Chapter 3: Chapter Three—Betrothed to Atalaya

Chapter Three—Betrothed to Atalaya

Apparently her father had gotten a good price from that fat duke, because Anara was now aboard a ship headed for Atalaya where she was to be married. Her father had even come along for the marriage. But why he had chosen to ride in this ship with them, she didn’t know. Was it the money or the treaty her father wanted from this marriage?

The Wind Steppe princess emptied her stomach for the fourth time that day. Curse these floating tubs of canvas and wood. She wanted to go out on deck for some fresh air, but she quickly found that it was better to remain in her cabin so her leering betrothed wouldn’t follow her about, breathing down her neck. Ulshar had already cornered her once to gloat. It was unbearable. She swore that if he sneered at her one more time, she would throw him off the ship!

What made it worse was that Anara hadn’t been allowed to keep any of her clothes. She had to wear the clothing of these people who lived below the Wind Steppes. They were suffocating, frilly and too colorful. The underclothes were utterly scandalous. Apparently they were made in Amalfi, the country of which Atalaya was a sworn enemy of. For some inexplicable reason, that hadn’t stopped them from maintaining trade with one another. How odd. These people of the world below were so greedy.

The underclothes in particular annoyed her. In any other circumstances she might have liked them. But not now. Duke Korr would want to see her wearing them.

Oh gods, she was going to wretch again.

After calming her stomach, she thought back to her earlier humiliation of the dat. Anara had been forced to allow two maids to assist her in bathing and maintaining her womanly parts. She had laid there, her legs spread while her mind assailed her with images of the fat and sweaty Duke Korr on top of her.

She wretched.

Time passed, and the princess was beginning to feel a bit better. She probably wouldn’t empty her stomach anymore, but four days was long enough to become acclimatized to this primitive way of travel.

For the why, Anara had no idea. Atop their pegasi, they had met the Duke at Carnival Island, a volcano peeking out of the sea with a city surrounding its base. It was supposed to be neutral territory between Atalaya and Amalfi. Anara didn’t understand the politics between those bickering nations, but evidentially the Wind Steppe khanates, including clan Iizuhlia, were now beginning to take advantage of their rivalries.

She didn’t know the particulars of the agreement her father had struck with Duke Korr, only that he greatly valued this new alliance. And whatever payment he had received for her. Anara would have cried some more, but she was all out of tears. Now these thoughts enraged her. She spent days in her cabin, yelling at the walls until now only a smoldering sullenness remained. At least she would be rich. That brought her little comfort.

Was Raizha well cared for in the hold without her? Anara had only gone to see her once before she was reprimanded by her father and told not to do it again. Evidentially he feared she would take her pegasus and escape. Perhaps she should?

Anara scooted her backside about. She was still getting used to these strange clothes. The undergarments were impossible, she thought in irritation as she lifted herself to adjust the thong through the fabric of her dress. It was riding up between her—

Boots pounded on the boards out in the companionway just before her cabin door swung open. Anara flinched in surprise. There was no lock. Her lack of privacy and due respect made her feel like such a child. No. She felt like a prisoner.

Her father entered, Ulshar at his heels like the good pet he was. She pointed a finger menacingly at Ulshar. “I don’t want to see your sycophant in here, father.”

Saul sighed as he seemed to be giving it a moment of thought. “Leave us,” he told Ulshar. The lout lingered for a moment, clearly wanting to stay so he could sneer silently from behind her father. He finally obeyed his khan and left the cabin—thank the gods.

He closed the door behind him. Good.

“You’re embarrassing me,” Saul said, his long mustaches swaying with his words.

Her jaw nearly dropped. “I’m embarrassing you?”

“Yes,” he said pointedly. “You need to come out of your cabin and spend time with your betrothed. Duke Korr is to be your husband after all.”

She almost laughed. It seemed one of the few emotions left to her in this bewildering nightmare. Had her father always been so cold? So calculating? Her sister iza came to mind. Poor Iza. That had been awful, but not as bad as this.

“Do you truly hate me so much? What does mother think of this?”

There was confusion on his face, but not sympathy. It wasn’t unexpected that daughters would be given in marriage to princes of other khanates in order to build alliances, but these people below were outsiders that neither knew nor cared for the ways of the Wind Steppe.

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It was madness what her father was doing!

“You’ve always known this day would come, Anara. I do not understand why you choose to act so irrationally.”

“This is evil of you, father. You’re betraying the Steppes.”

Eyes narrowing, his tone changed. It was the one he used when giving ultimatums to the leaders of weaker khanates when he wanted to force them into something. “Anara, you can come out of your cabin and present yourself to the duke the way a princess of the Iizuhlian khanate should, or I’ll have Ulshar whip your backside so thoroughly that you won’t be able to sit on your ass for a month—“she was about to interrupt, but he flew over her—“and I’ll make sure that you still come out to present yourself!”

She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Suddenly he grabbed her by the wrist and snarled. “Do you understand me, fool girl?”

Shocked at his ferocity, she nodded. It was the only thing she could do. Then the door flung open to reveal Ulshar.

“I thought I told you to leave us alone, Ulshar?”

“Forgive me,” he said, respectfully in his greasy air of obsequiousness. “The captain and the duke seem flustered. They have requested your presence immediately, my Kahn.”

Saul turned to regard his pet. “Why?”

“There’s a group of ships off the horizon.”

The khan frowned. “Why should that bother us? Are they Amalfi warships?”

Ulshar shrugged.

“Their flags,” Saul snapped. “These magic-lacking people use standards to tell each other apart, you fool. Are the ships bearing standards with hawks?”

“Forgive me, Khan,” Ulshar said. “I do not know what a hawk is.”

Anara couldn’t help but smirk as her father growled with impatience. “Never mind. Go,” he said, sweeping his hand at Ulshar. “Bring the others and prepare the pegasi. Go!”

Anara made to follow, but Saul stopped her with a hand. “Stay here. I don’t need you up on deck making a mess of things.”

But he had just told her to come up and be seen! “Father,” Anara screeched. “You’re not going to leave me here. What if this ship is attacked?”

He put a hand on her shoulder. It was almost a tender gesture. “You may not be married yet, but you belong to Duke Korr now. He will protect you.” He turned to leave. “Goodbye, my daughter.”

“Father!”

He closed the door firmly behind him.

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