Chapter 11
Thealina
The royal castle hums with activity as we all work to prepare for the shutdown of the castle and grounds. Once the King, his Chief Enforcer and Chief Defender leave for Eklin with the dead princess, there will only be a skeleton crew of staff keeping an eye on everything for a period of time.
And that is when I’ll grab what I need.
Or steal, if we’re being pedantic.
Various folk bustle along the decimated corridors, handling what tasks remain. Sweeping, dusting, restocking the inventory…
Though it’s hard to feel productive when you finish your tasks, only to glance around and still see so much mess and destruction.
Luckily, the Chief Defender has been in better spirits these last few days. Eerily better spirits. My opinion? He’s gone a little mad.
Only yesterday I noticed him stroking the air, so softly, so tenderly, like his princess was in front of him but for his eyes only. I’m glad he’s found a moment of reprieve from his grief, but I worry for when reality hits him again. Reality that the princess’s death is final this time.
And Captain Elwood, nor Major Zafar are here for us to alert when Major General Vale needs to be kept grounded.
“Thea. It’s your turn to say goodbye.”
I nod at Evelyn, another monarchy maid, who strolls by, moving on to her next task. I finish up wiping the dust off the sconces along the stone corridor and make my way to the chapel.
The King allowed staff to have a moment with Princess Zura before they take her body off for her burial. Zura knew me better in her previous life when she was sick. I’d help her mother, Queen Arabi, in the kitchen to make her her favourite meal—onion soup.
Sometimes I’d even take it to her bedroom if the Queen was needed elsewhere.
She always smiled at me despite her ill state.
It pained me to see her decline rapidly, especially when I noticed her growing stomach.
I’ll never forget the anguish behind the Chief Defender’s eyes every moment he looked at his mate, knowing he was helpless to stop it.
The castle walls hold a lot of tension and secrets, it’s palpable sometimes, and I find it odd we didn’t get to say goodbye to the Queen either. Both mother and daughter murdered by enemies of the crown in their own backyard.
Rumours in the service corridors say the Queen’s face and body was so horrifically mutilated she was unrecognisable, and the King wanted to spare anyone the sight.
The world is cruel. No, fate is cruel.
But fate won’t stop me from getting my voice back.
Fighting back the tickling cough scratching my throat as dust clings to the air, I enter the chapel, startled to find the strange woman from town leaning over the Princess, caressing her cheek with a tender hand of a mother. Her wild, raven hair scooped up into a loose updo on top of her head.
The chapel is empty bar us. Only two guards stationed outside the chapel archway. Most probably to keep an eye on the Chief Defender in all his madness.
“I saw more, Little Goddess, I feel you both,” she whispers. “Don’t be scared. Everything is how it’s supposed to be. And when you’re scared, you look inside yourself for that light. When his and her darkness grips you in fear, you run toward it, not away.”
Her whispered words are felt deep in my gut, but who is she to the Princess?
Intervening is not something I’m willing to do, not when she’s given me no reason not to trust she’s anything but a gentle soul.
But it raises more questions. Like what’s her race or class?
She knew things about me, knew what I needed.
She looks human. Maybe she’s a Seer, perhaps. Or a witch with a sensitive eye.
“When the rain comes, it’s time.”
Soft spoken words draw me from my mind, and I find the woman standing beside me, watching the Princess on the altar. My breaths turn ragged. Is she onto me? Does she know I plan on stealing the ancient, confiscated Taka from the vaults.
She could easily be setting me up. She could send me to my death with just a few spoken words, and I, voiceless, would be powerless to stop it.
“Shhh. Don’t succumb to the fear.”
My head whips in her direction, my hands instinctively pull out my book and quill I kept in the deep side pocket of my dress. If anyone became too inquisitive, I’d have told them my throat is sick.
‘Who are you?’
Her smile is gentle, her dark eyes twinkling beneath the candlelit chandelier.
“Just an old woman trying to pick up all her lost marbles.”
Comforting.
So crazy, then. She’s a crazy woman.
Why did I do that? How could I think such a dismissing thing.
I should know better, what with being labelled crazy and hysterical myself.
They would manipulate my thoughts, warp my mind into accepting I’d been the problem.
That I’d been the ‘crazy’ one for speaking up about something.
For expressing how something they’ve said or done has made me feel.
Do better, Thea.
‘Why are you here? For the Princess?’
“No,” she sighs. “It had to happen, you see.”
Lady, I have no clue what you’re talking about. I wish I could speak. But I don’t write that either.
“Someone else needed me.”
‘Your family? Son? Daughter?’
Why am I entertaining her? Why do I need to know this? I suppose knowledge is power, even if said knowledge is mundane.
“My son doesn’t need me. Not yet anyway. No, someone else needed me, though she doesn’t realise that yet.” She smiles again, and I can’t help noticing how beautiful she is, even with that half-moon scar on her cheek. She looks familiar, but I can’t place it.
With my lips pressed together, I nod once, moving to the altar to say my goodbyes and get back to my tasks before attempting to break into the vaults and steal back what belongs to my people.
My steps falter when my arm is yanked back. She isn’t aggressive, but she is firm in the grip curled around my wrist.
“When the rage manifests, don’t leave his side. No matter how much you want to run. Do not leave his side.”
Ok, lady. You can let go now.
“And please, please remember, there was no connection to you. The betrayal was not his intention. Don’t run from him.”
The last word barely left her mouth before she darts away, the candles flickering as she whips past and out the side door, leaving me to drown in the chaotic silence she created.
I’m to be betrayed? Or I have been betrayed?
The words coil tight in my gut, cold and sour. Who is my betrayer? If it’s my husband, then that isn’t a betrayal. His betrayal occurred a long time ago, anything now... well, that’s just routine.
Heavy footsteps echo as a shadow approaches the archway. I duck my head and step back as the Chief Defender makes his presence known.
His large form takes up room; his energy takes up the most.
Deciding to forgo my goodbye, I curtsey to the princess for a final time, nodding at Major General Vale as I leave him in peace with his love and hurry down the corridor to my next task, sucking in as much air as my lungs can fill now I’m out and away from the oppressive air of the chapel.
***
The rag in my hand grows darker and dirtier as sconces become cleaner.
They won’t be clean at all if I don’t change this cloth sometime soon.
Dirty water sloshes over the sides of the bucket when the musky smelling rag hits the surface.
I carry the weighty thing to the service kitchen and exchange it for a clean bucket and bundle of rags left on one of the counters.
Another maid takes my supplies from me, swiftly pouring out the contents ready to clean, fill with fresh soapy water and leave for the next person needing an exchange.
A lot of the Water powered folk have been stationed in the kitchens lately to keep a steady supply of clean water running through the castle.
And although my ability is time travel, if I were allowed to use it, my main source of power is Air—great for blowing dust and small pieces of rubble out the way, but of no use for my swollen and achy feet.
Said swollen and achy feet now trod back up the echoing stairway and out into the corridor of the main floor of the castle.
“Thea! You look exhausted,” Evelyn taps into her Earth power, using a vine from between a crack in the castle wall to hold the bucket in my hand.
I groan at the relief of not holding that weight anymore.
She rests both hands on her hips, head tilted to the side waiting for my response.
“They left a while ago, why are you still here? You’re sick, you must go home to bed. ”
Because, dear, sweet Evelyn, I plan on stealing something from the King and my thieving window hasn’t opened yet. Namely because the guards you stationed at the top of the stairwell leading to the vaults are having themselves an interesting, though long, game of cards.
How inconsiderate…
I take out my quill.
‘My throat’s better. Less tight. I’ll be ok. And doing more today means less tomorrow.’
“Oh, sweet girl, you honestly think all this rubble and dust will dramatically decrease overnight,” she sighs, and although Evelyn is older than me by about fifty years, her use of the word ‘sweet girl’ irks me. It’s too similar to Sweetpea. But she’s a sweet lady, so I’ll overlook it.
‘I’m avoiding my husband.’
She barks out a laugh. Sometimes it’s easier to hide traitorous intentions behind some truth.
“In that case, go take a bed in one of the guest bedrooms,” she chuckles, her greying hair falling loose from her long braid. “I’ve lost count how many times I claimed to have a night shift just to avoid my husband’s wandering hands.” She snickers some more before taking her leave.
Leaning against the wall, I stretch out my neck, not caring for the dirt no doubt covering the back of my dress. The silence is welcoming, relaxing and I take a moment to rest my eyes before moving…
“RAIN!”
Loud voices from all directions stream in all at once.
“To the front.”
“COVER THE HOLES!”