“This is Her Majesty’s maid’s chambers, as I’m sure you’ve guessed.” Clair looked down at Raven, her brows lifted, the corners of her mouth curved downward in a scowl. She was tall and very thin, her brown hair was twisted up in a tight bun on the back of her head and covered by a small, white kerchief. When Raven did not reply, she walked over to the bed farthest from the fireplace, but closest to the window and pointed down at it. “This is your bed. And this is your wardrobe,” she continued over to the large wooden dresser and flung open the doors. Six dresses hung inside, and a large box was tucked away under the hems of the dresses. “These should fit you. You’re about the same size as Krinny, the girl whose job you took.”
Raven looked up at Clair, her black eyes wide. “I took her job?”
“You most certainly did,” Clair huffed.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I mean, I don’t even know why the queen asked me to do this job. I was quite happy in the kitchen.”
Clair snorted in disbelief. “It makes no matter now. That box has your gloves, hair pins, and kerchiefs. The kerchief needs to be worn when we are attending the queen, and your gloves are for when we accompany Her Majesty out of the castle. I’ll see about getting you a better pair of shoes.” She pulled a large bag out from under the dresses and handed it to Raven. “This is for our soiled dresses; someone comes by on Fridays to pick it up and wash it. Now get dressed, and I’ll be back to collect you. Be prepared to work!” With that Clair spun around and in a whorl of pastel skirts, she left the room.
Raven sighed and began to undress. She hoped she would get a chance to talk to April and tell her what had transpired. She already missed the friendly girl and her warm smiles. Very different from the haughty, curt attitude Clair had given her. She stuffed her apron and blue dress into the bag and pulled one of the much fancier dresses from its hanger. She held up the mint green dress, and thankfully it looked like it would fit, so she carefully pulled it on. The color was not right for her dark skin, but she did not care. As much as she tried, however, she could not get the stays closed along the back of the dress. She wondered at the practicality of the Suen wardrobe. Her family back in Ghroc would get a chuckle if they could see her now. Frustrated, she walked over to her assigned bed, sat down and took a deep breath. She did not want to have to ask Clair for help—that girl would just as soon spit on her than give her a hand—but she had no choice.
After a while, she wandered over to the window and with a huff, opened it up. Immediately a salty breeze rushed in cooling the room. She could hear seabirds calling to each other as they floated on the choppy wind. Down below her, she saw several outbuildings and people busy with their chores. In the distance, she heard the smack of a smithy’s hammer and could smell the acrid fumes of the forge. She missed the smells of the herbs that grew in the garden just outside the kitchen. She wondered how she would adjust to this new, unwelcoming atmosphere and then questioned how the queen even came to know of her. She supposed word got around that a Goyor was working in the kitchen, but why would she sack one of her trained maids only to offer the job to a kitchen girl?
Her next thoughts were of Eric and if she would be able to even spend her evenings with him anymore. She was pained to think that she might be prevented from seeing him again. She pictured him going to the kitchen to look for her when she was not at their meeting spot in the Royal Garden. She imagined disappointment on his handsome face when he could not find her in the kitchen and hoped someone would tell him where she had gone off to.
Finally, Clair returned and reluctantly helped Raven with her dress and showed her how to pin the kerchief upon her dark hair. Then the rest of the day was spent waiting on the queen. Raven never spoke, just did what Clair or one of the other handmaidens instructed her to do: brew the queen’s tea, clean up after the queen and her court were done with their noon-time meal, brush out the queen’s dress that she would be wearing for dinner, even take her ill-tempered little dog for a walk. She had thought to wander toward the stables while walking the little beast in hopes of seeing Eric so that she might tell him of her change in situation, however, she realized, even after all this time she had spent at the castle, she did not know just where the Royal Horses were located. Ultimately, she had to just return to the Tower of Roses and continue waiting upon the queen.
When she returned, she was instructed to prepare the queen’s tea service. As she worked in a tiny servant’s preparation room off the queen’s living room, she listened to the queen and her ladies-in-waiting dithering about events in the castle. Maddie was talking about her father’s (whom she had learned was the Duke of Perth) trip to Tel ‘Rhia on a diplomatic visit to welcome a wealthy governor from Dar’Ven. She let her mind wander a bit while the tea steeped. Raven knew there was another race of Forest Folk called the Ynny’dagh who lived in a city called Kyell in Dar’Ven and wondered if she would ever get to travel there to see them for herself. She had heard that their two races looked much alike, however the Ynny’dagh had much paler skin and their powers were over rock and metal, not over the animals and the forest like her people, the Goyor. She suddenly felt a stab of loss as she thought of her brother. She missed him.
When her wandering thoughts returned, the queen was complaining that her oldest son had been asked to join the diplomatic journey west but refused. “I told him that I was not asking, and it was not a request,” the queen boldly laughed, her ladies-in-waiting followed with their tinkles of laughter. Raven thought they sounded disingenuous and petty. She missed her work in the kitchen. “He was not happy at all!” the queen went on. “In fact, I’ve been told he’s on his way up to tell me so.” She chuckled again.
“Oh no! Children are so trying at that age. They want to test their wings to see how far they can fly and we have to keep bringing them back to the nest,” an older lady-in-waiting reflected.
“Yes, indeed. He reached his majority last year, but still needs the guidance of his mother,” Queen Danelle chimed.
When the tea was done, Raven carried the shiny silver tray into the living room and carefully set it down upon one of the ornate tables near the group of chattering women. As she added cream and sugar to the queen’s tea, she could hear the commotion of someone entering the living room. She heard one of the guards speaking as they opened the door, then a man answered in haste. She knew that voice!
She turned around, the tray gripped in her hands, as Eric strode into the room. “Mother, I told you, I am not going to Tel ‘Rhia. I have too much to do here…” his voice trailed off as the tea tray crashed to the floor, spilling tea and milk all over the hem of her skirt and sending sugar spilling over the blue carpet. She knew everyone was looking at her, but all she could see was the horror on Eric’s stricken face, his blue eyes were wide and filled with stormy emotion. The room was silent, and all she could hear was her heart thudding painfully in her chest. It felt like the world had melted away and she and Eric dangled in the air with nothing to grab on to. She could not breathe, and panic flooded her body and mind.
She began to tremble as time suddenly slammed her back into place. She was abruptly aware of Clair and another handmaiden furiously blotting the carpet with towels and trying to brush up the spilled sugar. Still, she could not move, and Eric said nothing, just stood in the middle of the room like a statue, looking at Raven.
“Goodness, what a racket, clumsy child! Get that cleaned up!” Raven tore her eyes away from Eric and looked at the queen. Her sharp, green eyes were cold, hard, and her plump lips were curled into a smirk. Did she know? Had she known this whole time? Raven quickly dropped to the floor and helped the other girls clean up the mess that she had made as the queen calmly went about telling Eric he had no choice in the matter as his father—the King of Beaynid—had requested his presence in Tel ‘Rhia, end of discussion. He would be away from Sona Tuath for at least two months, and he would leave with the duke in the morning.
Later that day, as Eric and his family ate dinner, Eric’s p
age surreptitiously handed Raven a note. In the note, an apologetic Eric begged her to meet him at the pond in the Royal Garden at midnight. She crumbled the note and shoved it in her pocket furious, setting her mind that she would not go to him.
As the moon crawled across the dark sky, however, her resolve to be strong and bitter melted like sugar in tea, and she yearned to see his face and feel his touch, knowing it would be the last time for a long while. She sighed as she lay in her bed in the dark room as the other girls peacefully slept.
Finally, making up her mind that she had to see him before he left on his journey west, she carefully crept from her bed, pulled on her crumpled, blue dress from the kitchen (since it was the only one she had that did not require help to get into) and went to the window, it stood open to let the cool midsummer breeze into the warm room. Raven looked around the room one more time to make sure the others were still sleeping, then she silently changed into the form of a tiny, brown wren and flew out into the night.
Eric was right where he said he would be—standing nervously next to the dark, cool waters of the pond where a short time ago they shared such an intimate moment. As she did the night before, she observed him while she hid in the tree above. He was pacing back and forth, and his large hands were curled tightly into fists. Finally, he stopped and in a frustrated manner, ran his hand roughly through his hair.
She sighed—or the approximation of such in her form as a wren—and flew down to the grass at Eric’s feet. Silently she eased back into her natural form and looked up at the man she loved. His face immediately brightened into a wide smile; his eyes twinkled in the torchlight. He moved to her to take her in an embrace, but she held up a hand and shook her head. “You lied to me!” she pinned him with a sharp look.
“I…uh, well, I didn’t know how to tell you,” he offered, quite lamely, holding out his hands, palms up, in an apology.
“So, you concocted a story about working in the stables?” Raven was incredulous.
“I thought you wouldn’t even talk to me if you knew I was the High Prince.” His face was crumpled and defeated. His hands dropped to his sides. A pain stabbed her heart, and she knew she could not remain cross with him.
Raven took a deep breath and let it out slowly, her anger dissipating into the warm night air. “You should have trusted me.”
“I don’t know how things are in Ghroc, but common women do not normally converse with royalty. So, I was afraid you wouldn’t even give me a chance.”
“We have no royalty or nobility within our society so I’m not sure how I would have acted, but you didn’t even give me a choice. You chose for me, and in doing so, decided to lie to me.” She was angry again and folded her arms across her chest and gave him her best scowl.
“I am so sorry, Raven. I just wanted the chance to be normal for once.” He sat down heavily on the bench next to the pond. Raven quietly sat next to him. Eric looked over to her and tried to smile. “You are just so beautiful, and I really wanted to talk to you.”
She could not help but smile back at him. He did sound like a child—his mother’s words from earlier chimed in her head. She felt his strong, warm hand take hers and give it a squeeze. Thoughts of the queen whirled in her mind. “Does your mother know about us? Is that why she requested that I become one of her handmaidens?”
“I’m sure she does. How else would she even know of you? She just wants to keep an eye on you, so she took you into her service.” Eric sighed. “She will forbid me to see you any longer.”
“Why?” Raven’s eyes filled with tears and she started to panic.
“Because you aren’t from a noble family.” Tears rolled down Raven’s dark cheeks, and she looked down at their clasped hands. Eric gently took her chin in his and guided her face back up to his. “I know you don’t understand, but princes and princesses are expected to marry into other royal families to cement an agreement between kingdoms.”
“It all sounds so complicated,” Raven sighed. “What part does love play in a marriage then?”
“None, I am afraid.”
“How bleak. To be forever mated to another whom you didn’t love.”
“Exactly.” Eric looked down at his booted feet. She could feel the despair radiating from him.
“We will just have to keep meeting in secret, then,” Raven announced.
Eric looked back up at her—his eyes once again twinkling. “You’d do that?”
“What’s the alternative? I can’t just forget about you, Eric. I love you!”
Eric smiled, then bent down and took her mouth in his. When they parted, he wrapped her in a tight embrace and rested his cheek against her braided hair. “I will always love you, Raven, and I will never leave you, no matter what my parents say,” he whispered.
“But you will leave, in the morning.”
“’Tis only for a few months.”
“A few months that I must suffer under your mother’s glare and not feel your touch or kisses.” Raven felt tears rolling down her cheeks again, and her heart ached.
“We will weather it and be stronger for it,” Eric encouraged. “You will meet my mother’s challenge!”
“Perhaps you’re right,” she sighed.
“When I get back, I will just tell my father and mother that I have found the woman that I’m going to marry and they’ll have to agree.”
Raven leaned away from him, drew her brows together and lifted the corner of her mouth in a skeptical expression. “I don’t think it’ll be that easy.”
“Perhaps not. But then we’ll run away together,” he said, hopefully. “We’ll go to Ghroc!”
Raven laughed, “The unblessed are not allowed to live in Ghroc, silly.”
“Oh,” he sounded discouraged. “Well, then, we’ll just go somewhere else. Maybe back to Tel ‘Rhia. Maybe we’ll even board a ship and sail somewhere far away.” His voice sounded dreamy, and at last, Raven began to have hope for their future. Overcome with love for Eric, Raven reached up and kissed him passionately, possessively. “In the morning I must leave, but tonight we will stay together until the dawn wakes us,” he breathed his soft words into her hair, everything in Raven’s world seemed perfect, and she prayed to Pom-Ni that she could dwell at this moment—in Eric’s solid embrace—for the rest of her life.
CHAPTER SEVEN
In the morning, after spending all night with Eric, Raven flew back up to her little room just in time to dress for her day of waiting on the queen. She and Eric had said their goodbyes amid tears and professions of love and devotion. Now she stood with the other handmaidens behind the queen and her court on the broad, sweeping steps of Castle Sona Tuath as the royal diplomatic procession left the inner gates, rode down the steep hill, out the outer gates and into the countryside of Beaynid where they would travel west to Tel ‘Rhia. Raven stood up straight, hands tightly clasped, her face showing no emotion. She was sure Queen Danielle knew about her and Eric’s relationship, and she would give the woman no pleasure in watching her suffer.
Time seemed to pass so slowly and painfully as if Pom-Ni himself was punishing her, reveling in her unbearable unhappiness. Queen Danielle watched Raven’s every moment with her piercing, green eyes. She looked down her straight, regal nose and ordered Raven to do more and more tasks as quickly as she could. Raven never let the woman see her displeasure or sheer fatigue at the end of the day.
“Have you given the Queen cause to take a dislike to you, Raven?” Clair asked as the other handmaidens looked on.
“Not that I know of.” Raven lied.
“I’m pretty sure she hates you. She works you like an ox every day!” Alie, one of the other handmaidens said and the others nodded their heads.
“I’m sure she’s just trying to test me. I’m the newest of her servants, after all.” Raven tried to give an explanation that the girls might believe, and gave a weary smile. Inside, however, Raven was cursing that evil woman for using her power to hurt her.
“She didn’t work me th
at hard when I started,” chimed in Eva.
Raven put her hands on her lower back and bent back as far as she could, trying to stretch out the kinks and ease the dull pain. She knew the queen was trying to get her to quit her position and leave Sona Tuath before her son got back from Tel ‘Rhia. She would just have to be strong! But as the month crept past as slow as moss growing on a boulder she felt increasingly exhausted and hopeless.
So it was one morning when Raven woke up nauseous and weak. It was not often Goyor got ill, but she knew where the herbs grew in the forest that would help her, but she would have to wait until the cover of darkness to leave the castle. Even though she could not eat, she still had to excuse herself to the servant’s lavatory several times during the day. Mercifully night finally came, and though she was bone-weary from her demanding work, she took her favored form of a sleek raven and flew from her tall window high up in the Tower of Roses and down into the Alba Forest where she knew the good, edible herbs were that would calm her stomach. After forcing herself to eat the herbs as she stood in the thick forest that she once called home, she stuffed her pockets with more of the dark, leafy plant to take back with her.
Overcome with emotion, she sat upon the soft, moss-covered ground and wept. The moon was but a tiny sliver and its cold rays did not penetrate the crown of the forest. Goyor’s eyes were sharp, though, and she could see everything perfectly. Her heart hurt when she thought of Eric and how much she missed him. It had been a month and a half since she watched him ride out of Sona Tuath and it would be weeks more before she could anticipate his return. She was just so tired. Her fingers hurt; her back hurt; her feet hurt, and her stomach would not stop its tumultuous heaving. Raven sobbed into the heavy fabric of her dress, covering her face in shame of what she had become: a lowly slave to an evil woman who hated her simply for loving her son! She had left her duty as a Forest Shepard in the gentle, happy village of Ghroc to seek adventure and what she found was hopelessness.
Flight of the Raven (A The Sword of Rhiannon Prequel) Page 4