Category: Queen's Thief
Rating: M
Couples: (at least mention of) Canon ones
Warnings: AU, potentially smut, Character death
Chapter: 10
Copyright: Characters & places © By Megan Whalen Turner, Plot & OC´s © by me
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She had a downright terrible time in life right now. She had been meant as a wife to Bu-seneth when he came back from adding the small Peninsula to the Empire… but he had not come back.
To make matters worse for trying to find a new spouse, one of her brothers had also died on the same campaign. So now all she could do was hope that the relation to the Emperor would outweigh that stain on her reputation enough to find her another husband before she became too old.
She frowned, fingers trailing over the strings of her instrument. The frown deepened when her practice of the new song was ruined by a scream from deeper in the palace. Gods, did her uncle have to bring his entertainment to the palace?
Nahita took a deep breath, putting aside the instrument. There was no way she could practice if her uncle was entertaining himself again.
"Mistress?" The slave neatly seated beside the door looked up when hearing the wood strike wood.
"I want to take a walk." She muttered, gesturing to her shawl. The golden-chained girl rose up, neatly wrapping the shawl around her mistress' head. "There'll be no practice with that in the background." As if in answer, there was another scream, though this time softer. Her uncle's gift was failing by now, it seemed.
Gracefully walking through the women's wing of the Imperial palace, she inadvertently ended up on the top walkway that circled the central courtyard. To ensure the privacy of the women of the imperial family, it was closed off by a small-holed trellis.
She tilted her head at another broken scream, stopping to look down. Her uncle had turned his gift from her former intended into a garden-decoration… It did make one wonder if he had considered that Attolians probably could not handle the Medean summer-heat. It certainly looked like it for the man chained between two poles. She snorted in disdain when they had to dump out a bucket of water over the prisoner's head.
"Mistress?"
"I can't wait until he is gone, that is for certain." Shaking her head, she continued on her way. At least they hadn't tortured him during the night yet, because she did not want to try and sleep through this mess. Perhaps she should see if she could visit one of her sisters for a bit, even if being seen unmarried at her age would be humiliating to the utmost degree. She could only hope her brother would find someone soon before she became really too old for marriage.
At least it was her embarrassing brother that had died, instead of the still-important one. If it had been Naheelid that had died, she could have counted herself lucky if they threw her into a temple as a servant. Now at least she could still hope for life as a priestess if no husband was found.
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Were she the type to lucid dream, she'd be annoyed with having returned to a 4 year-old body, small and clumsy and most importantly utterly lost in a giant castle.
The hallways were utterly devoid of life, though there was no dust or anything. Searching for anyone to show her the way back to… wherever she wanted to be, her short legs carried through the luxurious hallways until she found a massive door that was still slightly open.
Hearing someone talking, she squeezed through the opening, only to bitterly regret it when seeing how full the room was with people that towered over her. She was – in fact – very certain that they were far taller than any other person she had ever met.
Luckily, none of them seemed to notice her, as they were too busy arguing with one another.
"We warned them thrice." A man snarled, the sound of a roaring storm underlying his words. "They did not listen."
"We taught them thrice." A woman conceded, her hair fading into a star-studded darkness. "They did not learn."
"Hubris." The little girl could not see who said that, but the word carried a lot of weight. The atmosphere – already poor – worsened drastically and those of the people she could see started looking enraged. She jumped nearly to the unnaturally high ceiling when someone touched her shoulder. None seemed to notice her near-scream.
"What are you doing here, little mortal?" She was pretty certain the woman didn't look like anything like the many statues of hers, but she could still recognize her. Shesmegah gently lead her out of the room, closing the door behind him. "This is no place for you."
"What… who?" She looked over her shoulder at the closed doors.
"Come now, little mortal." The Goddess chuckled. "I am sure even you know."
"The Gods..." The small mortal breathed. "What… who are they talking about?"
"Mhm..." She lead the way through the hallways. "Foolish little mortals who have forgotten to listen when gods warn them."
That… sounded suspiciously like a lot of myths she had learned. "Oh?" She blinked few times.
"Mercy is the greatest gift gods can give mortals." Shesmegah told her. "But if mortals do not listen… well… My favour is a gift, not a right… You might do well to remember that as well, little mortal."
"I will." Not that she could have said anything else, considering she was speaking to a goddess… somehow.
"And another very important lesson… a little gift to a special girl..." The luxurious dress rustled as the goddess crouched down to come eye-to-eye. "Do not overreach."