Joelle Charbonneau - Dividing Eden

Freedom was a myth.

Caryss brother Andreus didnt think so. He said a person could feel free even when walls surrounded him.

Carys loved her twin, but he was wrong. Freedom was a mirage. It taunted and promised a great deal as it hung just out of reach.

Back when they were young, her brother loved pointing out the women carrying trays of bread through one of the citys squaresor the commoners children chasing each other, laughter echoing through the narrow alleys. They were all surrounded by walls, and yet they were happy. The walls kept them safe. The walls made them feel strong and secure. That, he argued, was freedom.

As they sat on the battlements he would sketch designs for a new windmill while she watched the guards practice, picking up tips on how to help Andreus improve his skill in combat.

Those who lived in the town below the Palace of Winds didnt understand that danger came in many guises. Not only in the form of darkness, or winter, or the Xhelozi that hunted during the cold months. Those were dangers that could be seen. Anticipated. Defeated. The massive gray stones erected at the perimeter of the town kept those dangers at bay. The white stones that bordered the castle grounds high above on the plateau doubly secured the powerful and those under their protection. But the walls were a double-edged sword. Even as they pushed back outside dangers, they kept in the things that made Carys wish for some other kind of life. One that didnt require she hide everything she was.

Carys placed her hand on the trunk of the Tree of Virtues and bowed her head, pretending to ask it for some blessing or other, as girls did when they wanted a husband or a baby or a pretty ribbon for their hair.

Foolish girls. They thought the tree, like the walls, was a sign of safety and blessing. How anything planted in the middle of town to commemorate the slaughter of an entire royal family symbolized anything positive was beyond Carys. Of course, in Eden, it was only Caryss family who need worry about that fate. Perspective was everything.

Duty to simpering femininity done, Carys turned toward the royal guards. Lets go.

She kept her eyes on their backs as she walked, not looking left or right. Not meeting the eyes of those who fell into bows or curtsies as they noticed her.

The streets beneath her feet were soon to be paved white to match the castle walls. It had been her fathers order. He said the white would show the city dwellers were as virtuous as those who lived above. He insisted the work would begin once the war was over. Carys supposed the Council of Elders would figure out how to keep the horses from mucking up the white of those stones. A fitting job for people as virtuous as animal droppings.

She caught sight of her destination and hurried her steps toward the tailors shop on the far western square. Stay outside, she ordered the guards as she walked to the door.

How long will you be, Your Highness? the freckle-faced guard asked.

Carys turned and stared at him for a long moment. She watched as his face turned red, making his freckles almost pop off his skin. Carys had that effect on people. It would amuse her, if their discomfort werent so clear.

When the hand at her guards side began to tremble she answered, I shall be exactly the amount of time I require and not a second longer. And if you question me again, I shall see to it that your commanding officer teaches you the value of holding your tongue.

Of course, Your Highness. The guard swallowed hard and looked down at the ground. I apologize for any offense, Highness.

The apology was a start. If she were her mother, it would also be his end. But she wasnt her mother. She could only hope hed remember this moment. If he learned from embarrassment, he might have a chance to survive behind the white walls. If not, he had only himself to blame.

Gathering her skirts, Carys stepped out of the last rays of sunlight, into the tailors shop, and shut the door. As soon as the latch clicked, Carys heard a familiar voice. Welcome, Princess Carys. Weve been expecting you.

Carys smiled. She felt herself relax in the warmth of the greeting and of the fire crackling in the hearth on the opposite side of the stone room. A large mass of tawny fur was curled into a ball close to the fire. The fur ball opened its eyes, blinked twice, and then went back to sleep. No bows or curtsying from felines. They had no enemies to avenge, power to amass, or familial interests to protect, so they had little need to curry favor. How did cats get so lucky?

She nodded to the reed-thin man, who, straightened to his full height, barely reached the tip of her nose. The lines etched into his face were deeper than they had been the last time she saw him. Life had gotten harder in Garden City with the war. Goodman Marcus, she said with fondness. Thank you for accommodating my request so quickly.

They both turned at the sound of footsteps pounding the stairs. Carys barely had time to brace herself before Larkin threw her arms around her and hugged her tight.

Daughter. Goodman Marcuss voice was sharp. You forget yourself. The two of you are no longer children.

Pity, since we both were so adorable when we were small. Werent we, Your Highness? Larkin stepped back, tossed her mass of long, frizzy dark curls, and laughed the way Carys so often wished she could.

Royalty always strives for dignity, Carys replied with mock sincerity, which means we are far too controlled to ever be called adorable.

Im certain you looked very dignified the day you fell into that pile of horse manure, Your Highness, Larkin said with a deep curtsy.

Carys laughed. How could she not? I wouldnt have fallen if you hadnt pushed me.

I didnt push you, Larkin said. I was giving Prince Andreus a well-deserved shove. You, Princess, simply obstructed my path.

Goodman Marcuss eye twitched at his daughters antics. Carys remembered that look well from the days when he would bring Larkin to the palace to help with the courts dress fittings. She was too enthusiastic and filled with energy to carefully pin hems and display bolts of silk. Typically, Larkin ended up feeling her fathers hand before being put in a corner to wait until his work was complete. A corner was where Andreus found and rescued her.

At first, Carys didnt talk to the sniffling girl with the tear-streaked cheeks. Even at five, Carys had been told time and again that she was to avoid strangers, to protect her brother from anyone who might get close enough to learn what must be hidden. Even then she understood her dutyto quiet the whispers in the Hall of Virtues and stymie those who would do anything to remove her family from power.

But Andreus never paid attention to the rules, and he could never ignore a child in distress. Not now. Not then, either. And he refused to leave the dimpled, dark-haired girl weeping in a crook of the castle. No amount of arguing made Andreus relent in his quest to free Larkin from her punishment. That was the beginning of the friendship. It was the first time Carys trusted anyone besides her twin. It was also the last.

For the next several months, the Queen frowned whenever she spotted Larkin giggling in the castle halls, but their mother never said anything pointed about the dangers of outsiders when Andreus was around. She saved that for the moments she and Carys were alone. She assured Carys that Larkin would be used against them. Maybe even hurt by others who wished to do the King and his family harm. Carys was ordered to let the friendship die. By the time winter came, Andreus had found a new friend to rescue and had forgotten about Larkin. Carys swore to do the same.