Claiming The Remnant

Chapter 22

[ Taiya ]

I was unsettled.

From Asperonin, to the call of the fire, to Isha coming alone, everything about today was out of kilter. At least I’d now sorted a way in my head to remember which was Isha and which was Izla - even if I still wouldn’t be able to distinguish them face to face. Isha was the seamstress, her name had a ‘H’ in the middle like the word ‘clothes’.

It wasn’t great but it was the best I had and it worked. I had avoided accidently calling her Izla the whole time she was there.

Isha had brought an extortionate amount of daywear and evening gowns for all occasions. They were very beautiful, of exceptional quality and most were in shades of blue that I adored. For the sake of variety Isha had insisted on including some dresses in other colours but I didn’t mind. What I did mind though was that, despite Isha having my measurements and the dresses being in my size, I still had to try every single one on.

I was quite tired by the end of it. Isha, however, did not seem tired at all. It was such a surprise considering that she had used her magic on each and every dress so that it conformed perfectly with my body. They were comfortable but I still didn’t feel comfortable in them… odd.

When the dresses were done it was on to the shoes. At least for that I got to sit. How could anyone need so many shoes? As a Lady I would have thought I’d be overjoyed at the indulgence of it all but it just didn’t seem like me.

Isha was quiet and pensive. The contrast from our first meeting was just one more thing to add to the list of disquieting occurrences of today. In a way I had been excited to have Isha and Izla here today. It would have been nice to meet them on better terms, perhaps get a new ‘first’ impression. Ye Gods, if nothing else I would have liked them to get a fresh impression of me but I had been unable to strike up any sort of conversation with Isha. She just wasn’t in the mood.

This was all much too. If my next appointment were not with the King himself then I would have called on Poflorin. Pushing through was imperative. I had not forgotten that the King had promised me some answers regarding my predicament.

Isha had helped me choose the dress for my afternoon with the King. It was blue of course; Prussian was the shade that Isha called it. Isha had assured me that it was the perfect attire for meeting his Majesty, somewhere between a day dress and an evening gown. Long lace sleeves that covered the remnants of my bruise but the paleness of my skin shone through the gaps in the lace making it look almost as though I’d dipped my arms in a starry sky. The neckline was modest and the skirt flowed around my legs the way a summer breeze tumbled through the grass.

Isha had left and Han was flitting about the sitting room polishing and dusting the already spotless furniture while I waited. Nervous though I was, I hoped that this third time would be the charm. The two previous times I had met His Majesty had been embarrassing to say the least.

“Lady Esther,” Housekeeper Grace curtsied upon seeing me by the fire as she entered the sitting room, “I see your meeting with Isha has been most efficacious.”

The meaning of the word was lost on me, which made me uncomfortable. I was an educated Lady but the Housekeeper's vocabulary was apparently more extended than my own. My thought was not judgmental against Grace but rather another unsettling drop in the unquantified ocean that was myself. Things were not fitting and yet every piece formed the correct picture.

“Thank you, Ms Doran.” With a warm smile I pushed the feeling down. “I trust you are well?”

“Perfectly, thank you, My Lady. You are looking much better yourself.” Her eyes travelled the full length of me, seeing me for the first time in a week, and the scrutiny was a little unnerving. “Asperonin’s lad been behaving himself?”

“Healer Poflorin has been entirely propour.” It came out a little more sharply than I had intended but the way she had spoken about him had rubbed me the wrong way. “Han has also been wonderful, she is very dear.”

“I would expect nothing less from my best Chambermaid.” Graced praised, pride in her tone. “Are we ready to meet with the King, My Lady? I have come to escort you.”

“Indeed I am.” Taking to my feet I swayed a little. This morning had been more draining than I’d thought and these shoes might be the perfect fit but it did not make standing in them any easier. Grace gave me a questioning look, thinking she might be about to suggest postponement or even more embarrassingly a change of footwear, I straightened myself and took a step that I hoped looked confident.

I am a Lady, I told myself. I can do this. They are just shoes. I will not be beaten by shoes. Grace surprised me by saying nothing about my awkward steps across the sitting room instead she turned to Han.

“Be a dear and fetch a shawl for Lady Esther.” Grace told her with a softness that seemed almost motherly.

“Oh, will we be venturing outside?”

“No, My Lady. Some of the castle halls can be a little draughty, I wouldn’t want you to catch a chill.” While there was no tone or barb to her words there was still a sting. What would everyone say seeing me bundled up like a babe, too delicate to walk the castle without the warmth of a shawl? The gossip would be endless. Suitors would surely be put off by thoughts of such a sickly and delicate wife.

“Oh.” My hand went to my mouth, covering the gasp. What if everyone knew that I had come from the dungeons? Trembling, I took a little step back.

“Lady Esther? Are you alright?” Ms Doran appeared alarmed. The swirl of doubt and fear that had swept me up must be showing upon my face as plain as day.

“Does everyone know?” My pitch higher than intended, eyes fixed on the door that had seemed so enticing only moments ago.

“Know wha…? Oh, I see.” The Housekeeper gathered herself quickly and took both my hands in hers. There was a kindness in those hard working hands and a firmness that was reassuring. “No, My Lady. It is not common knowledge and His Majesty has no intention of it becoming as such. King Leoré would not allow a Lady to be ruined by such scandal. Don’t forget that such an occurrence would also reflect unfavourably on His Royal Highness."

"Thank you," I squeezed her hands, "I don't think I could have faced the embarrassment."

"Now," Grace took the shawl Han had been patiently waiting with, wrapped it around my shoulders and linked arms with me, "we really must be off or we shall be late. A week on your back seems to have disconnected you from your feet; any further delay and I will have to call Zach. Being sucked through the castle walls is not the most favourable way to start one's day." I couldn't help but blush furiously at her clipped statement. Such an inappropriate comment, Ye Gods - I would never curse my own staff again!

Leaving the Suite, arm in arm with the Housekeeper I was introduced to the single guard at my door. I had heard the King order guards to be posted at my door but had given it no further thought.

"Lady Esther, this is Benton.” Ms Doran introduced the man.

“It is an absolute pleasure to meet you, Lady Esther.” Benton bobbed his head and smiled. “How is your arm?”

“Oh! I remember you, you waved at me.” Looking at the extremely distinct figure that was Benton I couldn’t conceive why it had taken so long for my brain to catch up - it wasn’t like there were an abundance of bald, white eyed men, that were so pale they seemed to repel shadows, in my life. “My arm is much better now, thank you for asking.”

“I am glad to hear it.” Benton had so much warmth in his voice I couldn’t help but already like him. “Enjoy your afternoon tea with the King, take the teacup with Yelka blossoms.”

“Thank you, Benton.” My confusion was evident in my reply but Benton simply nodded his goodbye and Grace practically dragged me away. It was only when we had walked down the first corridor and turned the corner that the Housekeeper addressed the odd occurance.

“Benton is gifted with sight, I would recommend following any advice he gives you - no matter how odd.” She sounded as though she herself had experienced some odd advice from Benton at one time or another.

“I fail to see the difference the pattern on a tea cup could make to anything but in that same vein...” I shrugged, leaving it there. I couldn’t imagine it would make a difference so what harm was there in taking the advice.

After each corner and each corridor and each set of stairs there seemed to be another hallway to walk, a set of steps to descend or a turn to take. I wished that Ms Doran would engage in some casual conversation with me to distract from the burning in my legs and feet but she did not respond to any of my attempts at conversing with more than a short, clipped reply. It wasn’t hostile by any means, moreover Grace seemed preoccupied with thoughts of her own and as such unprepared to expend any more brain power making benign small talk with me.

“Almost there.” Grace said absentmindedly as we walked down a particularly grand hallway. Robust, ornate, gilded frames of all shapes and sizes were hung on the walls. Each one filled with a stunning work of art. There was no time now to stop and admire the collection of portraits and landscapes, hopefully I could come back some other time and breathe in the beauty of the collection. I wondered which was the most expensive.

Halfway down the hallway, I caught movement to my left. The Housekeeper, whose arm was firmly locked around mine, didn’t seem to notice the two ladies coming from an adjoining corridor. Not wanting to be impolite I pulled Grace to a stop, which was much more difficult than I would have thought considering Ms Doran appeared rather elderly. My intention was for a brief greeting, ‘Good afternoon. How do you do?’ and on our way again but what I thought I saw and what I saw were two entirely different things.

My previous notion had gone entirely out of the window. One hand over my heart as though I could quiet its thundering, I looked, mouth agape, at the floor to ceiling mirror that I had thought to be an adjoining hallway. The two figures reflected in it were clearly Ms Doran and myself but I swore that was not the image that I had seen in the brief moment prior.

"Lady Esther?" Ms Doran questioned softly. I must have looked quite stricken for the Housekeeper not to bustle me onward.

"I, I thought I saw…" I started, fear tugging at every word.

"Saw what?" Grace peered at the mirror, giving it her full scrutiny. If I did not already feel bad for myself I might have pitied the mirror and the reflections in their entirety. The Housekeeper's gaze was hard and fierce. Under no circumstances did I wish to be on the receiving end of it.

Words did not come readily but tears did. Without a first thought, let alone a second, I was crying on the shoulder of the Housekeeper. She was stiff for a moment before shuffling us to a viewing bench and urging me to sit. Grace rubbed my back while I cried.

“Zach, I need you.” She called softly. I wallowed in despair. Mad, I must be going mad. No memories of my past, spectors and monsters flickering to life in my peripheral vision. If they plagued me only in the dreamscape then I would not be so distressed but they were chasing me in the light of day.

“Helllooo.” Zach greeted, sounding very distracted. I didn’t look up but tried to reign in my crying.

“Let His Majesty know Lady Esther will be a little late.” Ms Doran told the lad. From the corner of my eye I could see his bare feet dancing on the stone floor.

“Lady, why are you crying?” Zach sounded anxious. “Was Ms rude? Sometimes she is rude.”

I couldn’t help the small snort of laughter from myself at the Housekeeper's gasp of indignation.

“Zach! I was not rude!” She admonished.

“Ummm, ummm, then why?” Zach pushed.

“I’m just not feeling well.” I showed him my teary face and gave him a tight smile.

“Oh,” He hopped about, bright green hair flopping, “feel better, Lady.” He patted me on the head. Once, twice and then stood stock still hand on my head. Zach’s eyes lit up, burning with the green with the full light of his magic. For a moment I was petrified. Green magic; he could transcend through matter. Was he going to hurt me? Push his hand through my skull?

Zach smiled at me like we were sharing a secret and then he went right back to hopping around.

“Oooo, ooooo, Lady!” He jumped around in utter delight. Grace was just as confused as I, demonstrating that Zach’s behaviour was unusual.

“Zach…” Ms Doran interrupted his celebration. “The King needs to know we are late.”

“The King needs to know!!” He cried out joyfully and then he was gone. Grace sighed.

“As if he said I’m rude!” She harrumphed. Not wanting to get into Grace’s bad graces I nodded my sympathies. We sat on the bench for a while, back to the mirror. When my mind had finally become calm I pulled on both my shawl and my resolve.

“My apologies Head Housekeeper, my outburst was most unladylike.” I said respectfully.

“It’s quite alright, My Lady - are you ready to continue?” Grace squeezed my shoulder. Everyone in King Leoré’s service appeared to behave in an overly familiar fashion. I supposed that in this instance I was grateful, especially when Grace encouraged me to lean on her for the rest of the distance we walked to the King’s study.