Cloudfall

Chapter One

LINNET

I was eleven when I first learned that my marriage would be one of alliences and political gain, not one of love.

I only remembers bits and pieces of the conversation; it was mostly full of words like "powerful armies" "technological advancements" and "for the best", but I remember every detail of that room. What I was wearing (my soft brown pants, worn brown boots, and the old green jacket that was about four sizes too big), the way the fire crackled in the fireplace, the way Mama's eyes were creased in the corners.

I also remember leaving that room and crying. Because even at eleven, I was a romantic, and had dreamed of my future wedding, of my future spouse, of a life of love and commitment and the absolute knowing that you married your soulmate.

To find out that, at best, I would have a marriage that consisted of no ill feelings to each other, at best, was heartbreaking.

It still is heartbreaking, even as each minute brings me closer and closer to the marriage arranged by my parents so long ago.

I felt the jolt and tremble of the airship below my feet, and rested a hand against the smooth metal wall. my lady-in-waiting was attempting to yank my hair into some semblance of a tame hairstyle, despite knowing that my corkscrew curls would refuse any attempt to appear in any way that seemed neat and tidy.

Giving up on the elaborate braided bun she was trying to style, she twisted my hair into a bun, with a few loose curls escaping around my face. She gave them a dirty look, but knew that it would be a worthless expanse of energy. Briskly brushing her hands together, she stepped back to look me over.

I held out my arms and spun in a quick circle, and Althea nodded in approval. "Very nice, princess."

She reached out to brush out a tiny wrinkle in the skirt of my dress. I went to sit, and she yelped, grabbing my arm and pulling me back up. "You'll crease it!" And, spying my shoes, yelped again.

"Linnet! Your boots!"

I quickly go to pull my skirts over my feet, but it's too late. Althea has already seen my shoes; not the delicate brown things I was originally supposed to wear, but my boots; soft and worn and comfortable, unlike the pinching heals.

The shaking of the airship gets harder, and Althea looks like she's about to pass out. "Just...don't do anything that will show too much of your shoes, okay?"

I only half listen to her and she drones on and on about the ettiquite for these people, and instead plaster my gaze outside the window, watching, watching.

They appear suddenly, out of the clouds. Buildings of white and silver and gray, fields of dark brown grass, the gray stone streets, the airship dock; built of a pale wood and stretching out over the abyss below. The floating islands of Cirropia, suspended in the sky, miles above the ground.

The ship slides smoothly down to dock, and as it does, Mama appears from around the curtain, where she was sitting with Amberly. She cups my face with her hands, looking me over. Her half-dozen thin golden bracelets jingle and bump against my cheeks.

"Linnet," she says, all softness and quiet proudness. She hesitates, as if she wants to say something else, but instead just presses her lips to my forehead before stopped backing.

I feel the shudder as the ship docks, and Althea squeezes my arm. I push aside the curtain, nearly crashing into Amberly, who was waiting just outside. She bounces impatiently on her toes, her green dress making the gentle rushing sounds of stiff fabric against stiff fabric.