Mathias was acting as Amaya's bodyguard. He accompanied her wherever she went. At the same time, however, she acted as a bodyguard for him, because no one dared to harm him as long as he stood by her side.
They lay in the gardens on the grass and watched the clouds. They pointed to the strange ones. They imagined what they looked like. They saw flowers, birds and wolves in them. They saw whole heavenly cities there.
Their view of the turquoise skies was overshadowed by Prince Ciaran.
"Could we talk in private?" Ciaran asked Amaya.
"You can talk in front of Mathias. We don't have secrets," replied Amaya.
Lie. She had many secrets nobody knew about.
"Are you afraid of leaving him alone or are you afraid of being alone with me?" Ciaran looked at her challengingly.
"I'm not afraid of anything," Amaya said.
She gave him a hand to help her stand. He quickly pulled her to her feet and pressed her to his chest.
"There must be something you fear, little goddess," said Ciaran.
"I certainly won't tell my weaknesses to the enemy," she retorted.
"You already told me one," Ciaran reminded her.
"I don't need to watch this spark between you," Mathias interrupted them.
Amaya rolled her eyes. She pulled away from the prince.
"Wait here," she said to Mathias. "I'll be right back."
"I'm not going anywhere," said Mathias.
Amaya was walking with Prince Ciaran. The warm rays of the summer sun flooded the landscape. The birds sang beautifully.
"Your friend has no respect," said Prince Ciaran.
"He only has no respect for you," Amaya replied. "He gets along with the guards quite well. Except for General Marcellus. He is your friend and stands on your side."
"I'm usually popular with people," Ciaran remarked.
"You're loved in Hiraeth," Amaya said. "Your people would like to see you as their king. Are you that loved in the rest of the kingdom too?'
"More and less. Deira is divided inside, but still holding together," he replied. "But since you mention the people of Hiraeth, I think it's about time they got to know their princess. We have our wedding next week and people should get to know you. They want to get to know you."
"It's still over a week," Amaya said.
"It's only eight days," said Ciaran.
"A long eight days during anything can happen," Amaya said.
"You can't be locked up in a palace all the time. I want you to be a part of this place. I want Hiraeth to be your home." Ciaran told her dreamily. "In two days, the celebration of the first full moon of autumn takes place. I would like you to accompany me there, Amaya."
"Won't the royal guards have a problem with you letting me out of the cage?" she raised an eyebrow in question. A mischievous smile graced her lips.
"If you will be with me, then not," replied the prince. "After the wedding, they won't guard us like that anymore. They will return back to Miramor."
"Am I going to enjoy the party?" Amaya asked him.
"I think you'll love it," replied Ciaran.
"In that case, I would be honored to accompany you there," Amaya said. "If you promise to dance with me," she added.
"Anytime," said Ciaran.
⸸
Mareena was preparing Amaya for the celebration of the first full moon of autumn. Amaya chose a red dress, similar to the one she wore the day Prince Ciaran kidnapped her. The strips of fabric were held together by gold clasps. High slits, reaching to the hips, revealed her legs decorated with symbols in the language of the gods. They connected her past with her present. Blessed by the gods of the Amorite kingdom and the future princess of Deira. She was adorned with a pile of jewels glittering in the light of the setting sun. Mareena braided flowers in her hair.
Amaya looked at herself in the mirror. She liked what she saw.
"You've made me a true princess, Mareena," Amaya said.
"It's your character that makes you a princess, not your dress and jewelry, miss," said Mareena.
Amaya did an admiring turn. "Do you think His Highness will like it?" she asked.
"He'll adore you, miss," Mareena replied.
"I already adore her," said the prince, leaning against the door frame.
Amaya and Mareena turned to him in shock.
"Your Highness." Mareena bowed to him.
"You shouldn't be sneaking around like that, Your Highness," Amaya told him with a mischievous smile.
"I learned that from you," said Ciaran.
"You can leave us alone," said Prince Ciaran to Mareena.
"As you wish, Your Highness." She bowed to him once more and left.
"Red, the color of Deira." The prince carefully looked at his bride.
"If you don't like it I can exchange it for a blue dress," said Amaya.
Prince Ciaran gracefully bounced off the door and approached Amaya. They stood close to each other. He was quite a bit taller than her, looking down on her. They looked into each other's eyes. They absorbed each other.
"You're irresistible in red," he told her.
"You shouldn't flatter me like that or I'll still think you like me," Amaya smirked.
"I would never said it would happen, but I like you, Amaya," the prince admitted.
Amaya stared at him for a brief moment, unsure if it was a lie or the truth. She didn't dare find out.
"You shouldn't say that to your enemies," she finally told him.
"What if I don't want us to be enemies?" said Ciaran. " I want to be your friend. Maybe even something more."
Amaya lost her breath at those words. Her heart pounded wildly. Suddenly she didn't know what to do. She always knew what to do. She always knew the right words and steps. But now they were unknown to her. Finally, however, she looked away and retreated from the prince.
"Trust me, you don't want to get involved in my life any more than you already are," she said.
"What if I want to?" said Ciaran.
"You shouldn't," Amaya replied in a sad voice. "Let's have fun. Surely everyone is waiting for us already." she threw away her gloom, put a fake smile on her face and marched out of her rooms.
At first Prince Ciaran just stared dumbfounded, but eventually followed her.
Horses with lavishly decorated saddles were waiting for them in the courtyard. A whole procession of soldiers was prepared to accompany them. The Royal Guards together with Prince Ciaran's Guards. General Marcellus also wore a sumptuous uniform more suitable for celebration than for battle.
"Red?" Mathias frowned at Amaya.
"Here we are in Deira, Mathias," Amaya told him. "You should throw away the old colors. We belong here now."
"Are you giving up your own kingdom, Miss Amaya?" General Adrien spoke.
"As I said, I serve no king. I'll take the colors I need." Amaya replied.
"So you are a universal traitor," said General Adrien.
"No, I'm just looking out for my own interests," Amaya said.
"It's a day of celebration so I expect no arguments," Prince Ciaran said, silencing anyone who might have planned to join in. He gave Amaya and General Adrien a stern look as they liked to tease each other.
At the prince's command, the procession moved forward. They were heading towards the city, from where music and joyful laughter could already be heard.
The sun has already hidden behind the distant horizon. The last rays of the day were still creeping across the landscape. Dusk fell on the city. The first stars were rising in the darkening skies. It was not yet completely dark and the moon was already shining beautifully in all its glory. The square was illuminated by dozens of lanterns made of colored glass. They cast shimmering colored shadows. Blue, pink, green and many other colors. They covered the square in a rainbow cloak. The fun hasn't really started yet. The people of Hiraeth were finalizing the final details. They brought food to the tables. They decorated the square with flowers.
When they arrived from the palace, a crowd immediately formed around them. Hiraeth loved their prince and they came to give him a proper welcome. Hands reached out to him. They called his name. Amaya was used to large crowds, but it still managed to confuse her. Deira and its people were different from what she had learned.
The crowd immediately backed off. They created an alley through which a woman with fiery hair could walk freely. She was wearing a red dress made of fine fabric. She was decorated with pearls.
"It is an honor to welcome you back to our celebration, Your Highness," the woman spoke. "And it is a great honor to us all that you have brought with you your bride, blessed by the gods."
"We are honored by your warm welcome," said Prince Ciaran. "Amaya was looking forward to finally meeting her people."
"We would be honored if the moon goddess would bless today's celebration," said the red-haired woman, bowing slightly.
It wasn't an option. It was a request. She was to speak to the gods. With the gods who hate her.
She took a deep breath. Ciaran's hand found hers. Their fingers intertwined.
"You don't have to do it if you don't want to," he whispered in her ear.
"I have my reputation," she whispered back. "If I want the pretense to stay together, I have to."
Ciaran gave her a worried look. Amaya let go of him. She entered the middle of the square. People surrounded her. They stared intently at her. She knelt on the ground. She looked towards the moon.
"Selene, goddess of the moon. The most beautiful decoration of the night. Bless this celebration. Bless us with your silver light." Amaya spoke to the moon.
Nothing happened at first. Amaya took her dagger and sliced her palm. Drops of blood fell on the stone. Amaya began to speak in a language no one understood, the language of the gods.
If you understood, you would hear these words: "I know I have not been your favorite in recent years, but I would greatly appreciate it if you would give your blessing to these people today. They have nothing to do with my sins."
That's when it happened. A bright beam of light came out of the moon. A silver glow illuminated Amaya, a girl blessed by the gods and cursed by them at the same time. A tree grew in the place where her blood fell. The small bud turned into a full-grown tree in a second. Its bark was ebony black and its leaves shone silvery. A gift from Selene, the goddess of the moon.
The onlookers held their breath in astonishment. "Awesome." came from somewhere. Out of the corner of her eye, Amaya even caught a glimpse of General Adrien looking at the miracle in dumb astonishment.
"The moon goddess has blessed us!" exclaimed the redhead who greeted them. "Let the celebration begin!"
Prince Ciaran helped Amaya back to her feet. He took her bleeding palm in his. He took a bandage from somewhere and bandaged her wound. His whiteness was immediately stained by the seeping red of blood.
"Did you do that?" Ciaran asked her.
"It was a barter. Gods always ask for something in return." Amaya replied.
"What did you sacrifice?" Ciaran wondered.
"The most precious thing I have, my blood," said Amaya.
Mathias suddenly appeared out of nowhere and hugged Amaya. He spun her in the air.
"I knew you still had it in you," he said. "The gods simply love you."
"Did I ever say otherwise?" Amaya faked a smile.
"Let's dance," Mathias said pulling Amaya away from the prince.
Amaya was looking at Ciaran the whole time Mathias was pulling her away. They got lost in the celebrating crowd. Mathias caught her by the waist and together they stepped to the rhythm of joyful music. They were jumping here and there. Right and left. He twisted her in a spin and hugged her back to his chest.
"Are you ready?" Mathias asked her.
"I'll see you before dawn," Amaya replied.
The partners took turns. Another man took Amaya into his arms. She was quite busy. She didn't like it. Everyone wanted to dance with her. Only Prince Ciaran somehow still didn't get the chance. Amaya looked for him in the crowd, but couldn't find him. Sometimes she noticed him dancing with someone, but he remained lost to her.
After hours of dancing, she managed to slip out. The people of Hiraeth danced around a tree given to them by the goddess. Amaya stood aside, catching her breath. She watched people holding hands and dancing in a circle.
"You just proved you're a witch." General Adrien spoke. "You made that tree."
"Blood was just payment," Amaya replied. "The gods always demand sacrifices. Sometimes smaller, sometimes larger. But I'm not a witch."
"Then what is the difference between you and the witches?" the general wondered.
"Witches draw their power from the shadows. It leaves physical marks on them. Their mortal bodies cannot withstand such power, so they disintegrate alive. We are born with our power. With the rest we are left to the mercy of the gods." Amaya replied.
"But that doesn't make you any better than a witch," said the general.
"I never said I was better," Amaya said. "I have no problem admitting that I am indeed a depraved being."