Sorry it's so short but I wanted to get it out there so you all know I'm not dead. :)
# # # # # # # # # # #
There's No Place Like Home
# # # # # # # # # # #
Corin briefly summarized all that had happened since Corin was unconscious. "I found this on her desk. He handed his brother the sheet of parchment.
Cor's eyes quickly scanned the document and this is what he read:
Dearest friends,
My cousin Abtin has convinced me that I was wrong in leaving Calormen and spurning Ahosta. By the time you read this, I will already have gone.
With fondest regards,
Aravis.
Cor crumpled the parchment and swung his legs out of the bed.
"What kind of idiot does he take us for? As if we would believe Aravis wrote this drivel! It's not even her hand writing."
Cor went to his wardrobe and, pulling out a large leather satchel, began stuffing it's contents into it.
"What are you doing?" Demanded King Lune.
"Packing, obviously."
"You are not well, Cor. Corin and our best men will go into Calormen to investigate the matter."
"I will not sit idly by!"
"You have no choice!" King Lune boomed. "I gave in on the tournament, but on this I will not. Can not. The Tisroc would like nothing better than to have the crown prince of Archenland's head on a platter. Then Corin would try to avenge you, and if he then failed . . . with no clear succession . . . our kingdom undoubtedly would fall into chaos."
Cor slowly sank down on the edge of his bed. The burden of choices —or lack thereof— bearing down on him.
Corin stepped up and laid a hand on his brother's shoulder. He said nothing but gave it a quick squeeze. Cor looked up at his twin and thought he saw in his eyes a conspiratorial gleam, muffled by his blonde fringe.
"Don't worry, brother," he said quietly.
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
Aravis woke to the sensation of arid heat hitting her cheeks and filling her lungs. She tried to open her eyes but her lids were sleep encrusted with real sand in the mixture, and would not yield to her half-hearted attempts to open them.
"Not yet, cousin." Abtin's voice floated close to her ears then she slipped into oblivion again.
Aravis' next waking moment was cooler and full of scents that were very familiar to her. Cardamom, charoli, cinnamon, rose water.
Aravis' eyes slowly fluttered open, but her lids still drooped heavily. She was greeted by the sight of the purple veils that hung hung over her childhood bed. Raising a languid arm she idly fingered the delicate material. For a moment, she was on the eve of thirteen again, no Ahosta, no step-mother, no talking horses, no awkward tow-headed princes named Cor.
Cor!
Aravis came to full attention and sat up abruptly. Ignoring the momentary swimming before her eyes she gingerly swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She was about to stand when she heard a shrill voice float down to her from the corridor.
"Mother, how long is that ugly woman going to occupy my bed?"
"Not long, Aashika."
Aravis stiffened. She did not recognize the first irritating voice, but the second was her step-mother, Samira.
"But, what does father want with her?" The first voice. Aravis concluded that this must be a new addition to the family.
I have a half-sister . . . and she already doesn't like me. Well, she seems like another Samira, so no loss . . .
Suddenly Samira appeared at the door with a little girl who appeared to be about four years old in tow.
"So, you're up finally. You were always a lazy girl." The older woman looked Aravis up and down with clear scorn. "Make yourself presentable. You're to appear before Kidrash Tarkaan in four minutes."
Aravis drew herself up to her full height, ignoring the protest of muscles still aching from the unorthodox journey.
"I would not stoop to beg your pardon, but tell me . . .why have I been forcibly dragged from my home in Archenland back to this place?"
Samira raised her chin and an eyebrow. "Impudence," she hissed before saying, "I could not say. My husband and I were not expecting you."
"You were not—?" Before Aravis could ask further Samira flounced out of the room with a swish of her sari and many veils.
"Bye, ugly woman," Aashika squeaked before running out the door as Aravis advanced upon her.
"Brat!" She yelled down the hall after her.
