I am back in my room at an inn. Its our last stop on our way to the capital. Weve already been on the road for about a week. The rumors about a live Mara who has been raised from the dead and showed her powers by vanquishing a few ghouls have spread quicker than we expected. I hear people ooh and aah whenever they see our procession. But as soon as they glimpse Morok, they huddle in small groups, apprehensively watching us pass by.
As it has turned out that manacles are excessive and Morok could hunt me down easily without them, Prince Daniel has decided to discard them. But barely a minute passes without me wondering if I can ask him to put them back on, if it means I dont have to travel on Moroks mount together with the Shadows servant himself. The first time, he lifted me up like a sack of potatoes and sat me down right in front of him, pressing hard against his chest. But he relented when the pain in my shoulders made me hiss. Since then, Morok has been gentler while helping me on his horse, but for the first couple of days every time he put his arms around me from behind, I shuddered with fear. On the third day, the fear didnt subside, but I learnt how to relax my muscles while sitting so close to this monster.
Back in the room, Im packing my few possessions. Prince Daniel treats me now a bit less like a puppet he has taken hostage, and more like a welcome guest. How ironic. These cute gifts hes been showering me with, like a hair comb with an exquisite bone handle from one village, a piece of fragrant lavender soap from another, a brand-new dress to replace the caftan, ruined by the ghoul, from a third village, just make me want to roll my eyes. But beggars cant be choosers, so I gratefully receive all the presents with a smile, albeit condescending. Its all I can manage, considering that the prince can be showering me with gifts one day, and tossing me back into the grave the other.
The wounds have already healed, just as Morok promised, and even my skin has turned a shade pinker. In one of the villages, I finally found a full-length mirror. I wanted to see how bad a walking corpse could look like. On the whole, it was better than expected.
I smell like lavender because of the soap, my skin doesnt peel off anymore, and my body is not falling apart. On the contrary, with each passing day, Im starting to look more and more like a living person. At the beginning, my skin did have this blueish tint to it, but now its just a bit paler than normal. I have lost a lot of weight and my jawline is sharper than Im used to, which makes me look older than nineteen. But Morok has reassured me that it will get even better and the more time passes, the more I will resemble myself. Apart from my hair and eyes. My once jet-black hair has remained grey and my eyes have become lighter and foggier, which makes me look eerie.
I shoot a glance at a small mirror on the table and wrinkle my nose in distaste as soon as I find the reflection of my eyes. I was never as beautiful as my sister but nor was I bad-looking or spooky.
Since the start of our journey, Ive found out that not only do I feel pain, but I can also become tired. Thats why I have to spend my nights sleeping. I breathe too, though Im still not entirely convinced that it is necessary, I do it by force of habit. My body is functioning from force of habit too, it is just doing what it is used to. My breath can quicken or slow down depending on my emotional and physical state. I dont have to eat because I dont feel hungry, but sometimes when I see or think about food, my mouth starts watering. Morok has told me that I can taste some dishes I crave if I want to refresh my memory about their taste, but my body does not really need food. The most unusual feeling, however, is the sense of stillness in my chest, where my heart should be beating. But to that Morok said that it would re-start when I am stronger, and then I will be almost indistinguishable from normal people, because it will start pumping blood through my veins and my skin will turn the right shade again.
I take some stibnite from my purse and line my eyes with it. I also cover my lips with a special paint. Those, too, are Daniels presents. I used to use stibnite when I was still alive, but instead of lip-paint we would use juice from different berries. Progress cant be halted; people have come up with new ways to make themselves more beautiful. Well, the make-up is an improvement, but my outlandish eyes are now even more pronounced than before.
I wonder what my Goddess would say if she knew that I too am a spirit now, I say aloud, unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice.
She wont say anything. Your Goddess couldnt care less, just like everyone else.
The sound of his voice makes me start. I didnt see him enter the room.
What do you mean?
He doesnt answer, just shrugs his massive shoulders and gestures me out of the room. It is time for us to leave. I toss the rest of my things into a small bag and follow my guard.
Yarat is only a days ride away now, my dear Agatha, the prince reminds me, while Morok helps me onto a white steed.
The prince found one after all. And I catch myself thinking that my scarlet cloak does look nobler against the white of the horses back. I smile, patting the white of the horses neck. The steed is beautiful indeed, with its long mane and silky tale. Its a pity its magnificent body will be stained as soon as we start on this muddy road. Though fortunately, it didnt rain much yesterday.
So, you can smile, the prince says with a grin when Morok has stepped away.
My smile vanishes. But I continue stroking the horses mane and meet the princes gaze.
I do not allow myself to smile for the fear you might fall in love with me, Your Highness.
He only grins wider.
And what if I already have?
His question catches me off guard. Daniel runs his fingers through his golden locks with a look of satisfaction on his young face. He must be waiting for an answer but I keep silent, ashamed at my loss for words. My life has consisted of worshipping my Goddess and training and killing evil spirits. Maras can fall in love but whats the point? If you have been chosen by Morana, you can never get married, your fate is to serve the Goddess. Most sisters, me included, preferred to banish these feelings knowing that there is no future there. So, my experience of flirting is almost non-existent, which is more than can be said about the prince. I have a hunch he will defeat me in these verbal duels more than once. The only thing Daniel fails to take into account while playing his little game of seduction with me is that I hate princes. But now I can think of nothing better than straightening myself in my saddle and ignoring the question completely.
I will take it as a yes, grins Daniel and mounts his horse.
A yes to what? is all I have time to say before he trots away.
I let out a scoff of frustration and brush my hair back to put on my hood.
4
Winter has always been our favorite season. Not only because my sister and I have been marked by Morana, the Goddess of Winter and Death, but also because it is the time of year when magic seems to envelop the whole world. I especially love a night after a snowy evening, with a full moon makes the snow shimmer and twinkle like stars. And the frost in the air bites your cheeks and tickles your nose.
I breathe out a small cloud of steam, wrap myself tighter into my fur-lined scarlet cloak and take a few apprehensive steps towards the woods. My legs in high, winter boots sink into the snow up to the middle of my shin.
I cringe when Anna overtakes me at a run and dives into the snow, breaking its perfectly smooth surface. She laughs merrily, throwing snow in the air with both her arms and legs, and then squeals when some of it falls behind the collar of her jacket. My lips break into a smile but I quickly recover myself. I sheepishly glance up to the temple and press my index finger to my lips, urging her to keep quiet.