Slave to Sapphire

The guard led her through the Palace to the Garden and Iris made careful observations of the route that he was taking. She took in all the portraits that hung on the walls, not one of the people depicted appeared to be much over the age of twenty-five. As they entered the nicer areas of the Palace, they passed several of the wealthy who inhabited and visited the Palace. To the wealthy that roamed the halls, Iris did not exist, their eyes always looking past her. If they acknowledged her, her misfortune may infect them. They were all finely clothed and beautiful, none of them looking older than the portraits on the walls; their golden cuffs were polished and gleaming with dark purple source stones. Their presence filled Iris with hatred.

It was the misfortune of the poor that allowed the wealthy to hoard large amounts of life source. The wealthy accumulated hundreds of years of life, making them practically immortal. In the minds of the wealthy, the system was fair and those who succeeded were rewarded with near immortality and those who failed expired.

At the age of fifteen, everyone had a golden cuff placed on their left arm. Fitted in the cuff was a round piece of source stone that had been mined from the Amarath Mines. Prior to being connected to a person’s life source the stone was an inky black with starry flecks of silver. Once a source stone within a cuff was placed on a person it turned a lavender color, indicating that their life source had been transferred to the stone. The cuffs and source stone were placed by the Ministry of The Repository. After a cuff had been placed a Ministry official would then transfer the entirety of that person’s life source to a larger source stone. Just before your heart took its final beat, one year of life was given back to your source stone by the Ministry official. Ministry officials were the only people that had the capability of taking life source from a person’s source stone. After your source stone was placed, you were expected to work and to use what coin you had after paying for housing and food to purchase life source from the Repository. The Repository contained a cache of larger source stones that held all the life source that was taken when the citizens of Orinth’s cuffs were placed. You could not purchase less than one year of life at a time and the source stones could hold a maximum of one hundred years of life. The poorest of Orinth usually took the entire year to save up enough money to purchase one more year of life. Eventually something in their life would go wrong, a family member would get sick, there would be an unexpected business expense, and they would not have enough coin at the end of the year to buy more source. If someone did not have enough coin to purchase another year of life, they were left with the choice to die or work a year in the Amarath Mines. The constant buying of one year of life at a time caused the poor to age at a normal rate, which could be seen in the rare few who made it into their thirties. It was much different for the wealthy. As soon as their cuff was placed their parents would purchase as large of a quantity of life source that they could afford and have it transferred to their children’s source stone. The extremely wealthy kept their source stones filled with one hundred years of life, refilling it with more every year. This not only allowed them to live as long as there was life source in their stone but it kept them from aging once they reached maturity. The surplus of life source also gave them the ability to rapidly heal from non-fatal wounds. It was said that the healing process did drain their life source, but life source was an expendable commodity for the elites of Orinth. A dark thought crossed Iris’ mind; the wealthy could live forever under the right circumstances, but they would just as easily die from a dagger to the kidney as a criminal from Scarlet Town.

Iris’ head was occupied with murderous thoughts when the guard she was following rounded the corner and they stepped out into the gardens. It was a lovely night, the air unusually warm for the time of year with a cool ocean breeze that ruffled Iris’ straight black hair.

“I am not sure I want to know what you are thinking of with that scowl on your face,” Ezekiel said in a playful voice. His appreciative gaze took in Iris and her ridiculous brown dress. Ezekiel cut a striking figure in his tailored charcoal gray pants and crisp white blouse. The sleeves of his blouse were rolled up to expose his fair skin to the warm night air. He sported a fitted deep blue vest over his blouse that further accentuated the color of his eyes. Ezekiel did not have the form of a man that was used to hard labor and fighting, but the lean muscles of someone who had leisure time for daily exercise.

“You would be right in your assumption,” Iris growled.

Ezekiel grinned and offered his arm to her. When Iris made no attempt to take it, he dropped his arm, unphased by her rejection.

“I am sorry I didn’t call on you sooner, there is much happening right now. The Grand Ruler’s Inspectors have been keeping me very busy. But never mind about that. I promised you a tour of the Palace and I figured we would start off with the gardens.”

Iris’ interest was piqued at the mention of the Inspectors. She would have to be careful with her line of questioning. It was clear that Ezekiel knew very little about her and her involvement in the criminal organizations of Orinth. She forced herself to smile and take Ezekiel’s arm, but her clenched jaw probably made her smile look more like a grimace. Ezekiel either didn’t notice or didn’t care. She rested her hand on the defined muscles of his forearm. She was surprised at how comfortable it felt to take his arm as they strolled through the gardens. The gardens were beautiful. They were also massive, consisting of clear pools connected by streams. The ponds were populated with the orange, red, yellow and gold fish that Samson seemed so fond of. The fish darted beneath the water lilies that were adorned with flowers in colors ranging from vibrant yellow, pure white, light purple and a pink that was almost magenta. Lush green vegetation surrounded the edges of the pools and walkways. The large ferns and hibiscus crowded together to provide a sense of privacy as they walked.

“Do you always refer to your father as the Grand Ruler?” Iris inquired.

Ezekiel frowned, “I have never thought of him as a father, I am one of over sixty of his legitimate children and I can count on one hand the number of conversations that we have had.”

Iris tried to keep an empathetic expression on her face. Poor neglected rich boy.

“Now that I have answered your question, I have one for you. Your eyes, how did they come to be?”

“When I was sixteen, I didn’t have enough coin to buy another year of life. I went to the Amarath Mines. I survived a year in the mines and my irises turned black and silver. At the end of the year my contract was up and I had mined enough source stone to buy one more year of life.” Iris recounted the story in a detached monotone voice. Her time in the mines was not something she liked to dwell on.

“I had heard that the constant exposure to the dust in the mines causes people’s eyes to turn the color of the stone but I have never seen it before.”

“That’s because almost no one survives a full year in the mines. But to answer your actual question, No I was not sent there because I was a criminal.” Her statement was technically true, she was and had been a criminal but that is not why she had ended up in the mines. Memories of the mines flooded Iris’ thoughts and her palms started to sweat. She needed to change the topic quickly. Her year in the mines had been traumatic. The past nine years had done little to dull her physical response to remembering her time in the mines.

Desperate to change the topic she looked down at his dark purple source stone and asked “So, what is it that you actually do with your infinite amount of time?”

“I manage the Amarath Mines.”

Iris choked on her surprise, “You manage the mines and you have never seen someone with eyes like mine?”

“Well, I have never actually been to the mines,” he offered.

Iris had no response.

“It has really never been necessary, it’s all paperwork. Accounting for the costs of running the mine, keeping the production of source consistent so there is enough for the Repository and the placement of cuffs, and overseeing the trade of source stone with Volos. My subordinates visit the mines and report back to me. I am very good at delegating,” He smiled.

Iris rolled her eyes, “What do the Grand Ruler’s Inspectors have to do with Amarath Mines?”

“The Inspectors just confiscated a large shipment of azure from Volos, and they have chosen to involve me. With source stone being the largest export to Volos, I am the main point of contact with the Volos trade commission. The azure had to have come on one of the trading boats docked at our ports from Volos.” Ezekiel sighed, “I don’t know why we are still talking about this tedious government business; I want to know more about you, and I believe I have just answered two questions from you.”

Ezekiel was talking about the shipment she had orchestrated; she needed to figure out how much the Grand Ruler’s Inspectors knew. She guessed that continuing to question him now about the investigation would only raise Ezekiel’s suspicions. Another couple lost deep in conversation drifted past them. The couple’s heads tilted towards one another; their arms linked. She would have to keep things friendly with Ezekiel if she planned to ply him for more information in the future.

Ezekiel broke her from her thoughts, “Tell me something about yourself.”

“I hate wearing dresses, and I used to have a very sharp dagger that went missing along with my blouse and trousers.” Iris bit her lip, she wasn’t good at being friendly.

Ezekiel gave her his half smile; Iris was coming to recognize it as a common expression when he was around her. “I am afraid your clothes were beyond cleaning and were discarded.”

“And my dagger?”

“The dagger is locked in the armory; servants are not allowed to have weapons on the Palace grounds.”

“I like to think of it as a tool instead of a weapon and I don’t appreciate my room being searched.”

His half smile turned into a full smile, and he let out a deep laugh. The sound of his laugh gave her a fluttery feeling in her abdomen. Hopefully she wasn’t developing indigestion.

“You are unlike any woman I have met Iris.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Iris said as she gestured to the Palace surrounding them.

“I will instruct the guards that your room is not to be searched again.”

“Thank you.” She hesitated; her response elicited a small smile from Ezekiel. “Not that it matters since my personal belongings have already been rifled through and taken.”

They were looping back to where they had started their stroll.

“Please let me show you more of the Palace. Tomorrow night, I can take you to the library.”

“Fine.”

Ezekiel did not bother to hide the relief on his face at the acceptance of his offer. “But I have one condition.”

“Of course, you do,” he drawled.

“I won’t wear this dress; I expect a clean blouse and trousers to be delivered to my room before I meet with you again.”

“But you look so lovely in a dress.”

“You didn’t seem to mind my clothes so much when you got all handsy with me in the alleyway the other night.”

Ezekiel snorted, “I remember it that you were the one who instigated things.”

Iris turned and glared at him.

Ezekiel raised his hands in surrender, “You win, I will have a clean pair of trousers and a blouse sent to your room.”

Iris gave a hint of a smile, “I look forward to seeing the library tomorrow.”

Iris started to walk away when Ezekiel called out, “Iris.”

She turned to face him.

“Please try to keep Samson from killing all of the fish in the ponds.”

Iris grinned, “I am not sure what you are talking about, Samson only eats rats.” She continued to make her way back inside the palace. She wasn’t sure why the fact that he remembered Samson’s name had made her smile.

When Iris stepped back inside the Palace, she did not see the guard waiting for her. She decided to not let the opportunity go to waste and to do some exploring. From the tapestries on the walls, Iris recognized that she was near the main entrance of the Palace. She picked up her pace, reaching the grand entrance, and made her way down the stone stairs. The stairs had been carved with a military precision and were smooth from the thousands of feet that had traversed them over the past centuries. Iris headed to the large rectangular pond in the courtyard and took a seat on the cold stone ledge that surrounded it. From her vantage point she could take in the defense system of the palace and the guards that seemed to be equally concerned with those entering the Palace gates as those leaving. Iris was not currently in need of escaping the Palace but past experiences had taught her to always have an escape plan ready.

The stone walls surrounding the palace were too tall to scale. The multiple guard towers with archers armed with crossbows at the ready further dissuaded climbing the walls. The Grand Ruler referred to himself as the Ruler of the people; the amount of protection around the Palace seemed unnecessary. In Iris’ short life she had never witnessed the unrest of revolution. The people of Scarlet Town were too downtrodden, and the merchants of Lavender district were too focused on holding on to the little wealth they had. There were still whispers of tales of past failed revolutions, but with the short lifespans of the poor, the details of these stories were forgotten.

The only way in and out of the Palace grounds was through the wood and iron gates. When the gates were closed, a substantial iron bar was placed across them. A lever and pulley system were used to open and close the gates. The sun had set a couple of hours ago and the comings and goings of people at the Palace were dwindling. Only a few carriages were seen coming in and out of the gates. Iris had yet to see someone enter or leave on foot. Carriages that were painted a glossy black with a silver trim could leave with less scrutiny, Iris assumed those to be official carriages of The Grand Ruler. The best way to pass in and out of the Palace was hidden in one of the carriages, preferably one of the Grand Ruler’s official carriages. Iris sat deep in thought, turning the idea over in her head, thinking of different ways to get in one of the carriages unnoticed. She would need to get a closer look at the carriages, which would be stored near the horse stables. Next time she saw Ezekiel, she would ask him to take her to the stables to look at the horses. She could then sneak back at a later time for a more thorough investigation.

The process of planning gave Iris a sense of control that she hadn’t realized she had been missing the past week. She let her mind go back to the fateful night when everything fell apart. She hadn’t let herself spend time reviewing the events of that night; she had been so focused on selling the source stone for Cora. Since she had arrived at the Palace, she had been in a daze working in the kitchens and collapsing into her bed each night. The image of Maddox falling to the ground with the bolt from the crossbow in his shoulder came unbidden to her. A sense of grief started rising and she immediately shut her emotions down and barricaded them behind her carefully constructed mental wall. She had erected the wall thirteen years ago to contain the crushing grief of her family’s murder. Whenever the wall started to crumble over the years, she would reinforce it, thickening it. The wall kept her emotions from overwhelming her, but it also served to block Iris from forming relationships with people. Maddox was one of the few people that she had come to rely on and trust, though she never let him truly know her.

When Iris first met Maddox he was selling azure for the Daggers. Their paths crossed when she outbid him for a batch of azure that the Crimson Gang had purchased from Volos. When Maddox learned that he had lost out on a batch of azure to Iris he had attempted to attack her. He planned on forcing her to give the azure over to him. Iris, however, had predicted his plan and she was not caught unaware. Maddox had ended up on the floor with Iris straddling him and a dagger to his throat. Iris was still unsure why she hadn’t slit his throat then and there, but there must have been something that she had seen in him. Instead, she had punched him in the face, breaking his nose, and offered him a job working for her. The memory brought a small smile to her face followed by the sadness of his death.

Iris was brought from her thoughts by the heavy footsteps of an approaching guard.

“Excuse me miss, but servants are not supposed to be loitering in the courtyard of the Palace.”

Iris fought to keep her eyes from rolling; she pulled back her shoulders and looked through her lashes at the guard. “I am so sorry sir, I am new here and I heard there was a tarvin on the Palace grounds and I was hoping to catch a glimpse of him.”

The guard cleared his throat, his eyes lingering on the neckline of her dress. “I see, but I must ask you to leave and head back to the servant quarters.”

Iris stood up, resting her hand on her chest keeping his attention on her cleavage. “Of course, I will make my way now, could you do me a favor and please not report me.”

“I can see that it was a simple misunderstanding. Now that you know the rules it won’t happen again.”

“I can’t thank you enough,” Iris kept her voice barely above a whisper. Maybe there were some benefits to wearing a dress, she thought.

“Do you need me to escort you back to your quarters, miss?” The guard’s voice was rough and his eyes shone with lust.

Iris demurely shook her head.

“I trust you will go straight back to your quarters.” The sternness returning to his voice.

Iris inclined her head. She could feel his gaze burrowing into her back as she walked up the Palace steps. Iris made her way back to her room, careful not to draw further attention to herself. Her encounter with the guard had shown her that the movements of the servants were more restricted than she thought. In addition, her unique eyes made her instantly recognizable.

When Iris made it back to her room she flopped onto her bed. Working in the kitchen was physically tiring, her time with Ezekiel and memories of Maddox had mentally drained her. Samson leapt through the window to join her; she was thankful for his familiar presence. Samson stretched out next to her offering his belly for a rub. She gave Samson three rough scratches on his belly knowing that a fourth would elicit a bite from him.

“What am I supposed to do next Samson?”

Samson answered with a meow that was garbled with a purr. Despite her weariness, she couldn’t calm her mind. Iris rolled on her side hoping sleep would find her. Did Maddox forgive her for leaving his dying form? He deserved more than having his memory shoved behind her mental walls… her family deserved more, too. Soundless tears fell down her cheeks and she eventually drifted off to sleep.