"Oh but I am curious," Lord Huxley's voice said again. This time it looked as if there was a slight pressure on the doorknob as if Lord Huxley had reached over to jingle it.
"Whoa, Oswald I am backing up, no need to put a knife to my neck," Lord Huxley said, his voice fading as he ran away down the hallway.
"I can smell the whiskey on your breath, Huxley. Take a walk, clear your head, and follow orders next time," Shouted Oswald down the hallway towards where the man had gone.
"Look at you go, Oswald, showing Huxley whose boss," Flora said with a small sputter of a laugh.
"Just for once, shut up," Oswald said to Flora.
Flora shook her head, crossed her arms and turned around to lean her back against the firm wall to look up at the window again for what could have been the rest of the day.
Preening
Lord Reynald arrived early the next morning. "It seems Lady Dells is dying to meet you, and she takes her tea early. Up woman!" He said booting her side, so much harder than the nudge Lady Willa had done before. Flora cringed and rolled on the ground. Her hand pressed into her side. Dirt caked to the drool that had slipped from her mouth as she slept.
He stormed out of the room past Marcus who had trailed in with him. Marcus darted against the walls to stay out of Lord Reynald's path. It was odd to see such a large and muscular man dodge out of the way of another man who was twig like in comparison.
"Who let the devils into your house Lord Reynald? You are wrecking all of my pleasant dreams," Flora heaved after him. Sucking air in while holding her tender side and spitting coarse dirt from her lips.
He was already too far away to hear her. She supposed that was a good thing, because she had a raging headache. Her anger at being woke by him was boiling in her stomach. She had been more nourished at Harriets, and she knew that her body was telling her that she craved nutrients. She pressed her fingers against her eyes, sure that they had sunk in nearly an inch.
She truly had been having pleasant dreams. Dreams of walking through the woods without care. Hearing nothing but bird song and the sounds of the wind rustling green leaves overhead. Flora found that funny as she lay there exhausted in the echoing quiet of her cell, with her eyes close, as the minute shards of light in her room from the rising sun snuck between the bars on her window, she had no memories of the woods.
She had stayed up late into the night. Laying on the ground with her hands behind her head. She peered out the window. She really could only see ground and feet. She could have sworn that she remembered it getting lighter outside before she had fallen asleep as she thought about the revel and scratched at her escape. The crickets around her had struck up their beat and she had tapped her foot along to their tune, daydreaming of dancing.
So much extravagance, such uplifting music, and meeting a Folk, that had really been the most exciting part. Her body buzzed with excitement at the thought of it. To have a Folk in the city, maybe more than one, in the castle of all places. Maybe times were finally changing. Enough so that Vander had gotten into the castle with his head still attached to his body at least. Even days later it still sent tingles along her body.
There was no chance to daydream now as Marcus swooped in to cover her nearly faded bruises with makeup, after gently pushing a relatively small snake out of her room. It was so small she almost didn't know why he bothered. It was probably just in here hiding from the massive snake she had seen before.
He dressed her in a thin royal dark orange. It was nowhere near as stunning as the green dress had been, but Flora savored the touch of the silk on her skin. Marcus was brisk and efficient, with an eye for detail that was amazing, noticing even the smallest smear of dirt on Flora. Flora felt calm as the man gently tossed her around, taking the dirt from her face and hands as she woke. As his brush tickled her chin, her laugh made the man raise a lazy eye her way. As Marcus continued, she was thankful that she had the locket and hairpin under her meagre blanket as his attention was locked on her. He pushed and pulled her around to put her wherever he needed her.
He took a bottle from his bag and sprayed it along her neck and wrists. The woody scent was so strong Flora needed to sneeze. She scrunched up her eyes as she waited for it to come. The explosion seemed to scare Marcus away, or he was done with what he needed to do. He gathered his things, rapped on the door, which Oswald opened, and he left as a sneezing fit overtook her. Even Oswald seemed a little more wide-eyed than usual.
"What an odd man. He didn't whisper a word to me the entire time he was here," Flora said.
"Seems he has better places to be," Oswald joked as he readjusted his jacket uncomfortably. "I'm the only one who has time for you." He gave a half smile to Flora.
"Thanks, Oswald," Flora said, kicking her leathers back into a pile in her room. Bending down as if to straighten them she grabbed Vander's locket and pin from under the sheet and tucked it into her palm. She glanced up at her jacket that still covered her escape, and the knife in her boot was well hidden tucked along the wall. She had enough people in this castle paying to much special attention to her. She would not mope about not having another to add to the list. Besides, Oswald was right, she had him to talk to, and she peered up at his pale face with a half smile.
She strung the watch around her neck and tucked it into her dress as Oswald reached back for the door behind her. He closed it before he grabbed her by the elbow and took her along the hall. Unaware of the weapon she had placed on herself.
Tea Time
She was led up through the castle to where she supposed were Lady Dells's rooms were stationed. The castle was still quiet this early in the morning, the statues around the corridors seemed move lively than the handful of servants along the corridors as they went around many bends and up many stairs. A statue of an ancient queen was being polished by an exhausted looking servant as they passed.
Flora could feel her own bags welling under her eyes as she followed Oswald. Her bruises were still sore, regardless if they could be seen or not. She had to balance unsteadily in the shoes that had been given to her. They had made her feel tall and powerful, but the thin spikes made stairs deadly. She had to grip the railing firmly as her ankles wobbled. She tried to stifle her huffing and puffing amidst her yawns as her legs ached while climbing the stairs. The confinement had broken her more than she had realized.
The landing at the top of the stairs seemed to stretch out in a flat plane for the length of the castle. Broken by stained windows, massive statues, and carved doors. Oswald walked with her until he deposited her in front of one the doors, turning as if to say something at her.
Instead however, Oswald let out a loud sigh before turning to leave. Leaving her to enter alone, as he faded back down the stairs. She paused for a few seconds out on that doorstep. It was bright, and peaceful. For all that she was as alone as she had felt in her cell. This was more comforting.
Even the golden statue of a muscular minotaur that stood beside the door and towered over her did not feel as menacing. The minotaur wore nothing but a loincloth as a sword tip rested against the ground, dangling from one hand. Its eyes were closed, but its back held straight as if it was alert for anything.
As she cracked the door to Lady Dells's sitting room, she felt stunned. It looked more like rooms that would have belonged to a child. A spoiled rich child. A child who had spilled cans of paint throughout their quarters.
She took in the sight of all the books around her, shelves of them covering the walls. Though, she supposed she should have expected it, with Lady Dells being the Royal Tutor.
An unlit fireplace stood in front of the sofas. Potted plants that formed small gardens around the windows, making the air feel light as the smell of greenery hit her face. It gave her a burst of energy that made her back stand straighter. It made the room—cosy, even with the sheer hoard of things. Although everything seemed to have a purpose to a life in the castle.
Except for the one wall. This wall, while not quite as large as the wa
ll with all the many books and painting, glistened from top to bottom in weapons. With one, in particular, standing out in the dead centre of the wall.
It was a sword, a large one that would have had to have been handled with both hands. The weight must have been extensive, but that was the least stunning part of the sword. The blade was stained with blood and chipped at the end. Though the hilt was crafted with such delicacy, it stood in sharp contrast to the blade. Its black twining iron hilt wrapping around the end.
The sword was so magnetic it took Flora a moment to see Lady Dells sitting on one of the plush sofas. Only now could she hear the old woman's breathing. Lady Dells could have been a professional snitch on the streets for how much Flora's gaze had passed over the woman's form.
Flora needed to wake up. She tried to stretch her eyes open. The wonder of the room had shaken her a little. She could feel the lasts dregs of sleep holding on to her tightly. She steadied herself as she stared at Lady Dells.
Lady Dells's feet were covered in plush slippers and propped up on a small stool as she sat back reading. It was a large book with massive gold writing, though Flora could not make out the words since Lady Dells's long fingers were covering up most of the letters.
She noticed Flora then, or at least, noticed Flora's notice of her then. "Ah! Good morning! Good to see you, I was getting bored of reading about weather patterns! Would you like some tea? I dare say you do look rather tired yet this morning. Perhaps I was too prompt in my invitation. Sit, sit!" She said as she laid her book face down and walked quickly through the room towards Flora, her cane seeming to barely touch the floor as she moved.
Lady Dells grabbed her by the elbow gently and led her over to one of her many couches. When Flora sat she sank into the softest cushions she had ever felt. She had to grab onto the armrest of the couch and pull herself straight. She chanced a glance at Lady Dells, but if she had noticed her moment of distress Flora had no idea.
"I saw Lord Reynald escort you from the revel so early last night, are you well?" Lady Dells asked her as she poured the tea.
"Fine, thank you," Flora said. Looking among the walls, the books especially, seemingly stationed in no particular order. Though the sheer amount of stuff was amazing none the less.
"I'm sure it was your travels into the city that have exhausted you, you arrived so soon," Lady Dells said looking up from the tea, her bushy white brows raising over her small glasses.
"Bouncing around in the back of a wagon can do that to you," Flora replied with a knowing laugh, while Lady Dells smiled, her brows dropping back to a normal level.
"What do you think of Caris? His majesty's castle?" Lady Dells asked her, bringing the tea over on a saucer, not using her cane at all. Flora moved to stand to help her. After all, she was an old woman, thought Flora.
"Sit! Sit! I am fine," Lady Dells said to her, causing Flora to pause halfway off the couch before settling back.
Flora daintily straightened her skirts out, embodying the Noble girl she was supposed to be and pulled her gloves up along her scared arms before she accepted the tea. "The castle is certainly something. Though the city does not seem as well off, dangerous even," she smiled, with satisfaction, enjoying Lord Reynald's absence before continuing. "At least that was my view from the carriage."
Flora took a sip of her sweet smelling tea. As she put it down onto her saucer, she noticed a small foil on her plate. Lady Dells must have seen her notice it.
"Tis naught but a sweet cherry drop, my dear. I quite fancy them. Goes well with the tea," she said. "And it is never to early for a treat."
Flora smiled. Unwrapping the rough wrinkled foil before popping it into her mouth and taking another sip. The cherry drop added a tart taste that when mixed with the tea, made her feel as fresh as if she had slept on a mattress made of swan down.
Lady Dells stirred her tea before looking up at Flora. "But back to the castle. Yes, you will get used to its elaborate nature if you spend time here enough. You forget how majestic it is, though our kings used elementals like they would have been around for forever to build it. Are you hungry my dear?"
They held each other's eyes for a moment. It was the way she said it, the sadness that dampened her smile. Flora sucked her tongue around the cherry drop.
"Famished ma'am. Elementals—are they not a mention of magic?" Flora said.
"I can see how you may think that as all of the stories told these days have morphed into that. But what is magic but the real world," she said standing again to open a cupboard, which produced a platter of bread and cheese. "The elementals were real, though one has not been seen since even before dragons started to fade away. The castle could not have been made so tall without them. I talk of men as well though, willing men. Some elementals were men. Their magic made them seem so much larger. This castle was organized by them. Though I must admit, most of the gold that has since been added came in the current King's family reign. Which I suppose would be the last nine kings or so. But my my have they had many workers build the castle up yes?" She clicked her tongue as she finished.
Flora bit the inside of her cheek as she made her eyes widen in surprise. "In Caris—and back home—magic is not well known—or spoken about," she said. However, her heart was beating fast. She now knew what made Lady Dells so interesting to Lord Reynald. Interesting enough to capture and torture her brothers.
Lady Dells leaned forward her mouth parting as she looked at her. Flora waited for her to say something but she held her position, staring at her. Then Lady Dells leaned back. "The stories can scare and mesmerize all— but many are true."
After a moment's awkward pause, she spoke up again. "Did you know anyone from before the wars?" Flora asked, her heart beating while picking at her skirt.
Lady Dells was staring at her, though it felt like she was staring through her. "It was before even my time," she said after she broke her stare, sipping her tea. "It was a truly marvellous era. Though, I would appreciate if you did not tell anyone that," she said. "Marvellous until the end of it of course."
"Of course," Flora said, smiling at her, hoping the mask was well placed, and for Thren and Dawson's sake, that Lady Dells held no suspicions on the truth of why she was here.
"Lord— I mean Cousin Reynald—" she started, giving her head a shake, "mentioned that you have been the royal tutor here for years. Sorry if this seems to be an odd question, but how have they allowed you to keep that position when you talk about magic, to a stranger really."
"I know of magic, our King is still afraid of magic. He keeps me on just for that reason. Though, he has told me to keep it to myself, on the punishment of death," she said dropping her voice into a husky boom with a nonchalant wave of her hand, as if it were nothing. "The heartbreak of watching it fade is what will do me in, in the end I think. Death isn't so bad, even less sad when magic was around. The ghosts that walked the world were amazing. Better teachers of our history than anyone else. Entire graveyards could have one ghost or thousands."
"Those are tales," Flora said.
"Have you never seen one? I know I still hear rare stories of those who do. Even here in the castle. Though, they can only be seen by those who may help them, and then only if they are willing."
"All I have heard are stories about such things—ma'am," Flora replied remembering Lady Willa's lessons. The heat of the rising sun now making her sweat as she looked to see where it was in the sky. It was still low, and its heat already raised the humidity this morning. The sight of clouds forming along the horizon would be welcomed in the city below she knew. Citizens would be dancing out in the refreshing change it brought. Trying to concentrate again Flora took her eyes back to where Lady Dells sat.
"Has a ghost ever talked to you," Flora asked.
"Only once," she said with a cool smile. "I was much younger then, and that ghost has since moved on. But I think one day I will become a ghost."
"I think I would rather just disappear," Flora said.
Lady Dells
cocked her head and took a sip of tea.
"Is there any way for magic like that to come back?" Flora asked again, shivering regardless of the heat. This talk of ghosts was sending shivers up her spine.
"I would like to hope so. Though, some dreadful days I wonder if it should come back. Magic was worse than gold. It only matters when you don't have it. When those in power don't have it people usually end up dead. Many died," she said. "Now that those in power do not have it, though neither do the peasants, and the Folk are nearly extinct in this land. One would think this a more peaceful place."
"Are there any who still have it?" Flora asked.
"I nearly never leave this castle, so you would know better than I do," Lady Dells replied with a forced laugh.
A thud at the door made Lady Dells jump. "Ah yes, finally, my other visitor," She exclaimed.
"Other visitor?" Flora asked.
Lady Dells ignored her as she went to the door, using her cane this time and the clacking filled the room. She opened the door to reveal none other than the Crown Prince.
Flora felt like melting into her seat, but she had nowhere to go. She had no choice but to have tea with the Prince.
Dragon Tales
Flora spilt half her tea as she battled to stand up from the couch and curtsy. The Prince walked in casually and thumped his way on to the couch beside her as she still stood, now looking down at him, unsure if she should still curtsy.
"No manners in here, this is a safe place, Madame," The Prince said looking up to her with a grin while patting the seat beside him, his own black eye already mostly faded. "Who might you be?"
Flora's lips puckered open and close like a fish. She looked back at Lady Dells who was busying up more tea. With no help coming from the old woman she slid onto the couch, sinking into it less this time as her knuckles grasped the couch arms.
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