Authors: Camilla Beavers
“
Milady,”
Sahariel bows.
I fidget and Samir
stifles a laugh.
“
Samir,”
Perul says, “thank you for escorting her while I spoke with
Sahariel.”
“
My pleasure.”
They motion for me to
take a seat at the head of the table. Sahariel pulls the chair out
for me to sit down and Samir gives him an odd look that I can't quite
decipher. The colors here are more intricate. It's going to take time
to learn what they mean.
“
Thank you,”
I say.
“
You're welcome,
Milady,” Sahariel says and sits in a chair to my left. Perul
and Samir sit to my right.
Food is serves and
everything smells so amazing. It all tastes so perfect and I can't
help but stuff myself.
“
Milady.”
A servant appears at my
side with a tray.
“
Someone has just
dropped this off for you,” she lifts the domed lid and reveals
a small chocolate cake.
I reach for the platter
when Sahariel stops me.
“
Who left this?”
Sahariel asks.
“
I don't know,
sir,” the servant says, “He did leave a note though.”
The servant produces a
piece of folded parchment which Sahariel takes and reads.
“
I sincerely hope
you enjoy the necklace,” he reads.
I try not to laugh and
take the cake before anyone can stop me. I take a bite and see a
horrified look on Perul and Samir's faces.
“
Necklace?”
Perul asks.
I pull on the chair with
my thumb, exposing the emerald as I try not to appear too gluttonous.
“
A man in the
market gave it to me,” I say.
“
Which one?”
“
I don't know his
name, but he didn't want payment,” I say, “he just told
me he made it for me. Like he knew I was coming.”
Samir and Perul exchange
knowing glances.
“
Please,”
Perul says, “next time, let someone test the food before you
eat it.”
“
Why?”
“
Because it could
be poisoned,” Sahariel says.
“
Oh.”
Perul sighs.
“
Well, if it makes
any difference, the cake is tasty,” I say.
Samir chuckles and
Sahariel rolls his eyes. I finish the cake, loving how I somehow
managed to save room for it even though I didn't even know it was
coming. I sit back in my seat and pat my stomach.
“
Full?” Perul
asks.
I nod.
“
Okay then, on to
business. I hate to have this move so quickly, but tomorrow we have
to have your coronation.”
“
Coronation?”
I ask.
“
We need to make
the public aware that you've arrived. We need to crown you.”
“
Why so soon?”
“
Because a land
without a leader is on a dangerous path. Aside from that, there will
always be decisions that only our leader can make.”
I sigh and make a
noncommittal noise but it's smothered under a yawn. I look at the men
around me and try not to look too embarrassed.
I stand there as brushes
are pulled through my shoulder length hair. Four women who rudely
woke me only hours ago are now plaiting and decorating my hair with
what, I don't know. I haven't been allowed to look in a mirror yet,
and every time I try I get tutted at by a supposedly older woman.
“
No,” she
slaps my hand away as I'm about to touch my hair, “I'm sorry,
my Queen, but no touching.”
I sigh.
I've never had my hair
done, not even once. Then the first time I do, I can't even look at
it.
“
Are we done yet?”
I ask.
The woman says nothing.
She only shakes her head.
The pinning, tying,
bowing and banding eventually slows until eventually they stop.
“
Okay,” the
woman says, “you're done. Now you can look.”
I'm about to step down to
look in a mirror when I hear a low whistle come from the doorway. I
look over and see Sahariel leaning against the door frame.
“
You look amazing,”
he says.
“
Do you really
think so?” I ask, “I haven't had the chance to look yet.”
“
You really do.”
I step toward the mirror
and look into it.
“
Wow,” I say.
I lightly touch my face
and then my hair. I can't say anything. The women had managed to take
my hair and pin, tie and tuck until my red hair was tousled and black
raven feathers were tucked in elegantly. I look like a wild woman; an
extremely well dressed, elegant wild woman.
Sahariel laughs, “Don't
look so worried. You look great. Everyone's going to love you. We
won't really know that for sure until you actually get out there,
though.”
Sahariel pulls me from
the room and I step out onto the balcony. The sea of faces below
rises up to greet me. I fidget as they stare at me, trying to
convince myself not to be nervous.
They're just as scared of
you as you are of them.
I repeat the mantra in my
mind, barely registering that Samir and Perul are speaking. A weight
pulls me from my own mind and then the people are clapping. My sea is
applauding me. My hand finds its way to my head.
It's a crown, and I feel
like Miss America. I look at the sea of faces and I hear the
applause, but I somehow feel like I'm missing something. I just look
down at them, wishing I knew how to act.
Sahariel ushers me inside
after a few minutes, telling me that there's another group of people
I need to meet; the family.
“
What do you mean?”
“
There are people
your mother was related to that you need to meet.
“
How many people
will there be?” I ask.
“
About thirteen and
that's not including the guards.”
I stare at him.
“
That's a least 26
people!”
“
That's not too
many,” Sahariel says.
“
But these are the
people that are going to be judging me the harshest,” I say, “I
don't think I can do this.”
I lean against a wall and
try not to hyperventilate. I'm nervous and I'm just hoping I can
control the emotion so it doesn't get horribly out of control.
“
Are you alright?”
Sahariel asks.
He places a hand on my
hip as he stand in front of me, mirroring my pose as I lean against
the cool stone wall. I slowly look down at the hand and he takes it
back.
“
Yeah, I'm fine.
Just a little worried is all.”
“
I know it's a lot
to take in right now, but don't worry. Everything is going to be
fine.”
“
If you say so.”
“
Just focus on
something else,” he suggests.
“
Like...?”
“
Well,” he
says, “you're about to meet a lot of people. It might be
prudent to try to remember their names.”
“
Hmm,” I say.
Trying to remember names
sure would take my mind off the nervousness. Hopefully I can actually
remember the names instead of just pretending to.
“
Are you ready?”
I nod.
Sahariel offers his arm
and I take the support gratefully. We walk to the great hall and I
try to keep my steps steady. The doors to the great hall are opened
and I try not to look at all the faces as I'm walked passed them to
stand on a platform at the head of the room. I turn and face the
crowd, and easily see mixed reviews about my arrival.
I can easily see the
happiness and compassion swirl together in languid greens and
yellows, but unfortunately I also see the skepticism emanating from a
few people. I'm surprised I don't see it coming from more. I don't
have time, though, to decipher the swirls more fully, because soon
the names start flying at me.
The names of people in my
family swirl around me; Emero, Zever, Xia, Jora, Ket, Mora. I look at
their faces as they step forward. All of them have unique sounding
names to me. Then it hits me; I'm the only one with a human name.
“
I feel so out of
place,” I whisper to Sahariel.
“
How so? Aside from
the obvious.”
“
Everyone has an
elf name and I have a human one.” I just about pout.
He chuckles.
“
You're meeting
your closest relatives, all of which make up the royal court. All of
these people will be addressing you as your highness, milady or my
queen, and you're worried about being different because of your
name.”
“
Oh great,” I
say, “Now you've reminded me.”
Sahariel sighs and shakes
his head.
A man steps forward from
the crowd, but instead of introducing himself like all the others, he
glares at me. His aura swirls around him, red, green, gray and brown
as his thoughts about me change. Anger, jealousy, skepticism, and
green flash across his face as he stares up at me on my raised
platform.
“
You're joking,”
the older man says, “you have to be.”
The man speaks to the
crowd but gestures to me as he speaks.
“
Am I missing
something?” I ask.
“
That is Dorian,”
Sahariel says, “He is your mother’s uncle, or your great
uncle. He was next in line for the throne if you hadn't been found.
Although he has royal blood, everyone can tell he's not fit for the
crown.”
I watch Dorian as he
gestures madly at me.
“
How can this‒”
he looks at me, “how can she rule us? Just look at her!”
And they do. All the eyes
in the room turn from him to me.
“
She's just a
little girl! Just past her maturity nonetheless.” He says,
“Where did they drag her up from anyway? How do we know she’s
the late king’s kin?”
Sahariel steps forward,
“Do you not remember what Narah looked like?”
“
And that's
supposed to mean something?” Dorian asks.
“
What is that
supposed to mean?” I ask before anyone can stop me.
“
I'm sure you know,
just as everyone here, that Narah didn't exactly have the best
reputation.”
The room goes silent.
I'm not sure what he
means, but I know it can't be good. The implication alone tells me,
but I want to hear him say it.
“
No,” I say,
“I don't think I quite understand. Why don't you enlighten me?”
“
You don't think
your father was the only one, do you?” He says, “Why do
you think, that when she met him, she never came back? She ran away,
not to be with your father, although that is a good excuse, but to
run away from her‒ how would you say it‒dirtied
reputation.”
I'm pissed. My hands are
balled into fists at my sides. All I can see is red, and I'm not sure
if it's from others or if my anger is clouding my vision.
“
How dare you say
that.”
I glare at him with such
hatred, that if looks could kill, he would wish he'd never been born.
“
I'm surprised no
one said it sooner,” He says smugly.
Sahariel places a hand on
my shoulder, whether to restrain or comfort, I don't know, but
neither is going to work.
“
Apologize.”
“
For saying the
truth? I think not.”
I shake off Sahariel's
hand and walk forward.
I've never been a good
fighter. Even in my darkest moments of my mortality I've never wished
any harm upon another person. But this man who stand before me now, I
want to make him suffer.