Well, still continuing to update this for a non-existent audience.
Chapter Nine: Tensions Rising
Clair awoke, stretching her hands above her head and yawned. Today was another new day and it would be no different from the ordinary. Karen had promised to take her down to the slave pits sometime, but she didn't know when. It certainly would not be within the next couple of days as Prince Benga was supposedly arriving soon to take her hand in marriage.
She sat up from her bed made of a heavy wooden frame. She slept on springs made of interlaced ropes, overlaid with a feather mattress, sheets, quilts, fur coverlets, and pillows. It was curtained, with linen hangings that pulled back in the daytime and closed at night for privacy and protection from drafts.
Opposite to her bed were large chests for garments and a stool sitting next to it. A small anteroom adjoined the chamber where the cloth, jewels, spices and plates were stored in other chests. It was also where dressmaking was done. There was no other place in the entire kingdom where she felt more at ease than her own master bedroom. Unfortunately, her freedom would be taken away with marriage and she'd have to share.
There was a knock on the door. "Clair?"
Edward. Her grandfather. Soon the lecture would start. Throwing her legs over the side of the bed, she stood up and walked over to her dressing room and grabbed herself her usual castle attire – a dark blue dress made of silk. Blue was said to be the colour of purity and was the preferred option for the woman. "I'm awake and getting dressed as we speak," she answered, quickly changing out of her night attire into her casual day clothing.
Once she was done, she headed over to the door and opened it. "I am sorry to disturb you so early in the day, but we must talk about the future. Prince Benga is due to arrive tomorrow and this will allow you a chance to feel comfortable around him before the wedding the following day. He will stay here in the kingdom for a few days for rest before returning home to Unova with you as his bride."
She folded her arms. Unova was miles away and across the ocean. She'd have to board a ship and she'd have nowhere to go. It would take at least two weeks to reach Unova's shores and that would mean two weeks being stuck with Prince Benga and his crew. She'd rather become a commoner than endure that living hell. "Is there anything else you want to tell me?"
"You will be given a personal maid."
"I already have maids."
"This one is special, Chuck says. This girl came from a village."
Clair rolled her eyes. "Oh, and that makes it better? You know what they say about village people. They're less educated than the peasants within our kingdom. I don't want a stupid slave." Or did her grandfather think she was so useless she couldn't look after herself?
"This girl was found with her mother in a place called New Bark Town. The boy Ethan – he's from the same village and he has yet to disappoint. Joey has also come from the same village and he carries out his tasks well. You know what they all have in common?" He paused then continued. "They're all educated. They can read. They can write. They're far better skilled than most servants. I think she'll be of great use to you, Clair."
Clair could see she wasn't going to win this debate either. First it was an arranged marriage and now she was being forced to have some servant following her around everywhere. "Fine. I'll take the slave. It's not like you're giving me much of a choice." Her grandfather was probably going to plan the entire wedding ceremony too. Maybe if she complained to Lance, he could convince grandfather to change his mind. The man seemed more likely to listen to Lance's suggestions even if they were the same as Clair's own.
He placed his hands on Clair's shoulders and looked into her eyes. "I know you're not happy with the decision, but it is for the best of our family, Clair. Unova is a strong kingdom with many reputable people. This marriage will strengthen our alliance."
"So, you're using me for political purposes? What? You think we're going to get attacked?" That would make sense. Unova had a larger population than Johto-Kanto combined. It was no secret that many people tried to marry into powerful families for their own protection. Agatha's words came back to her. Don't trust your family. What did the woman know and how exactly did she know anyway? Had the old lady been trying to warn her? Maybe that's why her grandfather was so intent on her marrying into another powerful family.
He removed his hands. "We are in no danger."
"So why marry me off then? Why now? What's changed?" she demanded.
He looked away towards the window avoiding meeting her gaze. "Nothing has."
She scoffed. "You're lying. Why not marry Lance off instead? You know the family name is carried through the male. It always has been. Why change that now?" She wanted to bring up what Agatha had said, but that would only make him tighten his grip on her freedom and that was already limited.
"Because he's a knight and sworn to serve."
"But he can't be a knight forever. You know that."
He looked at her again. "He swore an oath."
"That oath only applies if he remains a knight. If he left the service, he'd be free to as pleased. It's not like there's a lack of suitable candidates for him. I'm sure there are plenty of royal princesses from other regions who would marry Lance and you know it." She never failed to notice the looks the local women were giving her cousin. The same looks men gave her. It made her proud. "You're trying to control our lives."
"You know that he can't," Edward replied, his voice low.
"He's the only one you fully trust to lead our army, is that it?"
He brought a hand to his forehead and sighed. "It's more complex than that."
"What? Because of his condition? I thought that was being managed by Samuel. Isn't that why you kept the man around? Because he's helping Lance deal with whatever ailment he has?" She frowned. She didn't understand what the big problem was. It was almost as if Edward didn't want Lance having children for whatever reason.
After a long pause, Edward said, "Yes. That is the reason. It's too much of a risk."
She studied his face. The man did not want to meet her eyes. "You're afraid of what will happen. Why? Because you think he'll pass this condition on?" She didn't understand. Lance was managing his ailment. Most people didn't even know he was sick.
"I would prefer our family name not to be tainted by illness. A weak king does not hold onto power for long," Edward explained.
"And because of Lance you are sending me to Unova." Typical. Lance could stay behind in the kingdom, and she had to be sent off all because women didn't get a choice. Their fathers of grandfathers could do as they pleased. "I don't want to go to Unova."
"You'll be allowed to return home to visit."
"I've never been to Unova before, but I've heard the stories." Stories Karen had shared. The woman seemed to know a lot about the world despite having never stepped outside Blackthorn. "It's a bland dark city and everyone is so serious all the time…. And magic isn't outlawed there. What if I become a target? Other kingdoms know our stance against magic. Assassins might try to kill me out of spite." The stories said the Unova region was home to many thieves who made their homes in the shadows. "You know we have many enemies, grandfather."
"And if they dare show their faces, we will strike them down," he retorted, making a fist with his right hand. "We fought off the mages once before and we will do so again should they strike."
Clair found it hard to argue with that, deciding to change the topic. "Very well. So, let me see this slave."
"Come downstairs when you're finished here. Lance will be present too."
Right. Lance had been absent for the past few days. He was probably on some errand for their grandfather again. She missed him. He might have a dull personality, but he listened to her and understood her concerns over the forthcoming marriage. He was the only who listened. Despite living under the same roof, she didn't see him often as he was always busy with duty. It would be so good to see him again.
Her grandfather exited the room. Clair watched him leave then sighed. She was in the final few days of her freedom. Karen had mentioned visiting the slave pits. She figured she'd accept the offer as she knew she wouldn't have a chance again. But first, she had to meet this personal maid of hers.
.
"Well, here we are in Goldenrod City," Eusine murmured, stopping before the golden archways and admiring the craft. Well-trimmed hedges surrounded the city and the only entrances were through a pair of archways. Several outposts overlooked the city occupied by two archers each. Small groups of five soldiers patrolled the busy muddy streets. They were easily identified by their red cloaks and horned helms.
Will turned his head around. "Busy as always. Can't say I've really missed this place much. But there's never a dull moment here, and I'll be kept busy for quite a few months at the most."
"Where's Janine?"
"She'll be in a golden temple. It's the only one in the city so you certainly won't have any trouble trying to find this place," Will remarked, turning his gaze to the right. "I'll be in the tavern as per usual. Perhaps I'll learn of something useful that can help us in the future." He flexed his arms then stifled a yawn.
"You're not going to come?"
Will shook his head. "This isn't my issue. I'll be seeing you." He took his leave before Eusine could protest.
Now the man was alone in a city he wasn't familiar with. Ecruteak was a small city and quiet too. Goldenrod was busy and lively. He imagined this is what Blackthorn would look like only with a castle and a much larger number of soldiers. Ignoring the group of soldiers passing by, Eusine walked down the central path, keeping his eyes peeled for a golden temple.
He walked down a wide street, bypassing a group of children playing in the mud with sticks and stones. Their clothes were ragged and torn. Probably slaves enjoying a temporary break from work. He continued his journey, navigating his way through twisting turns, crossing paths with another group of soldiers.
"…Did you hear? Prince Benga is supposed to be arriving in Blackthorn."
"…A Unovan noble? To marry the princess? He'll be dead within a week."
"…What do you mean?"
"…Don't you feel it in the air? Something bad is going to happen?"
Laughter greeted his words. "You've been listening to those tales again, Pete."
A cold breeze swept through the city. Eusine flinched. It was as if the wind itself was biting into his skin, and he scolded himself for not wearing something warmer. The farther north you went, the cooler it became because of the mountain range that stretched right across the northern half of the region.
Eusine waited for the men to pass by before continuing. He didn't have a clue where he was going, but it wasn't long before he spotted the unmissable golden temple. It towered over the buildings, seeming like the golden sun itself. Oddly, the place was not guarded. That made him cautious. What if it was a trap?
"Don't be a coward," Eusine murmured, approaching the door. Still no one. Not even the local soldiers seemed to care there was an assassin's guild here in the middle of the city. Drawing in a deep breath, he pushed open the door and entered the temple. There was a woman kneeling before a painting of a red ant-like creature. Ariados. It was said a single bite from these tiny insects could leave a grown man in agony for days.
There was a purple scarf wrapped around the woman's neck, and her light-purple hair was tied up in a bun. She lowered her face to the ground, her palms pressed together as if in silent prayer. "…State your name," she said.
"Eusine. I hail from Ecruteak City."
She climbed to her feet then turned around. Although she was a foot shorter than he was, the woman exuded power. She approached him now, a hardened glint in her eyes. "The Burned City. And what a man like you want from me?"
"I require your services."
"You want someone killed, is that it?" She folded her arms.
He drew in a deep breath, steadying his nerves. "A mage."
She raised a brow. "A mage? I haven't had my men deal with one in several years. Why should I help you? Many people enter this temple asking for my services. What makes you any different from the other men? What can you offer me?"
'This ring made by Suicine himself," Eusine said, removing the ring from his finger. He held it out to her. "Said to have been made during the war between the gods themselves many centuries ago."
She took it from him and examined the ring up close. "Looks old. Never seen anything like it before. Odd ring to have in possession especially from a man who doesn't look like a fighter." She looked him up and down. "How does a ring like this find itself in your family?"
"It was a gift to my mother from my father years ago. I don't know the full story, but I do know that it is old and there's nothing quite like it. I'm willing to part with it in exchange for your help." If only he was stronger then he could fight Morty on his own.
She slipped the ring on her index finger on her right hand. "It's certainly beautiful. Who did you want killed?"
"Blond male. A little taller than me. He's in Blackthorn city serving as a member of the military." He tried to think of distinguishing features that would better describe Morty, but the man didn't have any unique markings. "His name is Morty."
"That isn't much to work with," Janine said.
"His hair falls just short of his shoulders too. That should help you identify him better," Eusine explained.
"Still not helpful. A lot of men fit that description."
"He won't ever wear a helm. Doesn't see the need for it." That was it. Morty never tried to make himself look different from the others to better conceal his identity. He needed to blend in with the people of Blackthorn. But he disliked helms. He often complained helms made it harder to hear and see properly, and a mage needed all their senses to defend themselves.
"Leaves him quite vulnerable then," Janine said with a frown.
"Mages can protect their heads without the need for a helm," Eusine pointed out.
She didn't ask him to explain how he knew that. "Very well. I'll send my specialist mage dealers then. You will entertain me until their arrival. I trust you have nowhere else to be?"
He shook his head. "No."
She smiled. "Excellent."
.
Progress was slow. Much slower than she would've liked, but she had her orders. Although Naoko and her sisters ruled over the Ecutreak Brotherhood, they had to answer to someone higher up in the chain of command. N, the head necromancer of the inner circle.
The man lived at the base of the Burned Tower where the body of the high priest Ghetsis slept. No one else could enter the building without permission – only Naoko and her sisters were given such a privilege. Even so, Naoko did not like to enter the tower. There was something about the dark that she found unsettling. Zubats hung down from the ceiling railings and spinarak made themselves at home on the cobwebs in the corners. Rattata scurried along the floor, looking for scraps.
"I hear you've received a summoning," Zuki said.
Naoko turned to face her sister. There were five in total including herself, and each sister held an important role within the inner circle. Naoko was the eldest of the five and therefore had leadership over the Brotherhood. Their exact duties were not known to her – the sisters did not talk about their responsibilities given to them from N. All they knew was they had to find the three holy relics.
Naoko turned to face the woman. "Yes, you heard correctly."
"I don't know why Ho-Oh chooses you over us… We've all played our role."
She shrugged. "Perhaps I've just been doing a better job of it."
Zuki folded her arms across her chest. "Your results are no different to ours. We might be sisters, but we can't see why you are better than us." She narrowed her eyes and added, "I guess we'll soon see if we are wrong to doubt in you. Your pet. Morty. Do you trust him to find out what we need?"
"Morty has been a loyal soldier for as long as I've served… If you need a reminder of how long, I have served that's fifteen years and he's never let me down."
"But yet you have not promoted him to a higher rank."
Naoko shook her head. "No. He excels at what he does. Why should I replace him when he's the best?" Zuki was probably jealous that she wasn't the favoured one, and she was trying to instill doubt in his mind about Morty's intentions. Morty wouldn't betray him. The man was looked after well and given a lot of freedom. "Perhaps you would be favoured if you did not choose to interfere in our plans. Sending that assassin to attack the king - is that what N has asked of you?"
The woman frowned. "Assassinate the king? He is the root of all our problems. We eliminate the king, and the city of Blackthorn is ours for the taking. But of course, you would prefer to take your precious time."
Naoko narrowed her eyes. "And you are interfering with our plans. I was asked to assign Morty in Blackthorn to find the three holy relics. Assassinating the king would've made that much more difficult. I know you are smarter than this, sister. I don't know what your ulterior motive is, but I can't spend time discussing trivial matters with you. N has asked for my assistance.
She didn't wait around any longer than necessary. Although they were sisters, Zuki wasn't worth her time. She moved past her and to the ladder that led to the lowermost floor. There was a cave below and a coffin that N guarded. He was there now kneeling before it. The scent of decay filled the room. Naoko noticed a circle of various animal heads surrounding the coffin.
"Ah, good. You received my message."
N didn't speak much. He only spoke when there was a reason to. The boy was devoted to praying before the coffin listening to the words of Ghetsis. He insisted he needed complete silence to communicate with the dead hence why he kept his distance from the rest of the cult. The need for animal heads was something Naoko didn't understand, but she supposed it strengthened his magic.
Climbing to his feet, N turned around his long aqua hair just short of reaching the ground. He wore the traditional white robes of the old priesthood with a golden sash around his waist. Piercing cold blue eyes looked back at her.
Naoko bowed his head. "My liege, how may I serve?" Although the man wore no crown atop his head, his loyal subjects referred to him as if he was one.
"I have a favour to ask of you."
"Anything."
N glanced over his shoulder at the coffin then turned back to Naoko. "Ghetsis is regaining strength and it won't be much longer until he awakens from his slumber. But the coffin is sealed with powerful magic that even I can't break. This coffin was created with magic of the old priests… and only a tool of the ancient days can break it."
Naoko frowned, looking thoughtful. "You need the three holy relics."
"Indeed."
"I have already sent my finest cleric to retrieve them."
N smiled. A rare emotion. "Excellent. A sceptre, an amulet and a ring. Together, they will resurrect my father, and we shall then have an army of our own to reclaim what has been lost to the non-believers." He placed both hands on Naoko's shoulders. "I trust your cleric will find them."
Ah, blood magic, Naoko thought. The origins of necromancy originally explored in Unova but practiced for healing. Ghetsis had found another way to manipulate blood to cause both harm and heal. But finding the relics would be no easy task. That's where Morty came in. If anyone could find them, it was him.
"I'll ask Morty to keep an eye on things. He's in Blackthorn as you suggested."
N nodded. "Good. When you meet with him again, ask him to look for weak points in the city. I'd prefer not to use all our energy on taking down the toughest walls when there is an easier way."
"Very well then. I will meet with Morty as soon as possible." Morty would likely be assigned to scout the Old Ruins of Blackthorn to investigate the recent deaths. She would cross paths with him there and give the man the blade.
"Travel well, Naoko. Keep a low profile. We can't afford to draw attention just yet." N dropped to his knees again before the coffin. All information had been exchanged. N had no need to speaker further.
Knowing the conversation was over Naoko turned his back and exited the cave.
.
Lyra could understand why people loved the royal family so much. They were the ideal representation of mankind. Clair was a tall and beautiful woman with fair skin and a voluptuous frame. Her eyes were a brilliant bright shade of sapphire and her hair a deep shade of royal blue much like the dress she was wearing. Lance was the ideal fantasy male many women dreamed of one day marrying. Like Clair, he was also tall and fair-skinned, but his eyes were dark, and his hair a shade of crimson. He was wearing golden armour with a golden cape which had a dragon's head stitched onto the back. Her stomach muscles tightened. She couldn't even meet their gaze.
Edward stood between his two grandchildren. He wore a golden crown upon his hair, and like Lance, he wore golden chainmail. "Clair, this is Lyra. She will be your personal maid."
"My personal maid? I already have maids," Clair replied vehemently. "She's ugly and thin. I don't want an ugly maid! Why can't I ever choose my own servants?"
Lance frowned. "She might be plain, Clair, but that won't affect her ability to serve."
Lyra kept her eyes on the floor. Clair thought she was ugly. Lance thought she was plain. This wasn't the introduction she had been hoping to have. "What is she going to do for me that I can't already do myself?"
"When you marry Benga, you'll need someone who can help you. You'll be living in a different city," Edward explained. "She was found in a village to the far south from here and you and I both know village folk are trained in domestic duties. She will be your personal maid and I expect you to treat her fairly."
Lyra wasn't sure what she had done to offend Clair so significantly, but she had a feeling life with Clair was not going to be a pleasant one despite the benefits Ethan explained. Lance seemed more reasonable – at least he wasn't complaining – but then again, she wasn't his maid. Clair pouted, folding her arms across her chest. She looked Lyra up and down, her nose turned up in disgust.
"Fine. But she's going to get a makeover. She won't be wearing her hair up. And her cheeks need some colour. Better clothing too. She won't ever look as good as me, but I'll make sure people won't make fun of me when she comes along. Lance. Take her to the bathhouse."
Lance raised an eyebrow. "Should you not bring her there yourself?"
"Um, public bathhouse Lance. I'm not like you. I don't lower myself to the level of the common peasants. Please. Get her out of my sight. I don't want her back until she looks somewhat decent." Clair shooed him off and turned to face her grandfather. "I'm going to be my room and I'm not coming out until she's ready." She stormed off before another word could be said.
Edward looked at Lance. "Prince Benga is due to arrive tomorrow."
"Ah, right. I take it Clair did not take that news so fondly."
The elderly man shook his head. "No, she did not."
Lance glanced at Lyra. She looked down at her feet. Not even a week had passed since she was sold into slavery and already, she was involved in something huge. A wedding! She didn't know anything about weddings. She hadn't even ever been to one before. Weddings in her village were simple and short. Just an exchange of words and the man would give his wife a necklace made of local flowers a gift.
"She listens to you, Lance."
As if Lyra was invisible, Lance and Edward continued to debate.
"And what do you want me to do? Convince her that marriage life will be fantastic? Why would she believe me? I don't have any experience to draw upon so I can't tell her something I have no knowledge of, grandfather."
The man sighed. "Lance, you know this is the right path to take – the only path to take. The future of our family rests upon this marriage and I won't have it fail."
Still, Lyra kept her gaze on the ground. It wasn't as if anyone was expecting her to say anything; her job was simply to follow orders and carry them out to the best of her ability. Ethan had said Clair would be difficult. Knowing she was against this marriage would only make her more prone to moments of rage.
"Because you don't want that life for me."
This was news to Lyra. She looked up.
The king shook his head. "Because it's not the right one for you. We've discussed this before, Lance. I only do what is best for you and Clair. Now please. Do as Clair asked and take Lyra away. She must be set apart from the other servants."
Lance nodded and took his leave, gesturing for Lyra to follow as the king retreated. Once they were out of hearing range of the king, Lance spoke. "You can speak when you feel it is necessary. Do not think you are to remain silence. Servants are treated in the castle differently – grandfather believes servants ought to be treated with respect and so do I. My cousin may think otherwise, but she won't mistreat you. Come. I'll take you to the bathhouse."
"The bathhouse?" Lyra repeated.
He nodded. "Yes. Most people can't afford to have private baths in their own homes, so they come to the public bathhouse to bathe themselves or wash clothing. There are private rooms, but they do come at a price. Fortunately, you belong to my cousin now which means you are entitled to your own room." He dug a hand into a pocket and pulled out a small dragon tooth-shaped brooch, then held it out for her to take. "This is the royal seal. Show this to the guards and they will allow you entrance."
She took it off him and attached the brooch to her shirt. "…Men and women bathe together?" she said slowly, wrapping her head around the idea of sharing a bath with someone of the opposite sex. Even sharing a bath with someone of the same gender was awkward enough.
Lance nodded. "Indeed. I suppose it's different for you having come from a small village, but folk here are quite open by their sexuality. Grandfather does not approve of course, but we can't control human needs and wants. You can pay to have someone bathe you or you can do it yourself. Most people prefer another helper to soothe their muscles and reach places that can be hard to reach on your own. That's why people have servants."
Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She didn't expect Clair to ask for help when it came to bathing, but what if she did? Or worse, what if Lance asked for her services? It wasn't as if she could refuse him. Lance was even looking at her with an amused look. Her cheeks burned hot. Why did she have to start blushing now? Now she was just going to come across as an innocent village girl with little experience in anything. She kept her mouth shut earning a light-hearted chuckle from Lance who seemed to find her embarrassment entertaining. She followed him along a cobblestone path towards a large wooden building.
Crowds of people were entering and exiting the bathhouse. Clearly and understandably so, it was a popular place being almost as popular as the tavern. Lance walked up to the main entrance blocked by two soldiers. All he had to do was look at them and the guards stepped aside.
Lyra remained close to Lance as they entered the building. The bathhouse wasn't what she had imagined. She had expected to see small tubs of water lined up in a row. Instead, she saw a giant pool of water filled with many people and hardly anyone seemed to care they were exposed. There were naked women sitting on the sides of the pool giving each other back rubs and naked men on the opposite side fully exposed. Some people had cloths wrapped around their waistlines, but for most part, every part was visible. Her cheeks reddened, and she kept her eyes on the ground.
Lance led her to the opposite side of the pool. A few people called Lance's name and he responded in kind. Eventually, they came to a stop and it was then Lyra looked up once more and found they were looking at a door.
A woman in a simple white dress exited the room. She smiled at them both. "I've cleaned the bathtub. Enjoy yourself and it's free of charge for you, Lance. If you need any assistance, don't hesitate to ask."
Lance shook his head. "Thanks for the offer, but I have Lyra to assist."
The woman looked disappointed but managed another smile. "Good day to you then." She walked away.
"I thought I was supposed to be getting a makeover?" Lyra said, turning to face Lance.
"All you need is a quiet bath and the serving girls at the castle can help you with your hair. My cousin tends to be a little overly dramatic about many things. She has a temper and she can be very demanding, but don't take her words to heart. If she ever gives you too much trouble, you can always come to me."
Frowning, Lyra said, "But I'm her maid."
"And you are still a person entitled to basic rights. Other people think of slaves as lesser beings, but I choose not to. You're still people and you have a right for proper treatment." The bath was no different to the one open to the public in terms of design; it only differed in size being fit for no more than two people. The tub back in her village was made from wood and lined with a linen cloth to protect the bather from splinters. Servants were required to fill the tubs with buckets of water, and they were to empty the tubs afterwards. The same procedure applied to the bathhouses and water was only changed every couple of weeks. "Please. Feel free to bathe."
Her ears reddened. "Um… Right here?"
"Do you want to bathe with the other people in dirty water?"
She studied his expression. He couldn't be serious, could he? Was he suggesting that she undress before him? Wasn't this supposed to be a private bathroom? "I just… I thought... Isn't this private?" Her face was burning hot now. She was probably so red someone else would mistake her for being sunburnt.
"It is more convenient if we use the same tub as it less work for the serving girls here. Carrying buckets back and forth all day long is quite damaging to the body and the mid. I will turn away and look elsewhere whilst you undress."
How blunt, she thought. Could she trust him to keep his gaze elsewhere? Couldn't he just wait outside? She knew that most men wouldn't turn away if a naked woman was within range, but he was supposedly the noble respectable one. He turned his back and looked down at the floor. She waited for a few moments to pass before deciding to take the chance. Having a bath would certainly feel nice. She kept her eyes trained on his back, making sure he didn't turn around, as she removed her clothing, placing it neatly on a heap nearby.
She quickly climbed into the bathtub and sunk low enough to cover her entire body below her chin. Still, she felt vulnerable. Bringing her knees to her chest, she wrapped her arms around her legs, keeping her gaze averted. She heard him undress and didn't look in his direction until she heard him enter the bath. How did people become so comfortable with being fully undressed in front of others?
Lance reached an arm over the right side of the bath and picked up a soft soap bar. It was made of mutton fat, potash and natural soda. The rich people used olive oil in their soaps to give the soap a pleasant scent, but Lance didn't seem to care. "I trust you didn't have baths in your village?"
Lyra shook her head, keeping her gaze locked on his face. "We lived near the ocean. The ocean became our way of keeping clean. We would our clothes in the water. Wash our food items. Take baths when needed." Her mother had always said New Bark Town was an independent village thanks to their proximity to the ocean. It had been a tight knit community until bandits had burned it to the ground.
As if he sensed her sadness, Lance spoke up again and said, "I apologize. I didn't mean to bring up the past. The loss of your village must still be fresh on your mind."
"Yeah… But I don't really want to talk about it." Several days had passed since the slaughter, and it still haunted her mind when she closed her eyes. She remembered it all so vividly. Her mother's death. The wolves. Ash and May dying. And she had done nothing to help them. Perhaps that is why Arceus kept her alive so she could feel guilty for not helping.
"You saw someone die. Your first time," Lance said.
It was as if he had read her mind. Or perhaps she was too transparent that he was able to read the grief and sadness on her face. She didn't move her arms. As tempting as it was to grab some soap for herself, she didn't want to risk exposing herself too much. She already felt vulnerable as it was now. "I saw many people die. The bandits…" She didn't mention the wolves. Shaking her head, she added, "I have to focus on the future and my responsibilities in serving the princess. This marriage… Do you think it will beneficial?" It wasn't her place to ask, but since she'd be serving Clair, she thought she'd be quite involved in it. Besides, Lance seemed open to conversation. After all, he encouraged her to speak freely.
Lance looked hesitant. "I don't know. I want to say yes it will be, but she's never experienced married life and neither have I nor does she have anyone close to her to ask for details. A woman's role is quite different from a man's as you know. Grandmother died. My parents died. Clair's parents also died. Grandfather raised us both as best as he could. There are political reasons for the marriage; he wants to gain the friendship of Unova." He frowned, as if deep in thought or bothered by his own words.
"Does he think the kingdom's safety will be threatened in the future?" Why else would he seek a political marriage like this? People arranged marriages when they were looking for future security.
Lance looked conflicted. "He would never admit it if that was the case. My grandfather has his secrets that he'll probably take with him to the grave. I don't know why he does what he does. I don't even know why he hates the mages and the wolves so much after all these years – they've never openly attacked us. It was my grandfather that gave the order to bring the fight to them. I just… I do as he asks. Because it's the right thing to do," he said slowly, brows furrowed, as if he was second guessing himself.
Loyal to the end, Lyra concluded. He was a knight. It made sense that he had to do what was required of him even if he thought it was wrong. She wondered if he was forcing himself to make conversation with her because it was the right action to take or if he was genuinely interested in her words. "You'd do anything."
"He's my grandfather. He's the king. He makes questionable decisions, but I swore an oath to obey every command."
"Even if you don't agree?" She then bit her bottom lip, as if regretting her choice of words. Although he had encouraged her to speak her mind, did freedom have a limit? What if she angered him? "I'm sorry. This is not my place," she added quickly, casting her eyes downwards.
Unbothered, he said, "Speak your mind. Your words will not be passed onto anyone else. I don't have much of a chance to speak to other people… Your perspective is interesting especially since you're foreign to these walls. You see things differently." He then frowned, seemingly lost in thought then, "To answer your question, I do as what is asked of me. Regardless of the consequences."
She was impressed by his commitment to upholding the oath, but there were so many flaws in his thinking. Following through with an order despite knowing it was wrong seemed like cowardice. Daring herself to speak more, she said, "That's commitment."
"I don't have a choice."
"Everyone has a choice."
He raised an eyebrow. "Really? You didn't choose to become a slave."
"I didn't mean that. I meant if you know deep down in your heart that it's not the right course of action to take, why follow through with it anyway knowing the consequences?' She had made a choice in refusing to help Ash and May. If she had involved herself, she might have died too. Perhaps she was just a coward. "What if the people you were ordered to kill were innocent and you killed them for the sake of an order? Does that make you a noble man?"
He narrowed his eyes. "…You're quite perceptive for a village girl."
She bit down on her lower lip. Perhaps it wasn't the time to speak up. After all, she was just a servant. "My mother knew a lot."
"So, it seems. Quite odd for a peasant. And your father?"
"He died when I was young. No one knows how. He just didn't come home one day."
"My condolences. It must've been difficult."
She shook her head. "There was a lot of work to do, but we managed. I learned how to cook and clean, but I also learned how to chop wood and hunt wild animals for food." Although there were other men in the village, her mother never relied on them for help. She preferred to do everything on her own.
He seemed surprised. "I've never heard of a woman hunting or chopping wood before. Are you going to tell me that you can also wield a sword and use a bow?"
"Not in combat. Just for hunting." Her mother thought it was essential for a woman to know the jobs a man was expected to do. The absence of a father only made it more important. Strangely, her mother never seemed to tire of the work, and she made it look easy. On the other hand, Lyra found it difficult to keep up, but her mother insisted it would become easier in time. "She also taught me how to read and write." This was a rarity for women in small towns and villages. Women weren't supposed to be educated.
"What did she teach you to read?"
"History books mostly and some cooking recipes. Oh, there was also a book about plant life." And a book about potions and how to cure various ailments but she didn't mention that. He might assume she was connected to magic use. "History has always fascinated me. How the world came to be. The great wars of the past. The legendary heroes of past generations and their achievements. I could go on." Talking about her mother only reminded her of how much she missed the woman. She fought to hold back tears.
Much to her surprise, he chuckled. "You are definitely not what I was expecting," he said slowly. "Many of the castle servants lack the ability to read and write as well though we've had a few educated. It certainly makes things a lot easier knowing you can read and write. You can entertain Clair with your stories. Have you ever given a shoulder massage before?"
She almost spluttered. Fortunately, she was able to steady her tone. He wanted a shoulder massage now? Was she also acting as his personal maid too? It was starting to feel like it. First, he wanted to share a bath with her and now he wanted her to give him a massage. What would be next? Share his bed? He wasn't allowed to marry or so she had overheard, but that didn't mean he couldn't use someone for his own needs. "Erm, yes."
"Excellent. Please." He gave her an expectant look.
"Err, of course."
He closed his eyes and leaned back, making himself comfortable. Lyra climbed out of the bath and looked for something to cover herself with, finding a brown towel to wrap around her body. She made sure it was fastened tight then dropped down on her knees behind Lance, placing her hands on his shoulders. Slowly, she began to work her fingers, earning herself what she hoped was a satisfied grunt from Lance.
"You've done this before."
"Yes. It would help relax the shoulders after a hard day's work."
She continued to knead her fingers, applying further pressure to his shoulders. He was tense at first, but slowly relaxed, growing accustomed to her movements. He seemed comfortable at least. That was a sign she was doing something right. A good start. Lance rubbed the back of his neck. That's when she noticed it. An odd mark.
"Is it common for your people to have markings on the back of their necks?" she said, her eyes drawn to a strange crescent mark. It was small – no larger than a thumbnail – and if he hadn't drawn her attention there, she never would've noticed.
"What do you mean?" Lance replied, pulling back his hand.
He seemed just as confused as she was. Perhaps he didn't know, or he was just feigning ignorance. "Well, there's a crescent moon on the back of your neck. It's quite small, but it's there. I've seen it before. In mother's books."
He glanced over his shoulder and looked up at her, his brows furrowed. Again, he rubbed the back of his neck, as if he thought he could remove it by itching at it. "Your mother's books?"
"Yes. She used to write a lot. Her daily observations and the like. She told me a story when I was a little girl about the moon and the wolves. Many people believe the wolves are bad, but mother thought otherwise. She said they were guardians, the protectors of humans. She said one day the wolves would earn their title and the trust of the people."
He frowned. "Protectors? Wolves are a danger."
"Do you really believe that?"
Silence then, "My grandfather fears them." He pulled his hand away again.
He hadn't answered the question. She looked at the crescent marking. It didn't look like it had been burned onto his skin with a hot iron rod, but rather it was just a part of him. She reached out a hand and touched it gently but withdrew almost instantly upon feeling an electrical shock in her fingertips. Lance must've felt it too because he jumped, startled. "I'm sorry," Lyra said, pulling her hand. "I didn't mean…"
"You didn't do anything," he replied slowly.
Her mother used to say that an electrical shock between two people was a sign of sexual compatibility, but Lyra wasn't sure if she was teasing or serious. Besides, Lance was a royal and she was a servant to his cousin. He would probably be disowned by his grandfather if he pursued a relationship with a slave. "…I should probably return to Clair."
He nodded. "Of course." He remained in the bath.
Lyra grabbed her clothing and dressed herself again whilst he kept his gaze averted. "Right."
"I assume you know your way back?"
"Yes."
"'I'm sorry about this. If I made you uncomfortable then I apologize, but I'm glad we had a chance to talk. Perhaps we'll talk again soon when Clair has allowed you free time. I look forward to it. You are an interesting individual. You'll have to tell me about your mother's tales one day."
So formal and polite. Lance was the nice one out of the royal cousins. Despite the awkwardness of sharing a bath together, it hadn't gone as bad as she thought it would be. Their short conversation had been enjoyable and revealed a fair bit of information about Lance. He was the noble loyal knight dedicated to completing a cause no matter the consequence because of an oath. He could be trusted. Now she had to see how Clair compared. She said her farewells and took her leave.
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