BELLRAM V02 - Ambivalence of Light and Shadow II

BP003-P01 - Marionette 1

Meiandra Arvis was sitting on a bench in the carriage. The masked woman had almost stuffed her inside. She hadn't given her a reason. What she had done was pull open the door and signal to her with her chin that she had better get in immediately. In support of this friendly gesture, she had grabbed her upper arm to help her get in faster. She had jostled her until she was sitting on the bench, then she had pulled the hood off her head and that was all. Meia's seat was on the right in the direction of travel, close to the door. At the moment, the carriage was at a halt. Meia could still feel the woman's gentle grip. Why was she so aggressive?

At least in one respect, the carriage was an improvement. The upholstery on the bench was very comfortable. In contrast to the plain exterior of the carriage, the interior was quite presentable. The upholstered benches were made of black leather with a high backrest and headrest and even an armrest facing the door. The walls were covered with red fabric and embroidered with elaborate symbols. The threads were covered in gold. It was a work of art. Heavy curtains made of red fabric hung from thick gold-alloy rods. A lamp dangled from the ceiling with intricate glittering decorations and fake candles made of crystafei. It was a precious piece, like a baby chandelier. The light was soothingly warm and was swallowed up by the many fabrics. Almost nothing could be heard from outside. Only the faint pattering of the rain on the window and a constant murmur made it through the curtains to her ear. The noise was probably the river from the bridge that Violet had mentioned earlier. The carriage felt like this, like a shelter from a storm. It would be so nice to just lay her head against the window, let her eyes fall shut and sleep, but unfortunately here as well there was something that denied her that sweet sleep - the other occupants of the carriage.

Four eyes examined Meia. One pair belonged to a man sitting to her left. He was very tall. Meia felt like a child next to him on the bank. He was advanced in age and radiated experience. He had a stoic face and a friendly expression, but he looked like he was struggling to keep that expression. It was the kind of face someone would make when they were in a good mood for a long time, until someone they didn't want to be outwardly angry with spoiled it. Normally, Meia would say she was going out on a limb with this interpretation, but it was likely that she had caused his mood to plummet with her intrusion.

The man's clothes were elegant but looked incredibly uncomfortable. Most of it was made of smooth black fabric and he even wore a close-fitting scarf with a red brooch. This outfit was a robe from a judge of the supreme court. Did he have to wear such clothes now because of his position? Meia could ask herself that, because she knew the man by sight, by rank and by name. The man was Albert Schoppe, the Minister of Justice. He was one of only four ministers who, together with a representative of the faith, decided everything in the country, at least as long as the king did not oppose them. If Meia were sitting here alone with him, she would already be intimidated, but far worse was the person sitting opposite of her - the woman with the blue eyes whose gaze had Meia nailed to the bench like a throwing knives. It was Meia's mistress, the queen, Erika Brandt Von Rosenberg.

The queen was still quite young for a queen, but appeared mature and exalted. She was 25 years old. She was a brunette with a moderately elaborate hairstyle. Her dress was somewhere between striking and understated. While it was simple and plain, it was also a ball gown and the color was a strong red.

Meia wouldn't call the queen a picture-book beauty, but she was undoubtedly beautiful, only that her beauty was more realistic. She looked like the most beautiful woman of a village; like a person you could actually know. In contrast, Violet seemed like the most beautiful woman in the world and completely unreachable. Despite this, or perhaps because of it, the queen had a presence that commanded respect. A goddess had goodness, but she certainly didn't. She looked like someone who would hit you yourself if you made a mistake.

The atmosphere in the carriage was very unpleasant. It wasn't necessarily because of Meia's lack of social skills, and probably not even because she had apparently interrupted a personal conversation between the two of them with her intrusion. The woman in the mask was to blame. While she had loaded Meia into the carriage like a piece of luggage that didn't belong to her, the queen had asked her several questions, but she hadn't answered a single one. She had simply slammed the door shut. She had ignored them coldly. Meia had enough knowledge to know that the masked woman would soon miss more than just an arm. What kind of queen would let herself be treated like that? None at all. Whenever a queen was treated badly somewhere, a head would end up in the basket and if Meia was unlucky, her head would end up in the same basket. That was common knowledge.

The queen had been looking at Meia for a minute. Why didn't she say anything? Should Meia speak herself? However, it would be impolite to speak uninvited. Meia would have liked to jump out of the carriage immediately. But instead she kept quiet and tried to avoid direct eye contact, which proved difficult in the cramped carriage. Minister Schoppe was on the left. In the middle was the queen. On the right, the curtains were closed.

Meia mainly opted for the curtains and pretended not to be present. That way, the queen would hopefully get back to her conversation in a moment. To be on the safe side, she nevertheless thought about a conversation plan in case of an emergency. She would briefly introduce herself. Perhaps she would have to answer a few more questions, then the queen would accept her presence and she could continue to remain silent and eavesdrop. But why didn't she continue her conversation and didn't ask anything either? She just stared. Her gaze was razor-sharp and staring was like twisting the knives in the wound. Perhaps it was better if Meia acted as if it was completely normal for her to be here?

On the side, Meia had been noticing a fragrance for some time. It came from Minister Schoppe. He was clean-shaven too. Both of their clothes were clean and dry. Did everyone here have access to a secret bathroom that she hadn't been told about? Was she really the only one who looked and smelled as if she had just been pulled out of the gutter?

In the wake of this realization, Meia plucked up her courage and dared to move. First she slid closer to the window, then she combed her wet hair back with both hands and put her red headband back on. The moment her palms covered her face, she dared to glance inconspicuously at the queen.

Drooping corners of the mouth. Wrinkled nose. The dissatisfaction was clear to see.

~Yep. This is the end.~

.../ End Part