The Forsaken Hero

The inner courtyards were small and neat. The main manor dominated the center, with several wings extending to the side. A towering fountain portraying a dragon eerily similar to the lava dragons sprayed water between its jaws, filling a pool a dozen feet across.

The eastern wing, built flush against the wall, overlooked the rim of the spire. A large tower jutted from the third floor, so broad it overlapped with the wall ramparts. It was the highest point of the complex and easily over a hundred feet wide. Thick stained glass windows graced the upper levels, but they warped what was inside, letting only a hint of rainbow light escape. Something about it resonated with my soul with a gentle tug.

"I’m truly sorry for the difficulty earlier. Our empire has dominated this land for so long we’ve grown arrogant in our culture," Elaine said.

Elise shrugged. "It’s nothing we’re not used to. Only, I’ve been curious for a while. Even during the negotiations, you never seemed caught up in all the traditions. If you hadn’t said something, I’m not even sure they would have given me a proper room. They’d been discussing the stables before you arrived."

"Stables?" I looked at her curiously. "But that’s for animals. Rivlitt tries to make Fable sleep there."

A shadow crossed her face. "I’m aware."

I flinched as R’lissea gave me a withering look, opening my mouth to protest and then closing it again. Maybe I’d been lucky to be assigned the slave quarters, after all.

"Once you’ve lived as long as I have, everything starts to look the same. Some react by rejecting change, being overly comfortable with the familiar. Others, like me, find it refreshing. When I was in training as a young girl, it was stylish for women to cover every inch of skin, even wearing feathered masks that covered their lips. I daresay the great, great grandmothers of the current generation would be rolling over in their graves."

I nodded, glancing at the noble women meandering around us. The clothing itself would have been considered rather conservative, save for the long slits cut in the skirts and arms. Some dresses had slits running from the hem of the skirt around the ankles to midway up the bodice. Were it not for the colorful sashes they wore around the waist, every gust of wind could prove problematic.

"Still want to wear one?" R’lissea asked, nudging me.

"M-me?" I stammered, flushing slightly. "No, I couldn’t! They’re too...um...I just don’t think I should wear something like that."