Slave to Sapphire
Chapter 5

Present

Iris’ vision was filled with darkness. She panicked. She was back in the Amarath Mines, breathing in thick air that was filled with a fine dust that made her lungs ache and her throat raw. Her hands roved over the rough stone walls searching. The ground shook violently, the tunnel that she was in was going to collapse. The rumble intensified and she was jostled awake. Iris bolted up, hitting her head on the ceiling before sitting back down on the soft velvet seat she had been laying on. Iris’ vision focused as her consciousness fought to pull itself out of her nightmare and into reality. She took in her surroundings. She was riding in a fine carriage, and sitting across from her was a very handsome man with a concerned look on his face. Her memories of the night came back in a rush, the passionate kiss, had she died?

“Thank the gods you are awake, I thought maybe I had been too late, and you were never going to wake. What were you thinking letting your source stone get low like that? You almost died!” The man scolded; his voice layered with worry.

Iris raised an eyebrow “It wasn’t a choice; I ran out of options. Most people in Scarlet Town don’t make it past their mid-twenties” Iris wasn’t sure why she had to tell this man what was common knowledge. She looked down at her cuff to see that her source stone was now a clear blue. She remembered the dark purple of the man’s source stone.

“Who are you?” she blurted.

“I already told you, my name is Ezekiel” he drawled.

“Where are you taking me?”

“We are going to my father’s house”

Iris rolled her eyes, “Which is where?”

“The Grand Ruler’s Palace.”

“Your father works for the Grand Ruler?”

“You ask a lot of questions”

“You give very little information; which is disorienting for a woman who just woke up from a near death experience in a strange man’s carriage.”

Ezekiel chuckled, “My father is the Grand Ruler, and I would hardly call us strangers, we did just share a very passionate kiss.”

Iris’ mouth fell open like a gasping fish. His statement sunk in and she snapped her mouth shut; she had to get out. Iris lunged for the carriage door. Ezekiel’s hand wrapped around her forearm with a firm grip, and they locked eyes. A lock of his thick black hair fell across his forehead.

“Please, wait. Just hear me out and if you still want to leave, I will stop the carriage so you don’t have to tumble out.”

Logic was telling her to go but, something in his eyes, and the way that her body reacted to his touch caused her to sit back down. He abruptly released her, the tension leaving his body as he sat.

Iris crossed her arms across her chest and glared at him. “Well, I am listening.”

Iris noted that the carriage wheels were bumping over cobblestone streets, it wouldn’t be long until they reached the Grand Palace.

“I am the Grand Ruler’s nineteenth son. Life in the Palace can be tedious. A night out in Scarlet Town helps to break up the monotony. The people in Scarlet Town are so much more vibrant, it is as if they feel more than those at the Palace.”

Iris narrowed her eyes; she would have given anything for the tedium and security that being wealthy brought. She did not appreciate that the strife of the poor was entertainment for one of the Grand Ruler’s many sons.

Ezekiel’s jaw tightened and he ran his hand through his hair, he could tell that he wasn’t coming across well.

“Anyway, I gifted you one year of life from my source stone. I would like to give you the opportunity to live at the Palace. I can make sure that there is a place for you as one of the kitchen staff.”

Now Iris was thoroughly offended. She was also slightly disgusted with herself that she had been attracted to this arrogant man. She wanted to turn his offer down but she made herself think over his proposition. She had been given another year to live. If Lucious found her, he would have her killed. The Palace was heavily guarded from outsiders and Lucious would never think to look for her there. If she took him up on his offer, she would be safe from Lucious and have time to think of her next steps. For the first time in nine years Iris didn’t have a plan; at least he was giving her the chance to figure one out.

“Why did you gift me a year of life?”

Ezekiel’s eyes widened with the shock of being asked such a question. “Because you were dying.”

“People in Scarlet Town die every day.”

His expression softened as he searched for a response.

“I am not going to the Palace to be your personal prostitute.” Iris stated.

Ezekiel’s chest shook with a soft chuckle. “As much as I enjoyed our kiss, I would never put you in that kind of situation. If we ever do kiss again it will be because you want to.”

Iris was reminded of the feel of Ezekiel’s body against hers. She dug her nails into her palms to clear her mind of the moment. “So, you saved my life and are offering me employment in the Palace as some kind of misplaced form of charity?”

“I wouldn’t call it charity; you will be working in the kitchens.”

Iris sat in silence, partly to mull over the situation and partly because she could tell it made Ezekiel uncomfortable. Ezekiel was eager for her to accept his offer and it deepened her suspicions. Her concerns didn’t change her options though. Her chances of survival were much better in the Palace. “Okay I will accept your offer on one condition, my tarvin Samson must be allowed to stay with me”

One side of his mouth quirked up in a half smile. “Very well, but I have a condition of my own.”

Iris’ posture tensed; her eyes narrowed. Ezekiel leaned forward, the lock of hair falling across his face again. “Tell me your name.”

Iris held his stare, her body at war with wanting to lean towards him and pull away.

“Iris”

Ezekiel’s half smile broke into a full one “It’s a deal. You have captivated me Iris, I hope that we can get to know one another.”

Iris scowled and turned her head to look anywhere but at Ezekiel. They didn’t speak again as the carriage continued to make its way through the darkened streets to the Palace. The carriage rolled to a stop when it reached the gates of the palace. The groom greeted the guards. When Iris heard the groaning of the heavy iron and wood gates opening, she pulled back the curtain of the carriage. There were two guards standing in front of the gate. The Palace was surrounded by a stone wall that was broken up with guard houses that had narrow loopholes for archers to use. Leaving the Palace without permission was going to be a challenge, Iris mused. Once through the gates the carriage continued on a short way before coming to a final stop.

Iris’ door was opened by the groom and he offered a hand to help her out of the carriage. She looked past the man and leapt from the carriage lightly, landing on the brick ground. She heard Ezekiel’s quiet laugh behind her as he followed her out of the carriage. They stood in the courtyard of the Palace of the Grand Ruler. In front of them was a large rectangular constructed pond that reflected the cloudy night sky, lilies floated on the surface of the pond and Iris caught a glimpse of a bright orange fish as it darted through the water. The Palace stood behind the pond; a sinking feeling settled into Iris’ core as she took in the imposing structure.

Ezekiel stepped past Iris, his arm brushing her shoulder.

“Follow me, I will show your quarters.” Ezekiel briskly walked around the pond and started up the many stone stairs that led to the entrance of the Palace. The vestibule of the Palace was grand and austere at the same time. The only decoration of the stone architecture was the black and silver flag of Orinth draping down from the ceiling to the floor. The Palace had smooth stone floors and a slight chill to it. It was constructed as a square with gardens in the middle. Pieces of the gardens could be seen through the open widows as they passed. The walls were hung with heavy tapestries and paintings of ageless people Iris did not recognize. Iris knew that the Palace was large, but she had never truly comprehended its enormity until walking for what seemed like eternity through its hallways. Moving through the halls caused a heaviness to seep into her being until it was so much a part of her that she no longer noticed it. After passing numerous closed wooden doors, Ezekiel finally stopped at one, hammering on the door with his fist. A person in the room grumbled and shuffled to open the door. A heavyset woman stood in the opened doorway. She had a riot of curly brown hair and wore a nightgown with a coat over it. She regarded Iris and Ezekiel. When she met Iris’ eyes, her face tightened causing the lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth to deepen.

“Sorry to disturb you at this hour, Penelope, but I was hoping you would help Iris get settled in tonight. I know you have been looking for some more help in the kitchen, so I hired Iris for you.”

“Figures” Penelope grunted. Her forehead crinkled as she scrutinized Iris further. “I am curious at what the interview process was like.”

One side of Ezekiel’s mouth kicked up again and he gave a small bow. “It’s late and I should head back to my rooms, I will replace you, Iris, once you are settled and give you a proper tour of the Palace grounds”.

Iris stared back at Ezekiel and said nothing when he turned to leave.

Penelope let out a heavy sigh. “Well come on girl, I will show you to your room. It’s too late tonight for you to bathe and clean that filth off you.” Iris followed Penelope down the hall a short ways and then down a half flight of stairs. She opened a door to show Iris a small clean room. The room had a bed, a dresser, and a narrow window that let in the moonlight.

“I don’t know what you are used to, but this will have to do,” Penelope stated. “I will send someone for you to take you to the baths in the morning. Once you have cleaned yourself, I expect to see you in the kitchens.” Penelope looked over Iris again with a critical eye. Iris straightened her shoulders and held her stare. Iris knew she was in serious need of a bath and fresh clothes. She had spent the past week sleeping on the streets. But she was a survivor and would not let the cook make her feel self-conscious of her tangled hair and muddy clothes.

Penelope shook her head, “Sir Ezekiel is known for sneaking out to Scarlet Town and fraternizing with the degenerates who live there, but you are the first one that he has brought back to the Palace.” Penelope let her statement hang in the air and left the room, closing the door behind her.

Iris sunk onto the bed. The door had no lock on the inside or outside, the room provided only the semblance of privacy. The clean room made her acutely aware of her own filth. She could not believe the turn of events her life had taken. Iris removed her cloak and draped it on the top of the dresser. She laid down on the bed and tucked her dagger beneath the firm pillow. The past week weighed heavily on her body; she had not been able to sleep for more than an hour at a time since everything had gone wrong. She would assess her new situation tomorrow after her body got some much-needed sleep.

Iris was drifting off into a deep sleep when she was startled awake by Samson jumping through the narrow window landing on her bed. Samson had an uncanny ability to replace her wherever she was. Samson’s right eye gleamed. He held the limp form of an orange fish in his mouth, its reflective scales catching the moonlight. Iris shook her head and watched Samson make dinner of the fish. When Samson was finished, she picked up what remained of the fish and threw it out her window. Comforted by his presence, she laid back and fell into a dreamless sleep while Samson sat beside her meticulously cleaning his paws and face.

Morning came sooner than Iris expected. She was awoken when her door was flung open by a smiling young girl dressed in a simple brown dress and apron. Iris noted that she did not have a cuff on her left arm, indicating she was less than fifteen years old.

“Good morning! I am Jubilee,” she sang in a high voice.

Iris sat up rubbing her temples. Her voice was dry and raspy when she spoke, “what time is it?”

“It’s just before sunrise; if you don’t hurry you are going to be late to the kitchen, and Miss Penelope insisted that you bathe before you are allowed to step foot in her kitchen,” Jubilee only hesitated a second when she took in Iris’ amarath eyes.

Iris groaned; she must have only slept an hour or two, but she would have to catch up on sleep later. Jubilee stepped forward and shoved a pile of folded clean clothes and a bar of soap into Iris’ hands. Jubilee froze and her mouth dropped open.

“Is that a…?”

Iris followed Jubilee’s gaze to Samson.

“Yes, Samson is a tarvin and he has been allowed into the Palace so he can hunt rats,” Iris responded. Samson took a luxurious stretch. Jubilee stepped forward reaching her hand out.

“I wouldn’t touch him, he scratches, and his claws are very sharp,” Iris warned, Samson turned, swished his tail and then bounded out the narrow window.

Jubilee’s smile was hesitant, but she seemed to accept Iris’ explanation for the presence of the rare mountain cat in the Palace.

Jubilee led the way to the bathing chamber. A waft of steam overtook them when Jubilee opened the door to the baths. The baths consisted of a single pool carved into the marble floor. The pool was filled with steaming water. Through the hot steamy air Iris could see several other servants utilizing the baths. “I will be back in fifteen minutes to take you to the kitchens.” Jubilee said in her sing-song voice.

Iris was not uncomfortable with nudity; being friends with Sabine had long since erased that discomfort. She peeled off her sweat and mud caked clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor. Easing her body into the hot water she almost groaned with pleasure. Hot water was a luxury and Iris had never taken a bath with hot water; the heat sank into her body releasing the tension in her sore muscles. She closed her eyes and breathed in the steamy air. Taking a bar of soap, she scrubbed the filth of Scarlet Town from her body and hair. The wound on her back stung as she lathered the soap over it. She had never had a chance to tend to the injury. The past seven days on the streets had made it puffy with infection. The injury was still shallow and with regular cleaning it would heal. She lowered her arm and glanced at her source stone which still held the clear blue color. Iris couldn’t believe she had been given another chance; what she would do with it she did not know. She emerged from the water and used one of the towels that were neatly folded on a nearby bench to dry off. She unfolded the clothes to reveal that she had been given a brown dress similar to Jubilee’s.

“Just perfect,” Iris grumbled to herself. Iris had not worn a dress for the entirety of her adult life. They were cumbersome. In addition, wearing them made it more difficult to gain respect from the hardened men that were part of Exodus Gang. She pulled the dress over her head and was surprised to see that it fit her. Iris had a small, thin frame corded with muscle. she usually found that she was swimming in clothes. The dress was well made with thick rough fabric and had a fitted bodice. The dress covered her back but had a swooping neckline. Iris did not have large breasts but the cut of the dress managed to show her cleavage. Iris sighed internally at the style of the dress; leave it to men to have the servants dressed with their cleavage on display. Iris braided her still damp hair into a long braid that hung down the middle of her back. She was tying on her crisp white apron when Jubilee returned. Iris bent down to put on her sturdy leather boots. She did not like the idea of wearing them without socks but she couldn’t bring herself to pull her dirty socks over her now clean feet. Jubilee reappeared and handed her a pair of fresh stockings and worn leather slippers to wear.

“You can leave your clothes and boots here, they will be cleaned and returned to your rooms.” Jubilee watched Iris slip on her new shoes and turned to leave. Iris took it as her cue to follow.

The kitchens were stifling with a dry heat and bustling with busy kitchen staff. Everyone was in motion, the noise of their activities filling the already crowded space. Penelope gave Iris a disapproving glance and she was handed off to another kitchen servant who showed her the ropes. It was hard work, but Iris caught on quickly. They worked in the kitchen in a continuous cycle of cooking and cleaning from sunrise until sunset. Penelope ran a tight ship, barking orders that the servants rushed to follow. Iris had been relegated to dish duty for the majority of the day. Her golden cuff was the cleanest it had ever been from the warm soapy water and her hands were raw and wrinkled when she finished scrubbing the final dish.

At the end of her first day, she could barely keep her eyes open as she stumbled back to her room. Once in the room she found that her cloak had been laundered and was folded on her bed, her boots had also been cleaned and were neatly arranged on the floor at the end of her bed. Her trousers and shirt were missing. Iris lifted her pillow and cursed when she saw her dagger was missing. She had been half asleep when Jubilee had rushed her out of the room. It was not like her to have left her dagger behind. With her dagger gone she was more aware of how alone she was in the Palace. Iris unfolded her cloak; she ran her fingers over the fresh line of stitching that mended the cut from the Inspector’s sword. She pulled the cloak tightly around her, taking comfort in its familiarity.

The next couple of days passed in a similar manner, laboring from sunrise to sunset in the kitchens. Her fellow workers looked upon her with distrust, not speaking to her unless ordering her to do something. Iris was not surprised by their response given her late night arrival and the ebony and silver color of her eyes. At the end of the day Jubilee would escort her back to her room, even though Iris was fully capable of getting to and from the kitchens by herself. Iris had the distinct feeling that if she chose to not follow Jubilee to her rooms, Jubilee would be reporting her actions to somebody. She took advantage of the time to let her body catch up on much-needed sleep. The dark circles below her eyes began to vanish. Jubilee would greet Iris every morning and they would head to the bath house together. Iris got used to the morning soaks. The swelling at the edges of the wound on her back receded and it was itchy with the process of healing. Samson joined Iris each night and curled up next to her in bed, his deep purr lulling her to sleep. What Samson did during the day was a mystery to her. Iris’ sleep was plagued by the familiar nightmares of the mines and her family’s murder as well the fresh memory of the Inspectors materializing from the fog and the sound of Maddox’s pain.

Iris had been staying at the Palace and working in the kitchens for a week when she returned to her room and decided it was time to start exploring the Palace. She needed to come up with a plan and perhaps replace her dagger. Iris had not seen or heard from Ezekiel since she had arrived and she was beginning to think that he had forgotten about her. She didn’t like that she felt disappointed by the thought, being forgotten by him made things much simpler for her. He was one of the Grand Ruler’s sons and she was a drug dealer from Scarlet Town; did she really think that he would follow up on his promise to give her a tour of the Palace?

The weather in Orinth was temperate and the mild winter was transitioning to spring. She would not need to wear her cloak when she explored the Palace tonight. Instead, she dressed in one of the two brown dresses that counted as her uniform for the kitchens and the thin leather slippers. When she opened her door Iris came face to face with one of the Palace guards. Her stomach dropped. Had they somehow figured out her connection to Exodus and the trade of azure?

The guard recovered from the shock of Iris opening the door and cleared his throat. “Sir Ezekiel asked me to retrieve you and bring you to the Palace gardens to meet him.”

Relief washed over her, followed by annoyance. Iris frowned; she wanted to decline the request but couldn’t think of a good enough excuse.

“I see, Ezekiel is too good to be seen down in the servant’s quarters, so he had to send a guard to fetch me.” The guard looked back at her, unphased by her response.

“Okay fine, lead the way, Sir.” She didn’t attempt to keep the sarcasm from her voice.