Disclaimer: Standard disclaimers apply, as always...LOL Enjoy ch 3.
web page: http://www.geocities.com/keitree
email: inspiredthoughts@hotmail.com
Please Review! =)
Names Index:
Serena-Serenais
Selenity-Selenai
Lita-Leinta
Rei-Rhi
Mina-Minka
Ami-Aimes
Darien-Darius
Kunzite-Kunzath
Nephrite-Nepran
Jadite-Jadreth
Zoicite-Zaite
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~Nightmares Chapter 3~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Serenais watched her mother, face calm, but inside oh how she
seethed with emotion! Queen Selenai paced her currently empty council
chambers as her daughter stared. She was dressed in a plain dress,
silver and white velvet, and wore only her circlet on her brow,
instead of her typically heavier crown. The Queen's pale hands were
clasped in front of her breast and her brow was furrowed as colorless
lips murmured softly to themselves. Selenai looked up once, met her
daughter's deep cerulean gaze, and looked away, mouth tightening.
"You can't do it mother, you need me here, with you, if not as
your child then as your heir." Selenai fought tears and shook her
head with denial, with a mother's irrational denial.
"No Serenais... If there's a war coming, and if the Sleeping
Ones are awake then I guarantee you there will be a war, then you, as
my heir and not just my daughter, must be kept safe. Our country
cannot survive without you." Serenais took one impassioned step
forward as her mother turned her back to her only daughter's pleas.
"It did before Mother! Before we were Roshana and Bleserd
our countries were one and we did not rule! I will not flee into the
countryside. I will not abandon my people..." Serenais took another
forward step and grabbed her mother's cold hands with her own warm
ones.
"I will not abandon you." Queen Selenai sighed and once again
met her daughter's earnest eyes. She reached up and cupped her
child's cheek with her palm before leaning forward and kissing the
Princess's forehead.
"You won't be abandoning your people, you shall be going to
them." Selenai swallowed. "I'm sending you to the Defensive Mounts.
They'll protect you, my little Princess. The regular army will stay
here, in the capital, with me. If... if I should fall you will rule
our people. You're right Serenais, we did not always rule this
country, we earned it, and we will not give it up without a fight!"
Serenais looked up at her mother, her calm, serene, wise mother, and
fought back her own tears. Serenais flung her arms around her mother,
embraced her with all her might, and prayed, feverently, that she
would see her again.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Rhi sighed and stretched from the desk where she had been
keeping up accounts for the household, as restless as she had been
since that night, two faithful days ago, when darkness had gripped her
heart and squeezed. She wasn't her mother... she didn't have that
kind of power, but something was coming... something that kept her
awake at night. She was feverently glad that Bourne had yet to return
from Roshana and his bi-monthly 'business' trip.
Walaw cried pitifully and jumped down from a plush
accompanying chair to mew at her mistress. The small black cat,
purring loudly, wove herself around Rhi's legs, yowling imperiously as
her brother watched placidly from the plush rug in front of the
fireplace. Rhi knelt, scratched behind Walaw's ears to placate her,
and clicked for Waerl. The big tom sighed and rose with a stretch
that mirrored Rhi's before strolling over. She scooped him up and he
growled, displeased with the indignity inherent in being a comfort
animal.
The two black cats had shown up on the servant's kitchen
entrance several years ago, soon after she had married Bourne. By a
flux Rhi had been there, interviewing new help, when the kittens were
discovered. Bourne's steward had wanted to dispose of the 'nuisances'
but Rhi, feeling lonely, isolated, withdrawn in a house devoid of
affection, of anything at all but money and prestige, had opposed
vehemently, and had taken the two for pets.
Bourne had thrown a temper tantrum aiken to a child's pure
fury but Rhi, Rhi had stooped and pleaded, to appease his little boy's
mind, and had been able to keep the felines. To keep Walaw who was
all black and Waerl whose ebony fur was marred by a splash of white
across his broad breast.
In times of trouble, in times of pain, in times like now, of
uncertainty, they were her staunchest companions, her only friends in
this world she lived in, as a stranger, a world of intrigues, and
politics. She dropped the tom and he settled next to his restless
sister, absently grooming and regrooming his fur as he watched her out
of the corner of sky blue eyes.
Rhi rose and, cold despite the roaring fire in the cozy
office, rubbed shivering arms and jumped when there was a tentative
knock on the thick door. Rhi gathered her velvet robe around her
slender form and answered it. Bourne's disapproving manservant stood
at the door, formal in the house livery.
"A message for you, Lady Rhiana." Rhi glared at the man and
he stared, deadpanned, back, with an emotionless gray gaze. With a sigh
she held out one slender wristed hand.
"Let's have it then Geffry." Geffry hesitated for one moment
too long, long enough for Rhi to curl her crimson painted nails in
frustration, before he bowed and acquiesced, pulling the 'message'
from his breast pocket.
She stared at the ebony feather, a thing so dark it rivaled
obsidian, so dark it was dull, so dark it held currents of violet and
aquamarine. Walaw and Waerl, silent now, came and sat at her feet,
two pairs of eyes calmly watching the feather, one slitted gaze green,
one sparkling blue. Rhi, pale fingers trembling, took the precious
fragile thing from the manservant.
"Thank you Geffry," she said shortly. The man bowed mockingly
and turned on one polished heel. The door swung closed behind him,
leaving Rhi there alone, stroking the feather from her mother's raven
companion with an absent caress. It was a call, a command, it meant
one thing, demanded one thing, that she come home.
Rhi lifted the single feather to pale lips and kissed it,
smelling on it her mother's perfume, and the slightly musty warm smell
that accompanied Jerice, her mother's raven. It was quiet in the
room, so quiet that Rhi could hear the muffled sounds of Cook
preparing dinner, and two maids bickering a hall away. She looked
down at her own two companions, recognizing for the first time that
they were indeed more than pets, than friends, they were companions,
companions like Jerice, like all the other animals who willingly
decided to spend their lives with one of the Landless.
Walaw blinked and Waerl's bushy tail twitched with feline
amusement. A smile, not borne of happiness, but of sheer relief,
curved Rhi's lips upwards, transforming her somewhat severe face into
something truly beautiful. "Home..." she whispered as she clutched
the feather so close it almost snapped. "Home..."
Home to a family that she hadn't seen in decades, home to a
life of vagrancy, if there was any hope for life at all, for the
feather was an emergency signal... Her mother would have never sent
the message if something dire, something that threatened the future of
the world, wasn't in the works. Because Rhi's line was destined for,
if not greatness then notoriety. Her people knew and if it was not
Rhi who was marked by Fate then it was her not yet conceived
children. But if Rhen had called her daughter, her beloved abandoned
daughter, then Fate had made its will clear, and it had named unlucky
Rhi as its earthly tool.
Rhi laughed.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Nepran sipped the hot coffee from a crude clay mug as he gazed
at the campfire, surrounded by men and women he had long called
friends, though they could never be friends in the true sense of the
word. He was accepted as much as any outsider could be but he would
always inherently be that, an outsider. The Landless were a close
knit family. One could not gain entrance into that esteemed clan with
merit alone, though he had enough of that in their eyes.
After all, he bred the finest horses in the countries of
Bleserd or Roshana, and each time he brought a string through he
almost always parted with one of his number when he met the
Landless. It was a small price to pay, or give, for they demanded no
such payment from him. They were a proud people, despite their
inherent poverty, or perhaps because of it... They did not accept
gifts.
Yet they accepted his fillies, his gelded colts... Those who
were too shy, to sweet, to slow, to imperfect in one physical feature
to be a mount for the Defensive Mounts, Bleserd's famed cavalry and
Nepran's chief patron, almost his only patron since few others could
afford his prices. They accepted his horses and in return he had yet
to be attacked by bandits on his journey... or numerous other
tragedies that could befall a lone traveler with precious cargo.
Their legendary 'luck' protected them, and their close affiliation
with the bandits kept them from harm, and thus him. He wore a black
bandanna around his arm at all times... It identified him as a ward of
the Landless... there were few enough that people who knew what it
meant generally took notice.
Rhen got his attention by placing one light hand on his
shoulder. He turned and rose, greeting her with a large smile that
she returned, albeit smaller in size. She was a beautiful lady, a
dangerous lady, and he did not use the word lady lightly. She dressed
brightly, like all her people did, in vibrant colors and flashy
clothes. She wore jewelry, lots of it, but tastefully... She did
everything with style, a style all her own, but style. Her hair was
loose, free, and reached almost to her feet. Rhen was not a young
woman but visages of beauty were still apparent, her features were too
strong to ever truly fade with age. You ignored her face, her raven
hair unstreaked yet with age, when you saw her eyes. They were
violet, amethyst, and something that spoke of power, all rolled into
one. You could loose yourself in them if you weren't careful...
Nepran was very, very careful.
"Hallo stranger," she said as she sat beside him at the fire.
Stranger was a double edge sword. "It's been awhile." He smiled and
nodded in mute agreement.
"Aye Lady, it has..." Her mouth tightened at the title but
she did not reprimand him, he'd been calling her that for years. She
only sighed and stared into the flames, face pensive, more unguarded
then he had yet to see in the leader of the Landless.
"Do you plan to move on to Bleserd?" He raised dark brows,
obvious questions were uncommon for Rhen but he answered anyway,
warily.
"Yes, tomorrow morning." Rhen rose in one fluid motion and
let her dark eyes match his for one fire filled moment. He shivered.
Oh, how she burned inside...
"I'd recommend waiting several days..." Nepran waited,
knowing, in some obscure way, that there was more to the puzzle...
"I've sent for my daughter," another pause, "You shall always have our
hospitality Nepran." Rhen turned on her heel then and left, leaving
him studying her thoughtfully. Perhaps it was best to wait a few
days... It wasn't the first time that he had delayed his journey into
Bleserd. He lifted the mug once again to his lips and finished the
coffee off.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Minka pulled her dark shawl closer and drew the fragrant red
rose tightly to her breast before throwing it on top of the hundreds
that covered the dark casket of the late King Trennan. She watched,
solemn, as the funeral procession filed by, and only raised her bowed
head to see the newly crowned King of Roshanna, King Darius.
He rode in an open, gilded coach pulled by two perfectly
matched ebony stallions behind the casket. No one looked at the
trappings though, all eyes turned to the royalty that now ruled them.
Silence spread like plague as he swept slowly by, even the sobs and
wailing of the grieved populace was muffled. Darius was not a monster
in the eyes of Roshana, he was a boy, an untrained, untested boy, and
he looked the part.
He was a year older than Minka's mature seventeen but he still
looked like a young child. His face was noble, defined, but not yet
as defined as it would be when it reached true adulthood. His boyish
earnest blue eyes stood out, startling, framed by hair so black it was
almost blue as well. His expression had yet to achieve the hardened
mask of true monarchs... there was too much earnestness, idealism in
him to inspire confidence. His fine dress and carriage only
emphasized his childishness, instead of lessening it.
King Trennan had been worshipped by his people, for all the
qualities his son had yet to develop or show. Perhaps, given time,
the young King could acquire some of the greatness of his father. If
he had time. Minka swallowed as she suddenly thought of the darkness
that had gripped her those few days ago.
King Darius's gaze settled and met her own hardened, bitter
blue eyes. His strong, full mouth tightened in a slight echo of
recognition, not that Minka had ever served her new King, once Prince,
in the profession she was currently employed. No, Darius had never
frequented Nobility's Escape, as a customer. He had as a child
though. He and Minka had spent hours playing war and dolls and hide
and seek in the private, spacious back rooms of the brothel, while
King Trennan had been visiting Malda, owner of Nobility's Escape.
Malda had not served any customer for almost thirty years,
ever since she opened Nobility's Escape, since King Trennan had funded
it. It was not unseemly for a man of great power or royalty to keep a
discreet mistress. Malda had been such a woman, when both she and
Trennan were young, before he even married. After his political
marriage he had kept his relationship with Malda, had been hers
faithfully after his wife's death and Darius's birth. If he had been
a commoner, or Malda nobility, then they would have married for sure.
They would have grown old together, happily in love, Minka knew that.
Not that they hadn't found happiness with each other. Even as
Malda had aged, gracefully granted, but aged through forty years as
Trennan's lover he had never accepted another to his bed save his
wife. Rank held them apart to some extent but nothing stopped Trennan
from giving Malda enough money to open her own brothel, or from making
it such a respectable place that no one but nobility frequented there,
or from continuing to visit Malda several times a year.
It was during such visits that Minka and Darius had played.
Trennan recognized the necessity of social classes but he never looked
down on those who earned their living with their hands, or their
bodies. Minka's own mother had been an employee at Nobility's
Escape. She, a frail yet stunningly beautiful woman, had died when
Minka was several years old. Malda had kept her, had raised Minka as
her own quasi daughter. It had been Minka's choice to stay and become
one of the women at Nobility's Escape. Malda could have easily
married her off to a farmer in the country or small store owner in the
city, but what kind of life would that have been?
A life without joy, without purpose, chained, helpless, to a
mere man. Her mind flinched away from the memory of the one man she
had almost willing chained herself to... Women had few real legal
rights in Roshana, especially low classed women. Here, at Nobility's
Escape, she led a comfortable life, pampered, adored, but also
intelligent lively... She was learned, well spoken, and well
mannered. The first was due to her own interest in reading, the
second from spending hours with nobles, the third because their
customers demanded no less. Besides, Minka had one advantage few
women of her situation did... she had future security.
When Malda had finally yielded to the realization that Minka
would stay in her adoptive mother's profession, Malda had begun to
groom her for the day that she would step down, or pass away. When
Malda left Minka would take over Nobility's Escape, and all its
considerable assets. The idea pleased her, though she hoped for
Malda's sake that it happened none too soon.
Darius broke his gaze away first and Minka smiled, sadly. She
was not here to honor Trennan's memory. She had never known her past
King, but to honor Malda's love of him. Her adoptive mother hadn't
stopped crying since word had spread of her beloved's death. Malda
would recover, in time, of that Minka had not doubt. But she was not
yet ready to face the stark reality of Trennan's death, not yet ready
to see his coffin, or to see the boy who had once played in her rooms
crowned King.
So Minka had come instead.
Darius rode past, eyes deliberately resting anywhere in the
crowd but on Minka's face. She watched him intently until he passed.
A richly cloaked man in midnight blue rode behind the coach on a white
stallion. He was dressed almost as fine as Darius but unlike the
King, this man was no child. He rode tall, with a fierce maturity in
his posture that caught one's attention subtlety, and held it. One
well-shaped hand rested warily on the sword strapped around his trim
waist, its scabbard worn from use, though well decorated.
Minka met his gaze briefly and felt herself smile faintly.
There was nothing of Darius's idealism or earnestness in eyes too pale
to truly be called sapphire. Perhaps they were ice, or fire, or some
pale, silver cross between the two that burned as it froze. She did
not recognize the man but then, she had not seen Darius in years. The
man nodded simply to her, with a condescending arrogance that was well
familiar in royalty and nobility, a smirk tugging on features too
hawkish to ever be called handsome.
Then the man rode past as well; ashen hair swirling behind him
like a cape as his horse's hooves kicked up a flurry of rose petals.
Minka sighed and let go of the breath that she had unconsciously been
holding. She looked down at her clasped hands and expelled a slightly
more exasperated breath when she saw the myriad of cuts the thorns had
made when she had clung tightly to the rose, before she had thrown it
onto King Trennan's casket.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Author's Notes: Long time, no update, I know. Let's just say that
college applications stink and leave it at that... well that and I'm
trying not to have a nervous, stress induced breakdown... *laughs
quickly* Umm, I believe that's all!
C-ya'll, Kei
web page: http://www.geocities.com/keitree
email: inspiredthoughts@hotmail.com
Please Review! =)
Names Index:
Serena-Serenais
Selenity-Selenai
Lita-Leinta
Rei-Rhi
Mina-Minka
Ami-Aimes
Darien-Darius
Kunzite-Kunzath
Nephrite-Nepran
Jadite-Jadreth
Zoicite-Zaite
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~Nightmares Chapter 3~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Serenais watched her mother, face calm, but inside oh how she
seethed with emotion! Queen Selenai paced her currently empty council
chambers as her daughter stared. She was dressed in a plain dress,
silver and white velvet, and wore only her circlet on her brow,
instead of her typically heavier crown. The Queen's pale hands were
clasped in front of her breast and her brow was furrowed as colorless
lips murmured softly to themselves. Selenai looked up once, met her
daughter's deep cerulean gaze, and looked away, mouth tightening.
"You can't do it mother, you need me here, with you, if not as
your child then as your heir." Selenai fought tears and shook her
head with denial, with a mother's irrational denial.
"No Serenais... If there's a war coming, and if the Sleeping
Ones are awake then I guarantee you there will be a war, then you, as
my heir and not just my daughter, must be kept safe. Our country
cannot survive without you." Serenais took one impassioned step
forward as her mother turned her back to her only daughter's pleas.
"It did before Mother! Before we were Roshana and Bleserd
our countries were one and we did not rule! I will not flee into the
countryside. I will not abandon my people..." Serenais took another
forward step and grabbed her mother's cold hands with her own warm
ones.
"I will not abandon you." Queen Selenai sighed and once again
met her daughter's earnest eyes. She reached up and cupped her
child's cheek with her palm before leaning forward and kissing the
Princess's forehead.
"You won't be abandoning your people, you shall be going to
them." Selenai swallowed. "I'm sending you to the Defensive Mounts.
They'll protect you, my little Princess. The regular army will stay
here, in the capital, with me. If... if I should fall you will rule
our people. You're right Serenais, we did not always rule this
country, we earned it, and we will not give it up without a fight!"
Serenais looked up at her mother, her calm, serene, wise mother, and
fought back her own tears. Serenais flung her arms around her mother,
embraced her with all her might, and prayed, feverently, that she
would see her again.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Rhi sighed and stretched from the desk where she had been
keeping up accounts for the household, as restless as she had been
since that night, two faithful days ago, when darkness had gripped her
heart and squeezed. She wasn't her mother... she didn't have that
kind of power, but something was coming... something that kept her
awake at night. She was feverently glad that Bourne had yet to return
from Roshana and his bi-monthly 'business' trip.
Walaw cried pitifully and jumped down from a plush
accompanying chair to mew at her mistress. The small black cat,
purring loudly, wove herself around Rhi's legs, yowling imperiously as
her brother watched placidly from the plush rug in front of the
fireplace. Rhi knelt, scratched behind Walaw's ears to placate her,
and clicked for Waerl. The big tom sighed and rose with a stretch
that mirrored Rhi's before strolling over. She scooped him up and he
growled, displeased with the indignity inherent in being a comfort
animal.
The two black cats had shown up on the servant's kitchen
entrance several years ago, soon after she had married Bourne. By a
flux Rhi had been there, interviewing new help, when the kittens were
discovered. Bourne's steward had wanted to dispose of the 'nuisances'
but Rhi, feeling lonely, isolated, withdrawn in a house devoid of
affection, of anything at all but money and prestige, had opposed
vehemently, and had taken the two for pets.
Bourne had thrown a temper tantrum aiken to a child's pure
fury but Rhi, Rhi had stooped and pleaded, to appease his little boy's
mind, and had been able to keep the felines. To keep Walaw who was
all black and Waerl whose ebony fur was marred by a splash of white
across his broad breast.
In times of trouble, in times of pain, in times like now, of
uncertainty, they were her staunchest companions, her only friends in
this world she lived in, as a stranger, a world of intrigues, and
politics. She dropped the tom and he settled next to his restless
sister, absently grooming and regrooming his fur as he watched her out
of the corner of sky blue eyes.
Rhi rose and, cold despite the roaring fire in the cozy
office, rubbed shivering arms and jumped when there was a tentative
knock on the thick door. Rhi gathered her velvet robe around her
slender form and answered it. Bourne's disapproving manservant stood
at the door, formal in the house livery.
"A message for you, Lady Rhiana." Rhi glared at the man and
he stared, deadpanned, back, with an emotionless gray gaze. With a sigh
she held out one slender wristed hand.
"Let's have it then Geffry." Geffry hesitated for one moment
too long, long enough for Rhi to curl her crimson painted nails in
frustration, before he bowed and acquiesced, pulling the 'message'
from his breast pocket.
She stared at the ebony feather, a thing so dark it rivaled
obsidian, so dark it was dull, so dark it held currents of violet and
aquamarine. Walaw and Waerl, silent now, came and sat at her feet,
two pairs of eyes calmly watching the feather, one slitted gaze green,
one sparkling blue. Rhi, pale fingers trembling, took the precious
fragile thing from the manservant.
"Thank you Geffry," she said shortly. The man bowed mockingly
and turned on one polished heel. The door swung closed behind him,
leaving Rhi there alone, stroking the feather from her mother's raven
companion with an absent caress. It was a call, a command, it meant
one thing, demanded one thing, that she come home.
Rhi lifted the single feather to pale lips and kissed it,
smelling on it her mother's perfume, and the slightly musty warm smell
that accompanied Jerice, her mother's raven. It was quiet in the
room, so quiet that Rhi could hear the muffled sounds of Cook
preparing dinner, and two maids bickering a hall away. She looked
down at her own two companions, recognizing for the first time that
they were indeed more than pets, than friends, they were companions,
companions like Jerice, like all the other animals who willingly
decided to spend their lives with one of the Landless.
Walaw blinked and Waerl's bushy tail twitched with feline
amusement. A smile, not borne of happiness, but of sheer relief,
curved Rhi's lips upwards, transforming her somewhat severe face into
something truly beautiful. "Home..." she whispered as she clutched
the feather so close it almost snapped. "Home..."
Home to a family that she hadn't seen in decades, home to a
life of vagrancy, if there was any hope for life at all, for the
feather was an emergency signal... Her mother would have never sent
the message if something dire, something that threatened the future of
the world, wasn't in the works. Because Rhi's line was destined for,
if not greatness then notoriety. Her people knew and if it was not
Rhi who was marked by Fate then it was her not yet conceived
children. But if Rhen had called her daughter, her beloved abandoned
daughter, then Fate had made its will clear, and it had named unlucky
Rhi as its earthly tool.
Rhi laughed.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Nepran sipped the hot coffee from a crude clay mug as he gazed
at the campfire, surrounded by men and women he had long called
friends, though they could never be friends in the true sense of the
word. He was accepted as much as any outsider could be but he would
always inherently be that, an outsider. The Landless were a close
knit family. One could not gain entrance into that esteemed clan with
merit alone, though he had enough of that in their eyes.
After all, he bred the finest horses in the countries of
Bleserd or Roshana, and each time he brought a string through he
almost always parted with one of his number when he met the
Landless. It was a small price to pay, or give, for they demanded no
such payment from him. They were a proud people, despite their
inherent poverty, or perhaps because of it... They did not accept
gifts.
Yet they accepted his fillies, his gelded colts... Those who
were too shy, to sweet, to slow, to imperfect in one physical feature
to be a mount for the Defensive Mounts, Bleserd's famed cavalry and
Nepran's chief patron, almost his only patron since few others could
afford his prices. They accepted his horses and in return he had yet
to be attacked by bandits on his journey... or numerous other
tragedies that could befall a lone traveler with precious cargo.
Their legendary 'luck' protected them, and their close affiliation
with the bandits kept them from harm, and thus him. He wore a black
bandanna around his arm at all times... It identified him as a ward of
the Landless... there were few enough that people who knew what it
meant generally took notice.
Rhen got his attention by placing one light hand on his
shoulder. He turned and rose, greeting her with a large smile that
she returned, albeit smaller in size. She was a beautiful lady, a
dangerous lady, and he did not use the word lady lightly. She dressed
brightly, like all her people did, in vibrant colors and flashy
clothes. She wore jewelry, lots of it, but tastefully... She did
everything with style, a style all her own, but style. Her hair was
loose, free, and reached almost to her feet. Rhen was not a young
woman but visages of beauty were still apparent, her features were too
strong to ever truly fade with age. You ignored her face, her raven
hair unstreaked yet with age, when you saw her eyes. They were
violet, amethyst, and something that spoke of power, all rolled into
one. You could loose yourself in them if you weren't careful...
Nepran was very, very careful.
"Hallo stranger," she said as she sat beside him at the fire.
Stranger was a double edge sword. "It's been awhile." He smiled and
nodded in mute agreement.
"Aye Lady, it has..." Her mouth tightened at the title but
she did not reprimand him, he'd been calling her that for years. She
only sighed and stared into the flames, face pensive, more unguarded
then he had yet to see in the leader of the Landless.
"Do you plan to move on to Bleserd?" He raised dark brows,
obvious questions were uncommon for Rhen but he answered anyway,
warily.
"Yes, tomorrow morning." Rhen rose in one fluid motion and
let her dark eyes match his for one fire filled moment. He shivered.
Oh, how she burned inside...
"I'd recommend waiting several days..." Nepran waited,
knowing, in some obscure way, that there was more to the puzzle...
"I've sent for my daughter," another pause, "You shall always have our
hospitality Nepran." Rhen turned on her heel then and left, leaving
him studying her thoughtfully. Perhaps it was best to wait a few
days... It wasn't the first time that he had delayed his journey into
Bleserd. He lifted the mug once again to his lips and finished the
coffee off.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Minka pulled her dark shawl closer and drew the fragrant red
rose tightly to her breast before throwing it on top of the hundreds
that covered the dark casket of the late King Trennan. She watched,
solemn, as the funeral procession filed by, and only raised her bowed
head to see the newly crowned King of Roshanna, King Darius.
He rode in an open, gilded coach pulled by two perfectly
matched ebony stallions behind the casket. No one looked at the
trappings though, all eyes turned to the royalty that now ruled them.
Silence spread like plague as he swept slowly by, even the sobs and
wailing of the grieved populace was muffled. Darius was not a monster
in the eyes of Roshana, he was a boy, an untrained, untested boy, and
he looked the part.
He was a year older than Minka's mature seventeen but he still
looked like a young child. His face was noble, defined, but not yet
as defined as it would be when it reached true adulthood. His boyish
earnest blue eyes stood out, startling, framed by hair so black it was
almost blue as well. His expression had yet to achieve the hardened
mask of true monarchs... there was too much earnestness, idealism in
him to inspire confidence. His fine dress and carriage only
emphasized his childishness, instead of lessening it.
King Trennan had been worshipped by his people, for all the
qualities his son had yet to develop or show. Perhaps, given time,
the young King could acquire some of the greatness of his father. If
he had time. Minka swallowed as she suddenly thought of the darkness
that had gripped her those few days ago.
King Darius's gaze settled and met her own hardened, bitter
blue eyes. His strong, full mouth tightened in a slight echo of
recognition, not that Minka had ever served her new King, once Prince,
in the profession she was currently employed. No, Darius had never
frequented Nobility's Escape, as a customer. He had as a child
though. He and Minka had spent hours playing war and dolls and hide
and seek in the private, spacious back rooms of the brothel, while
King Trennan had been visiting Malda, owner of Nobility's Escape.
Malda had not served any customer for almost thirty years,
ever since she opened Nobility's Escape, since King Trennan had funded
it. It was not unseemly for a man of great power or royalty to keep a
discreet mistress. Malda had been such a woman, when both she and
Trennan were young, before he even married. After his political
marriage he had kept his relationship with Malda, had been hers
faithfully after his wife's death and Darius's birth. If he had been
a commoner, or Malda nobility, then they would have married for sure.
They would have grown old together, happily in love, Minka knew that.
Not that they hadn't found happiness with each other. Even as
Malda had aged, gracefully granted, but aged through forty years as
Trennan's lover he had never accepted another to his bed save his
wife. Rank held them apart to some extent but nothing stopped Trennan
from giving Malda enough money to open her own brothel, or from making
it such a respectable place that no one but nobility frequented there,
or from continuing to visit Malda several times a year.
It was during such visits that Minka and Darius had played.
Trennan recognized the necessity of social classes but he never looked
down on those who earned their living with their hands, or their
bodies. Minka's own mother had been an employee at Nobility's
Escape. She, a frail yet stunningly beautiful woman, had died when
Minka was several years old. Malda had kept her, had raised Minka as
her own quasi daughter. It had been Minka's choice to stay and become
one of the women at Nobility's Escape. Malda could have easily
married her off to a farmer in the country or small store owner in the
city, but what kind of life would that have been?
A life without joy, without purpose, chained, helpless, to a
mere man. Her mind flinched away from the memory of the one man she
had almost willing chained herself to... Women had few real legal
rights in Roshana, especially low classed women. Here, at Nobility's
Escape, she led a comfortable life, pampered, adored, but also
intelligent lively... She was learned, well spoken, and well
mannered. The first was due to her own interest in reading, the
second from spending hours with nobles, the third because their
customers demanded no less. Besides, Minka had one advantage few
women of her situation did... she had future security.
When Malda had finally yielded to the realization that Minka
would stay in her adoptive mother's profession, Malda had begun to
groom her for the day that she would step down, or pass away. When
Malda left Minka would take over Nobility's Escape, and all its
considerable assets. The idea pleased her, though she hoped for
Malda's sake that it happened none too soon.
Darius broke his gaze away first and Minka smiled, sadly. She
was not here to honor Trennan's memory. She had never known her past
King, but to honor Malda's love of him. Her adoptive mother hadn't
stopped crying since word had spread of her beloved's death. Malda
would recover, in time, of that Minka had not doubt. But she was not
yet ready to face the stark reality of Trennan's death, not yet ready
to see his coffin, or to see the boy who had once played in her rooms
crowned King.
So Minka had come instead.
Darius rode past, eyes deliberately resting anywhere in the
crowd but on Minka's face. She watched him intently until he passed.
A richly cloaked man in midnight blue rode behind the coach on a white
stallion. He was dressed almost as fine as Darius but unlike the
King, this man was no child. He rode tall, with a fierce maturity in
his posture that caught one's attention subtlety, and held it. One
well-shaped hand rested warily on the sword strapped around his trim
waist, its scabbard worn from use, though well decorated.
Minka met his gaze briefly and felt herself smile faintly.
There was nothing of Darius's idealism or earnestness in eyes too pale
to truly be called sapphire. Perhaps they were ice, or fire, or some
pale, silver cross between the two that burned as it froze. She did
not recognize the man but then, she had not seen Darius in years. The
man nodded simply to her, with a condescending arrogance that was well
familiar in royalty and nobility, a smirk tugging on features too
hawkish to ever be called handsome.
Then the man rode past as well; ashen hair swirling behind him
like a cape as his horse's hooves kicked up a flurry of rose petals.
Minka sighed and let go of the breath that she had unconsciously been
holding. She looked down at her clasped hands and expelled a slightly
more exasperated breath when she saw the myriad of cuts the thorns had
made when she had clung tightly to the rose, before she had thrown it
onto King Trennan's casket.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Author's Notes: Long time, no update, I know. Let's just say that
college applications stink and leave it at that... well that and I'm
trying not to have a nervous, stress induced breakdown... *laughs
quickly* Umm, I believe that's all!
C-ya'll, Kei
