by Buck, Alicia
He got up quickly, growling, transformed from the bored courtier to an enraged hornet. I had to give him credit, though. He was smart enough not to charge me again. I waited on the balls of my feet for his next move, every nerve tense, ready to spring. Instead of trying to run me over, Baro tried to slide in close enough to punch me in the face. I front-kicked him, then continued my momentum, sweeping down his arms and punching his face instead. I felt the numbing tingle of fist hitting flesh as I again sidled away from his recovery blow.
I didn’t like that I was actually hurting Baro. A longing for my dojo swept through me. With my thoughts distracting me, I almost missed blocking Baro’s next punch to my face. Because of that, his other fist struck my stomach, and I staggered back. Baro gave me no time to recuperate but came flying at me as he had at first. Even winded, I managed to step to the side and sweep his feet from him using his own momentum. But I was panting, and I felt a sharp jab of fear. I wished the fight would just end.
Baro got up, his face turnip red. If he’d been mad before, he was positively raging now. He didn’t seem to know how to do anything but punch. I blocked him with determined concentration. Sweat on my brow trickled into my eyes, making me blink constantly. One blink lasted too long, and he hit my jaw hard enough to blacken the world for an instant. I struck out blindly and was blocked, but it gave me enough time to be able to see again.
Rage built off the fear inside me. I focused on Baro as if he was the only thing that existed. My sensei had often remarked that it took getting hurt before I woke up enough to start fighting well. Baro had just woken me up. I attacked, striking with quick combinations of punches and kicks. He tried to block, but I hit more often than he blocked. I hardly heard the low bellow of the horn.
“Stop.” Baro shielded his face with his arms. “It is over. For pity’s sake, stop.”
I recoiled from him as if hit. His face was bloody, bruises already blossoming on the sections of his skin not shielded by his leather outfit. I looked at my own hands to see them covered in red. Bile rose up my throat, and I came perilously close to regurgitating chunks of food all over the arena. A temporary fighting frenzy had taken over. That had never happened to me before. My fear from the fight turned inward; I was afraid of myself.
I looked around the crowd, feeling lost, looking for something I couldn’t identify. The crowd was standing, clapping politely as if I had just performed a piano concerto, not beaten a man’s face in. I stumbled stupidly toward the archway that led outside, tripped through it, and ran like wildfire to my room. Once I got there I used the cleaning lacing on myself, but I still felt dirty. I dipped my hands into the water basin and scrubbed until my already raw knuckles bled. At that point I was shaking too much to continue.
“Stop having conniptions, Mary,” I told myself. “It’s not as if you killed him or anything. He’ll be healed in two seconds. Won’t even get scars. So why are you acting like a two-year-old?” A drop rolled down my face. I was shaken, not because I had hurt Baro, but because for a split second as I had been attacking him like a crazed maniac, I had almost enjoyed it, reveling in the feeling of fist squarely hitting face.
There was a knock on my door. I jumped from guilt but stayed quiet.
“Princess, are you in there? You need to let someone see to your injuries.” It was Breeohan. I would know his smooth baritone voice anywhere. I stayed silent. “May I come in?” he asked. Then in a lower, quieter voice, he said, “Mary, please let me in.”
My eyes were glued to the door, wishing he would come in but also wishing he would go away. After a few minutes I heard his steps as he walked off.
I woke to the sound of knocking. A glance at my window showed a brilliant orange and red sky against the few clouds hovering overhead. I lay on top of the soft feather mattress and all the covers, still dressed in the outfit I had fought Baro in. My knuckles stung, and my jaw hurt, so it took me a few seconds to get my mouth to creak open.
“Come in,” I said, still too groggy to form any coherent thoughts.
“Princess, I was pleasantly surprised to see you fight so well this afternoon. It was amazing. I haven’t ever seen jova matches where the weapon is no weapon.”
I couldn’t see him, but Rafan’s gravelly voice wound around the bed curtains like a saw to my ears. He walked to where I could see him, smiling broadly.
“Can I help you with something?” I tried to sound as if I hadn’t just woken up, but I was still feeling groggy and wasn’t sure I pulled it off.
“I am here to help you. There is to be a formal dinner tonight held in your honor, and I wanted to make sure you made it to your feast.”
I didn’t want to go. I was sure I would be gawked at, talked at, and just plain stressed out by trying to act royal rather than rural.
“What’s this? Your jaw is bruised, and your hands . . . Let me heal them for you.”
“No thanks, I’ve got it,” I said, and with a swift twist, I healed myself.
Rafan’s frown almost looked like a pout. “I brought you another dress for dinner.” He threw a dark blue gown onto the bed next to me.
“How did you get these dresses so quickly?”
“I can’t reveal all my secrets. If I did, I would have nothing to keep your interest.” He was back in charmer mode.
I tried not to roll my eyes. “Well, thank you, Rafan. I’ll put it on right away.” We regarded each other for a minute, me pointedly, he obliviously.
Finally, he shifted his feet uncomfortably. “I shall send in Sentai to dress you and will wait outside to escort you to dinner.”
His eyes looked expectant, but I had no idea what he wanted. “Thanks.”
A woman in a plain purple and gold outfit entered as Rafan left. “Good evening, Princess. I have been assigned as your maid here in the palace. Would you like to dress now?”
“All right.” I eyed her warily. I was in uncharted territory when it came to servants and what I was supposed to do with one. “Are you Sentai?” I took off my outer clothes and quickly pulled the dress over my head. It was embarrassing to be seen in my undies by a complete stranger.
Instead of answering, the maid made a funny noise, something between a gasp and a sob.
“What?” I looked around the room quickly. “What’s wrong?”
“I am sorry, Princess, that I displease you. I will inform my superior that you desire a different servant.” She backed toward the door.
“Why? You haven’t done anything. What would I be displeased about?” I felt flustered.
“I am sorry for speaking without permission.” She ducked her head to stare at the ground.
What in the world? “Look, Sentai, in my country everyone, including servants, can speak whenever they want to. So I would feel a lot better if you would just tell me what you usually do. I think we would both avoid a lot of confusion that way.”
“Yes, Princess.” She still looked at the ground.
I waited again, hoping my silence would make her crack. She was much better at staying silent than I was. “So, are you going to tell me what I did wrong?” I asked.
“Princess, you are always correct in whatever you wish to do.”
“What’s that? When you look down and mumble to the floor, I can’t be sure if I hear you correctly. I thought you said whatever I do is right, but you couldn’t have said that. I am the queen of blunders. Believe me, once you get to know me a little better, you will take back your words.”
My speech was odd enough to make Sentai look up, her eyes filled with confusion. I gave my goofiest grin. “Now would you please tell me what I did to upset you? This place is confusing to me, and I could really use your help. That is, if you wouldn’t mind.”
She pointed hesitantly to my dress, which was still unbuttoned. “If you please, it is usually the maid’s job to dress her mistress.”
“What is wrong with these nobles? Can’t they even dress themselves? They have to get someone else to do if for them?” I burst out in frustra
tion.
At my words, Sentai backed up and fixed her gaze to the floor.
“Hey, look, I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you. I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed. Some things here just don’t make any sense to me. Forgive me?”
“The lady may do whatever she wishes,” she said to the floor.
I sighed, suddenly tired. Me and my stupid tongue. I decided to give up for the moment. “Would you mind helping me button my dress? And you wouldn’t happen to do hair and makeup would you?”
She nodded, still not looking into my eyes, and moved to help me with the buttons I could easily have done up myself. I felt silly having Sentai do it, but I gritted my teeth and bore it.
She motioned for me to sit at the curved desk with a framed round mirror attached to it and then began to comb out my hair. The next thing I knew, she was looping strands into curly-cues, somehow making the hair stay. I caught the flash of a pattern and realized that she was using magic to do my hair. I turned around mid-curl.
“You’re a mage,” I said, making a note of what she’d done.
“No, Princess, I can only do a few simple lacings on my mistress’s behalf.” She kept her eyes lowered.
“Well, I think it’s great. I didn’t even think of using a lacing to curl my hair, just to color it. Sorry for the interruption.” I turned around again to face the mirror. In the reflection I saw Sentai looking baffled. I must be acting really odd for a noble, but I wasn’t sure what they normally acted like, other than snobbish, which I didn’t want to do. I decided to just keep acting like myself. Maybe Sentai would get used to me and learn that she didn’t have to be so guarded all the time.
It didn’t take her long to make my hair look like a work of art. She had woven a small blue tiara into my hair, using part of my own locks as padding so it would be less uncomfortable than Rafan’s golden headdress. Next was makeup. I was a little wary about this part since no one at court seemed to know what subtle meant.
“Do you think we could just do a little makeup? I don’t feel comfortable in a mask.”
She nodded, turning me away from the mirror. I fidgeted and then felt bad about making application even harder for Sentai, so I concentrated on sitting still. This was so unlike going to the hairdresser. I missed the meaningless chatter of the salon at home, even though I had always hated having to think of things to say to the stylist. Silence was worse.
Finally, Sentai turned me back toward the mirror. She had brushed on blue eye shadow, but mixed with the blue was some brown, making it seem featherlike rather than garish. At the corner of my eyes she had drawn graceful flowers, which were mirrored in reality throughout my hair. My rouge was brownish red, and my lipstick a neutral color. I felt transformed.
“It’s wonderful, Sentai. Thank you.”
Sentai ducked her head.
This dress had white embroidery and white beads hanging from the pants and sleeves, contrasting sharply with the midnight blue of the fabric. Rafan had left white sandals on the bed. These fit, but I couldn’t figure out how to lace the leather up my ankle. Sentai came to my rescue.
“I guess I’m ready to go.” I felt a strong reluctance to leave my room. Sentai made it impossible to loiter, however, for she went straight to the door and opened it. There, leaning against the door frame, Rafan waited to escort me. I sighed.
“Are you ready, Princess?” He held out his hand, palm down. I put my palm on his as he and Breeohan had taught me, and we walked, elbows stiffly squared, all the way to the banquet hall.
The doorman from that morning was waiting for us. Man, that guy is everywhere, I thought. He repeated our names as we walked into another huge chamber. Everything about the palace seemed to be super-sized. A table snaked around the room in a half circle, and everyone was already sitting down. Apparently, I was a little late. Why hadn’t Rafan told me to hurry? I felt my cheeks go hot from all the staring—it was what all these people seemed to do. They stared at me in the reception hall, in the jova courts, and now from their secure seated positions at the table. It was hard to bear, considering that I had spent my entire life avoiding notice from strangers.
The king stood from the center of the curved table, and everyone else followed suit. “Princess, be welcomed. We are honored to have you in our kingdom and hope that you will stay for as long as you like.” His eyes were intense in their nearly all-golden hue. He gestured to a place at his left. Breeohan was sitting on the king’s right. Rafan bowed to me flamboyantly, then walked to a seat slightly further down the table.
I felt exposed. Walking slowly, I kept my head up, trying not to imagine what the courtiers were thinking about me. Did they think me barbaric because of my episode in the jova courts? Had I already blown my cover? If so, would the king be forced to publicly denounce me once I reached the table? My thoughts kept whirling, but I tried to keep my face calm. They certainly would suspect something fishy if I looked like a frightened rabbit.
When I reached my chair, I stood, waiting until the king sat. When he did, there was a wavelike motion as everyone sat again. I stared at my golden goblet, unsure what to do. The king blocked Breeohan from view, and the curve of the table was so gradual that I couldn’t see Rafan, despite his being only a few seats away. I glanced covertly to see who was on my right, but saw only a dark orange dress before the woman shifted to look in my direction. I swiveled my gaze to my hands, hoping the woman hadn’t noticed.
Several servants holding huge trays of food dispersed themselves evenly along the empty inner curve of the table. One stood before the king, set his tray down, and bowed as he backed away. It wasn’t till that moment that I noticed how quiet the room had been. With the appearance of the food, the noise level increased to a low roar as courtiers chatted with those close to them. I was startled to hear my “princess name.”
“So you are Princess Kasala. I didn’t have the opportunity to see you earlier, though I heard you were quite busy displaying your talents.”
I looked to the woman on my right. She smiled as if to assure me she meant no harm. Though she wasn’t a particularly gorgeous woman, her smile lit her face into prettiness. The dark orange silk of her dress hung loosely on her twiglike frame. I was glad to see that her makeup was subtle in comparison to the vivid orange fabric of her dress. She’d used mostly browns to complement her dark chocolate skin, with just a hint of orange in her eye shadow and two small citrine gems at her temples. “Baro deserved a lesson in humility, if you ask me. He is always trying to humiliate people in the jova courts. He often succeeds, but I hear you surprised him,” she said.
I had been dividing my attention between this woman and the king’s movements, finding it disconcerting to be sitting so nonchalantly next to the ruler of an entire country. At the mention of the jova courts, I felt a sudden stillness to my left.
“It was really stupid of me to accept his challenge,” I said quickly, focused on the king’s lack of movement, but not daring to actually look at him.
“Oh, but you must accept a challenge once it has been declared, or you would be labeled a coward,” the lady said.
“Perhaps that would have been better than acting like a barbarian. Where I come from, we do not take hurting people as lightly as you do here. My behavior today was unacceptable, and . . .” I hesitated, not sure if I should say anymore. “I think if anyone else challenges me, I will decline from now on.”
The lady’s eyebrows rose. I heard a cough on my left and turned to the king.
“I was surprised to hear of you participating in the jova courts today, especially knowing where you come from. But it would not be wise to decline all challenges from now on. It gives ill-wishers a means to discredit you. You are allowed only one challenge a week, however, so it shouldn’t monopolize your time.”
My eyes flitted back toward the lady on my right. The man on her other side had distracted her with a comment, and she had turned to talk with him. “Sire, I took karate for ten years. Have you ever heard of it? Well, we only
sparred without weapons. I don’t think I would be able to use any real weapons against an opponent without getting seriously hurt.”
“If you wish, I can have you work with my training general, Prince Sogran. I need to introduce you to him anyway.”
“Will he cut me up?” I asked apprehensively.
“You might get a little bruised, but Sogran is a very good teacher. He will only hurt you if the pain will teach you a lesson. And you will have to overcome your squeamishness if you want to fight well. Healing yourself is not difficult,” he said.
“I forget how easy it is for people to suddenly be well again without even scars. I wonder if it’s always a good thing.” I clamped my mouth shut, remembering belatedly that I was talking to a king.
“I agree with you. We get too comfortable with injuring each other, knowing that there will be no permanent consequences. But there are things we cannot fix. It is next to impossible to cure someone who has been poisoned because we have to exactly determine the poison before we can fix it. We also lose people to illnesses often. No one can figure out how to cure colds.”
“I can see how it would be harder to find the patterns for those things. Viruses mutate constantly.”
“It’s been a long time since I have heard anyone talk as you do,” the king murmured, smiling.
His comment reminded me of his earlier confession, and I was ready to burst with all the questions I wanted to ask him. But the king shook his head, warning me not to say anything about Earth at the table. He was right. Too many people could overhear us. But I was starting to feel that I was never going to get any answers from the king.
I wondered how long the king had stayed on Earth. How much of what I said would King Verone understand? Who were the other magicians who had gone to Earth? A thought finally popped to the surface that had been just beyond my grasp before. If magicians had gone to Earth before, could that mean that my father was one of those magicians? No one on Earth had magic like I did. It made sense to leap to the conclusion that I got it from Esa. For all I knew, the king himself could be my dad. He had gone there, after all. But the thought was too ridiculous. I would ask the king later which other magicians had gone to Earth.