Lords, Ladies, and Honored Guests

42 3 57
                                    

Taldren leaned a shoulder against the large window of his bedchamber, Havenhelm sprawled out below. He'd already dressed in the black boots that were too tall, the purple pants that were too tight, a white shirt that was too bright, pinched underneath a burgundy vest that made it hard to breathe. The dread siphon swung from his belt. A royal blue cloak hung waiting on the rack by the door. 

A servant, younger than Taldren by a year at least, brushed make-up over the bruises on his face from yesterdays accident. Her chestnut hair was tied in a tight bun, and she wore a plain beige frock. She pulled her eyebrows together in focus.

"Esteemed lords, fair ladies, and honored guests. I beseech you, lend me your ear." Taldren recited disgustedly. "Don't you think it all seems too grand?"

The girl didn't respond, so Taldren pulled his face away from her brush. "Cotton in your ears?"

Her grey eyes widened with fret, "No Sire, I uhm- I didn't realize...there is little too grand for a great lord of Havenhelm." She returned to masking the purple on his chin.

"A great lord of Havenhelm." Taldrem echoed, "Do I seem like that to you?"

She applied the finishing strokes to his face and stepped back, taking him in from head to toe. "You do." 

"Good then, the silk and cologne have consumed me completely, and I am lost." He walked past her, to the door where he donned his shimmering velvet cloak. "Give me your name." 

"Servants aren't usually asked their names, you would address one so beneath you as maid or miss." She stacked dishes and collected the tray from his breakfast.

A hundred complaints piled up behind his incredulous look, when there was a knock at the door. Hadlynn was there, bright eyed and every bit as princessy as ever. From the jeweled circlet on her head, to the cascading golden hair, to- "Is that Kendreths?" Taldren narrowed his eyes at the red squire shirt that fit over her breeches like a short dress.

The faint colouring of her face answered him, while she deflected. "The others are ready for us. Shall we?"

"Thank you miss." Taldren conceded to the servant girl, who saw him off with a curtsey.

Hadlynn lead Taldren past the guards and through the halls of her lavish castle home, and down into the corridors below. Many worked at clearing rubble and repairing the areas that had collapsed. 

Weldren stood posted outside one room that still stood intact, with a greatsword across his back and a large shield in his hand, with the head of a lion emblazoned onto it. He opened the door and uttered a gruff "Highness" as Hadlynn and Taldren passed.

Nihar worked in this space, sweat beaded on her forehead. She was battered and bruised, bits of dried blue blood marked the lighter blue skin where she had been injured. Her brow, the bridge of her nose, even her hands and fingers were cut and battered. She wore a ring on her thumb. The gems on the knuckles of her glove glowed and brought tools with similar purple stones from across the room into her waiting grasp. She toiled over a handheld silver mirror, it had no glass but the metal was polished so bright that one could see their reflection.

She handed the mirror to Taldren, as she spoke to the princess. "It has been completed to your most minute specification, Lady Seradine."

Taldren smiled at the reflection of his clean shaven face. His head of dark hair slicked to the side, not one out of place. Only the dark circles beneath his eyes betrayed the truth.

The image of him faded from the metalic surface, and in its place was a thin young girl sitting underwater. Counting beads and humming. There was the dampened sound of a sad melody. He could feel that she had been there for a long time, the gills on either side of her neck opened and closed rhythmically.

Illara Chronicles: SwordplayWhere stories live. Discover now