Tag: writing snippets

Flash Fiction Fridays: Stirring Up Trouble

Ariel Paiement

This week, on Flash Fiction Friday, we get a glimpse at the event that caused Yuldha, from Warrior Queen on a previous Flash Fiction Friday, to have to defend her city from invasion.

~~~

He should have known she wouldn’t agree. How could he be dumb enough to believe she’d say yes when her people had left his kingdom long ago, back when it was better than it was now? Since Elventar had been established by previous citizens of Aleshtain, they’d watched in abject horror as the countries just over the mountains that separated them from the world struggled to fend off the attacks of Aleshtain. The country they’d chosen to break off from so forcefully had become more and more aggressive as it became increasingly depraved.

She regarded King Myranor of Aleshtain with a neutral look. No smile, but also no frown. Let him think of it what he would. Once he’d made the request officially and taken the guessing out of it, she’d formally ensure that he understood exactly what she thought of his proposal.

He opened his puffy lips, a sly glint in his eye. “Lady Yuldha.”

She gritted her teeth, refused to answer such a rude greeting. If he wanted to be that way, two could play. She’d be rude too, as childish as it seemed. But she wasn’t in the mood to humor him in his idiotic games. He could either act as the diplomat he was supposed to be on this envoy, or he could leave her hall before he’d even had a chance to speak.

“My Lady…” Myranor cleared his throat. “I have come to make a proposal that I feel would be beneficial for both of us.”

For him, maybe. Not for her. Being shackled to a man who would never treat her as an equal, much less human, would never do. She wasn’t a woman who insisted upon trying to do all that a man could do or even one who insisted that men let her try. It simply wasn’t sensible to her. She knew her limits, knew there were things she couldn’t do. But she did demand respect and equality. Just because she couldn’t some things did not mean she couldn’t do others men could not. And it certainly didn’t mean she was inferior. “I haven’t got all day, Myranor.”

“Yes, well… I came to ask if you would do me the honor of giving me your hand in marriage.”

“No.”

He blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

Perhaps he was deaf as well as stupid. “No.”

“You do realize that a marriage between us—”

“Would be insufferable? Yes, I do. That’s why it’s a no.” She rose from her throne with a thin smile.

“I think you’re being a bit premature about this. You wouldn’t want to make a hasty decision and land yourself in a war, would you?” Myranor crossed his arms.

“Is that a threat, Sire? Because if it is, I think it is you who ought not to be premature. Do you forget who you are dealing with?” She lifted her chin. “If you have, I can remind you. I believe I was the one who sent your fool of a son packing when he tried to take advantage of one of my Maidens. That’s another count against you too, I’m afraid. Too many wives. And I don’t want to share.”

“Pity.” His upper lip curled, all pretense of being nice gone.

“Not really. I’m just glad if it helps you understand how vastly unsuited we are.”

“Is it your habit to be this undiplomatic with all suitors who visit you, madam?”

She laughed. “Certainly not. I only act this way when I’m disrespected in my own household and then asked to sell myself off like chattel. How would you like me to respond, sir?”

He narrowed his eyes then turned to go. “Mark my words, Yuldha. You will regret this.”

“Maybe. But maybe not. It was lovely seeing you again, Myranor. Don’t let the door hit you in the rump on the way out, would you?” She knew she shouldn’t goad him like this, but some part of her couldn’t help adding, “I wouldn’t want my nicely polished doors soiled. I’m fairly sure the oily stench of scum would never wash out.”

He shot her a nasty glare over his shoulder, his face mottled red, but he let his adviser hustle him out the door. As soon as it slammed shut behind him, she slumped back down in her throne with a sigh. War would definitely follow on the heels of this meeting. Too bad. She hadn’t intended for it to go so badly, had even intended to be somewhat gentle in  her letdown. But Myranor hadn’t allowed for it. So now they were in a quandry. Lovely. Well, she’d just have to find a way to win, she supposed. Knowing Myranor, that could prove to be a challenge.

~~~

That’s it for this week! I hope you all enjoyed. If you have something you’d like to see on Flash Fiction Fridays, feel free to leave the idea in the comments below or send me an email!

Work-In-Progress Wednesdays #17

Ariel Paiement

For this week, I’ve got another section from Trader Prince of Aleshtain to share. In this excerpt, Eras Dhiabhan is struggling to figure out how to deal with the slave he acquired and is finding it more difficult than he anticipated.

~~~

The door flew open, and he lost his balance. Stumbling back, he landed on the floor. With a grimace, he shook off the pain. But he remained sitting on the floor for a minute. Stone floors were such a nuisance when one took a spill. He glanced up at Rhubhian with a sigh. She stared back down at him, her lower lip caught between her teeth. She didn’t seem to know what to do because she just stood there with fear in her eyes and hunched shoulders. He stretched out on the floor with a weary laugh. “Maybe leaning on the door was a bad idea.”

Rhubhian frowned. “You are not…angry?”

Eras pinched the bridge of his nose. “No. Just surprised. You’re finished changing.” He eyed the clothes she was wearing. Still far too revealing. He sat up and pushed himself to his feet. “But you can’t wear that.”

“It is not pleasing?”

It was. And that was the problem. “No. You can wear one of my shirts until I can have the castle seamstress make you new clothes.”

She ducked her head and refused to look at him. Was she embarrassed by her lack of clothing? Hurt that he didn’t like what she had on? Or was something else wrong that he hadn’t even guessed at yet? Women were so confusing. “Is something the matter?”

Rhubhian shook her head, but she still didn’t look at him.

Something was wrong, then. He turned away with a sigh. Women. He just couldn’t understand them. Squaring his shoulders, he stalked to the dresser and pulled out the first shirt he found. It was made from a soft white fabric, and while it might be slightly see-through due to her darker complexion, it should serve its purpose. He turned back to her. “You can have this.”She nodded and took a step forward to take it. He watched her unfold it and run her thumbs over the seams. Was she unhappy with it? Her gaze met his, and her cheeks grew dusky with a blush. “It is too nice for a slave, yes?”

He frowned. “No. It isn’t. If I can wear it, then why shouldn’t you?”“I am not a prince.”

“No, but you are a human being.” He crossed his arms. “I don’t want to hear you degrade yourself in front of me ever again. Just wear the shirt.” Why did she have to be so stubborn? Didn’t she understand that she had value, slave or not? Probably not thanks to the treatment she’d received up to this point. He would lose faith in his own value too if he’d been through what she likely had endured.

She tugged the shirt on over her head. “Thank you.”

“I haven’t really done anything.”

“You have honor. It is…rare?” Her brow creased. “Valuable, I think you say.”

“Yes. I suppose so. But it isn’t around here. Not anymore.”

~~~

That’s all for this week, everyone! Do you have a section of your work-in-progress you want to share? If so, as always, feel free to post it in the comments below! I’d love to see what you’re all up to as well.

Flash Fiction Fridays – Her Greatest Joy

Ariel Paiement

This particular piece is about Leo’s mother Anne. She shows up on and off in Pathway of the Moon and will be mentioned in the following books in the series. Today’s piece is about the first time she ever saw her son.

~~~

Anne pressed her head back against the pillow with a ragged scream. The midwife pressed a cool palm against her hot thigh and told her to push harder. She could tell the baby was almost here, and she wondered, briefly, if it would be a boy or a girl. The midwife here didn’t have the ability to tell like some did. She was only able to tell that the baby was happy and healthy. Many times, Anne had conjectured on the baby’s gender.

If it was a boy, Caladhor would be happy. He’d likely ruin the boy though. Just like every father in this cursed place, he’d warp her son’s view of women and teach him to treat her and the rest of her sex as if they were worthless. That part she hated. But what could she do? Cal had the right to raise any child of theirs how he saw fit. That was the law in this commune, and it wasn’t as if she could take the baby and run. With the woods on every side, she would never make it. Not without help, and no one here would help.

She pushed again with a breathless wail of pain.

If it was a girl, though, she couldn’t be sure how Caladhor would take it. He’d probably knock their daughter around once she was older too. Gods only knew who he’d sell her off to once she was of marriagable age. But he’d promised her that they’d keep her children, whether they were boys or girls. Caladhor kept his promises, though he made very few of them.

There was one last cramping pain that shuddered through her, and then with a final push, she felt the baby leave her body to enter the world for the first time since conception. She lifted her head with a groan. “Is it a girl or a boy, Ardhia?”

“A boy.” Ardhia hurried to a tiny basin of water and began washing the tiny, wrinkled figure off.

The baby let loose a loud scream and began to cry. Anne slumped back against the pillows with a smile. “Well, he sounds healthy, at least.”

“Caladhor will be pleased, I’m sure. Your firstborn, and it was a son. Ishtral certainly smiled on you both.” Ardhia bustled over and placed a swaddled bundle in her arms. “There, see? He’s healthy as can be. Bright red hair just like his mama, too.”

Anne laughed and brushed her fingertips through the baby’s thatch of thin hair. “Maybe he’ll take after me in other ways too.”

“Who knows?” Ardhia winked. “Pray hard enough, and he might. Spoil him a bit when Caladhor isn’t paying attention.  Make sure his father’s rod and harsh voice isn’t all he ever hears. Then maybe there’s hope yet.” The old woman’s tone was light, but her eyes carried a heavy weight.

Anne stared down at the sleepy baby with his bright, blue-green eyes. They reminded her of a tranquil ocean. She smiled at the baby and was rewarded with a coo and a gurgling laugh. Maybe, just maybe, she would be able to change things. Maybe this baby would grow up into a man she could be proud of despite the environment. She pressed a soft kiss to the baby’s wrinkly forehead.

“What’s his name going to be?”

“Leorithdhil.”

“That’s a mouthful. What’s it mean?”

“In my people’s tongue, it means Defiance from the Shadows. I’ll call him Leo for short.” Her tiny smile grew. “Because I hope that’s what he’ll be in this dark place. A bit of defiance from the shadow that covers this commune.”

Ardhia patted her shoulder and began to clean up the birthing room. “Just you keep hoping. One day, maybe, he’ll live up to that name.”

~~~

That’s it for this week, everyone! If you’ve got a suggestion for what you’d like to see in future Flash Fiction Fridays, feel free to drop me a comment here or shoot me an email! I’m always open to suggestions.

Work-In-Progress Wednesdays #16

Ariel Paiement

This week, I have an excerpt from my newest work-in-progress to share. Trader Prince of Aleshtain is the second book in the Legends of Alcardia series. It follows the story of Captain Dhiabhan, who was introduced in Bane of Ashkarith. This is from the opening scene of the book.

~~~

Eras tried not to toy with the hem of his tunic while he waited for the day’s events to begin. Why had he come to court today, again? Right. His father had insisted. He shot his father a hard glare from where he stood behind the throne. Didn’t even have the decency to have a chair, let alone a proper throne, erected for his heir. His scowl deepened, and his gut clenched. Worse still, he was here just so he could watch the slave masters parade their newest wares about for his father.
Anything for Rabhor Thilain.

His stomach flipped. Which unlucky girl would end up in his father’s harem this afternoon? He closed his eyes, swallowing back bile. He just hoped it would be over soon. The five minutes they’d been waiting stretched out until it felt like twenty. How much longer until he could be done with this? Sweat trickled down his back, and he glanced at his father.

The doors finally swung open just as he couldn’t take any more. The page strode in and bowed stiffly. Eras eyed the man’s ballooning pants and striped shoes. The newest fashion in court? Ridiculous as usual.

“My liege, the merchants have brought their wares for your examination.” The page stepped to the side and nodded to the men waiting a few feet down the hall.

They made it sound so benign. As if they weren’t trafficking humans. They used nice, pretty words to hide the ugly, vicious truth. Typical. His attention fixed on the slaves being prodded into the room. He let his gaze wander over the row of women. His eyes snagged on the last woman in line. Two guards flanked her, holding her arms and dragging her in. The others before her had walked in placidly, their heads down and shoulders slumped.

But not this one. Each step, she took was controlled and tightly contained as if she would burst into flight at any moment. She walked between her captors with her head held high, a glower on her pretty features. It was as if she was born a goddess and was disgusted by the banality of the humans beneath her. That made him snicker. Maybe he should take up poetry.

His father glared at him, and he sobered, returning his focus to the line of slaves. He shifted from one foot to the other. Where was she from? Not from any of the mainland kingdoms. Perhaps from one of the colonies Argos had established on the Rithweald? No, not with that complexion. Her blue-black hair reminded him more of the ambassadors from Faelkish. Strange. How had they captured her?

She met his gaze with her smoldering gold eyes. Swallowing, he glanced over at his father. The man’s gaze had also settled on the girl with defiance in her eyes. Rith curse him! He’d ruin the girl. Eras gritted his teeth and clenched his fists at his sides. Yes, his father would destroy her.
But what was he to do about it? Forcing his fists to relax, he stared at the polished wooden doors behind the traders. He couldn’t intervene here.

The slave traders’ ring leader stepped forward, his head still bowed in respect. “Your Eminence, do you see anything you like?”

His father’s gaze raked over the line of slaves. “You brought me a rather dull lot this time.”

Dull? Eras raised a brow. None of them appeared dull to him. Unless, by dull his father meant they had no will. That, at least, was true.

“Surely there is something that can interest you? We have, for instance, this lovely young woman from Brithos. She was taken on a recent raid.” The trader gestured to a green-eyed slip of a girl.

Barely fifteen, Eras guessed.

“Or perhaps you prefer a bit more exotic option.” The slaver turned to the woman who’d been last in line. “We have this one from Faelkish. She’s a bit of a hellion, but I’m sure your Grace could tame her.”

Did he really have to be so smug? Eras clenched his fists at his sides. No one should tame her at all. How dare they speak this way about human beings?

“Let the Crown Prince choose first.” His father waved a hand at him.

He froze. Let him pick? His father knew he wouldn’t take a slave. The defiant girl’s gaze fixed on his again. He swallowed and broke eye contact. Had he imagined the hope in her eyes? “I see nothing of interest.” He peeked at the girl from beneath lowered lashes.

Her shoulders slumped, and her eyes darted to his father.

“Well, I see only one that I like. I’ll take the Faelkish—”

Eras’s heart wrenched, and his chest tightened. He could stop this. He could keep at least one safe from his father. Maybe. He stepped forward, holding up a hand. “Wait!”

His father shifted on his throne and raised a brow with a huff. “What is it?”

“I—” Eras met her now-blank stare. “I’ve changed my mind. Maybe it’s time I took on a slave or two after all.”

“And?” Rabhor drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair.

“I’m heir to the throne…” He stared at the girl. She’d probably hate him for what he was about to say, but it was the only way to save her from Rabhor’s clutches. “It’s about time I built my harem. The future God-king incarnate shouldn’t be without wives and concubines.” He hoped there was a suitable amount of contempt in his voice. Hoped his father would know that even in this, Eras was mocking him.

The answering frown told him the last comment had done its job. He bit his lip and glanced at the girl in green. Her expression went from hopeful to vacant. But a spark of anger still simmered in her empty stare. His gut clenched, and he tried not to think about how she must view him now. A necessary evil.

He offered his father a saccharine smile. “As such, I’d like the Faelkishian girl.”

~~~

That’s it for this week! Do you guys have anything you’re working on? If so, feel free to share in the comments below as always!

Flash Fiction Fridays – Their Firstborn

Ariel Paiement

This week’s flash fiction is about Banach and Rith. Here, we get to see the couple that’s the main focus of Rith’s Disciple (coming out in late 2019/early 2020) as they share the joy of discovering they’re going to be parents.

~~~

Banach pressed a hand to her flat stomach and stared at the midwife. “You’re certain?”

The midwife smiled. “Sweetheart, you missed three monthly courses, and you’re fitter than most. I’m positive.”

She looked down at her bare belly. “Really?”

“I can sense the life, my dear. So, yes, really. Isn’t it good news?”

Of course it was. She’d been hoping for this for so long. But at the same time, it was still a shock. She was going to be a mother. A mother? It just didn’t seem possible. But the midwife had confirmed it. And she knew Ranwen was skilled. She wouldn’t misread her patient’s condition.

“My lady?”

She looked up at Ranwen and blinked. “Sorry. It’s just a shock. But it’s good news. Definitely good news.” A tiny smile lifted the corners of her lips. “How far along is it?”

“He’ll be four months along in two weeks.”

“But I’m barely showing. It just looks like I gained a little extra weight.” How was that even possible? It must be if Ranwen said that was the baby’s age. It certainly explained why she hadn’t noticed until now.

Ranwen smiled and patted her shoulder. “It happens sometimes. Don’t you worry. The baby is perfectly fine. But you need to take it easy. I’ll make you a tincture for the queasiness, but I can’t do much for the fatigue. Tell that husband of yours to make sure you rest.”

Banach slipped off the examiner’s bench with a smile. “He’s been particularly careful with me since I got sick. I’m sure knowing that it’s the baby will be a relief. I swear, the man thought I was dying.”

That earned a laugh from Ranwen. “He’s just overprotective and a little too sweet for his own good.”

She grinned. Her husband was certainly that. Funny how she’d once distrusted him so much. Now she couldn’t even imagine believing he would hurt her. “He definitely is. I’m sure I’ll be bundled in blankets and treated like china once he finds out I’m carrying his baby.” She sighed. “It’ll be bed rest for me, for sure.”

Ranwen snorted. “It most certainly will not. You need fresh air and moderate exercise in addition to plenty of rest and solid nutrition. If he tries that, you come to me, and I’ll straighten him out like I would my own son.”

She would. Ranwen had known Rith since before he became king of Faelkish. She didn’t take any nonsense from anyone, and she wasn’t afraid to give even the king a piece of her mind. Probably because she never did see him as a king as much as she saw him as the young man she had mothered after they’d arrived on Alcardia. “I’ll do that. And I’m going to tell him you told me to tell you if he’s babying me too much.” She grinned. “He might be commanding and regal with everyone else, but I swear he’s like a big baby when it comes to your scoldings.”

Ranwen shrugged. “Eh, the boy knows what’s good for him. Now, go on, or you’ll be late for lunch. You have something to tell him that can’t wait.”

Banach’s grin widened. “Absolutely. I’ll see you around, then?”

“Every two weeks until that baby comes, you hear?”

“Yes, ma’am.” She hurried to the door. “Thanks, Ranwen.”

“Any time. Congratulations.”

She shot Ranwen a smile and then rushed out the door. Her hand drifted back to her belly. They’d been trying for so long, but now they finally had a baby on the way. And a boy too. Her body felt weightless, and she wondered if it were possible to float due to happiness. It certainly felt like that was what she was doing.

Before she knew it, she’d arrived at the small dining room she and Rith used for private meals. The door was already open, and she could see her husband seated at the end of the table while the servants bustled about laying out the meal. She crossed the threshold and went to stand beside Rith.

He smiled at her. “You’re practically bubbling over. What happened? Good news at the appointment?”

She leaned down and pressed her lips to his for a second before sitting down at the spot beside him. “Very.”

“Ranwen knew what was wrong, I take it.” His brow furrowed. “Was she able to solve the problem?”

“Nope.” Banach helped herself to a plate of meat and cheese. For some reason, she’d found this was the one thing she could keep down consistently and always seemed to want. Maybe it had to do with the baby.

“No?” Rith’s frown deepened.

She smiled at him and started on her food.

“I don’t understand. If she can’t solve the problem, then why are you happy?”

“Because we don’t want to be rid of this problem.” She glanced over at him, fought the laughter bubbling up inside of her.

“Don’t need to be—” Rith reached out to press a hand to her forehead. “You don’t have a fever. Bane, what’s going on? You’re not making any sense.”

A laugh did escape her then. “I’m not sick, Rith.” She stood.

He pushed his chair back and turned toward her. “You’ve been queasy and tired all the time. Of course you’re sick.”

She shook her head and went to stand between his legs. “Not sick.” Taking his hand, she pressed it to her abdomen. “Expecting.”

His frown faded, and he stared up at her. For a minute, he didn’t say anything, and she wondered if he was happy. She was sure he was. It was probably just shock. He’d wanted a child for as long as she had. Probably longer since he’d been thinking about marriage and children long before he’d asked her. And he’d done a poor job of disguising his thoughts. Sort of like now. His thoughts slipped past his barriers even as he continued to stare at her without a word. I’m going to be a father?

Banach sat in his lap with a laugh. Yes. We’re going to be parents. I couldn’t believe it at first either.

He stroked her abdomen with a soft laugh. “Did Ranwen know the gender?”

She rested her head against his shoulder. “It’s a boy.”

“Do you think he’ll look like you?”

“I hope not. Do you have any idea how many of the people from your world thought I was a witch?”

“They’re old souls. The people here know better.”

“All the same, I’d prefer he has your hair.”

He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck. “Just as long as he gets your eyes.”

“Why? I like your eyes.”

“Because hazel is more unique.”

She opened her eyes and twisted to face him. “No, it isn’t. Your eyes remind me of the way the shadows dance when you Step.”

“And yours change hue depending on your mood and your outfit.”

She huffed and settled back against him. “Fine. You know what?”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t care what he looks like. He’s our child, so it doesn’t matter. He’ll be beautiful no matter what.”

“True.” He boosted her off his lap and turned her to face him. “You know what else?”

She bit her lip. “No. What?”

“You have once again managed to make me happier than I’ve ever been. Thank you.”

A smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “And you have made me a very happy woman.”

He smirked. “We’ll see if you’re still saying that in a few more months when he’s kicking. If he’s anything like me, it’ll be one bumpy ride. According to my mother, I was the most active of the three of us, and she said I caused her the most pain.”

Banach rolled her eyes. “Thanks for the warning. Let’s hope he’s tamer than you.”

“He’s my son. I should hope he isn’t. He’ll be ruling this kingdom when I’m gone.”

“All the same, I’m still happy. Other women have told me the pain pales in comparison to the feeling of joy that comes when you hold them for the first time.”

“I hope so.” He pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist. “Now that we know what’s going on, you’re not to stress yourself out. I want—”

Banach returned to her seat with a smirk. “You’d better not try to lock me in our room or put me on bed-rest. Ranwen says I’m to engage in moderate exercise and get plenty of fresh air.”

He looked like he wanted to protest. Of course he did. He worried about her too much. But she wasn’t going to do anything to endanger herself or the baby. She’d do what Ranwen told her to, and she’d take care of them both. Rith stared at her with a sigh. “And I suppose that if I don’t cooperate, you’ll sic Ranwen on me?”

“Precisely.” Her smile softened, and she reached out to clasp his hand in hers. “Don’t worry. I’ll rest and take care of myself. And you’ll be around to help when I need you. Even when I don’t, I’m sure.”

He squeezed her hand with a grin. “As always.”

She sighed in mock exasperation. But deep down, she couldn’t be happier. They had a baby on the way, and she had a husband who would make a wonderful father. No matter what happened, she knew she’d be able to rely on him. She might not know anything about mothering, but she knew a lot about what not to do from observation. She’d learn the rest in time. Hopefully the baby would forgive her mistakes when he grew up. She rested her hand on her abdomen and resumed lunch with a smile on her face. Things would work out just as they should.

~~~

And that’s it for this week, everybody! I hope you enjoyed seeing a little more of this particular couple. Even if they are a bit sappy. If you have any feedback on this flash fiction Friday or a suggestion for a future flash-fiction, feel free to leave your responses in the comments below. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can!

Have a great weekend!

Work-In-Progress Wednesdays #15

Ariel Paiement

This week, on Work-In-Progress Wednesdays, I have an excerpt from Pathway of the Moon. In this selection, Leo arrives at the Ishtralian camp with Alrian and Deira in tow, and he’s greeted by his nemesis, Ishtralian leader Kiarhsu Kashal.

~~~

LEO stared at Kiarhsu Kashal for a long moment. How long had it been since he’d last seen the man? Not long enough. Eternity wouldn’t be long enough. His magic snarled inside og him. Reacting to the other man’s presence, no doubt. Even after all this time, it still did that.

“You got my message.” Kiarhsu glanced at Amadeira and Alrian with a snaky smile. “And who are these lovely women? I don’t recall asking you to bring a tribute in return for your pardon and welcome home.”

As if he’d have brought one even if Kiarhsu had demanded it. His hands clenched tighter on the reins. “My ward and my wife. Not a tribute, I’m afraid.”

“I didn’t realize you’d taken a wife. Or a ward.”

“There are many things you don’t know, Kashal.”

“True.” Kiarhsu waved to a boy nearby. “Kestrel will feed and water your mounts. You and I have some catching up to do. Bring your women.”

Alrian made a low noise somewhere between a snarl and a hiss. Leo shot her a warning look. She’d dragged him into this mess. She could play by his rules now so they wouldn’t be executed outright for being spies. She gave him a mulish frown, but she didn’t say anything or act out.

“She objects to being called your woman?”

Leo looked back to Kiarhsu to find him staring at Alrian with a bemused smile. Not good. He’d seen that look before. It just meant Kiarhsu was mulling over the newest bit of information for a way to use it. “My ward isn’t accustomed to our lifestyle. She’s still learning. I had to give her more freedom than I usually would in Kier. You know how the chapter there is.”

Kiarhsu’s upper lip curled. “Yes. Soft.”

“Precisely. I’m sure she’ll fall in line with some time in this place under my strict discipline. A little time on a tight leash will whip her into shape.” His gut twisted even as he said the words. They sounded like something his father would say. He wanted to wash out his mouth, but he knew it wouldn’t wash away the sense that he was dirty.

“I’m sure it will.” Kiarhsu’s sharp gaze landed on him, pierced through him.

Leo dismounted and went to help Amadeira down from her horse. He probably shouldn’t show any public affection toward her, but he couldn’t help it. He needed her near so he could be sure she was safe. He’d hoped she wouldn’t be here at all, but now that she was exposed, the protectiveness welled up so strongly that he had to resist the urge to hide her away behind him until he could lock her in whatever tent they were confined to.

“A little attached, aren’t we? Newly-wed?”

“Yes.”

“No marks?”

“They didn’t end up in an obvious place for us.”

“Ah. Well, marks or no, you know no one will take her without your permission. There’s no need to worry for her safety with the men in camp.”

“I’m well-aware of their respect for the property of others, and that doesn’t worry me.” It did, but he wasn’t about to let Kiarhsu know that. Bad enough that the man knew any of his weaknesses without giving him another.

Kiarhsu smirked. “Then why are you attached at the hip in public like this? Makes you seem weak. No self-respecting Ishtralian man clings to his wife’s skirts.”

Amadeira’s grip on him tightened, and Alrian’s hand went to her hip where her sword had hung. But he had that packed away now. If they were attacked, his powers were the only ones likely to keep them all alive. Kiarhsu noted both movements with a wry smile. “You give your ward weapons, I see. But not your wife. Interesting.”

Leo gritted his teeth. “Can we please go inside? I’d like to sit down and talk in private.”

“I’m sure you would. The trip was tiring, I take it?”

“Very.”

“Well, this way, then.” Kiarhsu gestured for him to go first.

“After you. It’s been a while.”

“Surely not so long that you’ve forgotten the way to your family’s cabin?”

Leo eyed him. He wouldn’t forget the way to that place for as long as he lived. And the glint in Kiarhsu’s eye told him the other man knew it too. He shouldered his pack with a smile. “Of course not. Is that where we’re staying?”

“I thought it would be best if you did. It hasn’t been occupied since you left. A pity your mother couldn’t come too. Is she too frail for commune life?”

“Afraid so.” Leo took Amadeira’s hand in his and tugged her forward. “Well, let’s go then.” Might as well get this over with sooner rather than later.

~~~

That’s it for this week, everyone. Have something you’d like to share? Feel free to leave it in the comments below! I’d love to hear about whatever you’re currently working on too.

Flash Fiction Friday – Equinox Queen

Ariel Paiement

This week, I’ve got a flash fiction post that gives a glimpse into the lives of Leo’s parents before he was born. This takes place just after Leo’s father won Anne in the Equinox Hunt. The piece does contain some mild content that makes it best for those 13 and up. Nothing is shown or described. Just some mentions of violence and assault, but I know some readers may not be comfortable with this.

~~~

Anne ducked her head and watched the festivities go on around her. She’d tried her best not to end up here. But it hadn’t been good enough. She’d still lost, and now she was his. His wife. His trophy. Caladhor’s gaze roved over her, bringing with it reminders of the violence in the forest. Why hadn’t she run harder, faster?

She dropped her attention to her lap, refused to give him the satisfaction of her focus. He’d taken everything from her, just like the slavers had. Oh, he promised her that life would be better now that she was his. But she knew it wouldn’t be.

She knew what really went on behind closed doors. The tent walls were thin in the encampment. And no woman ever stayed completely silent when being forced. Even if she knew no help was coming. Instinct demanded that they at least try.

And she’d tried.

The men streamed up to their table, congratulated Caladhor, and leered at her. She shrank back in her seat. Caladhor didn’t rebuke them for their openly lustful gazes, but he also didn’t encourage it. Would he let them have her if they asked? Other women had suffered that fate after being crowned the Equinox Queen. If her King wasn’t pleased with her, he might loan her out to other men until she learned to please him as demanded. Ann bit her lip. Most women who were placed in that situation didn’t make it.

She stole a glance at Caladhor. He met her darting gaze with a wolfish smile and raised his wine glass to her. She stared down at her hands where they rested in her lap. Her fingers trembled, and her stomach flipped. What would he do to her if she didn’t please him?

“You look miserable.”

Her head snapped up. “W-what?”

“You look miserable.” Caladhor crossed his arms, nodded to a few passerbys who congratulated him. “You’ve been given one of the highest honors a woman of Ishtral can gain, but you look like someone has sentenced you to death.”

She turned her head away and choked back a sob. What did he expect? She had less freedom here than she’d had as a slave before Kiarhsu bought her, forced her to become a part of the Argosian chapter of Ishtral. Things had seemed better until Caladhor and other men started taking interest.

“What’s wrong, then? Not me, certainly.” He snorted. “You’re now the first wife of one of the elite of Ishtral. You’ll never want for anything.”

Except freedom. Affection. Tenderness. Everything that mattered in life. She gritted her teeth, and her fingers curled into fists.

“Answer me.” His voice deepened, threatened violence if she didn’t obey.

Tipping her head up, she turned to look at him. “How could you think this is an honor? I’m more a slave than ever before.”

“Nonsense. You’re going to be given the best the world can offer. I’m a generous man, Anne.”

What was his definition of generous? Certainly not hers.

“You don’t believe me. But I can be. If you’re good, if you do what you’re told, I’ll give you anything you desire. Anything at all. Even if you ask to keep any daughters you bear me. I’ll grant that wish too.”

Generous, for an Ishtralian. Girls were pawns at best and chattel at worst as far as Ishtralians were concerned. She narrowed her eyes. Was he serious? Or was he simply saying it to placate her? “I thought girls were useless burdens.”

“Not in my position. I can afford them, and I can get a high price from whoever wishes to wed our daughters.”

That was it then. She stiffened. It always went back to the money with him. Their daughters might be well-groomed, but they’d still be no better than property. She lowered her head again to head the tears welling up in her eyes. What had she done to anger the gods so greatly? Why would they allow such awful things to happen to her? To the world?

The events of the evening ran through her mind like cold water. She trembled as the festivities continued and more and more couples broke away from the fire to find their beds. Soon, she’d spend her wedding night with Caladhor. If the rough handling in the forest was any indicator, it wouldn’t be a good night.

A tear slipped down her cheek, and she closed her eyes with a deep breath. This was life now. She’d just have to make the best of it and hope for an escape. Maybe if she bore a son for Caladhor, he’d leave her alone. It was a long shot, but it was better than nothing.

She wiped away the tears when Caladhor wasn’t looking and squared her shoulders. There was no other choice. She would endure, and she would fight in the shadows to make sure that her children never became a monster like the one sitting beside her. She would wage war in her own way and pray that it would close in freedom or death.

Because if she couldn’t have her freedom, she would rather not live at all.

~~~

That’s all for this week! If you enjoyed it or would like to comment on it, please leave your feedback in the comments below. Have suggestions or things you’d like to see in future Flash Fiction Fridays? Leave those in the comments too!

Work-In-Progress Wednesdays #14

Ariel Paiement

I’m really excited to announce that On Anarchy’s Wings is officially completed! There’s just another few chapters to post on Wattpad and Inkitt before the second book in The Chronicles of Eclesia trilogy is done. The next one will be started at some point when I’ve finished Pathway of the Moon and Trader Prince of Aleshtain: Book 2 of The Legends of Alcardia series. So, in honor of On Anarchy’s Wings’ completion, today’s work-in-progress Wednesday is an excerpt from the book for the last time!

~~~

LAKESH crawled to his feet and winced at the charred, ripping sensation rippling over his back. Even though he’d seen the blast coming and had portalled away in time to evade most of it, he’d still been burned by the cursed Light. So had his Third. And he had fewer healing capabilities, so Lakesh wasn’t even sure the other would pull through. Hopefully he would. In no way did Lakesh want to be stuck on this blasted planet alone. Misery loved company, and he would stick by that saying religiously. If he were human, he might feel bad about dragging his companion into this. After all, it wasn’t as if the other Korithel had asked to end up in this situation. But Lakesh wasn’t human.

He dragged his Third to his feet and snorted. “You’re a sorry mess.”

Taresh groaned and tried to bat his hands away. “Would you let me go? I swear, you’ll rip all the skin off my shoulders and back if you keep this up. And we’re not likely to get any help healing any time soon.”

“Good point.” He dropped Taresh. “Gods, this light is killing me.”

“Same. We’re going to have to go to the outer edges of the habital zones on this planet to stay alive until Ianabha can send us reinforcements.” Taresh sighed. “I hate this place.”

Lakesh smirked and crossed his arms, ignoring the peeling, tearing that sparked along his back. “Don’t worry. Soon enough, those who did this will pay. His sycophants won’t get away with this.”

“Not if Ianabha has any say.” Taresh began plodding toward the horizon with a stifled hiss. “Going to take her forever to get back to us though. Can you even communicate through the link?”

“Not right now. I tried when I woke up. That deplorable Light has blocked up my communicators, and after the frying my back took, every bit of my energy is going toward healing. It’s easing some though.” He caught up with his friend. “You?”

Taresh shook his head.

“Your healing working okay?”

A grimace this time.

Heat surged in Lakesh’s veins, and bitterness mixed with spice washed over his tongue. He glanced over at his Third. “They will pay, Taresh. Save the anger up for when it’ll actually be useful. Got it?”

Taresh nodded but still didn’t speak. Perhaps it pained him. His breathing didn’t sound quite right. Lakesh stared at the sun where it was dipping below the horizon. At least the night was coming fast. They would travel faster without the light making them sicker than they were. He clenched his fists at his sides. When he got his hands on those who had been His channel, he was going to show them suffering unlike anything they’d ever known. That he swore.

A storm was coming, and they would know the darkness in a way few ever could. If Ianabha didn’t make certain of that, he would. A tight smile stretched on his lips. Not one of those Formosians would survive the tidal wave unleashed. Someday soon, they would reach the end of the line, and he would be there, waiting.

~~~

I can’t tell you guys how ecstatic I am about finally finishing this book. The idea was conceived years ago when I finished the very first draft of On Twilight’s Wings, but I never got around to it. The book itself, once I started, began in the planning stages in March and ended the writing process for the draft this month.

All told, it took me roughly six months to write the whole thing, and it has totaled in at 95,135 words. Just about 5,000 shy of the 100,000 word count I anticipated. So the book’s a pretty decent length despite only having 20 chapters all together.

At any rate, I’m pretty happy to have finished the second book. I loved the story and planning it, as well as writing it. I’m sure the third book will be just as much fun, and it’s definitely going to be the grand finale of all the tension and chaos that has been building since book one. I’ll talk more about the book when I’m actually ready to start posting chapters.

For now, the work-in-progress Wednesdays posts will focus solely on Pathway of the Moon and Trader Prince of Aleshtain from PotM’s companion series. (I’m lazy and don’t feel like typing out the titles fully, so I’m going to abbreviate.) TPoA is the sequel to Bane of Ashkarith in terms of order in which the series has been written, but it is actually prior to the events of BoA in the timeline. PotM comes after both books by several hundred years.

But anyway, that’s all for this week, you all! What have you guys been up to? This week was a bit of a longer post just because I finished up a project. Has anyone else finished anything up? Or maybe are you getting close to finishing?

If not, don’t feel left out! I’ve got current projects going that are nowhere close to done. You’re not alone on that. If that’s you, what have you been working on recently?

Flash Fiction Fridays: Warrior Queen

Ariel Paiement

Hey, everyone! I’m back this week with another Flash Fiction Friday. This week’s flash fiction focuses on Yuldha, the young Queen of Elventar, as she faces the oncoming army from Aleshtain. Determined not to let them take what is hers and her people’s, she stands in defense of their capital city.

~~~

Yuldha leaned over the parapet of the stone wall, squinting at the oncoming hoard. They’d be here in less than ten minutes. She pushed herself away from the edge of the wall and retreated. Close enough for archers to get a lucky shot. Wouldn’t that make King Myranor happy? The lucky archer who got a shot on her would be rewarded handsomely. Assuming Myranor was in a mood to have her dead instead of alive.

She pressed her back against the cool stone of the walkway’s back wall. Who knew what his mood would be? Really, what had the king expected? That she, Queen of a realm who hated his with an eternal passion, would accept his offer? Wed him and hand over the kingdom his ancestors had been trying to fell for centuries? She glared out across the plains. The man was a fool.

“My Lady, please come down from there! The archers are within range, and the men await your orders.”

Yuldha glanced down at the stairs leading into the keep. Her glare faded, and the corners of her mouth twitched up in a smile. “You worry too much, Lord Trydan.”

Trydan grinned. “It’s my job as the Matriarch’s Sword, my Lady.”

She wrinkled her nose. “You shouldn’t call yourself by your official title.”

“Why not?” He raised a brow. “Would you prefer some other title?”

Her heart skipped a beat, and she offered him an indulgent smile. Ever persistent in his advances. She had to admire that. And she wasn’t going to lie. His flirtatious manner warmed her, particularly since she was the only one on the receiving end. She flipped her braid over her shoulder and stalked to the stairs. A Queen still had to keep up pretenses. She couldn’t act the innocent maiden or starry-eyed damsel with anyone. Not in public, at least. “Of course not. It would go to your head, Dhan.”

He laughed and offered her a hand down the last few steps. “I’m sure you’d keep me in my place, Yul.”

She shot him a glare. “You’re not to call me that in public. You know that.”

“Why not?” The playful smirk replaced the warm smile.

She squeezed his hand until he hissed and looked away. “Because I said so. You shouldn’t need me to explain to you how it looks for Elventar’s warrior queen to lower her guard for a mere man.”

He wrinkled his nose. “I’m not just any man, Yul,” he murmured.

“We’re in a war, Trydan.” Heat flooded her, belying the ice she’d imbued in her tone. “I don’t have time to be weak. And after what that Rith-cursed savage pulled, I’m not inclined to consider anyone.”

He squeezed her hand in return, but the pressure was gentle and comforting. “Someday you will be. You’re too strong to let him ruin you for love, my warrior Queen.”

She tugged her hand from his grasp even though she wanted to leave it there, to let him comfort her and tell her everything would be fine. Well, there was time enough for that later. If they survived this battle. She strode ahead, leaving Dhan behind to consider his words and her obvious cold shoulder. If he still chased after her, maybe—and that was a big maybe—she’d consider it. After all, if Elventar survived this siege—and she was determined it would—her line would need to continue somehow. Dhan was a good choice. Her lips curved up in a fierce smile.

Her soldiers snapped to attention as she stalked into the open courtyard. She waited as they saluted and greeted her, hands thumping to their chests over their hearts. In response, she bowed, silently showing her respect for their unspoken vow of protection. Then she straightened and met their gazes. “Men and women of Elventar, today we fight. Let’s show Aleshtain they can’t have our home no matter what they try!”

The men and women roared their approval, slamming the butts of spears to the ground or rattling swords against spears. She smiled, resting a hand on the sword sheathed at her hip. King Myranor was going to rue the day he ever crossed her. He thought he could barge in here and take her and her kingdom by force? Well, she’d show him what happened to those dumb enough to try.

~~~

That’s it for this Friday, folks! I’d love to hear your thoughts. If you enjoyed this week’s flash fiction or have anything you’d like to ask, feel free to drop it in the comments below.

Flash Fiction Fridays: Claiming Rhubhian

Ariel Paiement

In Bane of Ashkarith, readers are introduced to Dhiabhan and Rhubhian, an air captain and a slave from Aleshtain. This short piece shows how Dhiabhan met Rhubhian. Their story will be told in my upcoming novella, Traitor Prince of Aleshtain. So, if you enjoyed these two in Bane of Ashkarith and are hoping for more, keep an eye out for that. For now, I hope you enjoy this Flash Fiction Friday.

~~~

Eras tried not to toy with the hem of his tunic while he waited for the day’s events to begin. Why had he come to court today, again? Right. His father had insisted. He shot his father a hard glare from where he stood behind the throne. Didn’t even have the decency to have a chair, let alone a proper throne, erected for his heir. His scowl deepened, and his gut clenched. Worse still, he was here just so he could watch the slave masters parade their newest wares about for his father. Anything for Rabhor Thilain.

His stomach flipped. Which unlucky girl would end up in his father’s harem this afternoon? He closed his eyes, swallowing back bile. He just hoped it would be over soon. The five minutes they’d been waiting stretched out until it felt like twenty. How much longer until he could be done with this? Sweat trickled down his back, and he glanced at his father.

The doors finally swung open just as he couldn’t take any more. The page strode in and bowed stiffly. Eras eyed the man’s ballooning pants and striped shoes. The newest fashion in court? Ridiculous as usual.

“My liege, the merchants have brought their wares for your examination.” The page stepped to the side and nodded to the men waiting a few feet down the hall.

They made it sound so benign. As if they weren’t trafficking humans. They used nice, pretty words to hide the ugly, vicious truth. Typical. His attention fixed on the slaves being prodded into the room. He let his gaze wander over the row of women. His eyes snagged on the last woman in line. Two guards flanked her, holding her arms and dragging her in. The others before her had walked in placidly, their heads down and shoulders slumped.

But not this one. Each step, she took was controlled and tightly contained as if she would burst into flight at any moment. She walked between her captors with her head held high, a glower on her pretty features. It was as if she was born a goddess and was disgusted by the banality of the humans beneath her. That made him snicker. Maybe he should take up poetry.

His father glared at him, and he sobered, returning his focus to the line of slaves. He shifted from one foot to the other. Where was she from? Not from any of the mainland kingdoms. Perhaps from one of the colonies Argos had established on the Rithweald? No, not with that complexion. Her blue-black hair reminded him more of the ambassadors from Faelkish held. Strange. How had they captured her?

She met his gaze with her smoldering brown eyes. Swallowing, he glanced over at his father. The man’s gaze had also settled on the girl with defiance in her eyes. Rith curse him! He’d ruin the girl. Eras gritted his teeth and clenched his fists at his sides. Yes, his father would destroy her. But what was he to do about it? Forcing his fists to relax, he stared at the polished wooden doors behind the traders. He couldn’t intervene here.

The slave traders’ ring leader stepped forward, his head still bowed in respect. “Your Eminence, do you see anything you like?”

His father’s gaze raked over the line of slaves. “You brought me a rather dull lot this time.”

Dull? Eras raised a brow. None of them appeared dull to him. Unless, by dull his father meant they had no will. That, at least, was true.

“Surely there is something that can interest you? We have, for instance, this lovely young woman from Brithos. She was taken on a recent raid.” The trader gestured to a green-eyed slip of a girl.

Barely fifteen, he guessed.

“Or perhaps you prefer a bit more exotic option.” The slaver turned to the woman who’d been last in line. “We have this one from Faelkish. She’s a bit of a hellion, but I’m sure your Grace could tame her.”

Did he really have to be so smug? Eras clenched his fists at his side. No one should tame her at all. How dare they speak this way about human beings?

“Let the Crown Prince choose first.” His father waved a hand at him.

He froze. Let him pick? His father knew he wouldn’t take a slave. The defiant girl’s gaze fixed on his again. He swallowed and broke eye contact. Had he imagined the hope in her eyes? “I see nothing of interest.” He peeked at the girl from beneath lowered lashes.

Her shoulders slumped, and her eyes darted to his father.

“Well, I see only one that I like. I’ll take the Faelkish—”

Eras’s heart wrenched, and his chest tightened. He could stop this. He could keep at least one safe from his father. Maybe. He stepped forward, holding up a hand. “Wait!”

His father shifted on his throne and raised a brow with a huff. “What is it?”

“I—” Eras met her now-blank stare. “I’ve changed my mind. Maybe it’s time I took on a slave or two after all.”

“And?” Rubhor drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair.

“I’m heir to the throne…” He stared at the girl. She’d probably hate him for what he was about to say, but it was the only way to save her from his Rabhor’s clutches. “It’s about time I built my harem. The future God-king incarnate shouldn’t be without wives and concubines.” He hoped there was a suitable amount of contempt in his voice. Hoped his father would know that even in this, Eras was mocking him.

The answering frown told him that last comment had done its job. He bit his lip and glanced at the girl in green. Her expression went from hopeful to vacant. But a spark of anger still simmered in her empty stare. His gut clenched, and he tried not to think about how she must view him now. A necessary evil.

He offered his father a saccharine smile. “As such, I’d like the Faelkishian girl.”

His father’s frown deepened. “I—”

“You said I could pick.” Eras lowered his voice. “Do you really want to make a scene in front of everyone?”

That gained him a narrow-eyed stare. But his father finally nodded and lifted a hand toward the trader. “It seems my son has chosen.” His lips curved into a sly smirk. “I’m glad to see he isn’t as touched in the head as I thought. He still appreciates a beautiful woman.”

The traders laughed, but the atmosphere felt heavy now. Their attention remained fixed on him and his father like hawks watching prey. Waiting for the showdown to begin, no doubt. Too bad. He wasn’t planning on a fight. Not if his father would give him his way. He’d ignore the insults and jibes about his romantic inclinations if it meant saving her from his father.

“Well, you heard him, Rhubhian.” The head trader glared at the sullen girl. “Go to him.”

She didn’t budge. Instead, she just shot the man a venomous look and planted her feet on the marble floor. Eras raised a brow. Didn’t she know she’d end up getting into trouble behaving that way? He sighed. “Father, perhaps I might be dismissed? I should settle my newly acquired asset somewhere secure.”

His father huffed but nodded. “Go on, then. Take her and get out of my sight.”

Eras shot him a cold glare. Was that really any way to deal with the Crown Prince? For someone who constantly insisted Eras behave befitting his station, the man seemed awfully determined to undermine him. He stalked down the steps of the dais and stopped in front of Rhubhian. Now that he was closer, he could see how tightly the guards were holding her upper arms. They’d leave bruises that way. His jaw clenched. “Release her. Now.”

The guards eyed him, but they did as asked, backing away to leave the two of them standing face-to-face alone. Eras resisted the urge to reach out, to tell her that everything would be alright now. He couldn’t let his father see that this girl mattered at all. He could still lose her if his father changed his mind. Leaning closer, he murmured, “Go along with what I say, and you might avoid a place in my father’s harem.” He grabbed the chain attached to her collar and turned to walk off. “Well, get a move on. I don’t have all day.” He glanced over his shoulder and raised a brow.

She stared back at him with a sneer but did what she was told, falling into step a few feet behind him. He held his head high and thrust his shoulders back, hoping his father wouldn’t see the relief coursing through him. He’d done it. He’d saved her from his father.

There was just one big question hovering in his mind now. What was he to do with a slave?

~~~

That’s all for this Friday! If you enjoyed this, as mentioned before, there will be a novella dedicated to Dhiabhan’s story. I’ll be announcing more about that at a later date and will update everyone on when it starts going up on my writing profiles.

Until next Friday, everyone! Have a great weekend.