“Goin’ down the road feelin’ glad”
In keeping with the general trend of posting Spectral Crown, this week has been scheduled way ahead of time so I don’t have to worry about it, since I’ll be on vacation and I don’t want to find internet availability to pull up some sort of new post. It’s sort of like I’m getting an actual spring break, since UIUC decided that spring break is cancelled for 2021. But I won’t be going to Florida (yet…) or partying it up at some bar somewhere. A group of friends and I decided that, in lieu of an actual spring break, we’d take a vacation of our own to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, down in Tennessee. We’ll be there for two or three days, give or take, and hopefully it will be a relaxing way to spend time out in nature after being cooped up inside all winter. Maybe it’ll actually be warm! And not cold and snowy like it sometimes is during April in the Midwest. But I guess I’ll just have to wait and see, because I’m writing this post about two weeks in advance.
Anyway, this is my way of saying that I’m out of the office, and here’s some Spectral Crown to keep things tied down while I’m gone. I don’t… really have anything else to say, I guess? Huh. Weird.
Spectral Crown, by Andy Sima: Chapter Fifteen
“I knew this was a bad idea,” Simon clutched at his skull. “I should never have let you go into those tunnels.”
“You couldn’t have stopped us, even if you knew what was going to happen,” Ema pointed out.
“But none of us knew! That’s the point,” Simon said, glancing up. “George is dead. Franz is stark-raving mad. And there’s something else in the passages behind the walls. How much worse could it get?”
“I never really knew George all that well,” Kolte said. Everyone else seemed to agree, too. Even I couldn’t help but nod. George had never really made an impression. I suspected he was along only because his brother was, too.
“That doesn’t matter,” Simon snapped. “He’s dead! A life is a life. And if what you’re saying is true, he died in a most horrible manner. No, I can’t let anyone else go back into those halls. From here on, we stay in these rooms.”
“There was nothing we could or would have done differently,” Freda said, her arm around Franz to keep him calm. “What happened was a freak accident. That doesn’t mean we should stop exploring.”
“Freda’s right,” I said. “George’s death only makes me more certain that we must explore further, if only to gain a better understanding of what we’re up against.”
“What we’re up against?” Simon said. “We aren’t up against anything! The Blestemat family has our best interests, and best interests of the Uradels, at heart. We should just stay calm until we are able to leave.” But no one seemed to be paying attention to Simon.
“Do you propose going back into the tunnels?” my mother said.
“I do,” I said, resolute. I glanced at Freda, and she nodded, less sure, after looking at Franz for a moment. The big man’s eyes darted back and forth, and while he was no longer speaking nonsense or total gibberish, his face retained a certain insane quality.
“Would you go with him, Freda?” spoke my mother.
“I must attend to Franz until he is well again,” Freda said. “So no. But I still think it is in our best interests to continue exploring.”
“Even after what you saw?” Simon exclaimed. He reminded me vaguely of a bird, mimicking words. “Let me reiterate. Invisible forces, situated in a darkened, empty dining hall, pulled George through the wall with such force that the wall imploded and killed him by means of blunt trauma. Correct me if I’m wrong, but events of that nature do not happen.”
“You’re not wrong,” Freda admitted. “But who’s to say that Prince Iacob isn’t going to send his goons after us?”
I nodded, aware that if Freda and I did not convince the rest of the assembled personages, then we would have no chance to explore the tunnels. They might even get Reinhard involved. “We need to have an emergency escape plan. In the event that Iacob or Sorina are not all they seem to be.”
“Don’t forget Titus and Viorel,” Ema piped up. “We still haven’t met ‘em. King and Queen might be worse than their progeny.”
“Are you people daft?” Simon said, head still in his hands. “The Blestemats are not out to get us! They want our safety as much as our own royals do.”
“The royals see us as expendable,” someone said. There were heavy nods. Even Simon knew this was true.
“Even more reason to fend for ourselves,” I pressed on. “God helps those who help themselves. We must become familiar with the lay of the land. Otherwise what are we going to do? Sit here in the hope that we get released?”
“This isn’t a prison, Saelac,” Simon scoffed.
“Explain the locked door, then,” Kolte mumbled. To the surprise of everyone, Franz spoke.
“I think,” he started, eyes never stopping at one spot for too long. “I think that Saelac may be right.” Franz stood up on shaky legs and Freda stood up with him. “I’m okay now, I think. It was just a little blood, anyway. I’ve seen worse.”
“Will you return to the tunnels, then?” Simon said, dryly. Franz face grew tight, and his eyes swiveled harder than before. But he said nothing.
“I wouldn’t want him returning to that place,” Freda said. “Even if he wanted to go, I wouldn’t let him. What’s your point, Simon?”
The bespectacled man let out a sigh of defeat. “My point is that whatever is in there is dangerous. We don’t understand anything about this castle, or its inhabitants. I will admit that we shouldn’t expect help from the royals. At the end of the day, I care for you all. And I am loathe to see any more of you lose your lives in this silly quest to maybe garner a small amount of insight about this odd nation.”
“Your words are sweet, and heartfelt,” my mother said. “But don’t let your fear obscure your reason. We know nothing about Castle Blestem or its royalty. So far, they have treated us as guests but kept us like prisoners. Even the smallest bit of secret knowledge that these passages might afford us could make a difference between life and death. We cannot lose our nerve after the first attempt.”
“The first attempt resulted in a death!” Simon exclaimed.
“Because we know nothing about this place. It is dangerous. We have seen that,” my mother continued. “Who knows what other horrors await. We have not even been here a day yet.”
“I would prefer we not go seeking out these horrors,” Simon said. But he was beginning to relent. “Fine. As before, I will not stop you. I suppose I can continue to keep Reinhard at bay.”
My mother nodded. “Good. Although I expect that we shall be served a meal soon. It is getting late, by my watch.” This surprised me, since I hadn’t felt like I had been in the tunnels very long. The look of confusions on Freda’s face told me that she felt the same.
“How long were we gone for?” she asked, stroking Franz’s head as if he were a pained child.
“At least three hours,” someone spoke up.
“How can that be?” I asked. “We weren’t gone for more than thirty minutes.” But my stomach, in accordance with the three hours theory, growled as if I hadn’t eaten all day. Time, besides space, seemed to run odd here.
“We must be receiving a meal soon,” Kolte agreed. “It has been quite a while since lunch.”
“Perhaps they can only serve our meals when we aren’t looking?” Ema said. There were some laughs, but it was a bit too on-the-nose.
At that moment there was a knock at the door. We turned, and without waiting for a response, the door opened. Iacob’s servants, the fair-faced pale men, stepped through the door and entered into our presence.
“The royals,” the tallest one said, “wish for you to dine with them this evening.”
“They do?” Simon asked, as incredulous as the rest of us.
“Prince Iacob has requested it personally,” the servant said. “Surely you will not refuse the Blestemat prince?”
“Of course not,” Simon jumped up. “Let me retrieve Richter Reinhard. He is rooming with us.”
“We are aware,” the tall servant said. “However, are there any others of you who are missing? Your numbers seem… fewer than before.”
Ice ran up my spine, and my fingers tingled. How had the servant known? Perhaps he knew of the hole in the wall. What would he do if he suspected us?
“No, I don’t think so,” my mother said. “We have always been this many.”
“I am certain you are one less,” the servant said. Simon had paused by the door to our butlers’ quarters. He was fidgeting with his glasses, as he did when he was nervous. Franz seemed to sweat involuntarily. “George, wasn’t it? Yes, George is missing. Ah, what a shame he’ll have to miss dinner.” And without another word, the servants turned around and the entirety of them glided back to the door.
“How did you know his name?” Ema asked, lowly.
“Shall we proceed to our meal, then?” the tallest servant said, without turning around. They paused, hand outstretched to the door handle. There was an eerie silence, in which the servants were clearly awaiting a response.
“Yet, let’s move on,” my mother said. “Simon, retrieve Reinhard. The rest of us may proceed.” Upon hearing this, the servants opened the door to the outside hallway and passed through it. They stood beyond on the white marble and among the tall columns and waited for us. They did not turn around.
As our entire group, sans Reinhard and Simon, began a funeral-like procession out of our common room, my mother met my eyes. The servants knew of our transgression into the walls, but they didn’t care. Or, rather, they didn’t care as much as I expected them to. Either way, they were giving us a warning.
Once Simon and a grumpy, sleep-eyed Reinhard joined us, we were led by the servants down the hall and back to the spiral staircase. Perhaps my memory was playing tricks on me, but the passage back down to the castle’s foyer seemed much shorter than the trek away from it.
Once we reached the great foyer, the servants led us towards the steps leading up to the throne room before making a sharp left and directing us to a door set in the wall off to the side of the stairs. We stepped through, found ourselves in a short corridor looping downward on itself, and eventually came into Castle Blestem’s cathedral-like dining hall. It was interesting that the ceiling was so tall, because my mind’s compass placed us at directly below the throne room. But perhaps I was off again.
This dining room was styled frighteningly similar to the room that George had been mauled in, with high ceilings and wooden tables and chairs aplenty, all set with shining silverware. The white marble floors sparkled under glass chandeliers hanging from above, and even the darker-toned columns supporting the castle’s roof seemed to scintillate in their own unique ways.
While I took in the views of the grand dining room, a grunt and an elbow to the ribs from Simon brought me back to my surroundings. I saw that we were being directed to a table not far from us and not far from the royals, either. It seemed borderline blasphemy for us servants to eat near the royals, both Uradel and Blestemat, yet here we were, communing not a tables-length away from King Adalbert, Queen Annalise, and Prince Maynard. The entire Uradel court, in fact, sat situated just a few meters from us. And across from them, the Blestemats.
Compared to the entourage that King Adalbert carried around with him, the Blestemat royals were few in number. Prince Iacob, Princess Sorina, and much to my surprise, the elderly stable master sat across from the Uradels. The stable master sat to the side of Iacob, fraternizing easily with him, as if they were of similar rank. Perhaps they were. But that was a ridiculous idea.
As we were seated, the pale prince’s eyes met mine, and he smiled coolly. I smiled back, but there was a sound of hand bells and I became distracted.
Iacob’s tallest servant had produced a small silver bell from somewhere on his person and was ringing it for attention. “Now that all present are seated,” he said, voice echoing throughout the hollow chamber, “we would like to present the Blestemat royal family, and guests, with tonight’s main course.” He rang the bell again, and I noticed that he was alone, not surrounded by his usual group of servants. I soon saw the missing servants again, as they seemed to materialize out of the walls bearing silver trays of food. Sorina’s handmaidens, too, had joined the proceedings.
As the heaps of glorious food were placed before us, I saw that no expenses were spared in feeding any of us. There were more than enough servings of everything to feed a small village, let alone a group of rag-tag servants and their faulty masters. All this food could not have come from within the castle bounds, as I had seen no one who was able to work any fields. The Blestemats must have been expert traders to acquire these dishes.
And the dishes, indeed, were expertly crafted. They contained such a splendid array of colors, from vivid velvet purples covering fruits I had no names for to the black charring of meat cooked in a fire for extensive periods of time. There were hogs’ heads stuffed with apples and laid out on a bed of huge leaves, and fine meat pies which gave off the most tantalizing of odors. Heavy pitchers of wine, red and white, were placed in between the trays and gave us easy access to fill our goblets. Thick gravies concocted of only the finest pan drippings, much finer than any I had consumed in the Stalpert valley, lay at intervals, ready to be picked up and ladled by eager hands. It was a veritable feast fit for a king, though King Titus Blestemat was still absent.
I would have asked one of my neighboring eaters of the missing king, but I had no opportunities, seeing that everyone had helped themselves to the vast spread. Despite the fact that our lunch meal had been nearly as sumptuous, and despite the experiences of the past few hours, no one wasted any time in topping their plates and chalices with food and drink. Seeing my mother and Simon chuckling over a shared pitcher of wine, seeing Kolte and Ema rip pieces of meat off some cooked bird, seeing Freda and Franz ravenously tearing into a bowl of mashed vegetables and meats, it made me forget my worries for this strange castle. It was just as Simon had said earlier. Never say the Blestemats hadn’t fed us well.
I, too, dug into the meal with both hands. There was something for every taste I could imagine, and so it was that I remained distracted for quite some time, ignoring the loud chatter of the Uradel royals from down the table and the sound of Iacob and Sorina’s servants removing plates as they became empty.
The meal went on in this fashion for quite a while. Every time I thought that I could eat no more, a new plate of delicacies was brought out and I urged myself to try one more dish. And as new pitchers of wine were gifted to our table, we all became far more liquored than I had anticipated. Tongues loosened and secrets were shared between servants. It was a grand time, and quite a diversion from the last few harrowing hours. Behind it all was the sound of easy conversation from the royals.
I did not notice when our trays of food and jugs of wine were no longer being refilled, but it was after a point where Kolte had spontaneously jumped up and burst into some sort of old lascivious sea shanty, much to the pleasure of the other servants. After his lewd song had been finished he took a sloppy bow and sat back down. That must have been the beginning of the end of our meal, for I saw Iacob and Sorina glance over at the raucous singing and grimace. Or perhaps smile. None of the Uradel royals seemed to notice.
As our ingestion of food and drink slowed, the atmosphere of merriness did not change in any way. We were all fat and happy, the most stuffed we had ever been, and our heads and tongues lolled about on our necks as we cracked jokes and told stories. Even some of the royals closer to us partook in our jests, to the shock and respect of many of us.
Reinhard, being the small man that he was, had become rather too intoxicated and had promptly passed out in his chair, the one that separated servant from master. As we mixed and melded together, we spoke over him, and he was unaware of any of it.
I also was unaware of much of my surroundings, but as I felt a chilly hand on my shoulder, I became soberly alert of the man who stood behind me, Iacob Blestemat. He seemed to have moved about unnoticed, as neither Sorina nor the Uradel royals made any indication that his vacant chair meant anything to them. Likewise, none of my fellow servants even glanced at the pale man who was standing behind me. It seemed as though I were the only one who knew he was there.
“Well, Saelac, how have you enjoyed your meal?” he said. His voice was just as beautiful I had remembered it.
I had to spin around in my chair to face him. Up close, the closest I had been since I first glimpsed his tattoo, he seemed to radiate a white light that reminded me of some heavenly body. His pale eyes reflected my own. Staring into the pools that were his irises, I fell once again into woozy ease. “It has been delicious. Thank you, my lord,” I said.
“My lord. What a funny term. Please, call me Iacob. Prince Iacob, if you must. I have never been much for formalities,” the prince said. He smiled, flashing perfect teeth. I smiled back, aware on some level of my own insecurities. But the wine had clouded over my sense of self-direction.
“Alright, Iacob,” I said, entranced by his eyes. I could have fallen into them, really. I had never considered before what it meant to see the soul through the eyes, but I felt that if I could just have taken a dip in Iacob’s, I would understand everything about him.
The tall, muscular prince began to toy with the straps and buckles on my clothing. “Is there anything else you hunger for, Saelac?” he said, avoiding my gaze only for a moment. When he looked back, there was something new in his eyes, a sort of lust.
“Your castle has been more than kind to us,” I said, truthful as it felt in that moment. “I can think of nothing more I desire.”
Iacob smiled again. I got the impression of a predator closing in for the kill, but Iacob’s face was softer than that. He was not a predator, any more than I was prey. Right? “There must be something else you thirst for, Saelac Bergmann,” he said. His fingers, long and white, crept their way up from the straps on my shirt and to my neck. He cradled my chin in his hands and stared deep into me. I felt translucent then. Perhaps he suspected the reason I had yet to be married.
“My lord,” I said, and corrected myself. “Iacob, I do not think I understand.”
“Oh, I think you do,” he said, and standing above me, stared down into me. His eyes seemed to swirl and sparkle, and the part of my face where his hands connected felt ice-cold, but in a dreamy way. Alarms rang in my brain, but some long-concealed segment of my soul yearned for more of his touch. A segment of my soul unclouded by either the wine or the mystifying frost of his fingers.
There was the chime of bells, wrenching me away from wherever I had been, and I snapped back to my seat at the table in the dining room of Castle Blestem, and Iacob pulled his hand away from my face. He smiled and glided back to his own spot at the table.
“By order of lady Sorina,” the tallest of the princess’s handmaidens called, after the echo of the silver bell had slowed, “this meal is adjourned. Guests shall be escorted back to the quarters promptly. We thank you for joining us this evening.”
Sorina stood up, now. Maynard and Adalbert’s eyes followed her eagerly. “Yes, thank you all, members of the Uradel court, and members of the Uradel castle, for joining us on this first meal between new families. I see great things ahead for all of us.” Iacob was now seated next to her.
Us servants and maids were escorted out of the dining room by Iacob’s black-clad servants. There must have been other servants helping them, because someone carried Reinhard and someone else dragged Franz back with us, but my perception was hazy. He, too, had fallen asleep. But either way, we stumbled our way into the foyer and down the curving for a distance that seemed shorter than it should have been. But that was the wine, I suppose.
I don’t know how I got into my bed, but moments after we made our way up the stairs, I found myself beneath the blankets and on top of the straw of my makeshift stone sleeper. Giggling to myself at the sound of heavy snoring and irreverent laughter from other drunk fellows, I heard the door to the male’s quarters shut, and from a distance I heard the door to our common room lock. I did not think anything of it because I was too busy thinking about the way Iacob had held my face and how he had looked into my eyes. I was too busy thinking about how I wanted more.
Yeah, now we’re getting to the interesting part of the story. The, uh, relationship between Saelac and Iacob is something that I, currently, don’t think works all that well in the text. It’s one of the things I plan on rewriting and expanding if I ever get the opportunity/energy to revise this novel. I’d like to make it, for one, more nuanced and complex, and, two, steamier. We’ll see how that goes. Thanks for reading.
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