all the way back. I’ll have missed Skeet’s raid by now , he thought. He could leave the carcass for the wolves, but any meat and new fur were good for the tribe. He hoisted the tiger over his left shoulder, keeping his dagger hand free.
You made us like this, people of Atmen , Hakon thought. Beasts hunted by beasts.
CHAPTER TWO
The City of Atmen
Princess Kara sat in front of her mirror, focusing on the tattoo of a single jewel that appeared to hang from the crown of her forehead. It was still fresh. It had only been days since she became the public princess of the Air Kingdom—the day of her betrothal. That’s when the jewel of betrothal and marriage had been added to the weaving silver and red tattoo that she had had since birth. She sighed. She hated the fresh tattoo—not just because it looked like a glowing pimple (although that was irritating) but because of the permanency of it. She was no longer a secret, she could never deny who she was, and she was now… that horrid word… engaged.
She knew it wasn’t personal. None of it was. Her father, King Arden, was making an alliance with another father, another king, somewhere bird zips away from here. She had known this would always happen. The news didn’t come as a shock, but the ending had. With her reveal had come a type of death. No longer did she play some lesser courtier in the palace or dress in commoners’ clothing. No longer did her father come and teach her secretly how to fight. No more would she be the secret princess, left to her own devices.
Stop these thoughts , she scolded herself. The past was past. And Master knew that this kingdom needed to stop focusing on the past.
So Kara ignored the gem and turned to her handmaid, Sarita. Sarita had bright blue eyes—characteristic of her kind, the Su, the water people. Her hands were also webbed near the knuckles, and Kara imagined her toes were the same. Sarita had been Kara’s nurse before she was her handmaiden. Though Sarita was at least ten years older than Kara, she was in some ways the closest thing she had to a friend. Almost. She had always maintained her role as servant, no matter how little Kara acted like a princess.
“Why don’t the Su tattoo their ranks, Sarita?”
“We don’t have ranks like the Alem, Your Highness,” Sarita said, grabbing a comb to brush Kara’s hair.
“But some Su have servants.” Kara grabbed the brush and began combing her own hair. “How can you tell each other apart?”
Sarita smiled and grabbed a ribbon and some hair clasps. “Most of us are servants, princess. We know our place without a tattoo to tell us.”
“But surely some of you are higher than others. Even as servants of the Alem.” Kara relented and let Sarita tie the ribbon in her hair. “For example, a handmaid of a princess is probably higher esteemed then say… a handmaid for a duchess?”
Sarita shook her head. “We don’t think that way. All of us are simply content to serve the Alem in any capacity.” She finished with Kara’s hair and attached a small lacing of pearls atop her head, like a crown that mirrored the tattoo on her forehead. “Shall I fetch your dress for the banquet?”
Kara frowned. The Su were a curious race. “Yes.”
Sarita bowed and exited into the adjacent bedroom. The bow irritated Kara. So did the pearls. Sarita had always treated her like a princess, but her servant’s actions felt even more formal now. Kara found herself wishing that her parents had made sure to keep up the pomp even while she was hidden. Then again, she wished she had never had to be a secret in the first place. She wished… well, she wished what everyone wished: that her brother hadn’t been kidnapped and killed by the Terra.
The entire story never made sense to her. That’s what it was to her—a story. Every child in Atmen and the surrounding villages was taught the same stories. Her father’s grandfather had driven the Terra far into the east, deep into the Desolate
You made us like this, people of Atmen , Hakon thought. Beasts hunted by beasts.
CHAPTER TWO
The City of Atmen
Princess Kara sat in front of her mirror, focusing on the tattoo of a single jewel that appeared to hang from the crown of her forehead. It was still fresh. It had only been days since she became the public princess of the Air Kingdom—the day of her betrothal. That’s when the jewel of betrothal and marriage had been added to the weaving silver and red tattoo that she had had since birth. She sighed. She hated the fresh tattoo—not just because it looked like a glowing pimple (although that was irritating) but because of the permanency of it. She was no longer a secret, she could never deny who she was, and she was now… that horrid word… engaged.
She knew it wasn’t personal. None of it was. Her father, King Arden, was making an alliance with another father, another king, somewhere bird zips away from here. She had known this would always happen. The news didn’t come as a shock, but the ending had. With her reveal had come a type of death. No longer did she play some lesser courtier in the palace or dress in commoners’ clothing. No longer did her father come and teach her secretly how to fight. No more would she be the secret princess, left to her own devices.
Stop these thoughts , she scolded herself. The past was past. And Master knew that this kingdom needed to stop focusing on the past.
So Kara ignored the gem and turned to her handmaid, Sarita. Sarita had bright blue eyes—characteristic of her kind, the Su, the water people. Her hands were also webbed near the knuckles, and Kara imagined her toes were the same. Sarita had been Kara’s nurse before she was her handmaiden. Though Sarita was at least ten years older than Kara, she was in some ways the closest thing she had to a friend. Almost. She had always maintained her role as servant, no matter how little Kara acted like a princess.
“Why don’t the Su tattoo their ranks, Sarita?”
“We don’t have ranks like the Alem, Your Highness,” Sarita said, grabbing a comb to brush Kara’s hair.
“But some Su have servants.” Kara grabbed the brush and began combing her own hair. “How can you tell each other apart?”
Sarita smiled and grabbed a ribbon and some hair clasps. “Most of us are servants, princess. We know our place without a tattoo to tell us.”
“But surely some of you are higher than others. Even as servants of the Alem.” Kara relented and let Sarita tie the ribbon in her hair. “For example, a handmaid of a princess is probably higher esteemed then say… a handmaid for a duchess?”
Sarita shook her head. “We don’t think that way. All of us are simply content to serve the Alem in any capacity.” She finished with Kara’s hair and attached a small lacing of pearls atop her head, like a crown that mirrored the tattoo on her forehead. “Shall I fetch your dress for the banquet?”
Kara frowned. The Su were a curious race. “Yes.”
Sarita bowed and exited into the adjacent bedroom. The bow irritated Kara. So did the pearls. Sarita had always treated her like a princess, but her servant’s actions felt even more formal now. Kara found herself wishing that her parents had made sure to keep up the pomp even while she was hidden. Then again, she wished she had never had to be a secret in the first place. She wished… well, she wished what everyone wished: that her brother hadn’t been kidnapped and killed by the Terra.
The entire story never made sense to her. That’s what it was to her—a story. Every child in Atmen and the surrounding villages was taught the same stories. Her father’s grandfather had driven the Terra far into the east, deep into the Desolate