Chapter Three

As the sun began to sink below the horizon, the group of ten; eight footmen, the king and his daughter were admitted to the palace through large stone doors that swung silently shut behind them. There were no windows on the exterior wall of the building, but as Arianna looked around the room they waited in, lit by torches and innumerable candles, she noticed that sheer silver curtains decorated the far wall, occasionally fluttering in a gentle breeze. The soft glow of firelight showed a richly furnished room. In the centre, a low table was laden with fresh fruits and warm breads, scattered cushions providing the seating. Tapestries hung from the walls, illuminated by the torches which sat in sconces that seemed to be made from the same granite as the walls themselves. She had expected the rooms to be cold, the stone trapping the heat without warming anything, but as the footmen made themselves comfortable around the table she realized that vents in the high ceiling were blowing gentle gusts of warm air, keeping the room at a comfortable temperature.

As they waited, the footmen ate, one of them offering a perfectly ripe plum to the princess which she refused with a shake of her head. Her stomach was tied in knots and she couldn’t bear the thought of eating anything, not even her favourite fruit.

A door along one of the side walls opened and a man entered, making his way to the king and introducing himself as Sórun, the high priest of the palace. He was a thin, tall man, who looked as silvery grey as the building he ran. His skin was like old grey parchment, always dry and full of wrinkles and he looked to be at least 300 years old. He had washed out grey eyes, and the little bit of hair he had was as silvery grey as the robes he wore. As Arianna stared at him, she fought the urge to run and hide. When he looked at her, she felt that he saw all her secrets and thought she was wicked and deserved to be punished. She did not speak to him at all, and he didn't try to speak to her.

Instead, he spoke to her father, while she sat quietly and listened as they discussed her future at the Palace, how often she’d be allowed to return home, and whether they could, in fact, help her at all. Sórun was certain they could, and so, after settling some more details, he gestured for a novice, dressed in the yellow robes of Smell, to show the princess to her room where she’d be left alone to say her farewells to her father.

Following the novice through the stone corridors with her father next to her, Arianna tried to pretend an interest in the stammered history of the building that their guide gave. Yet the tales of how the Palace had been built to represent the development of the seven senses, and the trials that each was put through in order to advance to having all in perfect harmony once reaching Spirit, could not compete with the thought that in a few short minutes, her father would be leaving her in this strange place. Tears filled her eyes and she swallowed hard, deliberately placing more distance between herself and the king. He made no comment as he watched his daughter move closer to the wall away from him, but King Silaren fought the pain in his chest as he realized that his actions were the cause of the distance between him and the daughter who most reminded him of his wife.

Though Iliana and Arianna were identical in every physical way, their personalities could not have been more different. Iliana was quiet and gentle, always ready with a kind word or a happy smile; whereas Arianna was watchful and alert, keenly intelligent and equally mischievous for it. The king often said that his graying hair was more because of her antics than any trouble the foreigners ever gave him.

Her strong will and independence reminded him every day of her mother, Queen Alanna. The queen had died shortly after their birth, a long labour and severe bleeding had overcome her, though she had lived just long enough to name them and whisper her love to her husband.

As the girls had grown, the king had made a concerted effort to stay at home, leaving only for short trips that were unavoidable. Though Iliana was the oldest and therefore heir to the throne, she showed little interest in being a princess and even less in the idea of becoming queen. It was Arianna who watched with interest as her father played host to a never-ending stream of dignitaries and traders, people who were interested in acquiring the skills and technologies that were unique to the peaceful kingdom.

It was also Arianna who sought out the king when the day was over, who climbed into his lap at the dinner table and made him tell her stories of her mother and the way they met; or what it was like to go to sea on one of the large merchant ships with their billowing sails. While Iliana could calm a room with her songs, Arianna could speak to the soul of any person she encountered.

This, the king reminded himself now as he readied himself to say goodbye, was why she was at the Crystal Palace. Because if his youngest did not soon learn to control the Sense she had been born with, it would soon control – and possibly destroy – not only her, but anyone she used it on. 4