Flecks of Gold

by Buck, Alicia

  “No, it wasn’t a lack of control that I saw. You transformed into another fighter altogether—one who saw more quickly what strikes were coming and blocked them before the strike had full power, giving you time to counter. Did you notice how many more times you were able to move offensively rather than defensively after you were hurt? The difference was significant.” He must have read my look for he added, “I was not going easy on you. What you need to discover is how to tap into that focus before you are injured.”

  “I can see your point, but doing is harder than saying.”

  “That is why we train. I will see you tomorrow,” he said. Then he walked through the door into the larger training ground. I hobbled slowly outside, feeling the blast of the sun’s heat as a throbbing in my skull. A lacing fixed my headache, but I felt a different kind of pain as I saw Zefa Avana heading toward the training grounds in a pair of elaborate green pants and a shirt. They looked new and expensive. I wondered why she was coming this way.

  “It seems we are developing a habit of running into each other, Princess.” She elongated the word “princess” so it sounded like a joke rather than a title.

  “It does seem that way.” I stretched my lips into a smile and bowed only after she bowed to me.

  “Dear me, what has happened? You look as if you’ve been set upon by thieves.” Her eyes projected concern while the quirk at her mouth spoke more loudly of scorn.

  I looked myself over nonchalantly, taking in the torn and blood-stained sleeve of my shirt, and the sweaty wetness of my clothes. I shrugged. “I’ve been working hard.”

  “The servants must have mistaken you for a peasant worker. How unfortunate, but what can you expect in such attire?”

  “You’ll have to ask the training general, though I wouldn’t mention the part about thinking of him as a servant. I don’t think he’d like that.” I’d stumped her for the moment, so I pressed my advantage. “I see you are heading to the training grounds yourself. Are you going to practice for a jova court match?”

  Avana jerked straighter. “I am a lady of noble blood, not some wench to be seen sweating, dirty, and bleeding like . . .” She looked at me disdainfully.

  “Like me perhaps? But you forget, Zefa Avana, I was challenged. You could be challenged as well.”

  “You told us you compete, so of course you can be challenged. I, however, don’t compete. I would never so disgrace myself.”

  “And yet you were begging Breeohan to get back in the game. It didn’t seem so loathsome to you to insist the heir fight in the jova courts.”

  “Zefan Breeohan is a man.” She accented the “Zefan” as if to further emphasize my unworthiness to call Breeohan by his name only.

  “How observant,” I said sarcastically, gesturing over her shoulder to Breeohan approaching.

  Avana’s manner changed instantly to sweet gooeyness. She turned a brilliant smile toward Breeohan. “Breeohan, it is so good to see you here. I was just taking a stroll and found Princess Kasala on her way back to the palace.” She turned to me. “It was so nice to talk with you again. I find our encounters quite charming.”

  This was obviously a dismissal, so I decided to stay where I was. It was gratifying to see an instant narrowing of her eyes before she turned her glorious seductress face back to Breeohan.

  “Zefa Avana, Princess Kasala, it is a pleasure to see you both.” He bowed, and we bowed in return. I was sure Breeohan was being so formal because of my bedraggled appearance. I rolled my eyes at him behind Avana and performed the cleaning lacing as well as the lacing to fix my clothes, as he rose from his reproving bow. I saw the corner of his mouth twitch upward before Avana cut off any possible response by talking.

  “Are you on your way to the training ground, Breeohan? I was hoping I might catch you there and view your practice. You’re always so amazing to watch.”

  Gag me.

  “You may watch if you wish, Avana, but I fear you will soon be bored.” Breeohan didn’t look too comfortable with the idea of Avana ogling him from the sidelines as he was bashed and tossed around the practice arena.

  “I could never tire of watching you,” she said.

  Boy, if Breeohan wasn’t embarrassed, I sure was for him. He darted a look at me, and I shrugged. Avana followed Breeohan’s glance. I was happy to see shock in her expression when she took in my suddenly altered appearance.

  “I won’t intrude on you two little love birds any longer. Lovely to see you, Breeohan, Zefa Avana.”

  Breeohan’s head shot up at “love birds,” startled. But Avana looked triumphant as I nodded my good-bye and walked past into the palace.

  I hurried to my room where a filling meal of stew, bread, and various fruit awaited me. It was almost normal. Sentai stood in the corner watching me eat. I ate hungrily, feeling a wave of sleepiness as my stomach signaled me to stop eating or face the consequences. Since I still had about an hour before meeting the king, I lay down and dozed, asking Sentai to wake me when it was time to leave.

  It felt like only an instant had passed before she gently shook my shoulder. I let her dress me in something fancy, feeling like a baby the whole time, and gritting my teeth since to not let her clothe me would hurt her feelings. Then I walked quickly to the ballroom where the king and I practiced.

  I stopped short when I saw not the king, but Breeohan.

  “Where’s King Verone?” I asked in surprise.

  “Don’t act that way, Mary. I’m sorry for what happened.”

  “I am not acting any way, I just wondered where the king is.” I realized I’d sounded huffy, though I honestly hadn’t meant to.

  “He has business that only he can attend to, so he asked me to help you in your dancing lessons today.”

  I was speechless, and he didn’t say anything more. Finally, I said, “We should probably start dancing then.” I held out my hands stiffly. He moved toward me and took my wooden limbs gently, hesitantly. I felt that funny tingling and tightening of my stomach again. I looked at him sharply, remembering the enchantment lacing, but was unable to detect any trace of it with my inner eye.

  I found it difficult to follow Breeohan’s lead and messed up much more than I would have with the king. We hardly talked, except when Breeohan corrected my mistakes. I kept my eyes locked on our feet. Finally, he stopped, but I continued to look at his feet.

  “The king told me you were getting quite good.”

  That brought my head up in a flash. “I mess up a lot less with him than you,” I said defensively.

  “I wonder why that is.” The corner of his mouth quirked as his purple-gold eyes looked into mine.

  “You make me nervous.” The words came out before I could stop them. I felt somehow caught but unsure why. I jerked away in alarm, once again searching for evidence of the enchantment lacing. Nothing. This time Breeohan noticed that I was searching for something magically.

  “What are you looking for?” He sounded worried.

  I could sense him doing a magical search as well. “Nothing, I . . . Look, are we done for the day? I’m kind of tired.”

  “If you’d like, but I wanted to talk to you about Avana before you go.”

  “Want a girl’s opinion on the most romantic way to pop the question?”

  “Pop the question?”

  “You’re right, you’re still a little young for that. I say wait awhile before deciding on forever. You know what I mean?” I smiled, seeing his look of confusion.

  “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

  I was starting to feel more comfortable again, so I decided to have more fun. “You know . . . Breeohan and Avana sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G,” I sang. The G didn’t really rhyme with tree in Iberloahan. It sullied the effect slightly, but I still saw a satisfactory red spread on Breeohan’s cheeks.

  “You’re impossible,” he said in obvious frustration.

  “Aw, come on, Breeohan. You know you love me.” I grinned hugely. He blinked, and his head jerked slight
ly.

  “You are welcome to Avana,” I continued. “Just please don’t ask me what gifts to buy her. I know you like her, but she seems to think I’m some sort of threat. I really don’t think she’d like it if she knew I recommended her newest token of love. I’ll see you at the ball.” I breezed out of the room feeling winded.

  I arrived at the training ground early the next morning and decided to stretch while I waited for Sogran, something that even the training general had not thought essential since he hadn’t had me stretch once.

  I was sitting in the middle splits, head down, arms outstretched, when I heard a muffled sound of sympathy for someone else’s pain. I looked up to see Sogran and King Verone wincing at me.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked.

  “We didn’t realize you were such an acrobat,” the king said.

  “That,” Sogran said, pointing to my position, “should be banned.”

  “I will make the law right away,” King Verone said. “Now would you please do us both a service, Mary, and sit normally?”

  I was enjoying their looks of discomfort, but I folded my legs into a cross-legged position.

  “Breeohan told me that your dancing lesson yesterday didn’t go quite as smoothly as it is wont to with you and me. I thought that might be partially due to the fact that you are only used to my cues, so I have enlisted Sogran’s help with dancing this morning.”

  “I thought you hated to dance,” I said to the training general.

  “I avoid it when I can, but it seems today is to be especially trying,” he replied.

  “The ball is today,” said King Verone.

  “What? I thought it was tomorrow. Did I lose track of the days or something?” My stomach tightened and tied into knots.

  “No, it was moved due to unforeseen circumstances that must take place tomorrow. As hard as a ball date is to change, the other event proved impossible to move, so I decided to cancel your fighting lessons today,” Verone said.

  “Couldn’t you have delayed it?”

  “Alas, no. I am sorry, but it would look like a slight to you if I delayed the ball rather than giving it sooner.”

  “I don’t mind, really,” I insisted, though I knew it would do no good.

  The king smiled, and even Sogran looked a little less grim. “I know you wouldn’t mind, but Princess Kasala would.”

  My shoulders slumped. “Fine, let’s dance,” I said glumly.

  Sogran laughed. “Anyone would think you were me.”

  I looked up sharply, wondering if there was something implied in that statement. Both the king and the training general regarded me with equally unreadable expressions, and I suddenly wanted to scream in frustration.

  Sogran’s arms extended in invitation, his eyes locked with mine in a look that seemed to say, “Stick with the dancing, kiddo—and no questions or you’re a burnt bagel.” I clenched and unclenched my fists before extending them to Sogran.

  Sogran moved me through the dances without any hitches while the king watched our progress. But it felt strange to be dancing so properly in a room lined with weapons.

  “You know, you’re very good for someone who avoids dancing whenever possible,” I commented.

  “I am not bad at dancing, I merely prefer to do other things,” Sogran said.

  “Why?”

  King Verone laughed. “It is because Sogran is a very eligible match, and women will not stop pestering him at balls.”

  Sogran gave the king a look that stopped the king’s smile immediately. Verone even looked a little contrite.

  “I’m certainly not the only one who is sought after at balls, Your Majesty.” Sogran spun me out with more force than necessary.

  I caught myself, but suddenly felt I was in the middle of a battleground. “Please, gentlemen. I’m sure you’re very desirable to women. It must be hard on you both.” I lay on the sarcasm as thickly as possible. “And there is no need to argue over who is the more pitiable for being the most charming.”

  That got both men to smile a little, but the smiles were sad. “It is a hard thing to be sought after not for yourself, but for what you represent, especially when you’ve made it clear that you will not marry,” King Verone said.

  “Wait. By ‘you’ do you mean you the king or both of you?” I asked.

  “He means us both,” Sogran said.

  “Why? What do you two have against marriage?”

  “Nothing,” they said in unison.

  “You are stumbling, Mary. Stop talking and pay attention,” Sogran said.

  “I am not. Well, not much anyway. I think you just don’t want to talk about marriage. Besides, won’t the people I dance with expect me to talk to them?”

  “I think it would be better if you said as little as possible to your dancing partners,” Sogran said.

  My face grew hot. “So I’m supposed to be like Eliza Dolittle and only say small phrases like, ‘How do you do,’ so no one will suspect I’m a fraud, is that it?” I felt miffed.

  “I think it would be best,” the king said mildly.

  “Fine. I’ll try to curb my loquacious tongue.” If Mom could’ve seen the look on my face, she would’ve said I was pouting.

  “Good. It is better to be mysterious. Let people fill in the gaps of your silence with their own expectations of what a princess should be like,” King Verone said.

  Sogran passed me off to the king. We danced in silence for awhile with Sogran looking on. I noticed they had skillfully changed the subject on me, but I let it go, not sure how much I could safely aggravate a king and a training general.

  “My biggest fear is that I won’t be able to do this with music. I’m so used to dancing in silence that I’m afraid the music will throw me off.”

  “I think the music will help more than hinder,” said the king.

  The training general and the king traded me through each different dance style. I felt like a ping pong ball, but it helped to have two different leads to work with.

  “There is something I’ve been wondering about,” I said as the training general spun me through a particularly dizzying maneuver. He gave me a wary look but nodded as the king looked on.

  “The king called you Prince Sogran. Since Breeohan said he and his mother are the closest in line to the throne, does that make you from somewhere else?”

  “Yes,” Sogran replied shortly. I looked at the king in appeal.

  “Come, come, Sogran. No need for reticence,” the king said mischievously. Sogran scowled at him but stayed stubbornly silent.

  “Sogran is the second son of King Korh and Queen Dokra of Zephti, one of our neighboring countries,” the king replied helpfully.

  “Then why are you here?” I asked Sogran.

  Sogran spoke simply but with the air of one who wishes the discussion over. “Queen Dorka was born in Iberloah as a Zefa here, and since I am a second son with my brother already married, it wasn’t necessary for me to be there. So I was sent here many years ago as a diplomatic gesture of good faith. I have remained here because it is my wish to do so.” As if to ensure that I would cease to ask questions, he stopped me mid-turn. “I think she will do well enough, Your Majesty. I don’t know why she and Breeohan had trouble yesterday. Perhaps you should avoid dancing with him for the evening.”

  I felt a funny sense of disappointment mixed with relief.

  “You know we can’t do that, Sogran,” said the king. “It would certainly look odd if the princess never danced with her rescuer.”

  “I suppose. Just remember to stay focused. I don’t want you to have to get hurt before you concentrate,” Sogran said.

  I rolled my eyes. “Dancing is hardly fighting, Training General.”

  “It has similar elements,” he said stubbornly.

  I grinned mischievously and grabbed my leg, straightening it in the air in air splits. “Like flexibility, perhaps?”

  He bumped me so that I had to let go of my leg to catch myself. “No, like balance and f
luidity of motion. Now leave. I’m sure your servant is worried about getting your dress ready in time for the ball.”

  It struck me in a surreal sort of moment how casually I’d been conversing with a king and a prince, but I shook it off.

  Sentai flung the door to my room open the moment I reached for the handle.

  “Wow, Sentai, you made me jump out of my skin.” I put my hand to my rapidly beating heart.

  “We must get you ready, Your Highness. We must make sure that the dress fits you perfectly. Then we will need to start your hair and makeup preparation.”

  “But the ball isn’t until this evening. We have hours and hours, I mean portions and portions,” I protested, thinking that portions and portions did not sound as convincing.

  “We will need all the portions before the ball to make Your Highness into the most stunning figure present, if Your Highness permits. It would not do for you to be outshone at a ball in your honor,” Sentai said with unusual briskness. I was so impressed, I let her boss me onto the little stool she had moved to the middle of the room while she called in the seamstress from outside the door. I had no idea where the seamstress had come from; I hadn’t seen her on my way into the room.

  The seamstress was a petite woman, short and thin, with an outfit that fit her form perfectly. It had no laces or frills, but had an elegant economic cut that made her seem gracefully efficient. I could only see her clothes from the back, however, because she carried yards of fabric in front of her, all of which—I soon found out—were my dress.

  She managed to bow, despite the heavy load of cloth in her arms, and then waited patiently while Sentai undressed me. I felt myself going red when Sentai indicated that I should take off even my underwear, but no sooner were they off than the seamstress slipped a golden filmy undergarment onto me almost as if by magic. Scissors, needle and thread appeared in her hands. She snipped off the bunchy parts of cloth and sewed seams back together with amazing speed. I stood as still as I could, wondering if the garment would come off again after such snug adjustments.

  Next Sentai and the seamstress had me step into silky golden pants with swirling, dark purple embroidery, which started out sparse near my thigh, but became more dense as it twisted toward my ankle. At my ankles, Sentai clasped bracelets made of a dark purple metal, making it seem to come out of the end of the pants and extend toward my foot in one continuous flow until they reached the golden slippers on my feet.