Princess of Ice
She woke up in the morning, and found that she was naked. There was dim dawn light streaming in through the blinds. She immediately looked down at her shoulder and had a mild attack of panic upon seeing that the wound was so exposed and conspicuous. Then she remembered that her eyesight was far better than his in the dark. She felt around for her nightgown, and quickly slipped it over her head. The movement woke Trevain and he turned to look at her through half-closed eyes.
“Good morning, Princess,” he said lazily. When she only looked at him with surprise, he smiled. “You said it was your nickname, wasn’t it? I can see why. It suits you.”
She could not resist a small laugh at this, and she leaned over to kiss him. “Good morning, Captain,” she teased. When he gave her a funny look, she tousled his hair and said, “It also suits you.”
He pulled her against him, burying his face in her dark hair. She snuggled against him, thinking how this was probably the best morning of her life. She wanted every subsequent morning to just as sublime. Aazuria was sure that her sisters, the twins, and all of Adlivun would understand her engagement. It was her decision to make. She would not allow it to change anything.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Trevain said, turning away from her and reaching over to his night stand. She watched as the muscles in his chest and arm rippled with the stretching motion. She wondered how he could ever call himself old. It was ridiculous—he had the body of a twenty year old combined with the humility of a man on his deathbed. In her eyes he was beyond perfect. He picked up an object and turned back to her. “This is for you, Aazuria.”
She saw that he was holding out a small ring box. She felt a few ounces of anticipation creep into her neck. After giving the orders for all of her precious heirlooms to be sold; hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of irreplaceable jewels, she felt like she deserved a new treasure. As she took the box from his extended hand, she wondered about what his taste in jewelry was like. She inwardly speculated whether it would be something simple or opulent.
“The style is unusual,” he was explaining, “but it was a ring that belonged to my mother. When I visited her in the hospital a few years ago she gave it to me. She told me to give it to the woman I would someday love.”
When Aazuria flipped open the lid of the ring box, she had been expecting anything from the daintiest, most unimpressive ring to a gigantic glitzy rock. She had been expecting anything except what was sitting there in the velvet box. Aazuria nearly dropped it in surprise.
On either side of the diamond was a gold trident. Not just any gold trident, but one that Aazuria recognized intimately. Her first thought was that he must have gotten his hands on one of the rings that Visola pawned.
Her head snapped to look at Trevain, and she saw that he was smiling at her. She felt waves of confusion. He had said that the ring belonged to his mother, and she could see that he was being honest. She looked back to the gold patterns.
“Are you sure that this was the ring that belonged to your mother?” she asked. There had surely been some sort of mix-up in his jewelry box.
“Yes,” he responded. “She wore it for decades—for as long as I knew her. Why do you ask?”
Aazuria stared at him in speechless disbelief. “Ramaris,” she finally managed to whisper. “This is the Ramaris seal.”
“How do you know that name?” he asked her with amazement. “My mother’s maiden name was Ramaris.”
“Oh, sweet Sedna below,” she muttered. She had lifted a hand to press it against her chest. “Truly, Trevain?”
“Yes,” he said curiously. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Aazuria had risen to her knees and was peering keenly into his face. She had seen his eyes before, but she had never recognized them as Ramaris green! She suddenly understood why she had been drawn to him. She reached out to touch his grey hair, looking for a stray strand of color.
“Hey! What are you doing?” he asked with a chuckle. “I don’t have lice.”
“What color was your hair when you were a boy?” she demanded.
He grinned. “You know, it’s too late to back out of this engagement just because you didn’t consider that any potential children of ours might have my glaring old red hair.”
“Red!” she shouted, bouncing up to her knees. “Red!”
“Yep. And not just the pale orangey-ginger type. A really vivid hue that looked…”
“Like fire,” she breathed. She ran her fingers through the locks lovingly. “I can imagine it so clearly. Why didn’t I see it before?”
Trevain squinted, a bit puzzled by her behavior. “What’s wrong, Zuri? Don’t you like the ring?”
“You have no idea,” she said, moving slightly away from him in awe. Pressing her hand against her chest again, she could feel the rapid pounding of her heart. She realized that she was also slightly hyperventilating. “Trevain, it is a magnificent ring. Do you know… do you know what the trident means?” To her, it meant that Trevain must be related to the twins in some way. Whether he was a distant relation or a more direct descendant, Aazuria did not know; but she had a hunch.
“I’m not well-versed on the meaning of symbols in women’s jewelry,” he admitted with a shrug. “I hope it’s something good.”
She smiled at his innocence. And of how very much he was innocent! She retrieved the ring and moved to sit beside him. “This particular style of spear is ancient. It is called the unicorn trident—it appears on the Ramaris family crest and coat of arms, and other various emblems…”
“My family has a coat of arms?” Trevain said with a large smile. “That’s really neat, I didn’t know that.”
“The Ramaris family includes some of the bravest warriors who have ever lived,” she said slowly, with honesty. She wished she could tell him that her dearest friends were descendants of this lineage. But was he ready to know? Keeping this exciting secret inside made her chest feel like it would burst. “This trident is a symbol of great virtue, power, and victory. There is no insignia I could possibly feel more pride in wearing.” As she traced her finger over the intricate tridents—surely the work of Adlivun’s goldsmiths—tears came into her eyes.
“Zuri, hey!” he said, putting his arms around her and kissing her temple. “What’s wrong?”
“Is it possible for us to visit your mother?” she asked softly.
“Yes,” he said with surprise. “I suppose so.”
“Please take me to meet her, Trevain,” Aazuria said, pulling away from him. She got off the bed, standing up abruptly. “Now.” She gazed down at the ring in the velvet box. She had to know who had been its previous owner.
“I am not sure if that is such a good idea,” Trevain said, sitting up in the bed. He was puzzled at the thoughtful, disconcerted look on Aazuria’s face. “I would love to go and see her, but she is very ill.”
Aazuria realized that she should curtail her excitement and refrain from jumping to conclusions. There was no history of mental illness in the Ramaris family, and if his mother was in a psychiatric facility—perhaps she was not a relative. Perhaps she had even stolen the ring, or purchased it herself somewhere. The red hair and green eyes could merely be a coincidence—such traits were common among certain pockets of land-dwellers. She had seen other red-haired and green-eyed individuals in her brief stay on land. But then there was his height—and Callder could breathe underwater! She needed to know.
“Illness or not, she is your mother. You should tell her that you intend to marry me.” Aazuria removed the ring from its box and slipped it onto the appropriate finger. She held out her hand and showed it to him. “She should know about this.”
Trevain shook his head sadly. “I don’t know if she’ll even be cognizant enough to understand that.”
“Can we please try?” she implored. “I would love to meet her.”
He nodded. “I’ll set it up. Visiting hours are Tuesday and Thursday afternoons so we’ll have to wait until after the weekend.” He loved his mother
dearly, but it always upset him to see her depressed and deteriorating in the hospital. For Aazuria, he would try to be strong enough to endure it.
Chapter 30: Visiting Alice Murphy