vizier=administratively responsible for the day to day function of the kingdom, as well as overseeing special tasks and events.
Pschent=power over all
direct sow=planting seeds directly into your outdoor garden soil
cultivar= a plant bred by humans to exhibit a distinct and desired trait
It's been a week and a half.
You suddenly awoke, not out of fright or anything this time, but just because really. You stare vacantly at the high ceiling of you room equally spacious room; the room was a decent size spacious but nothing like the villa and definitely not like your room when you lived with your parents or the room was given to you by….that side of the family, an angry shutter ran across your body.
Still, from others' perspectives, this room would be considered spacious, with a touch of minimal luxury. This mattress and bedding could cover half a down payment of a car. And despite all its quality and comfort, it just didn't provide it.
The bedding you had when you lived with your mjomba and his wife had more comfort and your room felt comforting too. Even though it was smaller than the other rooms you've had and just as warm as your room with your parents. Eventually, your villa room became that.
Tempting as it was to lay here and keep your thoughts on sentimental(partial) memories you hadn't the urge and get up and out of bed. Before you did completely and grabbed your robe folded properly, by Roselyn, and placed on the chaise lounge near the window, you felt the urge to turn around to the spot next to you. Though your heart began swelling with joy, it quickly deflated as you knew that side was empty and cold. Your hand hadn't adjusted and you felt it slide back and interlace with the air.
You had every mind to pull it back but didn't despite how painful it felt. After another minute your hand came back lonely. You remained seated on the bed and finally pushed yourself up.
You grab your robe, slip it over a buttoned-up nightshirt, and leave the room.
The halls were stalely quiet, a grim reminiscent of the halls of your three years of hell before your marriage. Instead of alabaster stone as material and decorative rows of columns etched with the ornamented branding upon your back, a cross with a loop at the top with its arms curved down, it was hardwood stretching what seemed to be endless.
You hadn't any soft light lanterns hanging from the walls or columns for light, the stars and moon were kind enough to seep in through the large windows lining the halls. Your silhouette stretched ahead of you, each step you took orderly and feathered.
What you wouldn't give to just run, the urge was there. But a slight fear, that you hadn't felt in years, shackled you.
You wised up quickly from that fear and 'cultured' yourself properly.
Your vizier made sure of it was, everyone and anyone like you had to be 'cultured' it was the Pschent's order. Of course, those of the Ennead were especially 'cultured'.
How else would your curse technique be honed?
You finally reach the end of the hall and find yourself before the stairs. Holding the railing you descend.
Once at the bottom, you make your way through another exposed hallway with large windows.
You weren't sure where you were going, so you continued walking through different parts and sections. You didn't look into any rooms when you entered, you just stopped, opened the door, and stood there absently, and closed it.
This continued until you finally stopped and felt a delicate breeze brush against your skin, you realized you were outside on the veranda. The openness of the sky above and around….was tempting to fly off.
You walk to the edge of the veranda and stop. You stand there for a couple of minutes staring straight ahead, the nipping chill carried in the breeze didn't bother you one bit. Living on a coastal island for ten years, with warm weather constantly, built up resistance in you.
This chill was odd, you thought confused.
It shouldn't be, you lived in it for a few years, before….well the 'transition', that's what your Vizier told you it was, or was it 'transaction'?
You didn't want to unearth that memory when you first arrived after being taken.
Taking another moment you turn away and go back inside.
"My lady! Come you're freezing," Roselyn fretted, surprising you.
You come vaguely to your senses and find her standing by your side, in her long, modest nightgown, and tied robe. She took you gently in her arms and, after shutting the door and locking it, guided you back to your room. Ziad was there too, he had a cup of tea set on your nightstand and was holding a beige, thin book. He moved your blankets back, allowing Roselyn to set you in. He helped her cover you and then presented the book to you.
Instantly you knew what it was, your heart used to fill with slight trepidation, and now it swelled with joy.
It was an album, your treasured album. One of the few things Roselyn was able to save.
Under Roselyn and Zied's concern observation. You open it, get comfortable, and tenderly gaze at the pictures. A tiny smile formed on your face, bringing life to it and the shine back to your eyes.
Roselyn and Ziad quickly exchange relief and pleased glances.
"Oh, remember this one, Roselyn," you stop on a page and tap the picture of yourself.
She came over and looked. She smiled fondly at the picture or better image of you taken for The Garden and you were deemed the lotus. You were dressed in, a river of white silk, flowing around you in a single, elegant sweep. Its straight neckline and sleeveless design reveal your shoulders and arms. A subtle golden belt hugs your waist, emphasizing your curves and slender frame and importantly you were an adult, adding a touch of regal splendor to your demeanor.
You looked on awingly.
Upon your brow sits a golden circlet, adorned with lapis lazuli. Your eyes, lined with kohl, powered lightly with golden eyeshadow atop your eyelids, and your lips, painted a delicate shade of coral. Your hair delicately cascaded down your back. You held a direct gaze at the camera, you were told to do so. Your eyes were alluring and innocent. In your hand, held delicately, a lotus.
Below the image, in white font on a black box background, is your information. You didn't read it and kept your attention to your image, you were just...halfway through seventeen, almost eighteen. After this was taken it was a direct sow, which led to cultivar(marriage). There was more to the process, right now they meant nothing to you.
"Yes, I do," Rosely answered, setting a hand on your shoulder, "if I recall Lord Geto found you this way."
You nod affirmingly, with a smile to match. "Yes, indeed he did. Well, actually if I recall it was Shui who did."
"Yes. It was. Despite that man's...interesting characteristics, it was quite kind of him to reunite you and Lord Geto after quite some time apart."
Your smile brightened a bit and your heart chuckled. "Yes. Despite how it all started..." you let out the softest and heartwarming sigh, as you feel tears slowly forming in your eyes, "it was enjoyable." You choke on the tears, trying hard to hide them.
Roselyn squeezed your shoulder tenderly, "Enjoyable. Yes, my Lady. Very much so."
"I never understood why he preferred this image of me," you force a light laugh to prevent from shedding one tear and reach up a hand to your locket and touch it lightly, "but I suppose I understand now."
"You were and are still beautiful," Roselyn complimented consolingly, "you deserved to be the Lotus."
"Despite my taintness."
Ziad's eyes narrow at those words. You felt them.
"Don't be upset, Zied," you smile at him, he looks at you still with his eyes narrowed but lets it dissolve and nods.
"You were never tainted, my Lady," Rosely said motherly, "they were just blind and couldn't see. You were blessed with inheriting Ennead. Not even your brother nor sister, with their purity" the word came out with venom, "didn't inherit. Which I am glad, the two were rotten if not distasteful."
Ziad agreed with a thumbs up and two blinks.
Their words touched you, despite your echoing memories of your cries of distress, "I believe that is enough for now." You close the book. Roselyn held her hand out to take it, your fingers grip it tightly, refusing to give it over. She understood and withdrew her hand.
"Would you like a sip of tea before resting," she asked picking it up and presenting it to you.
You hold up a hand, declining, "No. Thank you. Forgive me for wasting such a fine cup of tea."
"No need to apologize," she said taking no offense, and handed off to Zied.
He took it and drank it. Roselyn grunted and wanted to say something but left it alone, you were her priority, "Do you need anything else?"
"No. Please, both of you have a wonderful sleep. Please forgive me for having you both worry and disturb your slumber."
Roselyn tucked you in a little bit, Zied finished the tea, "You know you never had to apologize to me," she said ensuring you were well and comfortable, "since day one. We are in this together. You never disturb me, my Lady. Now, sleep well."
With one final check, she stopped, gave you a smile, and left with Ziad. He turned off the light and shut the door, not before giving you a thumbs up and respectable nod.