Page 15 of Daughter of the Drowned Empire
My mouth fell open as Ramia revealed the jewels nestled within the folds of a black velvet cloth. It was the biggest necklace I’d ever seen. It would cover me from collarbone to shoulders, dripping down the tops of my breasts. It was more than a necklace, it was armor. No one would be talking about anything else tonight. The entire piece was composed of golden Valalumirs. In the center of each star was a tiny diamond that glittered and flickered with red flames as the sun shined through the curtains. These weren’t ordinary diamonds. They had been made with starfire.
I gasped as the starfire came to life, and Ramia grinned so wide, I thought her face would snap. It was so intricate and large. I hadn’t even known starfire could be worked into diamonds. We were able to mine the raw material, but we couldn’t forge anything with it. For that, we needed the Afeya, immortals from Lumeria Matavia who’d survived the Drowning. They alone had the skill and knowledge to forge starfire, but, as far as I knew, they could only make it into weapons.
“Ramia, how…how did you make this?”
“I only half-Afeyan,” she said curtly. “I cannot work starfire.”
“But…then how?”
“Simple. I didn’t make your necklace. I find it.”
“No! You….”
Ramia nodded, her eyes twinkling.
Part of Ramia’s job in the library was to clean up and sort artifacts found in the Lumerian Ocean. Ancient items from Lumeria Matavia, the motherland we’d lost a thousand years ago, continued to emerge from fishing expeditions. Some items were useful, restored and distributed through the Empire, like vadati stones and starfire. But many had lost their magic or were broken beyond repair. Those items were placed in the Museion on Scholar’s Harbor for visitors to see and admire. This necklace was meant to be behind glass, not for sale in a street tent.
I should have reported her. But…it was so beautiful, and it seemed like the perfect thing to wear at the Revelation Ceremony. Ramia had called it my necklace, and on some level—though I couldn’t explain it—she was right. This necklace had been forged as a distraction. Forged for me.
Though I could feel it was ancient, it appeared pristine, almost new. She had to have really cleaned it up after it’d sat a thousand years on the bottom of the ocean.
“Have you been to ancient artifacts exhibit recently?” Ramia asked, her voice low. “I know you haven’t. Because if you go—you’d know already we have five pieces just like this on display. What we do with another?”
“Make a profit, clearly,” I said, voice dry.
Her lips curved seductively. “Something like that.”
I shook my head, still uneasy. Ramia swooped behind me, pulling my hair over my shoulder, and fastened the clasp behind my neck.
The metal warmed against my skin as the necklace molded itself around me, fitting perfectly against every curve and angle of my body. It really felt as if it had been made for me, as if it were already mine and had been worn a hundred times.
Ramia shoved a mirror in my hands, and I had to admit, the result was breathtaking. I looked beautiful, stunning, and I felt strong, powerful even. My large features were in perfect proportion, and the shade of gold was just right for my skintone. I was glowing. Right or wrong, I knew there was no way I’d leave without it.
“It fits you perfectly.” Ramia pulled back a flap of the tent, and sunlight burst through the curtains, lighting my hair and the necklace with red flames. We were a perfect match. For a second, I felt dizzy, seeing a vision of a golden beach with waves crashing on the shore and a sun setting into a reddened sky. I held up a hand, my fingers unfamiliar, mine but not mine—they were longer, darker. Ramia closed the curtains, and the vision faded.
“The Valalumirs are in the ancient style—like your tattoo.”
I stared down. She was right. The seven-pointed star had many variations and appearances. I’d chosen the oldest version for my arm—a perfect match to the necklace. Now I had a necklace to match the stars of my tattoo, just as my golden-winged cuff matched the sigil inked inside.
“You look just like Goddess Asherah,” she said. “Fierce and powerful. Mighty soturion.”
I laughed outright at this. “Trust me, I’m no soturion.”
Ramia threw her hands up. “Mage! Soturion! Who care? You look like Goddess.”
She meant it as a compliment. And maybe it still was for the Afeya. But lately the name Asherah had come to mean “whore” in Bamaria. All thanks to the presence of Ka Kormac.
Ramia narrowed her eyes. “Or maybe you look like Heir Apparent?”
“Ramia!”
She laughed. “I know, I know, you the youngest daughter. Rule goes to Lady Meera. But some…some would prefer you.”
I swallowed hard. Was this true? I was too afraid to ask. I wasn’t sure I’d like the answer, whatever it was. Either Bamarians preferred me to Meera because they liked me better or because they suspected something was off about Meera. I couldn’t entertain the thought. I had to get through this night first. And this sale.
Taking a deep breath, I asked, “How much?”
Ramia shook with laughter, her bracelets jingling. “Your grace, even if you combine your purse with Lord Tristan’s inheritance, you never afford this necklace.” Before I could protest, she said, “Priceless artifact from Lumeria Matavia. Forged before Drowning. No one can afford. Besides, selling artifact illegal, and I have no plan to spend the night in Shadow Stronghold.” Ramia shuddered. “So either it go behind glass, sit useless for eternity. Or….” She winked mischievously. “It is worn tonight by beautiful Heir to the Arkasva, High Lord of Bamaria.”
