Page 59 of Of Shadows and Blood

My hands tighten around the skirt of my dress as I gulp my discomfort down. It doesn’t help that the air is thick with humidity. Swallowing my uncertainty and discomfort feels like trying to force stones down.

The window slider behind Cedric’s head opens and the driver announces, “Arriving soon, Your Majesty. Border is up ahead.”

“Thank you, Giles,” Cedric says, his head leaning to the opening. Turning back, his gaze lingers once again and a sort of knowing flashes across his eyes. As if he is aware of the well of emotions running their courses through my veins. As if he can very well read my thoughts.

I can thankfully say that wearing less today has proven more useful than I expected. Leaving behind Lux’s frigid temperatures and emerging into a humid climate was the best thing the maid could have done for me. The heat from my old home beckons me as soon as this new sun graces my skin again.

“Duresden is seated on the southernmost coast of the continent,” Garreth murmurs when he notes my fanning. “It wraps up the west coast so Lux has no natural warm water ports. Its castle, Juris, is perched on the edge of the ocean.” I look out of the window and up to see the structure high above. It overlooks raging waters bedecked by fishing boats of all sizes. Birds fly overhead, making their presence known by squawking high above the carriage as we ride past the city that lies below the castle.

“Shut the windows,” Cedric orders.

The white stone entrance into the guarded city does nothing to hide the reality behind its gates. The homes we pass are not homes at all. Shacks at best, surrounded by livestock and mud. Discarded shoes and belongings are submerged deep in the squalor bordering the road. I’ve known poverty, but this is destitute and painful. The stench wafting through the cracks of the carriage is horrendous, something like feces and rot.

I raise my hand up to my mouth and then trade it for the top layer of my gown, hoping the fabric can filter it.

“Their king allows this? This life for his people?” I question, holding the bile in my throat. Townspeople occasionally wait outside their shacks to wave to the carriage, or to ignore it completely as they move about their dwellings. I wave back, smiling softly to a child barely as tall as the wheel of our ride. The soot upon her clothing, her hair, it nearly forces me to look away. Nevertheless, I stay and wave. To be rejected for a situation out of one’s control is devastating to the soul – something I know far too well.

Cedric shifts uncomfortably. “These are not his people, Liv.” What else would they be? We pass through the muddy road and onto a paved one, winding to the stone edifice before us.

“King Rolan is a terror,” Avonde speaks up.

Garreth nods and continues for the sorceress, “They are his livestock.”

My stomach tumbles over itself. Livestock back home meant cows, pigs, chicken and goats. But people…

“I don’t follow,” I say, trying to goad them for more information. The most that I know is there are cess, vampyrs and humans. And those, I understand, who fall somewhere between.

“Rolan keeps his feeders squatting in small settlements such as what you witnessed behind us,” Cedric said, brows furrowing as if he too can’t stomach the idea. “They have no rights, no organization and no right to an audience with their king. To Rolan, humans – er, feeders – are scum. He leeches them for what they provide for our sustenance.”

“How is that allowed?”

“The continent is unified through the High Council, who decides on a sort of democratic set of rules. The five kingdoms all operate pretty similarly but they can institute policies of their own as long as they don’t completely go against the main codes.”

“What are the main codes?”

Cedric spreads his fingers to count them off. “One: cess are not citizens of any kingdom; they are independent. Two: the three parts of our populations must be given equality in all things. Housing, nutrition, rights. And three: kingdoms in the unified council may not wage war against one another.”

“Duresden is in direct violation of the second rule,” Gareth sighs.

“So, he is not in the High Council? Why are we visiting him, playing niceties?”

“It’s complicated,” Cedric begins. “Rolan has only been king for three years. His father, the old king, was no better but many suspect Rolan of patricide, among other things. The feeder laws here are out of control and the High Council is trying to figure out how to keep his cooperation and ensure he is within the codes. War is budding a bloom, Liv. Our kingdoms are not friendly any more but they rarely were. I am doing my best to keep him happy and to avoid war.”

Garreth points to large wooden buildings with families lined up outside. Guards line the streets, loitering outside castles, their gold armor stark against the destitute landscape. A woman struggles to hold her babe in her arms as she sobs in the queue.

“Feeder houses.” Cedric points. “A draft of some sorts.”

I feel sick. “How does Lux get its blood?” I ask incredulously. Immediate queasiness takes over. I can’t take lives like this. This is wrong and the blood I’ve had curdles in my stomach.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Liv. Lux would never engage like this. All kingdoms are slightly different. Gruyere, for example, is a snowed landscape. They have stores and stores of blood, all willingly given. Lux has a volunteer system as well and they are rewarded handsomely.”

“Again, why are we here? Shouldn’t the powers intervene?”

“We’re showing face but also building a case. This unfortunately would mean war, conflict, more human death than what is presently before us.” The carriage hits a bump that spills wine onto the floor. Worn grey stone walls are slowly replaced by white marble bricks, which line the coiled ascent to the castle. I unclench my jaw, feeling sick at the thought we are complacent in his behavior by being here.

“It seems like there is already a case.”

“For both sides, though. The High Council governs the entire continent. Made up of the rulers from each kingdom, and with that, they form allyships and find themselves very involved in the innerworkings of each of them. If royals go missing, such as you, they could be concerned. They could ask questions.”