The Yamani Isles- the Emperor's Palace, the Courtyard
J sat under the sweeping willow by the pond, her small fingers braiding the reeds clumsily, but with painstaking care. Her hair was waist-long by now, and the silver strands kept getting tangled in the weave and pulled out. She was frustrated- tears came to her warm brown eyes and one trickled down her dirty cheek, leaving a trail, like a snail might, in the grime.
Mistress Kisha had told her to entertain herself- she and her assistant Adi had to take care of some ill people. J had wandered about, trying to keep out of trouble and out of the way, but she couldn't think of what to do, until she saw the willow. Memories of Mistress Kisha braiding her own hair in the long, complex pattern she kept hidden under her coif. Braiding J's hair, too, sometimes, into a long white rope that wound round and round her head. J had decided that she would try to make one of the pretty water reed crowns that some of the village boys and girls would make, and give to each other to gain favor.
That day, Willin, the stable hand, had made one for a village girl who had come with the caravan, whom he fancied. J had watched carefully as he wove he reeds and tied in some flowers, then set off to find the pretty Thea. Jiikira observed sympathetically as he came upon her kissing Markus, the smith's apprentice, but didn't wait to watch the following confrontation. She instead returned to the pond and set to work making her own crown, trying to mimic the stable hand's movements. The result was a knot of reeds, mud, hair, and gunk that seemed to have been cemented together.
J didn't like to be left alone to her own devices. Most grown-ups assumed that, having been raised by High Priestess Kisha, she would be used to distant, cold treatment. They didn't see Kisha when it was just them two, brushing J's stark white hair and braiding it carefully, telling her stories of far-off land and magic. Grown-ups avoided her, the girl with the white hair. She was bad luck.
As for child companions, they were few and far to come by in the Palace. Because she was a ward of the High Priestess, the guards and commoners were polite to a certain extent, but they wouldn't let their children play with her, and they wouldn't be her friend.
Children of nobles, lords and ladies were so suppressed that they could scarcely move for fear of losing their families' good grace with the Lord Emperor. They would bow as to a lesser in rank, inquire politely after Kisha's health, and lapse into blank-faced passivity. Any more conversation than that made J feel positively loquacious, and not in a good way.
She turned again to the messily woven twine of willow twigs and slowly began the tedious task of loosening and undoing the veritable rock of stalks and leaves and cobwebs and hair. Her fingers were rubbed red and the thought of beginning anew made her want to cry.
But she was eight. Eight-year-olds didn't cry like little babies of seven, or even six, she knew. Kisha had told her. Eight-year-olds were patient and creative and found ways to amuse themselves, better than little seven-year-olds. J was eight and she would not cry.
She still couldn't bring herself to start, and instead just looked at the little pond and the frogs hiding in the mud, and the soft grass and the flowers. There was a stream from where the underground spring filled the pond and smooth rocks with water-moss. She liked it. It was tranquil, every bit of it- the buzzing of the flies, the warm sun. It felt friendly.
She leaned against the willow's trunk, its mossy roots cradling her and her hair blanketing her to keep off the flies. In the warm sun and soft grass, J fell into an early springtime sleep.
When she awoke, something seemed different. The entire area around her was tensed, the focus of the buzzing more excited. J didn't have to look far to figure it out- crouched just two feet away was Hali, the crown princess. J squeaked in surprise, just loud enough to alert the other girl to her new, wakened state, and toppled headfirst into the pond.
Muck coated the inside of her throat and her eyes, and weeds and algae tangled in her hair. She sank, trying to locate the bottom of the pond and swim through the mud. A hand seized the back of her dress and yanked her out of the pond, where she crouched, hacking and coughing up all of the muddy water and pulling the weeds out of her grime-streaked hair.
"Eeugh," she grumbled, then looked up. It couldn't have been Hali pulling her out of the water. Maybe it was just a villager who looked like Hali. But no, she had a small gold circlet, proving her the heir to the throne. And as if that wasn't enough, the girl thrust out her hand and said solemnly, "Hi. I'm Hali."
"J.," said J. dazedly.
"You're really very muddy," observed Princess Hali.
"I guess so."
"You ought to tidy before dinner. There's the evening bell now."
J jumped, startled. I couldn't have been asleep for so long! But Hali was right- the low clang of the bell rang through the courtyard, instigating a flurry of movement as everyone hurried to prepare for dinner. The baker's wife was tying on her new bonnet; Thea the village girl pulled away from Markus reluctantly to get dressed; a maid chased the chickens off of the steps and the guards stood straight and stopped playing cards.
J stood frozen, heart thumping. Kisha would be expecting her back by now, clean and ready to have her hair done up and her fancy dress put on. Here she sat, full across the palace, hair tangled, barefooted, soaking wet and covered in mud.
Hali seemed to sense her anxiety. "Relax. Haven't you ever been late to dinner before?
J shook her head mutely. Hali sighed, exasperated. "I guess that's what comes of being raised by a priestess. You turn into a goody-goody."
"What? Nuh-uh!"
"Well, come on then. I know a place where we can get you cleaned up. Come on!"
"A water barrel? You can't be serious," protested J. "There's no way I'm getting in there. It's got to be freezing!"
Hali grinned a cockeyed grin. " Not quite. The smith dips hot metal in there to cool it off, so it's like a hot bath." She paused. "Well, sort of. But if you're too prissy, you can be a wimp and go crying to Priestess Kisha. I'm sure she'll be delighted to see you in this state.
J. sighed. "I can't go, no matter if I'm dirty or not. My dress is stained, and a little water won't help."
Hali frowned. "That is an issue. You can have one of mine- you're about my size, but your Mama Kisha will know you've been playing in the mud."
"I wasn't-"
"Unless I can ask the maids to fetch one of yours. I just hope I can find Lia. She won't tell, but Asha and Zi will. I'll see what I can do. In the meantime, go ahead and get washed."
"But I'll be soaked-"
"You're already soaked. The difference is, you'll be clean. See ya!" Hali ran back through the back alley they had used to get there with a wink and a wave.
J looked at the the barrel and took a deep breath. Here goes.
Only the chattering of her teeth muted her strangled yelp as she splashed into the frigid water.
"You look fine. Stop fidgeting and let me do the talking. We might even be on time."
Hali, who was much more skilled at weaving than J, had braided J's hair so that it hid the worst of the tangles. J was clean, for the most part, and her new kimono hid the dirty pair of sandals on her feet. "Thanks," said J. "I might even be able to avoid hypothermia."
"Quit overreacting. You'll be fine." Hali herself looked the picture of perfection, the charming and pretty young princess, the epitome of obedience and elegance. Her black hair was done up in an intricate bun, and not a thread was astray on her silk kimono. As an added bonus, she had tucked a bundle of pond lilies in her hair. J could only hope that she didn't look like a complete savage next to the heir to the throne.
They entered the Hall, where the feast that would begin the Wave-walker festival would be held. Kisha wore her bright blue ceremonial robes and appeared to be consulting with several important people, but when she saw J she excused herself and stalked over.
"Jiikira! Where have you been? We've been looking everywhere for you!" She saw Hali and paused, and then looked back to J. "Explain yourself."
Hali stepped up,and with a smile that would have completely won the heart of the toughest old soldier, said "Jiikira and I were getting to know each other. We didn't notice the time. I am very sorry for our troubling you in any way."
Kisha frowned. "I've no doubt you had something to do with this too, Princess, so don't think you're off the hook. But I want to know what Jiikira's been up to."
"Practicing... my embroidery?"
Kisha reached behind J's ear and tugged something from her braid. A strand of pond weed.
"I think this speaks for itself. Lying is a sin, Jiikira. You know better than anyone than you, of all people, cannot grow up to be a sinful person, or we may all be in danger." She paused, and the lines on her brow smoothed a little. "But you are a child, and children make mistakes. Perhaps I can let it pass this once." She eyed Hali. "For both of you."
The girls hugged her and ran off to join the festivities.
I only hope that it is not a mistake. Guide them, Wave-walker.