Chapter 2 – And Stranger

TAWNY

Day two in Cambiador: I find myself waking up in the bright room. My short body - lost in the crisp white sheets of the enormous bed I’m sleeping in. It’s so big and high that when I literally crawl to the edge and sit, my feet dangle off the side and I have to hop down.

Landing on two feet, I stretch and make my way to the overly lavish and gold-accented bathroom. I pause by door number three and open it a crack, just to hear Mason’s deep snores coming from his makeshift bed on one of the couches in there.

I chuckle to myself at the sound. I had met Mason a few times, but never really spent an extended amount of time around him. I liked him though. He was down to earth, quick-witted, and an all-around nice guy. Hopefully, they would sort his room out today. It angered me that they would shove him into something that was no better than a broom closet. Like he was beneath them, less cow shit.

After showering and smelling like I dove head-first into a dumpster full of flowers, I wrap a towel around me and walk back into the bedroom. There was no way in hell I would be wearing anything that was hanging up in the closet (door number two). Everything was fancy and frilly, and though I do wear dresses, mostly for special occasions, – I don’t wear foo-foo fabrics with frills and bows.

Nope, thank you. I will stick to my cargo pants and tanks. Easier to attach my knives and throwing stars.

“Moons and stars Tawny!” Mason hisses.

I turn to look at him. He has his hands over his eyes, his body turned away from me. “What?” I chuckle. Finding his embarrassment adorable.

“You can’t just parade around in nothing but a towel” He exasperates – Hands still covering his eyes.

“Why, have you never seen a woman in a towel? Mason we are shifters, we see people naked all the time.”

“It’s not the same.” He grits.

I laugh again, grabbing my clothes from my suitcase, “It’s exactly the same thing.”

Mason stumbles to the bathroom. Making sure his eyes stay off me. What a sweetie.

While he washes up, I dress in a pair of black cargo pants and a red tank, throwing on my boots. Or shit kickers as Lamia and refer to them, putting on a small amount of makeup. Better known as war paint, a phrase Ria enlightened us to. When we asked why she called it that, she said: If you want to look your best and catch a man then you are going to war with all the other women after said man. Hence war paint.

Mason emerged from the bathroom. Towel slung low around his hips, my trailing the taut muscles that lined his frame. “So, I can’t, but you can?”

“I forgot my clothes” he grumbles heading back through door number three. “Besides,” He shouts, “I’m not a princess or female. Therefore, when you have to share a room with a male – you should be more modest. Otherwise, they might get the wrong idea.”

“Are you getting the wrong idea, Mason?” I shout back, holding in the giggle I want to release. I can just imagine the expression on his face.

There are a few moments of silence before Mason comes out fully dressed, similar to how I am dressed – Black Cargo pants, a grey t-shirt with the MacTire logo on the left-hand side. Standard issue for a warrior of MacTire. “No, not getting the wrong idea. But I don’t want anyone else to get the wrong idea either. This is not a wolf pack, Tawny. Things – laws – people, they are different here.”

I imagined they were. “I guess I will have to find out just how different. Thankfully I have you with me” I give him a genuine smile and pat his shoulder as I walk by him toward the main door of the room. “Hungry? Because I’m starving!”

“Most definitely” Mason chuckles and takes up behind me. Following me out of the room and down the staircase towards the smell of freshly cooked food, a scent that had me drooling.

“Good morning princess!” Gillian bows as Mason and I walk into the gigantic kitchen. It’s big but singular. Unlike the Moon palace’s main kitchen which boasts 3 ovens, five refrigerators, and then some. This kitchen only has one stove a built-in griddle and, what appears to be a walk-in fridge/freezer. The whole kitchen is decked out in white marbling from the floor to the countertops, with flecks of gold patterning the surfaces. 

“Good morning, Gillian.” I acknowledged her. She is sitting on a stool at one of the countertops. A glass of orange juice in her hands and a folded paper next to her. Two women are busy bustling around the kitchen but stop when they hear me.

“If you would like to put your order into our cooks, they can serve it to you at the main dining table.” Her voice is soft and sincere. She’s so timid. Not just the way she talks, but her whole demeanor just screams unconfident. She has an air of shyness and meekness about her. She is definitely submissive – eager to please.  

I give her a pitiful smile, realizing the type of person she is. I remember all too well when I too was the same way. Until I met Lamia. The scared and timed girl I once was, is long gone now.

“Mm, I think we can eat in here,” I give Mason a look and he nods his head in approval. Last night we ate in the formal dining room. The table could seat around twenty-two people and the four of us sitting there eating, made the enormity of the table look unwelcoming and quite uncomfortable. “I would like whatever you are cooking up, please,” I say to the two women who are standing there waiting for orders. “My personal guard will have the same,” I speak for Mason seeing as no one seems to be looking at him or acknowledging him in any way.

Mason takes a seat next to me and Gillian’s eyes almost bulge out. “Something wrong?” I ask her, innocently.

“Oh, um no. It’s just the… help, don’t usually sit with us. I thought last night at the diner table, was just for introduction purposes.”

I shake my head. “The cat kingdom is very different.” I look at Gillian, her blue eyes less wide now. “I’m beginning to think the higher-ranking members don’t value the workers.” She gapes at me, not sure what to say. “I mean, I have been here less than twenty-four hours and already see how my personal guard was treated. I would like to see my accompanying warriors after breakfast. I would be interested to know how they are being accommodated.”

“Of-of course, I can have a lead warrior give you a tour after breakfast. The warriors will have already eaten princess.”

“Tawny.”

“Huh?” She asks.

“Tawny. Not Princess.”

“I am sorry. His highness insisted we call you by your correct title before you even arrived.” She looks down into her juice “I don’t know how other kingdoms function, but I can assure you we treat everyone equally.”

I scoff and point at her “Equally means holding them in the same regard as yourself. Not giving them a separate set of rules and calling it equal.”

There’s a moment of strained silence as I see Gillian’s eyes flicker around the room in thought. Mulling over what I just said to her. Finally, she nods and takes another sip of her juice. My ears catch the sound of heavy feet just as Gillian stiffens along with Mason.

The door to the kitchen swings openly abruptly and my grandfather, King Armand walks in. A grouchy scowl formed on his face. “I have been sitting at that table for well over twenty minutes by myself, Gillian.” He stops when he notices me and Mason. “Oh, good morning, Granddaughter” He greets me.  

“Good morning. Mason and I thought we could sit in here for breakfast. It’s so much more intimate. And cozier.” I tell him.

He claps his hands together, his grouchy frown turning into a gleeful smile, “Well what a great idea. That table is way too big anyway.” He comes around and sits next to me, so I am between him and Mason.

“I was just telling Gillian how I would like a tour today. I would especially like to see where my warriors are being housed and hopefully, Mason’s room will be upgraded today?” My eyes travel from the King’s to Gillian’s.

“Of course, we have maids working on preparing his room already. It was the first thing I ordered them to do this morning. Again, I am so sorry if I offended you.” Gillian looks at me with regret and hope in her eyes, that I will be understanding and forgive their mistake.

“No worries,” I coin Lamia’s overly-used phrase and offer her a weak smile. “I know shit happens. It’s fixable so no harm done.” I don’t know enough about this kingdom, its people, and its inner workings to judge unfairly. But so far first impressions of how they treat none ranked citizens, have not been great.

The two ladies bring over dishes of food and start laying them down on the countertop table. I sigh with relief and reach to load the plate that was set in front of me. Hoping my sigh sounds like I’m just thankful for food and not thankful that I can stop conversing with them.

“I will personally be showing you around, today.” My grandfather speaks while shoveling eggs into his mouth. “This way we can get to know each other better, while I show you your heritage.”

Gillian clears her throat, “Have you heard from Kolby, your highness?” Even when speaking of her fiancé, her voice is soft and uncertain. Her eyes not meeting my grandfather’s from across the table.

“I have. He should be home by the end of the week. It seems this Queen Lamia, has insisted he stay for a few more days.” Gillian looked down in disappointment, I figured she must obviously be missing her mate.

“How long have you and… Kolby, known you were mates?” I ask with interest. I’m a sucker for romance and love to hear about mates meeting. Eventually, I would find my own. One day I hoped. 

“Oh, were not mates.” Gillian shook her head exclaiming. “Well not until our contract is fulfilled and then we can be mated.” She gives a sheepish smile.

“Oh?” I’m surprised. “You are chosen mates then?”

“Well, no, not exactly…”

“Gillian and Kolby were chosen for each other. By me.” My Grandfather fills us in with a proud and cheerful tone.

“So… an arranged mating?” Mason asks with just as much confusion lacing his words as I was feeling. The room is silent and my grandfather stares at Mason with a hint of distaste curling up on his lips.

“Yes. Kolby is a ranked member of the Kingdom. He can’t just marry anyone.” My Grandfather bites out in defense.

I scratch my temple, swallowing my food, “But what about their mates? What if they meet them after they are married and mated? What happens to them?”

The room is silent, thick with tension as my grandfather and Gillian share a look. My eyes flit between the two were-cats waiting for one of them elaborate and answer my question. But they don’t. Instead, Gillian finishes the bite she was chewing and excuses herself from the table.

“Come, Granddaughter. Let me show you around the palace’s compound.” He lays his napkin down on his plate and stands from the table. Holding a hand out to me. I take a quick look at Mason, who is still eating, and groans when he catches my eye. I nod for him to follow and reluctantly stands from the table.

I wish I could mind-link with him because that exchange at the table was even stranger than last night. Who hand-picks their Beta’s mate? And why would they need a contract before they could take each other as chosen mates?

We leave Mason with the warriors, my grandfather insisting we carry on the tour just the two of us. I was quite thankful that the warrior barracks were much better equipped than I had feared. Still room for huge improvements, and nothing like the Moon Palace where most had their own rooms or shared living quarters. Here they all shared a room with one large communal bathroom and a mess hall that was attached to the main building. “Where are the women’s barracks?” I ask as we walk down a gravel path back in the direction of the palace.

King Armand stops and turns to face me, halting my septs as he does. He looks confused at my question and grimaces. “We don’t have women warriors.” He says in all seriousness.

“Why?”

“Women don’t belong in battle. Their place is in the home. Taking care of their men or Clowder.”

My mouth gapes open in utter shock. Not because there are no women warriors but because of his statement. He carries on walking, and I trail behind him still in a stupor. “That’s a really unconventional and outdated way of thinking.” I scowl from behind him.

I couldn’t not say anything. “You realize you sent your second in command to the MacTire Kingdom, which is the most diversified kingdom I know of, yet you speak like we are only in the first cycle of this realm?” Now I’m just riling myself up. “Which by the way is run by a woman! A woman who is tougher than any man I have ever met and so happens to be my best friend? She trained me, without her or her Beta, I wouldn’t be half the person I am now!”

I huff out a breath. Willing myself to shut up before my mouth got out of control. To my surprise, my grandfather laughs. Like, full-out belly laughs.

I’m about to unload my petite ass on him until he finally stops and speaks “And this is one of many reasons I have brought you home, Tawny.” He clasps his hands behind his back as we make our way around the back of the palace into their gardens. “It’s time we talked about why you are here.”

I take in the extravagant and exotic plants. Beautiful flowers of red and gold. Purple hues accent maroon leaves and white petals. Manmade waterfalls spilled into small ponds, all connected by little bridges. The place is so beautiful and full of life it reminds me of the gardens of Bubastis as depicted by our ancestors.

“And why am I here King Armand?”

“To become Queen,” he answered.