Flora

by Kendal M Lyon

  Oswald and Marcus pulled her off the floor as she yawned. They started her in the bath, tossing out a knife the prior guard had missed in her pants as they stripped her naked. Marcus's shoulders shook with suppressed laughter as he took it away. Oswald dutifully kept his eyes on the ground, only stepping in when Marcus beckoned.

  Flora struggled against Marcus in only a shirt as he took her last knife. He reached away from her before she could grab it and moved quickly to the door, tossing it outside. As the knife clattered along the stone she finally caught sight of the hallway beyond. Doors upon doors the same as hers, with at least ten guards she could see standing in the hallway before it faded into distant darkness. Her posture sagged as her mouth fell open. There were too many.

  The two men only left the room when it was time for her to get into the bath. She laid her head against the back of the tub and breathed in the smell of the rose petal wash that Marcus had poured into the water. Savoring the soft, warm oil as it nourished the blueish bruises and scabs that still marked her. The bath suds were brown when she was done, taking off weeks of grime that she had forgotten she had.

  She patted herself dry with the softest towel she had ever touched, then applied lotion that Marcus had brought before opening the door at Oswalds orders. The ground below her shook as she stood there, wearing nothing but her old shirt. Marcus then moved in, covering even the scars on her arms and legs with makeup, roughly and efficiently. Nerves started to creep up her spine as Marcus looked to Oswald.

  "Are you going to dress me at all?" She asked. Marcus meanwhile took a creamy paste in his hands and started rubbing it on her legs.

  Oswald snapped his head around to her, eyes wide. "Of course," he said, his mouth hanging open.

  "Then why do you need makeup there?" She asked, her voice breaking.

  Marcus shrugged and stepped back, holding his palm full of cream out to her.

  "It is Lord Reynald's orders," Oswald said, his eyes staring at the pile of objects Marcus had brought in.

  Flora swallowed as she reached out to Marcus's hand and took the cream from him to continue spreading the cream over her legs which hid the bruises there from sight. Marcus's work continued though, and Flora felt swollen after the preening. Her face itched beyond belief with the makeup, though Marcus would not let her rub it. He even expertly crafted her hair along her face to cover more of the bruising. As Flora tried to push it back with her hand, Marcus grabbed it and shook his head, his eyes filled with apologies, though he said nothing.

  Flora dropped her hand back as she inspected the man in front of her. As Flora pondered, he fished out a golden flaming pin from one of his bags and pinned it into her hair along the side, and she could feel the tension leaving her shoulders. Having another knife on her body was what she needed to relax. She was happy as they left again for a moment for her to put on a set of pricey silk underclothes.

  Coming back in, they made her lean up against the wall as they laced up the corset. Marcus pulling at the strings, squeezing the air from her lungs as her breasts pressed higher and higher up her chest. She could see from the corner of her eye Oswald's smile growing wider the more Flora cursed. Though, he tried to cover it with his hand. Then they pulled out the dress.

  Flora caught sight of the flowing layers of silky green fluttering to the ground before Marcus turned her away again and pulled the dress over her head. A collar popped around her neck and snapped shut in the same silky green, sheer fabric covering her chest, going so low down it did nothing to cover her sandwiched breasts shadowed underneath. The sleeves came down to her wrists, billowing from her shoulders in leaves of silk. Her full skirt twirled around her, cinched at the waist, with darker green shades peaking through the bottom as the silky fabric fluttered, moving the hem. A handful of dark green gems crusted the collar at her neck and on the sleeves. Flora's callused hand softly grazed the fabric, catching on the fine threads as they laced her up. She pulled her hand back from the dress as if it hurt.

  "You may touch it," Marcus said, speaking for the first time, his voice warm and gravely.

  "It is—the nicest thing I have ever worn," she said. "I don't want to ruin it." Looking over at the blood-and grime-covered clothing now scattered around the floor at her feet.

  Shadows moved across the room as people walked passed her window, while Marcus and Oswald finished with her. They cleaned up, and they left. Taking everything with them. At least she had the golden pin still, and they had left her boots on the floor and the knife in there which she kicked to the side. The rest of her clothes were spread along the floor, her jacket still in the bars. She wondered if she would be living the next few months in the filthy clothes, but Flora shook that thought from her head, it was a worry for another time.

  She paced as she waited for whoever would come. She stayed upright, not daring to sit along any of the grimy surfaces in her room as the dress was beautiful and deserved to remain so.

  "Oswald, how much longer?" she said through the door as the sun started to fade from her window. The scratching of fairies in search of their treats began along the glass pane.

  "Soon, the musicians were just arriving as I came down," Oswald said.

  "And are they the ones in charge of my freedom," she said.

  "I can't say for sure," he said back.

  "You don't know anything of importance do you, Oswald," she said to no reply.

  It was Lord Reynald who eventually came to gather her, still dressed in the silver embroidered uniform. He walked her down the many prison doors, stopping in front of only one, as he fished a key from his pocket and opened the door.

  Flora stood balanced, not sure what was going to happen as it swung in, only to see Thren on the floor of the cell, still as bloody and broken as when she had seen him last. A gasp left Flora and she made to move to him but was stopped by the Lord's arm that crossed her body like a steel blockade between them.

  Her eyes flared at Lord Reynald, while he only smiled back. "I can't let you bloody yourself up again. We just got you clean. Just look. He is still alive. Call it a proof of faith."

  Flora held her breath and shaking, focusing her eyes to look closer at her brother. Thren was still breathing, barely, blood covered on the floor around him. He was so still, his eyes barely flickering as Flora stood there. "If he dies I won't help you. You can count on that. He is nearly dead... he doesn't even know I am here," she said, her voice weak.

  "But what of your other brother?" Lord Reynald asked.

  "Don't you worry handsome," she said flashing her teeth at him. "He would approve."

  "This one means that much?" Lord Reynald said fingering a gem on the shoulder of her gown.

  She breathed in, her chest rising tightly.

  "Guard," he said to the man closest to Thren's door. "Get a healer in to see to this man. See that he lives," he said while looking at her dress. "As a gesture of good faith, more will come if you do as I say." He turned Flora down the hallway again, making her move.

  The guard closed the door to Thren's cell behind them. Flora could feel the clanking of the bolt reverberating through her bones as she walked out of the prison.

  Revelry

  The great hall was a blinding contrast to the prison corridors with the setting sun gleaming off the precious polished metals. Flora squinted her eyes to adjust to the gleaming light. She blinked for the first few minutes as the shine of gold and pearl smooth enamel flowing along the walls struck her.

  Lord Reynald had let her through a side door, tiny and nearly hidden by a large statue of a dancing child, so as to not draw much attention to themselves in a party that was in full tilt. Though they certainly spooked a painter who had set up in the empty spot. His canvas covered in dancing figures now had a large white streak through it. He bowed in apologies to Lord Reynald as they moved past.

  As Flora moved into the room, she took her first glance at the other guests and noted the differences. The emerald leafy panels of her dress stood out among the o
ther guests who radiated in a wash of gold and bronze.

  "You certainly wanted me to stand out, didn't you?" Flora asked Lord Reynald. "If you fed me more it might help."

  He smiled in response and patted her hand.

  "So, who is the party for?" Flora asked as she stifled a yawn.

  "The annual summer revel. All the more special for the visiting savage dignitaries from the East," he said, talking over his shoulder with his eyes marking the court rhythmically as he yanked her around a large sculpted iron pillar in the room."A waste of money. Lady Miranda Dells is right over there. See the skinny woman with the cane?" He pointed ever so subtly with the hand that she was holding onto, which drew her closer to his body.

  Flora tried to ignore his presence as she looked at the woman. Her tied back long white hair was the only thing to give away her age as her eyes bounced with the energy of youth. Her frail frame would have towered over her companions around her, had she not been leaning over her knobby cane. Her companions were all other older Nobles it seemed, though none appeared as old as Lady Dells. Nor as frail, and Flora could tell most of them had never missed a meal in their lifetime. Many had permanent frowns that marked their jaw and deep wrinkle lines. The jester that stumbled and fell around the room barely raised a smile among the stern faces, lost in discussion.

  "Who's the bored bulldog beside her?" Flora asked with a sneaky glare. Lord Reynald raised a lazy trimmed eyebrow but left her question unanswered.

  Flora pursed her lips at the comfort of the ballroom, the tables loaded with food, the glittering roof over their heads. It was so high Flora would have had to crane her neck to see the top.

  Lord Reynald led her onwards, towards the knobby old woman, who was laughing so heartily at one of her neighbors jokes that she looked like she would fall over. The man beside her smirked softly. "Lady Dells has tutored and nurtured many young girls your age. She is a teacher at her core, and you are only the next target," he said. "She should find you interesting enough to take note."

  "She looks harmless," Flora said.

  "She might be," Lord Reynald said. "But you never know do you?" he said with a cold glint in his eye.

  "You could be the Royal Jester with all your jokes," Flora said as she sucked in a nervous breath.

  They wove through the crowd and she could feel her shoulders grow tight as they moved. She grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing servant, lifting it to her mouth in ecstasy. The bubbles tingled her lips as she took a sip, holding the glass between her two fingers as many of the other Noblewomen in the room were.

  The harshness in Lord Reynald's eyes was vibrant as she dropped the cup from her lips and turned back to his gaze. "Just getting ready for work," Flora told him, smacking her lips with a pop.

  "Real Noble women are not such slobs," he said confirming the threat with his eyes. As he turned his face back to the room, the severity disappeared, his mask back in place. "Finish up, time to meet her," he said, his lips barely parting.

  Flora threw back the last of the champagne, savoring the rosé flavor as he glared. Picking up his own glass as she put her's down on a passing tray.

  "What was it that you exactly wanted me to get from her," She inquired, looking past him to study the people around them as they moved. No one seemed to notice them.

  "For tonight, just get friendly." Was all he told her as he jerked her through the masses to the group. "No more questions for me now cousin."

  "Friends! How are you this fine evening?" Said Lord Reynald as he bowed, a joyful fickle mask now gracing his features. "Please let me introduce my distant cousin Miss Flora Faodail."

  Flora curtsied, dropping her chin as she glanced up. Lady Dells's eyes caught hers, barely blinking as they searched from one to another. She stayed upright rather than bow as some of the Nobles did. Many only mumbled a greeting and turned back to their prior conversation, without another look towards the Lord and herself.

  Lady Dells was the only one who nodded politely to Lord Reynald with a hint of joy in her eye, her glasses nearly falling off her nose. She reached out a friendly hand to put it on his upper arm. Flora felt nothing but acceptance radiating from the woman, but maybe it was because she was distracted by the viper hiding in the grass beside her. A creature who seemed so much more dangerous. She had to wonder what Lord Reynald was looking for from the woman.

  Lady Dells and the grouchy bull dog beside her were the only ones who did not return to their prior conversation. Lady Dells even slid her way to Lord Reynald's other side. Knocking people along with her cane if she needed to clear space, which resulted in many glares. However, she seemed so eager to get across to Flora's side she only smiled at them and walked on.

  "I didn't know you had such a young, youthful cousin, Lord Reynald! Shame on you for hiding her away. What brings you to the city, Miss Faodail?" Lady Dells asked.

  Before Flora could respond Lord Reynald cut in. " I am afraid I brought her here. I hadn't seen her since I was young, and I truly wished to reconnect," he said, patting her arm which was wrapped around his, glancing at her as if he cared.

  It felt like a dagger to her gut, but Flora only smiled up at him, as sweetly as she could. "All this time I thought it was my idea to come here," she said. "Maybe your Lady Willa finally pushed you over the edge."

  "She did give me the idea," Lord Reynald said. "I hoped that she would find the gems of the castle more engaging than the dirty country I pulled her from," he finished.

  "Yes, well maybe I could help her with that over a lovely tea. I could answer any of the questions that you may have about the city," Lady Dells responded, still staring into Flora's eyes, her brow pinched together.

  "Perhaps not the city. A young maiden like her could find herself in trouble there. I don't mean to be an overbearing cousin, but I do want her to be safe. Safety is always on my mind," Lord Reynald cut in.

  Flora could feel the bump on her side as Lord Reynald nudged her. Flora looked at him under lowered lashes, she boiled but knew he now wanted her to talk.

  "I wouldn't want to be a bother," she said as she stepped on Lord Reynald's foot while he gave her a tight grin. "Oh, sorry dear cousin, clumsy me," said Flora, removing her foot and patting Lord Reynald's arm.

  "The pleasure will be all mine. I would love the company of a fresh new face. You are one of the few in the castle who is not yet bored of hearing my voice go on and on," Lady Dells said, satisfied. She could hear Lord Reynald release a breath with her answer.

  Suddenly, a young girl came screaming towards them, causing the party to jump back, and Lord Reynald released Flora's arm for the first time. "Uncle Uncle!" The little girl cried, leaping feet off the floor before Lord Reynald caught her in his arms and twirled her around. The girl's laughter was infectious and made the entire group smile, including those who had not been paying attention to the party before.

  "Hello, my favorite darling," Lord Reynald said back, the stress lines along his face disappearing. "My aren't you looking stunning tonight. Did you steal the queen's gowns?"

  The little girl tried to hide in the frills of her dress as her eyes took in Lord Reynald over red cheeks. It was not long till her eyes flickered to Flora. "Who are you?" The girl asked Flora.

  "This is—a distant cousin of yours sweet one. Where are your brothers?" Said Lord Reynald, his throat bobbing as he turned the girl away for Flora.

  Flora threw a toothy grin at Lord Reynald as he cocked an eyebrow at her in warning.

  Satisfied with her Uncle's answer, the girl pointed to the far end of the room, but Flora could see no other young children through the masses. "Will you dance with me tonight Uncle Rey?" said the little girl again, resting a small hand on top of Lord Reynald's head.

  "Of course, my darling, come get me in a few bells okay? Now run along back to your brothers," Lord Reynald said and set the girl down. The girl quickly vanished amongst the swirling skirts, but Flora could hear her laughter chiming again soon after.

  "You are t
oo good to your sister's children Reynald, you are going to spoil them and they will be ruined," the bulldog said, his bald head reflecting light into Flora's eyes as she acknowledged him.

  "This is the age when they are supposed to be ruined," Lord Reynald said back with a laugh. "I feel no guilt in doing so."

  "If you had your way with anything else, I'm sure they would grow up in a stress-free world. If the rumours are true that have reached me. You were the one who came up with the latest plan in the war. I refuse to believe all of your successes until I hear them from you with my own ears."

  "Yes, the Folk are all but dead and gone in Merridan these days aren't they," Lady Dells said, and Lord Reynald eyes ticked to her.

  "Except the plague in our own castle tonight. But yes, you have done a marvelous job, soon you will be commander of all the king's armies if you keep this up," the bulldog said.

  "I try to keep those I care about safe. I do what I have to do until tranquillity can be reestablished," Lord Reynald said smiling at Flora. "Isn't that right cousin?"

  "Do you want to be commander of the armies Reynald?" asked Lady Dells, her hands resting gently on her cane.

  Flora was impressed at how Lord Reynald could keep the curiosity stifled under his mask.

  "If I am the right man for the job, but I would prefer to stay at the castle with their Majesties. Sometimes I think even this castle is not safe enough."

  "This castle has stood for thousands upon thousands of years," said Lady Dells.

  "Then the trouble is serious if I take the Commander's place," said Lord Reynald.

  "The King has encouraged them to follow your orders have they not?" Said the old bulldog of a man.

  "I give them ideas of concepts in which to—fulfill, they are hollow without the will to act them out," Lord Reynald said.