Ch.18 Maps

Chapter 18

After repairing the ceiling in the conservatory, Wren held the door open and waited for Birdie to exit before him. He grew slightly impatient as she took her sweet time, almost as if saying goodbye to each and every bird in the room. He would have asked her to speed things along if he didn't catch the sad look in her eyes as the bluejay hurried along with her on her trail, causing Birdie to stop and run her finger over it's tiny head.

"You can come back anytime you want," Wren said, watching her crouch beside the bird and stroke it's blue feathers.

"Hm," Birdie nodded.

Wren had not expected her to give him such a calm reply. He was waiting for her fiery eyes to snap up at him and tell him to fuck off. But when her attention stayed on the bird and her lips displayed a deep frown, he got the feeling she wasn't so upset about not being able to see the birds.

"I'm trying to help them, Birdie," Wren began to explain as Birdie rose to her feet and made her way over to the door.

Birdie didn't reply.

"They won't survive in the outside world," Wren continued.

"You're suffocating them," Birdie said, looking straight ahead, her face unreadable.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Wren felt a strange heavy pressure inside his chest.

With a heavy sigh, Birdie shrugged, "It means nothing, Wren."

Wren didn't believe her. He could still feel the heavy weight on his chest. He knew it was the girl standing beside him. Her emotions were laced with his.

The two walked back to Wren's chamber and separated as if they couldn't wait to get away from one another. Wren made his way over to the table with his books and maps as Birdie walked over to the balcony and sat down in the sun.

It was a beautiful day with bright sunlight and a cool breeze. They were nowhere near the beach, but Birdie could almost imagine she was there if she closed her eyes. Inside the room, the sheer curtains blew with the wind, cutting off Wren's view of the girl sitting on the balcony every few seconds.

Every time he thought he had gained his concentration, his eyes would flutter back up to make sure she hadn't jumped off the balcony. Her brass cuffs were in his pocket. He knew he should put them back on but it was never a pleasant sight to see how the brass made their skin red as if it was constantly burning them. And beside, Wren thought, he was sitting in the same room as her. If she tried anything funny, he would catch her.

"Why Pangea?" Birdie asked after several long minutes of stretched silence.

"Pardon me?" Wren looked up from the book he couldn't concentrate on.

"Why is this place called Pangea?" Birdie asked, walking back into the room.

"Pan, meaning whole and gaia, meaning land," Wren closed the book and placed it in front of him. "Come here."

Birdie's eyes narrowed and as soon as Wren saw, he rolled his eyes.

"I want to show you a map," he said. "Relax."

"You could have just said that," Birdie frowned. "Let me show you this map, Birdie. Not, come here. Stop ordering me around."

Wren marveled at how confident she was with her words. Each word she said dripped with a sense of authority he didn't know where she conjured up from. She fascinated him. Wren couldn't remember the last time he had met another person who peaked his curiosity so intensely.

"Let me show you this map," he smiled, stepping aside and making space for Birdie beside him.

With weary eyes, Birdie slowly walked over to the desk. Wren bit back the laughter he felt rise up in him from the way she avoided being too close to him.

"This is a map of Pangea," Wren leaned forward and rolled out a large poster. "We are right here, in Xaiba."

"The falls are right behind us," Birdie's eyes scanned the grand hand painted map.

"Yes," Wren nodded. "These are the other cities and this is the canal that leads out of the city and into the Glass Sea."

With his finger, Wren began to trace the canal.

"My grandfather helped build it," he explained. "It was the key factor in making Xaiba the central power that it is."

"Well, of course," Birdie said. "You built the canal and it has turned Xaiba into a megahub for trade. All the goods are now flowing up and down the canal at your will. You can tax them however you want."

"Yes," Wren nodded, a bit stunned by her insight.

"That's behind the falls?" Birdie traced her finger up the canal and towards the mountains.

"More mountains and valleys," Wren said. "It's inhabitable."

"Why?"

"Too much rain. The air is too thick."

"And what's behind Deserati?" Birdie traced her finger back down the canal towards the other side of the glass sea.

"The glass lands."

"What's there?"

When Wren didn't answer right away, Birdie looked up to find the fey watching her with a strange look on her face.

"What?" She asked.

"If you were really from Pangea, you would know what's in the glass lands," Wren teased.

"I'm testing to see if you know your land," Birdie looked back down at the map. "You're always here, lost in your books. Do you even go outside to see your people?"

"I do," Wren chuckled. "Go on. I'll give you all the answers you want."

"I'm just testing to see how much you know," Birdie made clear.

"Of course," Wren played along.

"Why is it called the glass land?"

"Because of the glass giants."

"Giants?" Birdie tried to keep her voice even and hide her surprise.

"Yeah," Wren nodded with a playful smile on his face.

Birdie narrowed her eyes suspiciously, "Why are they called glass giants, Wren?"

"Come on," Wren laughed. "This is basic history class. I thought you would ask harder questions."

"I didn't think you were that bright," Birdie said. "I'm starting off light."

"Fair," Wren said. "Okay, go on."

"Why are they called glass giants?"

"Because when you summon them, they pull on the little shards of glass from the sa-"

The prince did not have a change to finish as the door opened and Julian walked in. The guard's eyes fell on both Birdie and Wren standing behind his desk before he cleared his throat and waited for the prince to call him forward.

"Yes?" Wren asked.

"Lady Maisha is here," Julian announced. "The queen has requested your presence, your grace."

Like a dark cloud rolling over the horizon, Wren felt his good mood vanish. The thought of having to see Darrian along with Maisha and her father was dreadful. It would be agonizing to sit through their meaningless conversations and shallow complements.

"Thank you," Wren said, his face unreadable. "Please take Birdie back to her roo-"

As Wren began to say the words, he saw the way Julian's eyes moved towards the girl. If he didn't know any better, he thought he imagined Birdie taking a small step backwards as the guard fixed his attention on her.

"Never-mind," Wren said, collecting his books and putting them away. "She'll stay here."

"Here?" Julian asked. "Alone?"

"Yes," Wren said.

"I'll watch her."

Wren's eyes moved towards Birdie as she glared at the guard. Her hands balled into fists by her side as the tips of her ears turned red. She still had the faint marks on her cheeks from the last time she was alone with Julian.

"It's alright," Wren said, walking around his desk.

"Are you sure?" Julian hesitated as he looked at the prince.

"I'm sure," Wren said, impatiently. "Now go tell the king I'm on my way."

"Yes, your grace," Julian bowed and headed out before the prince.

"What am I supposed to do?" Birdie asked from where she remained standing behind Wren's desk.

Wren slowly turned and looked at her. He was tempted to give her a childish task to piss her off but he couldn't think of one off the top of his head.

"Take care of my books," he said instead. "Lock the doors behind me."

"Set them on fire? Okay!"

"Very funny," Wren rolled his eyes and reached for the door handle. He was almost out when he paused and looked back at the girl. "I'm serious. If you burn my books, I'll strangle you."

Birdie looked as if she wanted to throw a threat back at him when Wren knew just what to say to really piss her off.

"I know you're into that kind of stuff," he smirked.

Birdie's eyes widened as if lightning had struck the sky. Her jaw unhinged and she gasped, ready to fire away with her sharp tongue.

Laughing, Wren slipped out the door before she could utter a word. He heard her groan loudly from inside as something banged against the table. The two guards standing outside in the hall looked at the prince as he howled with laughter.

"You two," he called to them, trying to control himself. "Don't let anyone in until I return."

"Yes, your grace," the guards bowed.

"And don't let her out either," Wren said. "Even if she threatens to set you on fire or chop off your limbs."

The two guards looked at each other with confusion.

"She's harmless," Wren said to ease them.

At that moment he once again remembered Birdie's brass cuffs inside his pocket. He knew the right thing to do would be to go back inside and put them on her. But Wren was sure if he went back in after his comment, Birdie would be waiting with a knife.

"Just stay alert," he told the guards. "Find me if anything happens."

As the guards took up post, Wren turned and headed down the hall. He made his way to the garden where he knew his mother loved to have her afternoon tea. She was very fond of the lilies and bees. Darrian, not so much. Maybe that's why the queen spent most of her time there. Her bees kept the king away.

Wren moved down the hall in silence with his hands behind his back. His sharp eyes swept over the people in the hall with a coldness that was uninviting. He wasn't fond of small talk and by now, everyone at the palace had learned that.

Yes, there were a few ladies who still wished to, relentlessly, try out their luck. They batted their lashes and paused to admire the flowers, hoping to catch the prince' attention. But Wren found them all intolerable. He walked past them, holding his breath to avoid their strong perfumes. His eyes stayed forward as if he wasn't even aware of them begging for his attention.

"So nice of you to finally pull your head out of your books."

Wren stopped as the familiar voice spoke up from behind him. He took in a deep breath before turning on his heels to face the girl standing behind him.

"Hello...you," he said as politely as he could.

"Hello, you," Maisha, a high blood fey with midnight black hair that reached her waist, flashed a coy smile as she approached the prince.

"So nice to have you back at court," Wren took her hand and placed a small kiss on it, his lips barely touching her skin.

"Thank you, your grace," Maisha blushed. Her lavender eyes, surrounded by thick dark lashes, fluttered. "It's so good to see you after so long."

"How was your pottery class?"

"Water painting," Maisha corrected Wren with a small smile.

"My apologies."

"It's alright," Maisha laughed. "The class was excellent. I learned a lot. I'm hoping to take some time off and visit Deserati so I can capture some moments of the struggles of life and paint it."

"Take some time off from what?" Wren wondered.

"From court," Maisha laughed once more.

"Ah, yes," Wren nodded. "People don't understand how busy life gets in Xaiba."

"Exactly," Maisha nodded. "The winter solstice is coming up and there's so much to prepare for. I haven't had a chance to meet with my dress maker yet and I know he's only going to get busier as the other ladies start returning back to court."

"Must be very stressful right now," Wren fought the urge to roll his eyes with all his might.

"It is," Maisha frowned. "That is why I am trying to plan some time to paint after all this is over."

"Hm," Wren nodded. "How does your father feel about you going to Deserati?"

"Oh he's horrified," Maisha's eyes widened. "He is absolutely disgusted by the idea of me being surrounded by moors. I was told I could not go unless I had at least ten guards with me at all times."

"Ten guards?" Wren arched his brow. "To paint?"

"I understand his worries," Maisha slowly nodded her head. "If I am being completely honest, I am a bit scared about being around them too. They don't wear brass cuffs."

Suddenly, Wren thought about the jinn upstairs in his room walking around without her brass cuffs.

"It's a scary thought," he said.

"It is," Maisha sighed. "But I am determined. I want to capture their life in my art work."

"Good for you," Wren said as he began to walk towards the garden.

"What have you been up to?" Maisha followed.

I want a wedding by the end of the season.

Wren bit down on the groan that almost came out of his lips. He flickered his gaze towards the girl beside him, making her blush.

"Just missing someone terribly at court while they were away," Wren said.

"Oh," Maisha was red as a rose. She fiddled with her hair and bit down on her bottom lip as she looked for something to say.

Wren looked away from the girl to find his mother gawking at them from across the lawn. She had a small smile on her lip as she motioned towards the flowers on the bushes. Wren arched his brow as if not understanding what she was telling him to do.

"Thank you for the special invitation," Maisha said.

"The what?" Wren looked down at her.

"The invite," Maisha laughed. "The roses and the gifts? For the winter solstice. You're too kind, your grace."

"It was my pleasure," Wren looked at his mother, knowing very well what the woman was up to. "Speaking of flowers."

Casually, Wren leaned over one of the bushes and plucked a rose. When he turned back towards Maisha, he swore he could hear her heart beating out of her chest. Carefully, taking great care not to touch her, he placed the rose behind her ear and tucked her hair along with it.

"Wren," Maisha giggled. "Stop it. Everyone's watching us."

As if you're not eating this up, Wren wanted to laugh.

"Did you like the gifts I sent?" He asked instead.

"Yes, they were very beautiful."

"Good."

"Will you be at dinner tonight?"

"Yes." Unfortunately.

"I am very excited."

"For dinner?"

"No," Maisha shook with a girly giggle. "To see this fey-like moor."

"What?" Wren stilled.

"King Darrian was telling me about her," Maisha continued. "He said she looks completely fey."

"She's not coming to dinner," Wren dismissed the idea.

"No, of course she's not having dinner with us. She will be performing along with the other girl....what was her name again?"

Birdie? Performing? Whose brilliant idea was this?

"Did Darrian make these plans?" Wren asked with annoyance.

"I believe so."

"Yeah of course," Wren muttered. "Sounds just like him."

"You don't approve?"

Wren felt his hands ball into fists behind his back as he heard his uncle's voice. It took everything in him not to twist his face to show off the amount of irritation running through his blood.

"You can't have her all to yourself all the time," Darrian laughed.

Wren turned and arched his brow, "Why not?"

"We want to see the wonder too," Darrian looked at Maisha and winked. "She must be something if you keep her locked away."

"I am very curious to see her," Maisha chimed in. "How is it possible for a moor to look like one of us? That's just....wrong."

"The world is becoming a dangerous place," Darrian sipped the wine in his cup. "She's the first of her kind we know of. Who knows what else is hiding in the slums of Desarti."

"Why don't we just get rid of all the slums?" Maisha looked at Darrian and then at Wren. "It's such an eye sore whenever you have to ride past the glass sea."

"Get rid of them?" Wren's brows furrowed. "Where would the ji...moors live?"

"I don't know," Maisha shrugged. "Push them further into the glass lands."

"Not a bad idea," Darrian laughed. "I like you little lady. You have the mind of a visionary. Don't you think so, Tamzin?"

"Yes," Wren said dryly. "She's just full of ideas."

"Your father tells me you're taking a painting trip down to Deserati in a few weeks," Darrian asked the girl.

"Yes," Maisha said proudly as if she was going to save mankind.

"Take Tamzin with you."

"That's not nes-" Wren tried to protest.

"A beautiful young girl like her should not go alone," Darrian frowned. "You need to make sure she is safe. Hopefully one day she will be your lady and you will have to always make sure she is taken care of."

Darrian's words made Maisha blush. Wren wanted to gag from how red her cheeks were. Did the girl know any other form of expression other than that empty doe eye stare? Did she ever twitch her mouth or tell people to fuck off or narrow her eyes to the point where they appeared like silver daggers?

As Wren caught wind of his thought, he was suddenly alarmed. He cleared his throat uncomfortably as his gaze flickered up to his balcony.

"Don't be so shy you two," Darrian teased. "Love is a beautiful thing."

"Excuse me a moment, your grace," Maisha bowed and hurried off, her face and neck so red, Wren feared she was permanently stained.

Darrian howled with laughter as he watched the girl hurry off with a friend. He placed a hand on Wren's shoulder, not seeing the way the prince bit down on his jaw and glared.

"Birdie is not performing at the dinner," he said.

"Why not?" Darrian asked. "The whole court wants to see her. I paid good money."

Wren grew impatient with the old man. "She stays in my chambers."

"Having a little too much fun in there, are we?" Darrian asked. "Oh come on, Tamzin. Sharing her for one night won't hurt."

"No."

Darrian sipped his wine and shrugged, "Well, it's too late for that now."

"What do you mean?" Wren asked, his eyes narrow.

"I had the guards take her back to her room and asked that fat moor to dress her."

"I told the guards to not let anyone in my chambers."

As Darrian stirred the drink in his hand, all traces of humor began to vanish. He looked at his nephew with an ice cold look, identical to the one Wren threw back at him.

"I'm King, Tamzin," Darrian said. "They will always listen to me over you."

Darrian's words seeped into Wren's skin like poison. His eyes hardened as he tried to step around the man and head towards the servant quarters. But when Darrian's large hand came down on Wren's shoulder, he stilled, biting down on his jaw so hard he was scared he would break a molar.

"I bought her, Tamzin," Darrian reminded his nephew. "Technically, she belongs to me."

Wren turned to argue the man's point when Darrian shook his head. He did not want to hear whatever Wren had to say.

"Don't fight it," Darrian warned. "I let you do your thing and don't stick my nose into it, right?"

Wren did not answer. He stared at his mother across the garden who mingled with the other ladies, not noticing the power struggle. His ragged breaths came out with great difficulty as he stood counting in his mind.

He wasn't going to fly off the handle. His mother had worked too hard to ensure Darrian did not kill Wren after his father died to eliminate the legitimate heir to the throne. If Adania hadn't married Darrian and assured him Wren wasn't interested in the throne, who knows where he would be today.

No, he wasn't going to spoil all of his mother's hard work. Especially not for a girl who would not hesitate to slit his throat in his sleep if given the chance.

Should he risk it all for the girl that won't hesitate to kill him?

This was suppose to be longer, but I can't keep my eyes open. I am so tired from work lol