Chapter 6 #3
The windows look even bigger now, and her task absolutely impossible. “Are you allowed to get more cleaning supplies, tools? Even if we need to keep going like this, I’ll need my own cloths.”
She nods. “You can go to the supply room.” Her tone is still so sad, so hopeless.
I realize that’s why she was sitting on the floor and crying when I came in; she had given up before trying.
She’s not even considering a solution, and I need to shake that despair out of her.
“Take me there. Rosalia told you to guide me, right? So that’s what you’ll do. And we’ll find something more appropriate, bigger, and then we’ll go faster. We will finish cleaning these windows today, and let’s not even consider any alternative, all right?”
“All right,” she says slowly, her tone cautious and still despondent.
I don’t think she believes we’ll get those windows cleaned on time. But I do. Perhaps focusing on a small goal is the distraction I need to fight off my numbness and shock.
Then I’ll come up with a solution for me. I won’t cry and give up, no. That’s never the answer.
The nearest supply room is a few floors down, so we descend narrow, dark stairs lit by faint lumos jars.
The place is tucked away in a corner at the end of a cramped corridor, a small room where a gray-haired man stands behind a wooden counter. At least his smile is pleasant. I ask for larger cloths and long brooms. The man writes down what we are borrowing in a book, and Celine signs it.
Once we get everything, we rush back up the stairs to that ballroom.
Then we get to work quickly. I tie the cloths around the brooms, and since Celine can only use one arm, she wipes the bottoms of the windows while I climb the ladder and clean the tops.
Sure, I’m doing more than her, but it’s fair because she’s hurt.
Even then, I keep an eye on the sandglass, and as I watch the grains fall, my confidence falters, until I remind myself that I’m getting better and faster.
It’s satisfying to wipe the glass with the broom to fully reveal its colorful shapes.
Some of them are drawings of a large, golden dragon—Auranius—but there's also a man and a family, who I think are the first king of Dracolius and his household.
Some mosaics depict attacking dragons, breathing fire and destruction on our land.
I wish I could see the sunlight peering through them, lighting up the hall in a multitude of colors, but large windows are dangerous in a land attacked by enemies who can fly.
When there’s very little sand in the top part of the hourglass and one window still to be cleaned, a messenger walks in. “Everyone’s expected at the Sky Guard auditorium right now.”
Celine’s face pales. “But I need to finish.”
The messenger blinks, unmoved. “Failure to comply with the king’s summons will result in heavy penalties. Return your supplies and head to the auditorium. No time to change, so you’ll use the servants’ entrance.”
He turns around and leaves. Celine glances at the remaining dusty window, her eyes wide, her hands trembling.
“Perhaps we could hurry,” I suggest.
She shakes her head. “No. We’d better go.”
“I’m not giving up.” As fast as I can, I finish the current window, then go to the final one and wipe the cloth a few times.
I jump down the ladder and wink at Celine. “They said clean, right? Not perfectly clean.”
We grab the brooms, buckets, and cloths and rush to the supply room, where we return everything. After that, we descend more and more stairs. She’s still rattled, though.
I turn to her. “You think they might expel you? But we finished.”
“With the king summoning everyone… I hope they won’t mind.” She gives me a tight smile, still looking worried.
Perhaps that’s how she usually looks, and I’m reading too much into her expression.
I consider then that I have never seen our king, and don’t even know what he looks like, as he hasn’t made a public appearance since I came to Dracolius City.
“Does he usually do that?” I ask. “Call everyone in the academy?”
“I don’t think so. It’s the first time since I became a recruit.”
“You think it’s something bad?” I can’t imagine what it would be. If it was an attack, we’d be hearing bells.
She pauses, her face pensive. “War, maybe. They would send most of us.”
“To the Kingdom of the Riders?”
“I think so.”
I recall sailing away from the swarm of dragons and can’t imagine we’d ever be successful on the other side of the wall. “How?”
“I don’t know. We wouldn’t glide or sail there, so I’m assuming foot troops.”
That would be a suicide mission, unless… “Would Auranius help?”
“Maybe. It’s not something we prepared for or informed. We were just told that it could be a possibility.”
“If you were expelled, would you be spared?”
She looks down with the same despondent expression she had when I first saw her. “I don’t have much to go back to. I prefer it here.”
“Hopefully it will be fine.”
She nods, her lips tight. For my part, as much as I’m worried for Celine and anxious about the news we’re about to receive, I’m also excited. I never imagined I would see the king.
Then I remember I’m a cleaning lady who might never truly belong to the Sky Academy, and my brief excitement wanes. But some of it remains. I’d never get to see the king while burrowed in the kitchen of the Grease & Spice.
We come to a large atrium leading to golden doors, but a guard sees us and gestures to a narrow staircase, which we climb. It leads to a hall lined with doors with signs saying guards, housekeeping, staff, and, finally, cleaning crew.
We enter through that last door and come to a balcony overlooking the auditorium, with a metal grate either to protect us or to prevent us from throwing things.
A few people in gray uniforms stand before us, but the floor is slanted, so that I can look downstairs and see an aisle surrounded by long benches with Sky Academy officers and sentinels, followed by recruits.
A dais stands at the front, with three large chairs, all empty, protected by a line of guards separating it from the audience, and two guards on each side.
A door behind the chairs must be the one through which the king will enter.
Anxious murmurs buzz through the auditorium, mostly incomprehensible, but I catch a few words: war, heir, Auranius, sick, dead, princess.
Almost everyone’s expecting bad news.
The queen passed away two years ago, and perhaps that was the last time the king came in person for an audience. He has two daughters, and it could be something with one of them, but would he come in person to deliver such dreadful news?
The eggs come to mind. Alayel said they could make all the difference. Could it be that the king is going to celebrate this victory? I walk to the front, to the edge of the balcony, and look down, trying to find Alayel, but can’t see him in that multitude. Celine catches up with me.
“Looking for someone?”
“A friend,” I say, hoping she won’t ask any more questions.
She points to a group of people sitting near the back of the room. “Those are the second years.”