The Kingdom of Secrets and Ruin

Ruairi

The layer of sweat coating my body, courtesy of a long morning hunt, is allowing an unwelcome chill to take over me now that the fire in my veins has faded. At first calling for my cloak was an excuse to summon Dalliah here again, but the longer she takes the more I seem to need it.

It bothers me.

I mean, I’ve lived most of my life on the waves, what’s a bit of cold air and water to this? But then again, what’s the point in a damn castle if I can’t use it to warm up and recover from my day’s exertion?

Has it always taken her so long to walk here from my chambers?

Perhaps I’m getting ill if such a thing can distrub me so much but it’s nothing the sea air won’t be able to cure.

I sent Avery out there a few days ago to prospect the chance of my court making a visit. The bastard is probably loving his life right now, spending his time fishing, drinking and sampling the very best food and ale that the small town has to offer. Nothing but the best for my mother and sister of course, but I’ll be lying if I didn’t envy his ability to just up and leave at the drop of a hat.

Tedrick is still here, Yeolan is easy to manage from afar apparently and I doubt I’d survive without one of my brothers beside me for company. My sister was particularly vocal before Avery left about anything and everything but thankfully my mother was able to limit her outbursts before I had to say something.

I’ll never understand the two of them, at each other’s throats like mortal enemies half of the time but without him here I swear she’s restless.

I must have been deep in thought contemplating them just now, as when looking up I see all eyes directed towards the door. Naturally I wish it to be Dalliah with my cloak and I want to sigh with relief if it wouldn’t make me seem so weak when my vision confirms it to be the case.

She’s different today though.

Her face is more unique than it was yesterday and my expression betrays me as I fail to look away while she walks towards me.

A patch of whiter skin can be seen covering one of her eyes as well as another down towards her jaw. I’ve never noticed this before and I wonder why she’s suddenly made these features known. I mean, it explains the blue eye paired with the brown more clearly, and I think it suits her.

Nothing about her has ever been normal and I like that it further sets her apart, after all why shouldn’t she have more than one skin tone?

“Doll, over here!” I call.

I know that she’ll see me anyway but I’d rather shout for her than talk to the lady beside me who’s done nothing but bore me to tears all morning.

She’s sat beside me at the invitation of my mother and for the life of me I can’t understand why. Like the other women of the area that this court has inherited, Gretchen seems to take pleasure in the superficial and I’m not surprised with knowing their previous king.

That being said, there’s only so much useless gossip one can take and at least the ladies from Eradeo that my sister has brought with her have home to speak of as that always puts me in a good mood.

The shrill sound of Gretchen giggling with her companion now turns in my direction, and it pains me to turn away from Dalliah and towards her as social protocol would demand.

“I’m sorry, Gretchen… did you say something?” My voice is as tired as I am of whatever she has to say already.

She drops her head to the side, giving me a clear view of her cleavage previously covered by her hair and it takes great effort not to wince at how obvious she’s being just now. I mean, she should take a leaf out of Dalliah’s book, even if her disinterest is driving my crazy these days.

“I was merely complimenting your humour, my lord. Your cloak matching the servant is singular and I haven’t laughed so hard in a while.” She chortles.

“Matching?” I ask, wishing that she would get to the point already. I swear this woman speaks in riddles more often than not and now that my cloak and maid has arrived, I’d much rather end this conversation before it can go any further.

The answer comes from a much preferred source however as Dalliah speaks to me for the first time today. “She is talking of my skin, my lord.”

I don’t know if it’s the tremors in her delivery or the single tear that triggers something in me, but it happens and all I can see is red when the penny drops and my gaze is locked with Gretchens.

“How dare you say that about her.” I’ve never heard my voice reach such levels, not in volume, but in pitch. It’s as if my own throat can’t comprehend the cheek of this woman and I have to get the words out slowly so that my anger is clear and not lost in the deep tone.

“That is my maid that you speak of, a position of respect and honour in this kingdom.”

I stand now, unable to contain the rage that is flowing through me. The colour has drained from Gretchen’s face already but that doesn’t stop me from continuing. After all, seeing the harm done didn’t stop her now, did it?

There is nothing I hate more in this world than praying on those who are weaker than yourself, and with Dalliah being the target it seems to take me over the edge of my self control.

“Do you think you are better than her just because you live without occupation?” I manage to speak louder now, and ignore the look on my mothers face as she quietly asks me to stop.

“Do you think it is funny to mock what you can’t control? Because if you do, you have no place at my table.”

I allow a small gap to give her a chance to apologise, but Gretchen’s lip merely trembles as her shaking hands wipe away the tears of mortification that she clearly can’t hold back.

Good.

“Take her.” I nod to Tedrick who takes her by the arm and removes her from my presence before I can go any further. Her neighbour follows along behind them like the lost sheep she is and I gift myself a deep breath before sitting once again.

I can’t recall the last time I reacted like that and I regret that anyone had to see it. But I suppose it’s needed if anyone though that would be okay because it’s far from it.

“Be seated.” I say to the rest of the crowd gaping around the table and the tone of my voice leaves little room for argument.

Though rather than apologise for my outburst like they might expect, of which I have no intention to do, I turn back to Dalliah.

“Would you like to sit?” As simple enough question but the meaning is far more significant. I am asking her what I ordered from the others, and to sit at my table is a status not usually offered to servants of the castle.

Rather than reply right away, she lets go of my cloak that was still partially in her hands and shakes her head as if to regain her senses.

“Thank you my lord, but I have work to be doing, will that be all?”

I have to hand it to her, her voice is steadier than mine is after such an event, and while it will be seen as an insult for her to refuse my offer, I allow it.

After all, is this not my fault for not stopping it sooner and holding this court to higher standards?

“Fine, I will call for you later when needed.” I dismiss Dalliah with a curt nod and turn to the lord at my left in order to re-introduce conversation and symbolise some form of normality for the rest to follow.