Month 1 Week 2

The Matriarchy – The Matriarchal Palace

Dara had turned twenty in captivity without a suitable husband. There had never even been a suitor. She was now not only considered a spinster; she had been banished to the outlands in poverty and shame. She would never be accepted into the government of the Matriarchy, the best a non-inheriting woman could hope for. An outsider she would remain forever, both figuratively and literally.

“It’s not so bad.” Elbows deep in underdresses, Dara’s temporary handmaiden, Alice comforted the tall and large-boned woman as she stumbled while packing her meager possessions through her tears. As a servant, Alice should have included the honorific ‘Mistress’ in her address.

But everyone knew that Dara was little more than a servant among her own family. The Freyan Matriarchy was richer than any other family in their country. Of course, the way they had gotten richer was by having the most beautiful daughters in the land and garnering the largest bride price, then using that money to buy, well…everything. Without a mother on her side of the family to petition for her in family affairs, Dara had no hope of a better lot.

Though exotically handsome, Dara was not the kind of petite and delicately wholesome beauty that every other woman in her family had been. Dara was tall and lithe, sturdy and buxom. She was the kind of young woman that no man managed to notice how attractive she really was until he found himself fantasizing about ripping her clothing off and starting a wild and passionate affair with her.

And now Dara knew why that was. A vital piece of information that the Matriarch had finally revealed just this past week after strenuous, horrifying, and humiliating testing by the Magi. She was a Witch…of a kind, whatever that had meant. Her particular type of witchyness wasn’t from the Priestess Islands…not entirely. Of course, she was a witch “of a kind”. That’s why since she turned eighteen, men she barely knew had been trying to get her to sleep with them, whether they were married or not.

Of course, the Matriarch had refused to tell anyone else that important bit of information that would have changed…. EVERYTHING. Or maybe it would have just led to her being burned as a witch? Oh no. That specific bit of information had to be a secret. No one from the family was going to vouch for her. Well then. Good riddance to the lot of them and may Necromancers suck the life from their bones.

Everyone was expecting her to fail and end up right back here to be condemned if she could not pay back the restitution loan. And Vincent was still calling for her death as she had ‘used magic’ to ‘bewitch him’ and there was no telling ‘what vile deeds she might have planned in the future’. The fact that anyone took that maniac seriously was a wonder of the world.

“I’ll get your things packed. There will be plenty of eligible men in the outlands.” Unspoken was the subtle accusation that Dara had a tendency to seek out those men who were not eligible. Even her own did not believe her. In the short week she had been under the protection of the Matriarch, in supposed seclusion, except for her testing, the husbands of three cousins, men who had scorned her as a wife before her powers had matured, had already propositioned her for a long-term affair. One currently sported her handprint on his face as her answer and a reminder that only one woman had been included in his bride price.

Because Dara had never been proposed to, she didn’t think she was very beautiful. Neither did most of the family believe that Dara was attractive enough to be so propositioned; therefore, the inappropriate party must have been Dara and not the roving hands of other people’s husbands. This was barbaric in her opinion, to say the least.

“I’m not interested in men.” Her bitter words were quiet, but the servant snorted and shrugged them off while trying to maintain her cheery yet disapproving demeanor.

“Then be interested in power, child.” Matriarch’s words resonated throughout the bedchamber as she entered, and the servant squealed while rushing to get out of the way and curtsey at the same time. “You’ve more than enough of it. Maybe if you had been taught to control it, you wouldn’t be in the circumstances you are now.” Dara tried not to sigh as she turned back toward her great-grandmother in the doorway.

“I wasn’t expecting you to come visit.” Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the servant shivering in terror that Dara had not addressed The Matriarch with proper respect.

“I just wanted to remind you to…stay calm. Vincent and his ‘Men’s Liberation Party’ cohorts are everywhere, and you may want to keep your tongue until you are safely to your new home. Attricia and I know that you are not at fault.” Dara’s eyebrows rose into her forehead at this uncharacteristic show of emotion from her great-grandmother.

“Is it wise to say so in front of the…?” With a tilt of her head, Dara indicated the trembling servant.

“The girl is mine. She serves no other. Besides…” The old Matriarch smirked devilishly, “…if she betrays me, I’ll just have you kill her.”

“Great-grandmother!” Dara’s eyes widened in horror. “I could neve…”

“Pshaw! I’ve seen you kill twice this week already when you felt threatened enough.” The Matriarch walked slowly across the room to sit on the edge of Dara’s bed and chortled kindly in her old woman’s voice as she moved Dara’s favorite book out of the way. “Well, don’t tell her that you could never kill her. I was looking forward to all the rumors of my super magical great-granddaughter seducing my enemies or using her magic to kill them. It’s no use if everyone thinks you are just sweet and kind with none of the Freyan viciousness or killer instinct.”

It was the first time that Dara had ever thought of The Matriarch as old. But the woman was. Her once ebony hair had faded with streaks of iron and though her dark eyes were still hard as flint the skin around them had the beginnings of tiny lines. Matriarch might have been a force to be reckoned with, but she was aging and weary.

“You, not just you, all of my descendants, need to be stronger. You need to be the embodiment of what the people of The Matriarchy believe those of the Freyan line to be.” She scooted further onto Dara’s bed and patted the mattress beside her. Dara took a calming breath as she sat beside her elder. “Matriarchs are the law of the land. We are the embodiment of the power of our people. But the people need to see that. Your grandmother, my daughter, has never been strong. Loud? Yes! Petulant? More so. She has never developed her own authority, always relying on her position and name, never on the relationships and deeds that give one real power. You and Attricia have power,” The younger woman snorted at her great-grandmother’s statement.

“Hardly!” Dara muttered, and The Matriarch smiled and tilted her head kindly.

“You two possess different kinds of power, but you are both powerful, nonetheless. She has influence over people with her spirit, earning their loyalty with her actions and words. Both her kindness and her cruelty. You have influence over people, and maybe many more things, with the magic that seethes within your veins. Of all my grand and great-grandchildren, you two are the only ones who embody the attributes which our people associate with the Freyan lineage. You two are the only two who would be capable, currently,” She emphasized the word with her frustration.

“…of succeeding me to my throne. But Attricia has her hands full from marrying that pig trying to soothe those foolish men who think they should be included in the right to succession, the right to be included in politics, and all that…” Her hands waved the nonsense away with a roll of her eyes and a displeased sound in her throat.

“And you, you are not in the line of succession. We thought you were safe from the machinations of Vincent’s lot. They have too much influence with foreign merchants and the dissatisfied members of our own country. This exile is the best we can do for you now without giving one of the other houses the opportunity and excuse to overthrow house Freyan. You need to succeed at the task you have been set; to prove that you are not only not a necromancer or one of the witches of the Priestess Isles, but to learn to control your power…and prove that Attricia was right to spare you. That she is strong enough to lead The Matriarchy unchallenged.”

Inheritance

Parting Words