Queen Delina of Pridonia pulled her brush through her long, raven
hair. She wanted to pull all the knots from the nights sleep out of her locks
before her maid arrived to help her dress. Abella was a capable servant and the
love she had for her mistress had no bounds, but the woman did not have the gentlest
hand when it came to applying the hairbrush. Delina sat on the low stool in front
of her dressing table and pulled the ends of her hair forward to pull the brush
all the way through. When she finished, she allowed the tresses to fall loosely.
The ends of her hair brushed the floor, but she wasn’t worried about getting
dust or dirt in it since Abella always made sure her chambers were spotless.
A row of bottles lined up in perfect order
sparkled as a beam of light made its way through the opening in the tapestries
covering the windows. Delina picked up the hand-blown, blue decanter and
released the stopper. The bitter smell of the potion assaulted her nostrils as
she poured a small measure into a glass. Taking a deep breath, she steeled
herself for the taste. One quick swallow and it was gone. Shuddering at the
taste, Delina put the glass on the tray near the edge of her dressing table.
She held the decanter to the light to check the level of the potion and noted it
was nearly empty. Tomorrow was potion making day so she knew she would need to
go through her herb supply today to make sure she had what she needed.
Placing the decanter back in its proper
place, she picked up the next jar. Her morning ritual never changed. Although she
had survived the plague spell that had taken the lives of her parents and
nearly a third of the population of Pridonia, she would be living with the aftereffects
of the spell for the rest of her life. The pain in her joints would always plague
her and she would carry the scars on her body for the rest of her life.
It was fortunate the plague scars barely
touched her face. Delina worked the ointment in her jar into the deep scar on her
jawline and the other on her forehead and then smoothed a thin layer of cream
over her entire face. The salve helped ease the redness of the scars, but her
skin would never be the smooth alabaster white of her childhood.
The double wooden doors of her chambers swung
open and Abella marched in the room, followed by the three ladies in waiting who
were assigned to Delina. Marith and Delira had barely entered their fourteenth year
and were not quite ready for the duties assigned to ladies of the realm, but
many of the more experienced ladies had perished during the war and Delina had
few options when appointing the mistresses of the chamber. Many of the more
experienced ladies who had served her mother had been assigned to care and
teach the children who had been left orphaned and without teachers due to the
death plagues. Salissa had been a lady in waiting to Delina’s mother and when
Delina had been appointed Queen after the death of her parents she refused to
leave her post. Both Salissa and Adina had helped Delina transition from Princess
of the Realm to Queen Sorceress.
The title was still fresh and new. Her parents
had only been dead for six months. The plague had been released by the Natherian’s
when they realized they were losing the war. It was a final effort to destroy
the people of the land and take over the kingdom. The plague had taken the life
of her mother, father and both of her brothers, one older and one younger.
Delina knew if she would have died the King of Natheria would have been sitting
on the throne of her kingdom. Sometimes she wondered if it was the knowledge of
the harm King Jeahan would cause her people that kept her alive through the
pain of the plague.
Abella and the other ladies approached Delina
as she rose from her stool. Marith placed the large tray she was carrying on the
table near the window before taking her place in line. The four ladies dropped
into a curtsy as their morning, “My Queen,” echoed in unison. It was the only acquisition
Delina would allow to her status. Once the morning ritual was complete the
ladies attended to their duties.
Marith and Delira began stripping the
bedding off the bed while Salissa gathered clothing from the wardrobe. Delina
returned to her stool to allow Abella to attend her hair.
“Your Majesty,” Abella said as she worked
Delina’s dark tresses into an elaborate braid. “Are you going to have time to
visit the training academy today? We need to prepare for the foreign dignitaries’
arrival and Duke Kaltra has requested an appointment with you.”
Delina stifled a sigh. “Duke Kaltra requests
an appointment with me every day. Tell him the same thing we always say. ‘Make
an appointment with my secretary.’ I will meet with Balith this afternoon to
ensure the preparations are in place for our guests. And, yes, I will be visiting
the training academy today. I have yet to find an apprentice worthy of being my
heir and I need to be able to test the students every month. I need to name my
heir soon. We can not risk another invasion from Natheria. The only way to ensure
the safety of our kingdom is to have a strong Sorcerer on the throne.”
“I’m sure Kaltra wants to talk about your
heir and the regency,” Abella said as she worked combs into Delina’s hair to
keep it in place. “He has made it clear he desires to be your husband and wants
the care of any child you choose as heir.”
It took enormous restraint for Delina to
remain seated as Abella tugged and pulled her hair into place. The thought of
marrying Kaltra, Duke of Ecathra sent her stomach into flurries. The man was
repulsive. He rarely bathed and his skin and breath reeked of sour milk. Although
he was a powerful wizard in his own rights, he lacked the patience necessary to
train young children in the magical arts. He was a fair and kind man and ruled
his dutchy well, but he would never do as a regent to a young ruler.
Abella placed the last comb and Delina stood
to allow the women to dress her. The ladies carefully pulled her dark, sapphire
colored dress over her head and adjusted the laces to strap her into it. Although
she had graduated from the pale hues of her childhood into the deep, rich
colors of adulthood, Delina still insisted on wearing simply cut dresses over
her shifts. Wearing layers of satin and lace crafted by servants who could be
working on ensuring the production of food, clothing and shelter of her subjects
just didn’t feel right. She knew her people must always come first before her own
desires. It was one of the many lessons she learned about ruling a kingdom. From
the time she could remember she sat beside her brothers at lessons and when she
turned twelve her father insisted she sit in council meetings and learn to
manage the kingdom.
Marith and Delira knelt on the floor and
worked on the ribbons sewn into her skirt to bustle the extra length and keep
the cloth from dragging the ground while Delina went about her duties. The two
girls worked quickly, gathering bits of cloth into ruffles to hide where it was
tied. Marith kept her head bowed and worked in absolute silence, her fingers
trembling slightly as she gathered the cloth. Delina reached down and touched
the soft curls on the top of the girls head and brushed the short hair back
from her face. Marith paused in her work and looked up at her queen.
“My queen?” The girl’s voice had a slight
questioning sound. Delina studied the delicate features of the young girl so
heavily scarred by plague marks.
“Are the joints in your fingers hurting today?”
Delina asked?
Marith’s eyes sparkled with tears as she twisted
her fingers together. “Your highness, it is not so much. I can still perform my
duties.”
“Child, we have talked about this.” Although
Delina was only a few years older than her servant, she had developed the habit
of calling those younger than her child from working with the apprentices in
the training academy. Marith had been an apprentice before the plague and would
have still been at the academy if she hadn’t been so badly debilitated by the disease.
“You are not obligated to serve me if it causes you pain. I will find you other
duties.”
“My queen, you saved my life.” Tears had
escaped Marith’s eyes and were rolling down her cheeks. “I can never repay you
for the medicines and care you gave me. I can not fail you by shirking my
duties as your lady in waiting.”
Salissa moved
across the room from where she was setting up Delina’s breakfast from the tray.
The older woman wrapped her arms around the girl and gently brushed her short,
dark curls away from her face.
“Child, there are so many ways to serve,” Salissa
gently brushed the tears from Marith’s cheeks. “Here, you sit at the table and
read to us as our Queen breakfast. You must rest your hands.”
Delina moved
to the table by the window as Abella opened the drapery, flooding the chamber
with light. She ate her breakfast of cheese, bread and apples as Salissa opened
a book of poetry. The other ladies scurried around the room finishing the daily
chores. Marith’s sweet, clear voice quivered for a moment as she read, but soon
the tears cleared, and the natural rhythm of the poetry steadied her voice.
Delina
lingered over her meal enjoying the sound of Marith’s voice. Finally, she decided
she couldn’t delay the duties of the day any longer. She set her plate aside
and signaled to her ladies.
“It is time
to attend to our duties.”
Marith placed
the book of poetry on the table and stood. Delina reached for her cane. The smooth
polished wood shone in the brilliant sunlight. She used the edge of the table
to stand and steadied herself as a sharp pain flashed through her knees. Salissa
moved to her right side and offered her arm. Delina placed her hand on the
older woman’s arm and leaned into her strength. It was going to be a trying day
and she was sure tomorrow would be spent in bed, if her schedule would allow.
