Over the next month I learn the term ‘guest’ differs in meaning on Glacium. The Bruma do not spit on me anymore, but I feel their hostility constantly. After an attack from a Bruma man as I walked to my room one evening, I was given a second guard. Life here is a far cry from my life before, where I never had any guards at all. Only people spying on me.
One of my delegates would always collect me for meals. The members of court were less likely to try and trip and push me when they were by me. I try to remind myself of the attitudes of Solati towards Bruma when my patience levels are low, and I want to punch the Bruma right between their eyes.
My arm is now yellow and much less swollen and it is confined by a new splint Adnan fashioned for me. I had been happy to get rid of the sling a week ago.
The Bruma were not all this way. I had met the wives of some of the delegates now. Fiona, Sanjay’s wife, was kind. She had been the one to leave fresh clothes in my room and Sadra, Malir’s wife, reminded me of the matron from the orphanage.
The food hall was also the perfect place to spy on the King. So far he had received one message by hawk, though I had no idea of the contents. The hawk had been beautiful; snow white with the biggest wings I had ever seen. When it had taken off, I had felt the power of them from my seat. I suppose it would need powerful wings to fly through all this snow and rain. Adnan explains they have some extra eyelid which protects their eyes, but still allows them to see. The hawk had risen to the ceiling and disappeared through some exit not visible from our table.
The King’s posture had become rigid as he read the message, which I didn’t take as a good sign. I was relieved, though, when I did not receive word I was to return home. So far I had not had any luck with finding the assassin. I needed more time.
I open the heavy door at the front of the castle. I had pretty much been allowed free reign of the castle, though I was told I was not allowed out of the gates.
I make my way down the massive steps into the courtyard, huddling to keep warm, but making sure to keep one hand on the wall as Malir told me to do so I don’t get lost in the blizzard. The white powder of the disturbed snow flies around us, penetrating even the thick fur of my coat. I will never get used to the cold here. Most of the time I feel like my bones themselves are frozen. I only come outside for one thing. To see Rhone’s dogs.
When Rhone is not away doing business for the King on the sleds, the dogs are kept here or in the kennels. There is a whining noise as I approach. I bend down to Leo, giggling as he raises one ear and tilts his head to the side. I reach out my good hand towards him. He sniffs at my hand and then licks it. I scratch him behind the ears where Rhone has taught me to, laughing as he moves his head side to side when he gets enough in the first spot.
I start as Rhone crouches down beside me, I had not heard his approach over the howling wind. He scratches Leo’s chest, not speaking.
“Are you taking the sled anywhere today?” I ask in a loud voice over the howling wind.
“No, too dangerous,” he says. “Not much to do until the King’s tour.”
I have learnt the dogs are one of the only topics Rhone will offer more than one syllable answers on. He spends much of his time on the sled transferring important people and various communication. I think it must be quite a lonely job.
Rhone was different than the others.
I had always noted it, but it had been even more noticeable since we had arrived on Glacium. Where the Castle Bruma would only slightly ease their bullying when I walked with the other delegates, no one even attempted to touch me when I was with Rhone. I wondered what he had done to earn this fearful respect.
I follow him back to the castle, keeping my hand on the wall again. Rhone walks with me to the huge hall where the Bruma eat. As usual, everyone turns to look and glare upon my arrival, but as expected no one dares to touch me when he is looming by my side.
I have found the assembly here to be different and similar at the same time. As on Osolis, the people who eat here are those who are connected to, or who are a person in a high position; ministers, advisors, important merchants. Unlike Osolis though, these people did not live in the castle and the only Bruma who seemed to stay here were high-ranking travellers, some of the King’s advisors, Rhone, and guards down in the barracks. The only mystery remaining, were the large number of females who seemed to stay somewhere in the castle, though they were always changing. Sometimes I would see a similar face, only to see a different face leaving the same room the next day.
Rhone continues walking and we stop at a table close to the throne platform where Malir, Sanjay and Adnan sit. The King is listening to someone talk on his left side. His eyes flick to me briefly. I have not had any more interaction with the King since the meeting room. I hope this continues.
“Morning,” Malir greets, shifting to the side so I can sit next to him.
“Good morning everyone,” I say and talk briefly to Fiona before approaching the table of food.
The food table stretches all the way down one wall and is piled with all kinds of strange edibles. It is another difference to the Osolis court. Here, there is communal food, you are not served. I still didn’t know what most of the food was. Roman had pointed me in the direction of a fruit he called a pear, saying it would be most similar to an apple. I had not known my eating habits were so noticed.
I have just grasped my pear from the groaning table when I’m shoved to the side by a huge body. Losing my feet and the pear, I protect my left arm, rolling over so the back of my shoulder hits the ground instead. I continue rolling to my feet, sinking into a defensive posture. Keeping a low profile is warranted, but I will protect myself.
I look back at the large man and scrunch my nose as his smell reaches me. Mostly, I have found Bruma stereotypes to be unfounded, but this man fits them perfectly.
“Move it Solati whore,” he snarls.
I don’t even have time to respond before a massive hand grips him around the throat.
“Gabel,” the King says in a casual tone. “Why are you harassing my guest?”
Unfortunately for Gabel, he mistakes this for a genuine inquiry.
“She killed Prince Kedrick,” Gabel chokes as the King squeezes a bit more.
He turns to face the assembly who are watching. Gabel follows him around, balancing on his tip toes. “I have seen the way you have all been treating our guest,” he says. “Might I remind you the Princess is a woman and half your size?” Gabel’s face is turning red. I do not dare look at the assembly for their reactions.
“Let me set you straight on the matter of my brother’s death,” he says, continuing to squeeze.
“Contrary to what you all apparently think, my brother sacrificed himself to save the Tatuma.” The room hushes.
He continues, “Do not make a mockery of his bravery, or of his sacrifice.” The King turns to me, I force myself to stay still.
“I apologise on their behalf. If I had been myself in recent weeks, the matter would have been cleared up before now.” I nod, distracted by the man still in his grasp.
Gabel’s face is now purple, his lips turning a blue tinge.
The King drops him to the floor and returns to his throne without a backwards look. Gabel curls into a ball on the ground, drawing air weakly into his lungs. I stare for a few seconds, then step over him to get another pear.
From that day on the tripping and shoving stop.
I’m in a deep sleep, as I always seem to be in this bed. I struggle to the surface as a loud crash sounds outside my door.
I listen intently as there is sudden silence. My door crashes open. I jump, trying to extract myself from the fur I am tangled up in. A huge shadow fills the doorway and I see the outline of my guards laying in a heap behind them. The shadow enters the room and slams the door closed.
I frantically pull out of the fur, putting a hand up to my veil. I hesitate when I notice my predicament. I have taken to sleeping without clothing on due to only having one set of clothing. I like to stay as clean as possible, which is made hard without the help of regular baths.
I compromise by wrapping the fur around me as I stand. I will fight naked if I have to.
“What do you want? Why are you in this room?” I ask, my voice direct.
The person swears, surprised. “Shit, you’re awake.” The voice is slurring, but I recognise it nonetheless.
“What are you doing in here, King Jovan?” I ask. He is acting strangely. His movements are clumsy. He takes several steps backwards during his walk towards the bed. I watch, my fear turning into confusion. He finally makes it to the seat at the end of the bed and collapses.
“Your room is huge,” he complains, huffing as though he has run uphill.
“You just beat up your own guards,” I say. This is beyond strange. I don’t know what to think, or if I should get him help.
He closes his eyes, a grin across his face. “Yep.” He sways on the seat while I hover next to the bed in the fur, uncertain.
“You’re ill. Do you need help?” I ask.
“Do I need help?” he repeats quietly. “I think I do.” I wonder if he knows he is talking aloud. I say nothing, my eyes still accustoming to the dark.
“Tell me of you and Kedrick,” he demands in a surprised voice like he has just remembered something important. I blink at his request. Is that why he’s here?
It had been weeks now and the King had shown no outward sign of grieving for Kedrick, apart from his comment in the food hall earlier. Considering his control when he first heard the news, though, I wouldn’t have imagined him as the sort to break down as I had.
I walk around to him and tilt my head to the side. I think King Jovan has finally lost control.
I look longingly towards the bed and sigh. This was not going to be a short visit.
The King watches, turning his head with my movement as I step around him to put beads on the fire. Once the fire is lit I prop myself up in the chair next to it and carefully tuck the fur under my legs. Where do I start?
“We were friends to begin with. It was my job to show him around the palace. We spent much time together, more than was required of us. We grew closer.” I shrug.
“Doing what?” King Jovan shouts.
“You don’t need to yell,” I reprimand.
“I wasn’t shouting,” he sulks, his head lolls back and thuds against the stone pillar behind him.
Rolling my eyes, I humour him. “To start, we would go on walks. Sometimes to the village or to the old lake, but often we would just walk through the outer meadow surrounding the palace. He would talk of Glacium; the people, the animals, the cold. And I helped him to understand Osolis.”
The King is completely still, rapt on every word. I realise he really just wants to hear about his brother and what he did in the time before his death.
“Things are very discreet on Osolis. Kedrick was like…a breath of fresh air after inhaling smoke. I quickly learnt of his honesty and good heart.” I smile. “It took me a little while to get used to his bold questions, but they became one of my favourite things about him.” I giggle at a memory and decide to share it with the King.
“Although, he occasionally got me in trouble for it. One time we were in the dining hall and he accidentally called me Lina. I thought for sure I would be -” My eyes widen at the words I almost let slip. I must still be half asleep. I hurry on. “It was very scandalous. I’m sure the court will gossip about it for years.” I shrug my right shoulder awkwardly and pull the fur up when it slips down.
Smiling, I remember how furious I had been at Kedrick. It seemed so trivial now.
“I was so mad at him at the time. But being mad at Kedrick for blurting out whatever is on his mind is like being angry at snow for being cold.” I laugh softly and hear it echoed by the King.
“He spoke often of you and Ashawn,” I say and poke at the fire a bit, though it does not need the attention.
“What did he say of me?” the King asks, leaving the seat and stumbling towards me, only to drop down heavily and sprawl in front of the fire. I wonder if he’s like this often and if the assembly is aware of his malady.
I smile, happy to relay what Kedrick had said of him. “He said you were his best friend, his advisor. That you had become his father, too, in recent years,” I say, turning my head away to give him some privacy as the King stills with my words.
The fire pops and crackles.
“They told me my brother loved you. Did you love him?” he asks softly.
“Yes,” I say, my heart giving a painful squeeze. It is something which has tortured me since Kedrick’s death. “I never told him,” I admit.
I wave my hand around the room. “Solati are much more conservative than your race. I was embarrassed to say it to him.” I clench both of my fists, the left hand does not close fully yet. “I regret it most bitterly. I hope he knew I loved him. That I love him still.”
“My brother was always confident with women. It would not occur to him that you would feel differently,” the King says. I crease my brow at his comment wondering what he meant. Kedrick had never seemed this way to me. He had been confident, but I had never found him arrogant.
“He loved you regardless.” The King stands up on unsteady feet. “What a fool! To fall in love with the Princess. Don’t know what he was thinking.”
He lurches to the bed and swings a fist at one of the stone columns surrounding it. My eyes widen at his sudden rage. I stand, gripping the fur.
“Could you be pregnant?” he asks, spinning back around. I gasp at his rudeness.
“That is none of your business!” I say.
The King steps towards me. I hesitate, unsure of what to do.
“Don’t be embarrassed. My brother was never shy of showing his affection to the fairer sex.”
I gasp again. Why is he saying these things?
I had not thought of Kedrick being with other women before me. But he is right, I have seen enough of the open groping in the food hall to know Glacium is very different in this regard. My heart sinks. The love I felt for Kedrick feels tarnished somehow.
I look up at the King who hesitates a bit before resuming his slow stalk towards me.
“Why is it he warned the others not to speak of your veil?” he muses. His voice is a bit steadier now, he’s not slurring his words as much.
I don’t answer. It is too personal to talk of.
I look towards the door, debating whether I should leave now. I look back and the King is suddenly right in front of me. I jump back in fright.
“Did he see your face?” he asks. His breath is sweet, potently sweet.
“No,” I lie, trying to calm him. I look down at one of his hands. Both of them combined could nearly enclose my head. At best, I would only be able to evade him while he is this ill. He had still been able to take care of my two guards and I had no real chance against him with a mostly healed wrist and stiff shoulder.
I look around for a way to get out. “You are trapped, little girl,” the King purrs as he steps closer. “And you’re lying to me. I do not like liars.”
“Do not call me-”He lunges forward halfway through my retort and grabs my shoulders. My breathing is shallow and rapid.
“I want to see what he saw,” the King growls.
My heart hammers in my chest as I realise his intent. He drags me to the wall next to the fire and pins my shoulders to the wall with his forearm across my chest before I can blink. My eyes are wide. I am defenceless. I grip his forearm with both hands, trying to tear it off, scratching him. This does not bother him. My legs kick at him, but he presses his body against mine to pin my legs down. I throw my head back and catch him under the chin.
He grunts, but does not loosen his hold. Instead, using his other hand he rips off my veil. I barely have my eyes squeezed shut. It is off, my veil is off.
The King says nothing, he makes no sound. The only movement is that of my chest underneath his forearm and the sounds of my gasping attempts to breathe through my fear.
I do not dare open my eyes.
It is utterly silent apart from the occasional popping from the fire. I flinch, turning my head as he begins touching my face. He traces across my cheek bones and chin, across my forehead down my jaw, ignoring my efforts to throw him off by shaking my head side to side.
“Open your eyes,” he says in a hoarse voice.
I am not going anywhere until he lets me go. I open my eyes and look up at him. He reels from me so quickly I nearly fall over.
I scrabble to collect the fur from the floor as it drops to the ground without his forearm to hold it in place. I stand up, unable to meet his eyes after his view of my nakedness. He is completely silent. I finally look up and am surprised by his look of absolute shock. His eyes only leave mine to look at the veil in his hands. His mouth hangs open.
I don’t know how long we stand there, but my hands start shaking from the tension. King Jovan swallows hard, I notice he is no longer swaying. My face has shocked him out of whatever ailed him.
“You must wear your veil,” he says.
I nod, my eyebrows furrow in confusion, which turns swiftly to anger. Why do people keep saying that to me, or dying?
He rushes me again, slamming me against the wall and gripping my throat. His eyes are wild and unrestrained like an animal.
“Do not test me. Your life is forfeit if I so much as detect you have twitched your veil without my permission,” he spits.
There is a second where I think he must truly be able to read my mind, then I see his eyes flicking across my face and realise I have forgotten to filter the expression on my face. I’m so used to the veil concealing it. He must have seen my anger.
His threat bounces off me. I have no doubt he will do exactly as he says, but my mother has used these words so often they have lost their effectiveness.
“Do you understand?” He shakes me, yelling in my face. My eyes flash up to his. Without my veil I am able to see his face clearly in the light of the fire. With him this close I can see the individual lashes around his eyes which remind me so much of Kedrick.
I sigh. “I had not been planning to take it off anyway, King Jovan, but you have made yourself clear.” I look directly into his eyes as I say this.
His gaze flickers down and then back up to my eyes again. He releases his grip and pushes the veil into my hand. He does not wait to see if I put it back on. With one last murderous look he stalks out of the room and is gone with the same slamming of the door he came in with.
I replace my veil in a daze, trying to absorb what just happened. I locate the wooden band across the room and push it over my head. As I do, my anger fails me and utter devastation fills me. Three people have seen my face, one is dead and the others both threatened to kill me. King Jovan is more similar to my mother than I had thought.
All my loneliness and heartache, and all my worries and sorrows rain down on me when I attempt to sleep once more. I have not cried more than a few tears since Kedrick’s death, but now, in the lonely dark, I sob until falling into an exhausted sleep.