting at his desk with his mouth hanging open.
She smiled and waved. “Hi.”
Snapping his mouth shut, he blinked and waved back. “Hi.”
Her face flushed, remembering her need for a shower and she ran up the stairs. Frantically, she reached her room, closing the door behind her.
Climbing into the shower, a soft sob escaped her lips when the water hit her skin. While she remembered her shower days before, she had just been going through the motions of cleaning herself. Now, it felt glorious and cleansing in a different way, as though she were forming a new layer of skin as she scrubbed her tired body. She breathed in the sweet smell of the soaps, relishing in the feeling of her fingertips scratching against the top of her head.
After rinsing off, she climbed out with a sigh, noticing the warmth beneath her feet. She didn’t remember the floor being warm after her last shower during those dark, quiet days. Wrapping up in a towel, she walked to the closet and pulled open the door, frowning a bit. She wanted to feel nice and suddenly felt she was too practical with her clothing choices. She decided wearing clean clothes was enough and she pulled out a pair of dark blue leggings and a gray loose shirt.
She dressed and returned to the bathroom and pulled the brush from the drawer. Her head was stinging, and tears lined her eyes by the time she had pulled through all the knots in her hair. She cursed herself for how long she had been in bed. It could have been worse. She reminded herself. Yes, it could have. It had been before.
Setting down the brush, she looked at herself in the mirror. Her color appeared to have returned. Her eyes still appeared hollow, but they were no longer puffy. She looked better, not fully herself, but closer.
She walked back out to the bedroom and glanced toward the open curtains. Still not ready to go outside, she remembered that she hadn’t eaten. Taking a deep breath, she decided to brave the kitchens by herself and walked to her door. Peering back into the room once more she pulled the door open and walked right into Roan’s chest.
“Fates!” he yelled, grabbing her arm so she wouldn’t fall backwards.
“I seem to have a habit of slamming into you,” she responded with a chuckle.
“I’m sorry. I wanted to wait downstairs, but I couldn’t. I was shocked to see you,” Roan replied.
Her cheeks flushed. “I was in the training room. I needed to move.”
“Yes, Jes told me after you rushed up here. Did it help?” She nodded. His lips turned up with a responding smile. “Oh good. Please feel free to use it whenever you want. Jes said you were really taking it out on the sandbag.” He chuckled, but Orah looked away. She didn’t want him to know what had caused her to lose herself in that way. He suddenly released the arm she had forgotten he was holding and cleared his throat, taking a step back. “I’m really glad to see you out of your room, Orah.”
"Me too.” Her stomach rumbled loudly, and Roan looked her up and down with amusement on his face. His smile widened and he laughed loudly. She stared down at herself, unable to stop her own laugh. “Oh my god.” She was sure she was going to drop dead from embarrassment.
“Are you hungry, Orah?”
“Oh, shut up!” She covered her face with her hands but laughed harder. After a moment of them laughing, she calmed herself. “I am actually very hungry. I was just about to head to the kitchen.”
Roan stepped out of her way, motioning to the stairs. “Well, I’m not going to stop you.”
They walked next to each other silently. She wasn’t sure how to start a conversation and based on Roan’s silence, it felt as though he was thinking the same thing. They got to the bottom of the stairs and he glanced over at his study. “I’m afraid this is where I leave you. I have to finish what I was working on and head back into the city.”
She felt an odd sense of disappointment realizing he wouldn’t accompany her to the kitchen, but she nodded. “I understand.”
He gave her a sad sort of smile as he walked into his study and she turned down the hall. Before she got to the kitchen she stopped and glimpsed behind her, where she found him looking at her. She couldn’t pull her eyes from him and the intense gaze he held. It was as though he were trying to find something hidden inside of her, perhaps the edges of the mask she always kept on. Finally, his eyes pulled from hers and he turned to close his study door. Her shoulders sagged with relief, and she fanned herself.
Her stomach rumbled again loudly as though questioning why she was standing outside the kitchen and not going in. Sounds of lively chatter could be heard behind the closed door. Orah hoped she wouldn’t be interrupting anyone’s day, but took a deep breath for confidence, and pushed open the door.
The conversation in the room stopped the moment she walked in. Yohan, Xade, and Clarah all appeared as if they had been frozen in place.
Orah smiled and raised her hand in a small wave. “Hello, I don’t think we’ve all been properly introduced. I’m Orah.”
Yohan gawked at his children and then back at her before clearing his throat. His accent was thick and heavy, reminding Orah of an autumn evening and a warm bowl of soup. “Hello Orah, how can we help you?”
Her hand fidgeted with the ring on her pinky while she nervously observed the room. It appeared that they were in the middle of preparing lunch, and suddenly felt as though she was intruding. She smiled at Xade and Clarah, whose fingers were unmoving in the dough they were kneading. She could smell whatever Yohan was cooking at the stove in front of her. Her chest tightened. Turning back to Yohan she found him staring at her with his eyebrow raised.
“I was just wondering if I could possibly scrounge around in here and feed myself quickly? I believe I may have slept through breakfast.”
Xade and Clarah gaped at Yohan, who stepped forward, wiping his hands on his apron. “We’re in the middle of preparing lunch. Should be done soon but if you can’t wait until then I can grab a few things for you.”
“I can grab it. I don’t want to interrupt you. Whatever you’re cooking smells fantastic.”
Yohan smiled and approached her. “It’s really no bother. Just a small break from work.”
Orah peeked at Xade and Clarah who were kneading their dough again—but probably a bit too aggressively from her observation—when an idea struck her. She needed to feel useful, needed to feel as though there was a reason to get up every day. “Can I help you with your work?”
Yohan coughed and stepped back. “I—well—I couldn’t ask you to do that Miss.”
“You’re not. I’m the one asking.”
“But we’re the kitchen help, not the guests.” He peered out the door as if expecting someone to come through and reprimand them for having such a conversation.
“Please, Yohan. I’m not anyone special. I’ve been cooking for myself since I was nine years old. I know my way around a kitchen. I just want to be useful.” He looked nervously at the door again and then back at her. He must have seen the desperation she knew was on her face because he nodded slightly. Breathing out a sigh of relief, she rushed to grab an apron from the wall across from her.
“Where can I start?” she asked while tying it around herself.
Yohan chuckled, and motioned to a bucket near the sink. “How about potatoes?”
Chapter 12
Roan stared at the wall in front of him. He could barely focus on the conversation happening in the room. The knowledge that Orah was back at the house right now and out of her room consumed his every thought. “I should have just stayed home,” he mumbled to himself.
“My Lord?” Roan jumped and found one of his city officials looking at him a bit confused.
“Yes?”
“You said something?” Roan surveyed the room and ran his hand through his hair, realizing he had been lost in his thoughts and not paying attention to what was being said. His officials from the cities and towns in his Region had gathered in Iluna to discuss the details of his grand celebration. He must have interrupted someone based on the way they were all staring at him.
“Sorry, Thomas. I was a bit lost in my thoughts.” He observed his officials, unsure of who had been speaking. “Please continue.”
Thomas nodded. “As we have been discussing, we must decide the location of His Lord’s three hundredth celebration.”
Roan’s eyes fell to the table; he had only been the Governing God for fifty years, and mundane party planning was not what he had expected. His upcoming party was supposed to be a celebration, but it now felt like a timer counting down to the challenge. While the Fates announced the challenge would happen after his birthday, he wasn’t sure how soon after the celebration they would require it to start.
Glancing back at his officials, he found them all staring at him again. Thomas raised his eyebrow and motioned with his hand. “My Lord?” Thomas sounded irritated, but Roan didn’t care. They had been the ones that forced this meeting, insisting the location of the party was significant.
“Yes, Thomas?”
“We asked if you had any preference for where the party is held.”
Roan cleared his throat and thought for a moment. “Why wouldn’t we just host it at my home?”
“Well, My Lord, don’t you think we’d want to have it somewhere… larger?”
Roan rolled his eyes. His home was plenty large, but his officials wanted him to consider reopening his Uncle’s old palace outside of Iluna. Him living and residing in the manor on the hill was considered abnormal for a Governing God. The Governing Gods usually liked to observe their main city from afar, like an omen in the distance warning the people not to misbehave.
“My home is perfectly capable of hosting a large number of people, Thomas.”
Thomas sighed and surveyed the room. The other officials nodded their heads. They all knew Roan was right. They were also aware he did not want to spare the resources and time needed to prepare the palace for a party that would only last one night. It was both illogical and a waste.
Pushing his chair behind him, Roan stood. Every official jumped to their feet and bowed their heads. Roan suppressed his responding chuckle. They were all worried about upsetting him. They loved him, yes. They appreciated the attention, time, and respect he had given the Region, but they also feared who they believed he would become. That any wrongdoing would put them on his shortlist to the darkest depths of Shadus and the monsters lurking there.
That’s not even how it works.
“It’s decided then. The party will be held at my home in the manor. We can discuss the details of who will attend. Every Governing God is invited of course, but I believe we should consider other Gods, Godlings, and even some important mortals.”
Thomas responded, unable to disguise his shock. “Mortals, My Lord?”
“Yes, Thomas—mortals. There are many of them that have built something of themselves amongst their kind and it would be significant to at least send them an invitation.” Roan always felt this was the most frustrating thing about Gods and Godlings; they assumed mortals weren’t important. Because of the differences in power, they believed they shouldn’t give mortals a second thought. They seemed to forget that many of the wealthy and well-known mortals ran their trade routes, produced their wines, and fabricated the clothes on their backs.
Thomas bowed his head. “If that is what your Lordship wishes then we will be sure to gather a list for you to review.”
“Thank you. You’re all dismissed.”
He waved his hand and his officials bowed before walking out the door, leaving him alone in his offices in the city center. He hadn’t done much with them since taking over the Region, but his officials were used to holding business there. He preferred to allow his officials to run their own cities and towns themselves and act as a guiding hand, but that wasn’t how his uncle had done things. He had ruled Nacht and no official made a change in their city without his approval. But Roan had no desire to rule like that. While his uncle wasn’t a hard man, he made sure that image of himself was kept. Which was amusing to Roan; he knew who his uncle really was, he couldn’t hide from Roan.
Roan turned at the sound of footsteps approaching the room and watched as the door opened. Jes walked casually into the room, sitting down at the table, and laying his feet on top of it. His wings slipped between the large gaps on both sides of the chair, designed specifically for the winged citizens in his Region in mind.
“How did it go?” Jes asked.
Roan sat back down. “As well as you’d expect. They want me to reopen Aeron’s palace for the party.”
Jes rolled his eyes. “They really are obsessed with that crusty old place.”
Roan snorted. “Yes, they are. Aeron did a good job making it a place of significance for everyone here, especially those here in the city.”
Leaning back a bit more into the chair, Jes sighed. “I think Aeron did a little too good of a job with that.”
“I’d have to agree,” Roan replied.
“Did she really seem okay when you found her in the training room?” Roan asked quietly.
“I mean. I think as okay as you can expect. Like I told you earlier, she was beating the sandbag so hard I thought she was going to knock it from the ceiling, but I think she’ll be fine.” Roan had to trust Jes. He had an odd ability to know what was going on with someone without them having to tell him.
“I feel so much guilt, Jes.”
“Why?”
“She’s here because of me. She had that awful interaction with Marek because I insisted she stay downstairs. I know almost nothing about this woman, but I just feel so much guilt. That, and I feel like I’ve prevented myself from even having a chance of getting to know her.”
“One—you’re not the reason she’s here. We don’t know why she’s here. You may be the reason why she’s staying in the manor, but you didn’t pull her from her world. Two—you were only trying to protect her. You made a mistake, but you can come back from that. And three—” He stopped for a moment and grinned at Roan. “How much are you hoping to get to know her?”
Roan didn’t respond; that was the real question. How much was he hoping to get to know her? She was this intriguing mortal woman who had literally walked right into his life. He had walked through her memories, he had felt some of her pain, but he knew nothing about her.
Despite that, he could feel this tug like a thread between the two of them, pulling on him to learn more. He was embarrassed thinking back to how he had rushed up the stairs after seeing her outside his study. He hadn’t intended to run up there, but it had been as though his feet pulled him upstairs without his control.
Jes’s expression shifted from amusement to concern. “Roan?”
Roan cleared his throat. “I don’t know how much I want to get to know her, Jes. There’s just something about her that makes me feel as if I’ve known her all my life.”
Jes stared for a moment and leaned forward placing his arms on the table. “I don’t know where she came from. I don’t know why she’s here. I don’t know how she has the power she does. Fates, I don’t even know why you feel this pull to her. But I think she’s probably worth knowing.”
Roan blinked. Out of anything he could have expected Jes to say, it wasn’t that. “Where do I even start?”
“Fates, Roan. You would think we were young again and you were asking for advice on how to approach a girl. It’s not complicated. She’s literally living in your house. Just spend time with her.” Jes laughed.
Roan knew he was being ridiculous. It wasn’t as though he had never spent any time with a woman and didn’t know how to interact with them. He was usually fairly confident in himself when it came to women, but he felt off balance around Orah. Not in a bad way, but it was unexpected.
