The Vixen Trials

A Deal

"You picked too pretty"

Keilah

"And my daughter?" Lord Rustavan repeated, louder this time.

"We'll sort that out later. She'll be taken care of," Baba said in a dismissive tone.

Lord Rustavan glowered at his mother. "You just miss your gaggle of women," he hissed.

"I want to be back among the favoured," Baba agreed. "The Queen-Priestess ails for all her demands of fresh blood. We can present Keilah for The Vixen Trials and the gift of reparation is an easy choice now. Why did he risk it, do you think? Not because of her beauty. She's not his type."

"It is curious. I will find out, one way or another." He fixed his gaze on Keilah. "How co-operative will you prove to be, niece?"

"Why do you want me for The Vixen Trials?" she asked, shifting her feet.

"The young Prince has returned," Baba answered. "He must ally himself with one of the Houses through marriage. You would be our offering."

"What if he picks me and I don't like him?"

Baba let out a titter, winking at her uncle as she did so, before covering her mouth with her thin, wrinkled hand. "It doesn't quite work like that my dear. But he's a catch and eventually you'll get to be the Queen-Priestess, the highest person in all the land. Even if he were old and ugly, he'd be worth it. I'd marry him myself if I were younger."

Why shouldn't she try to become Queen? Of course she wouldn't be chosen but it would be fun to try. She'd get to see life in the palace and meet royalty. Keilah straightened. "I'll do it on one condition." 

"Yes?" There was an undertone of menace to her uncle's tone, although he maintained his polite demeanor.

She swallowed. "My mother's village. I want it protected from raids."

"That's all?"

Keilah shook her head, missing the feel of her tresses on her shoulders. "All my life I've been called a Wayvolkan. The Vene-Jaakan never really accepted me. I want to live on this House and learn what it is to be a Wayvolkan Lady."

The sternness left her uncle's face. "So you shall. You will keep that village of yours safe, so long as you do as we ask. In the meantime, you must learn our ways so that you do not disgrace us. Your grandmother will organize your training herself."

Baba let out an excited breath. "And make you a gorgeous dress, a stunning creation that will draw all eyes to you. We must start that now."

Her uncle's lips curved in a smile, revealing pointed teeth, though his eyes remained unchanged.

"My niece," he said to Keilah and Baba pranced up to her and kissed her on the cheek, bringing with her the scent of golden water and mandarins. Keilah kissed her back and felt a swell of warmth in her chest. She was accepted by them, welcomed as kin. Her grandmother drew her over to her salon and beckoned to a maid who fussed around her, measuring her for a dress. Then she heard the sound of footsteps. She turned her head and saw Dakkoul hovering at the entrance of the room.

A shriek of protest came from behind her from her grandmother. "The Hattavah is not to cross the threshold. He'll frighten me to death."

Her uncle gave a gravelly sort of laugh. "If that sort of thing killed you mother, you'd have been dead long ago. I thought you'd want to hear what he said."

Her Baba pursed her lips, "You know me too well."

Dakkoul halted before them, his feet apart, his hands straight by his sides, an unscrutable expression on his face. He did not once look her way.