Octavia Book 1: The Last Arctorian
Author
Iriond Prime
Reads
231K
Chapters
37
The night of the feast was the first time I saw them. A horde of reptilians marched up the palace steps and burst into our lives with their ferocious, mischievous leader at the forefront. One moment I was hosting high tea with mother, and the next, I was ripped from the only life I’d ever known.
Chapter 1
Her voice was quiet, with a songlike lilt to it. “There will be others here; they have filthy habits and can be quite barbaric,” Mother had warned me.
Yet I hadn’t expected this. Nothing had truly prepared me for this.
Their presence was suffocating as they piled into the entrance, their tall frames diminishing the light cast along the walls.
The reptilian horde was led by a monstrous man. His skin shone like gold as he strode up the flame-lit steps. The white marble beneath his heavy leather boots was a stark contrast. The horde murmured behind him, too quiet to hear.
The leader’s attire was disgraceful, all leathers and braided fabric. His chest and shoulders were free of any clothing. How undignified of him. When my eyes caught multiple bare chests, all covered in intricate marks, I took a step back and covered my blushing face with my hand.
The embarrassment and anger roared inside me. Did these men have no manners, showing themselves to the world like that?
It was not the first time I’d seen a bare chest, and yet it still startled me. All the words my mother, sisters, and tutors shared on the etiquette of society surfaced to the forefront of my mind.
Trying frantically to calm myself, I lowered my hand, hoping my face was not a red mess. I kept my eyes downcast and tried my best to welcome them. I knew nothing of their culture and was at a loss on how to greet them as per their customs. Education on these beings was not permitted, not for me anyway.
Mother never thought of this.
“Good evening,” I began, steadying my voice. It was odd to address guests while looking at their feet and trousers. Mother would most likely be horrified with me. The silence was deafening as they listened. “I am Lady Eighth, Octavia Arctorian. Welcome to Ardalia.”
I held my hand out to the man who seemed to lead the group. Waiting expectantly for him to do as all the other nobles had and kiss the knuckles of my hand.
The silence dragged on, my eyes unable to draw up. That was until a rough, calloused hand took mine, engulfing it in war-torn fingers.
My natural instinct was to pull away, yet his grip tightened as golden eyes pinned me in place. He leaned to kiss my hand. His beard scratched against the delicate skin of my fingers, his lips lingering far too long to be considered innocent.
I struggled to catch my breath, heat radiating from his touch and settling in the pit of my stomach. The reptilian let go of my hand, allowing me to turn sharply and escort them to the hall as quickly as my heart was racing in the tight confines of the dress I wore.
The noise from the great hall filtered through the passage as we neared. The click-clack of my heels was drowned out by the chatter of the guests inside. Father was the first to see us, his face scrunching as if he had the world upon his shoulders. His wrinkled and weathered eyes met mine for a split second before disregarding me entirely.
“Commander Sobek! It’s such an honor to have you join us!” he shouted with his arms thrown open toward the monstrous man who entered behind me. It was clear he had been drinking much more than he probably should have.
My hands folded in on themselves in front of my stiff bodice. My fingers absentmindedly played with the shiny buttons, soothing my nerves as I moved along to find familiar faces.
“Stop that, child.” Mother was quick to chastise me, her hands lowering mine from the buttons on my dress. I was swooped away by her to mingle with the guests. “You did well to greet them. I still do not know why your father was insistent that you greet those vile things.”
I groaned. For a queen, she sure did have some unsavory opinions. She plastered a smile on her face. She had been quite clear during the week of how important it was for tonight to go smoothly with the reptilian horde.
I’d seen the glossy stare in Mother’s eyes more often this week than ever before. In those moments, she was not a queen, she was not a mother, she was simply a scared human.
One who was designed to fear any species besides our own. The fluttering fear on her face was as clear as the evening sky. But when her eyes opened, I saw my mother again, Queen Aenor of Ardalia.
Her features softened, her lips taking their place in a permanently seated smile. What looked to be a soft, warm woman was all just a mask. A mask she glued to her face for our audience tonight. None of them, myself included, knew what lay behind her gentle gaze and delicate touches.
Mother would always be a mystery.
I moved with her through the hall, taking in the sight before me. I’d never seen reptilians before tonight. I’d heard stories of them, mainly from Mother and my brother Magnus, all violent and gruesome. They were a species to be feared, loathed, and detested, I concluded.
And that was clearly seen by the expressions of the nobles. Many shied away from them as they held their crystal glasses to their lips and spoke in hushed whispers of the creatures dining with them.
One reptilian stood with his dirty leather boot upon a bench, a maid quickly moving to wipe away the filth he left behind as he moved. Another openly salivated at the women floating past.
The Southern Kingdom, especially the capital city of Ardalia, was a pristine homage to our ancestors. Our palace was a testament to that. With marbled structures, walkways lined in travertine, glistening silver lanterns on every corner: everything in the kingdom was designed with our ancestors in mind, a respect for our purebred human DNA.
We were not allowed to deface it, and that meant being selective of which hybrids were allowed to enter the Southern Kingdom.
My great-great-grandfather had ruled with an iron fist, banishing all hybrids from the Southern Kingdom that did not conform with our customs and traditions. It was why only a few docile hybrids remained in the South.
It was easy to see the humans who called our kingdom home, all donned in various shades of white garments, skin as pale as the moon, and eyes as milky as the clouds. It made the reptilians stand out even more, like decaying soil in a field of asphodels.
I watched the reptilian horde among the noble people in the hall while their leader, Commander Sobek, spoke with Father. The leader’s hand rested under his chin as he leisurely supported his weight against the table.
He didn’t seem interested in what Father was saying as his eyes lazily roamed back and forth over the room. He looked so out of place among the decadence of the great hall and the lavish upper-class families.
“Do not get any ideas from them. I know how easily swayed you are by the hybrids, Octavia.” Mother brought me out of my thoughts, her words clipped as she greeted a man a few years older than me. She stepped to the side, a warning flashing in her pearly eyes as the man took my hand.
“Lady Eighth, it’s such a pleasure to be in your company once more.” He placed a kiss upon my knuckles. Lord Virnar had been after my hand since I came of age three years ago. I had no interest in him, but the thought of my mother’s reprimands was enough to force my greeting out.
“Lord Virnar, the pleasure is mine,” I replied with a soft smile, my voice barely above a whisper. All ladies of high society were expected to have this whispery voice to them. I hated it.
Lord Virnar began talking about his business, something to do with heading a new market in the capital, thanks to the generosity of the Dels, who ran the agricultural district.
Like a magnet, my eyes were drawn back to the commander. Not expecting him to be staring back at me, I startled, my legs wobbling in my heels. His eyes were focused on me, unwavering and intimidating even from across the hall. The intensity of his gaze had goosebumps trailing up the back of my neck, an unsettling knot forming in my stomach.
If this is the intensity of one stare from across a hall, I can’t even imagine what others have faced on the battlefield.
He was a terrifying man. One that captured the attention of all around him, myself included. Lord Virnar’s conversation was lost to my ears as the commander pushed off the table, his eyes focused as if hunting his prey.
The thud, thud, thud of his boots mimicked my heartbeat as he strode directly toward me, the crowd parting like the Western Sea, his steps sure and full of purpose.
I stood planted in place, my legs shaking as I watched the commander stalk closer. A familiar figure blocked his path. Someone who was confident enough to stop the predator in his steps.
Magnus, my eldest brother, stood tall, his shining white hair fluffed and ruffled as he ran a hand through it and spoke to the commander in a quiet hush. He handed the reptilian a silver glass, a peace offering of sorts.
The commander kept his eyes on me from over Magnus’s head, downing the dark liquid in one gulp and dropping the glass to the floor. The sharp, high-pitched shatter startled a few of the nobles, and Lord Virnar spun around, his constant chatter ceasing.
The nobles held their breath, waiting to flee the scene at a moment’s notice. A chorus of cheers was let out by the reptilians dotted around the room, the murmur in the hall silencing as the nobles looked on warily.
The reptilians followed their leader and smashed their glasses to the floor, the room breaking out in a shiver of fear as tension spiked with their actions.
My eyes trailed the commander’s movements; it was clear he was not happy with whatever Magnus had said to him. His lips twisted in a snarl, and a grumbled growl tumbled from them. The bright glint in his eyes darkened ominously as he rolled his shoulders and turned with my brother toward a set of ashen doors.
A mixture of people followed after Commander Sobek and the future king of Ardalia, all presumably high-ranking officials ready to discuss whatever they had gathered for.
Mother was right; these creatures are well and truly barbaric.
