Summary
Sefa assesses the queen as she adjusts to her new home and role in Camelot.
Chapter 18 Songs Only Two Can Hear
Sefa gently placed a ceramic vase filled with fresh water on the table, her eyes flicking to Queen Guinevere, who stood nearby sorting through a bouquet of fragrant lavender, delicate baby's breath, and vibrant wildflowers with deliberate attention. Turning her focus to an elegant tapestry, Sefa grasped one side and gave it a gentle shake, releasing a few dust particles that danced in the air before settling on her face. With practiced ease, she then brushed her fingers along the intricate weave, ensuring it hung just so while the queen carefully arranged the blossoms in the vase, thoughtfully positioning each one.
Shifting to the other side of the tapestry, Sefa repeated the process, gently shaking it before smoothing it out. The royal chambers were far grander than any room she had ever worked in, with lofty ceilings, rich tapestries, and polished furniture that gleamed in the warm light. Though the king and queen had separate chambers elsewhere, they were rarely used in preference to this shared space – these rooms where councils with knights and Master Merlin took place, and where sometimes she and George were not permitted to serve.
She glided to the next tapestry and carefully shook loosen any dust from the elegant threads and then brushed her hand along the antique fabric. As she worked, she couldn't help but steal another glance at her mistress. Having witnessed Her Majesty's shift from optimism and joy to this veiled sorrow, Sefa now glimpsed a burden testing the queen's graceful shoulders. Even the miraculous revival of the harvest just yesterday, which had brought relief and celebration throughout the kingdom, seemed unable to fully banish the melancholy that clung to Queen Guinevere in the privacy of the royal chambers.
"These are lovely, Sefa," the queen said, her voice smooth and melodic, yet lacking the usual sparkle that lit her eyes. She leaned in, inhaling the delicate scent of the fresh lavender, a hint of a smile ghosting her lips. "Where did you find them?"
"In the meadow near the lower town, my queen," Sefa replied, her cheeks warming at the praise as her hand smoothed out the elaborate pattern of the tapestry, the fabric soft beneath her fingertips. "I hoped they would lift your spirits."
"How kind. Thank you," Queen Guinevere said quietly as she gently caressed a delicate lavender blossom, her fingertips grazing the tiny, fragrant petals. "Flowers have a way of lifting the heart, even in the darkest of times."
The queen's expression turned inward, a distant look in her eyes as if she were lost in a memory. Sefa somehow sensed that the simple flowers, despite their beauty and fragrance, would not be enough to ward off the gloom that seemed to envelop her mistress like a shroud.
After only a fleeting moment, Queen Guinevere turned her discerning gaze upon Sefa, her eyes seeming to probe the depths of her soul. Sefa shifted uncomfortably under the intense scrutiny, her nervous titters spiking as she moved to the last tapestry, focusing intently on the colorfully woven pattern. Her fingers traced the delicate threads, the rough texture on this one grounding her.
"How are you and your father adjusting to life in Camelot?" Her Majesty asked, her voice gentle, and tinged with a hint of concern.
"Very well, my lady, thank you." She kept her eyes downcast as she moved to the window seat, her skirts swishing faintly against the polished floor. Her hands deftly rearranged the plush pillows, the rich fabric cool and smooth against her palms, the delicate embroidery beneath her fingertips.
Despite her unease, Sefa admired Queen Guinevere's kind spirit and gentle nature, so remarkable a woman to have risen from servant to sovereign. Even so, unchanged by status, a thoughtfulness and acceptance seemed to emanate from both royals as they sought to ease her edginess in their company, their compassion permeating the very air of the room.
She supposed she must seem a timid mouse in the presence of the queen, who had been raised amidst the grandeur of the castle and had acquired a regal bearing through years of observation and practice. Sefa's hands trembled slightly as she smoothed the soft fabric of the pillows, wondering if Queen Guinevere had reservations about entrusting her service to someone so meek.
Despite her doubts, Sefa held onto the belief that with time and dedication, she might prove herself worthy of this honor, even if she lacked the talent or strength expected of a powerful sorcerer's daughter. Her father, Ruadan, inspired reverence and respect among druids not only for his magical and medicinal gifts but also for his unrivaled skill in combat. Ruadan's mere presence filled any space with an intense, palpable energy that demanded attention. In contrast, Sefa possessed neither his abilities, his commanding demeanor, nor his unwavering self-assurance.
But under her father's guidance, Sefa had studied the healing arts, skillfully crafting poultices and tinctures from fragrant herbs and exotic ingredients. Despite her proficiency in the practical applications of her craft, she lacked any great mystical aptitude beyond the most rudimentary spells. However, she had proven herself competent in managing households in the nearby province of Powys, her diligence and attention to detail evident in her mending, laundering, and handling of domestic duties.
Still, she was eclipsed by her father's legend as a prominent healer and warrior, a nagging belief that she disappointed expectations for their bloodline. In moments of uncertainty, however, she found solace in the customs that had been a part of her life since childhood – chanting under starry skies, gathering sacred herbs in the misty dawn, and seeking guidance through divination from fire and runes. These remnants of home acted as an anchor, stabilizing her while she navigated the unfamiliar newness of life in Camelot. For now, Sefa focused on keeping her head down, her burning cheeks hidden from view, and allowing her work to speak on her behalf, silently displaying her dedication and worth.
Queen Guinevere's gentle touch on her arm drew Sefa's gaze, the warmth of her fingers seeping through the fabric of Sefa's sleeve. "We're grateful to have you both here," the queen said, her voice tender and sincere. "I know it's not easy being in unfamiliar surroundings." She paused, her eyes searching Sefa's face, as if seeing beyond the surface and into the depths of her soul. "And I can see in you untapped gifts, Sefa, even if you cannot yet see them in yourself."
A tentative smile formed on Sefa's face, the queen's words igniting a flicker of hope in her heart. "You and the king have been so kind. I..." Her voice faltered, trailing off into silence as she lowered her gaze once more. Her eyes traced the graceful curves and swirls woven into the rug beneath their feet, the sumptuous design a momentary distraction from her own thoughts.
Queen Guinevere's fingers, delicate and cool, gently lifted Sefa's chin, guiding her to meet the queen's gaze. "Sefa, if you keep doing that," she said, her tone gentle yet firm, "you're not going to see where you're headed." The queen's eyes crinkled at the corners, a warm smile softening her features. "Be at ease," she urged, her words like a gentle breeze, calming Sefa's frayed nerves.
Sefa's lips curved into a small smile as she felt the tension in her shoulders ease, the queen's reassuring presence a soothing balm to her. "Forgive me, Queen Guinevere, but my trials are nothing compared to all you must bear. I have nothing to complain about," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, afraid to inconvenience the queen with her own troubles.
Queen Guinevere's hands clasped Sefa's, guiding her to sit beside her on the window seat. The plush cushions yielded beneath them, the rich fabric brushing against Sefa's skirts as she settled into place. "Please, feel free to speak your mind," the queen encouraged, her voice gentle yet sincere. "Just as you hold the confidential information you are privy to with discretion, you can trust that whatever we discuss will remain between us."
"Thank you, my queen." Sefa's words were filled with gratitude as she took a deep breath, the scent of lavender still lingering in the air. Despite the queen's reassurance, Sefa couldn't stop her hands from wringing, her fingers twisting anxiously in her lap. "I miss Powys sometimes," she confessed, her eyes taking on a distant, wistful look. "The rivers and flowing tall grass, hearing the wind whisper through trees. I could see the White Mountains from home, every day, and feel…a harmony, a sense of belonging. Camelot is just so..."
"Overwhelming? Crowded?" Queen Guinevere supplied, her own gaze drifting away, the melancholy that had been lurking beneath the surface rising once more. "It can be challenging, adapting to a new life, especially when you're far from those you love. I understand the longing for familiarity, for the comfort of home and family."
Sefa nodded, her voice barely audible as she whispered, "Yes."
Queen Guinevere's hand squeezed Sefa's after a moment of shared silence. "I understand," she said, her voice soothing and empathetic. "But as difficult as change can be, it also brings opportunities for growth and new beginnings. In time, you may find that Camelot has its own unique beauty, even if it's different from what you've known."
A blush crept across Sefa's cheeks as a hint of a smile tugged at her lips. "I know it will," she replied, her voice hushed and tinged with newfound optimism. Her thoughts drifted to the young man she'd met in the last days of the tourneys, a gems and jeweler merchant from Eofham who had been bartering for wares in Camelot. He had caught her eye, his smile charming yet sincere, and she relished the flutter in her heart at the memory of their sweet first encounter. A pleasant sensation spread through her body, her skin tingling at the thought as she smiled to herself, lost in the recollection.
"Who is he?" Queen Guinevere asked, a knowing smile gracing her lips, the tenderness in her expression seeming to chase away the gloom that had draped over her earlier. Her eyes glistened with genuine interest as she awaited the secrets of Sefa's heart.
The queen's curiosity seemed a welcomed respite, a chance for Her Majesty to set aside the cares she carried and to revel in the innocent joys of new connections and romance. A rush of gratitude for the queen's interest swept through her, her nerves calming as she realized that, despite their differences in status and the challenges they faced, they could still find common ground in the simple pleasures of life. It was a reminder that, beneath the regal bearing and the mantle of responsibility, Queen Guinevere was still a woman who could find delight in the happiness of others.
A laugh then bubbled up from Sefa's chest as she began, her voice tentative at first but growing more confident with each word. "Do you remember the day I retrieved your brooch from the jeweler?" she asked, a smile in her voice as the memory filled her with warmth. "Our paths crossed for several days, most times near the well, but that was the day we spoke..."
As Sefa recounted her story, she felt a familiar heat rising in her cheeks, excitement and bashfulness always accompanying her thoughts of the young man, Master Derrick Andronicus of Eofham. Her words painted a picture of their serendipitous glances over the course of a few days, culminating in their actual meeting and the undeniable connection sparking between them. The sensations coursing through her now served as a constant reminder of the profound effect he had on her heart.
Sefa found herself laughing more freely as she shared the details of their encounter, her heart fluttering with each memory. She glanced at Queen Guinevere and noticed the genuine interest and encouragement in her expression, which only fueled Sefa's enthusiasm. The queen's attentiveness made her feel heard and validated, a rare and precious gift for her.
Sefa felt the queen's hand gently squeeze her arm in a gesture of understanding and support as her story drew to a close. In that touch, she sensed a silent bond forming between them, a recognition of the power of love to light even the darkest of paths and to bring comfort in the most uncertain of times.
In that moment, Sefa felt as though she and Queen Guinevere were no longer servant and mistress, but rather two kindred spirits sharing in the universal experience of love's first blush. The troubles that had burdened them both seemed to fade, if only for a brief time, as they lost themselves in the simple pleasure of a budding romance and the hope it represented.