Passing the remaining gentry who heard free food and weren't about to leave until someone dropped a fireball, Reiss came upon the King with his daughter in his hands. He almost seemed to be using her as a barrier against the arcane advisor but judging by the romantic talk that seemed unlikely. Perhaps he was unaware of the woman's obvious interest. Wasn't that how it always worked with men?
He nodded his crownless head a few times to whatever one of the nobility beside him was speaking before catching sight of Reiss. "The hero of the hour arrives, I hope. Pray. Spud's wasting away to nothing in my arms." To elucidate his fact, he hung her upside down, her dark pigtails trailing across the floor. She giggled as he swung her back up, then insisted he do it again.
"Forgive me, Ser," Reiss smiled, taken in by the happy family picture.
"Whatever took you so long?" Linaya began, a purple fingernail drawing down her lips as if she was trying to hold a secret back.
"Ah," Reiss darted to the King a moment, but he was busy trying to get his daughter to the floor. That was foolish anyway, why would she expect him to come to her rescue? "I'm afraid that there were far too many offerings in the kitchen and it took me awhile to find something acceptable." With that she passed the basket to the King and he plucked up the tea towel to dive in.
"Look, Spuddy, jam. And plum no less. She'd eat her weight in it if given a chance." With an expert hand, he unscrewed the lid and dipped one of the crackers through it before passing both down to greedy fingers. The jam and cracker both vanished before either could drop a mess down her clothes.
Smiling at her voracity, the King leaned nearer to Reiss to stage whisper, "I worry somedays she'll bite a finger off. What do we say?"
"'fank you," the Princess gasped through a pile of crackers, the crumbs spattering across the floor.
"She's so delightfully lively," Linaya stood closer to the King, that attention grabbing chest almost skirting across his arm.
He screwed back on the jam lid and turned back to her, "Oh, yeah, you hope kids would be. Don't want them to be all not alive and what not...How's it going back there, Marn?"
What would have been beyond the pale in any kingdom was greeted as happenstance here as the wet nurse sat on the throne trying to get the Prince to quiet down. His toothless mouth howled against the world. "Not well, as you can hear," Marn quipped back, her eyes darting over the King. She was what some women could call pleasantly plump, in the cushioned shape of a plum that when enraged became a trebuchet boulder. Reiss knew a few of the motherly to a village types in her days. There was one in the Free Marches she couldn't have survived without, even if they made it next to impossible to live with as well.
Sliding up next to the throne, the princess gripped onto the arm. She chewed on a cracker while watching her baby brother with a determined expression. No one else seemed to be paying much attention to the child save Reiss who realized what was about to happen the second before it did. Yanking her tiny hand back, the princess walloped her crying brother across the face. The slap echoed through the throne room, every voice falling silent -- even the prince's lapsed before an unending wail erupted out of tiny lungs.
The nanny began to reach over, but it was the King who snatched up the slapping hand, tugging it away from the baby. Growling, he twisted the princess around until she faced him. "Why did you do that?!" he hissed at her, his hands around her shoulders.
"Owe," she complained, rubbing her wrist.
"We don't hit!" he continued, a focused anger that seemed out of proportion for the small slap. "You know that. Why would you hit your brother?"
"Don't know," the princess eked out. Her eyes stared at her shoes, which she shuffled back and forth under her dress.
"You don't know... Fine," staggering up, the King kept a grip upon his daughter and hauled her over to the corner of the room. Nobles scattered away from him like flocks of geese. His obvious anger seemed almost palpable as the haze of good times evaporated. Plopping her into the corner, he jabbed a finger in her face and ordered, "You're going to stand here until you can tell me why you did that. Understood?"
"..."
"What?" his voice boomed across the floor and nearly every eye twisted over to the man they'd written off as frivolous.
"Yes!" she screamed back, her balled up fists dropping to her sides.
"Good," the King stomped away from her, before turning back, "and don't you move an inch from that spot until I say. Do you hear me?" He didn't wait for her second yes, the girl staring dejected at the corner as she hunched her tiny shoulders up to bury her head to her chest. Actively ignoring his pouting daughter, the King reached out for the baby, "How is he?"
"It's not bad," Marn insisted, "a bit red where she hit, but..."
"Andraste's flaming..." he shook off the curse into a voiceless growl while trying to soothe the baby. Something in the King's radiating rage struck even through the newborn and he quieted down. Carefully, the King glanced a thumb across the baby's cheek bearing a bright red mark before he sighed. Aware of the silent faces watching him, he shrugged, "Kids. What can you do?"
That broke the tension, most of the crowd chuckling and people speaking of their own heirs peccadillos, those who spent any time around their children at least. Reiss cast a glance back at the pouting princess who kept a glare at the floor but didn't move a muscle. As the celebrations resumed, she too folded back into the party. Arl Teagan struck up a genial conversation with her, inquiring about her background and time with the Inquisition. She didn't want to talk about it, but figured one word answers for the man she threatened wouldn't end well.
"How was it to serve under someone like yourself?" he asked, rolling a wine glass in his fingers.
Reiss bit down on the sarcastic "Oh, I didn't know the Inquisitor was once a woman" response lodged in her throat. She knew what he meant, people were always asking her that. It must have been so lovely working for another elf, right? They were trying to be polite, the less polite ones just spat knife-ear and went about it, but sometimes that bothered her more. In trying to be welcoming, they made it even more obvious that she wasn't like them, as if she'd ever forget.
"In truth, your lordship," Reiss said, "I rarely saw the Inquisitor. I answered to others in the army. On occasion he'd appear for meals but he moved beyond my station. Far beyond it."
"Ah," Teagan paused and blushed a moment, "of course. I only exchanged a few words with him but he seemed an introspective and quiet sort."
She'd heard the same, the Dalish barbarian turned icy Inquisitor often striking an imposing figure in conversations during late nights in the barracks. No one, even the type to spit knife-ear and chuckle about another exalted march, ever said a bad word about the Inquisitor. Some of it was common sense as they ran a tight ship of kicking any nay sayers out instantly, but some of it was all on him. In carrying himself so aloof it gave the man a strange power that Reiss knew she could never manage. If anyone ever saw the real man below the Inquisition eye armor, she never met them.
"A few of my old crew, in the same battalion, they all went out and got matching tattoos to honor the Inquisitor after he kicked Corypheus' ass, uh, returned him to dust," she coughed to cover up her slip.
"Interesting," the polite Arl said, no doubt bored by a bit of pointless trivia. "The Inquisition eye, I assume."
"Nah, they all, uh, copied his Dalish tattoos but elsewhere on the body. Though Gregory almost got drunk enough to do it right on his face but he wanted it reversed. We talked him out of it because, Maker..." It seemed a good idea at the time, the humans making certain a few elves fell in with their crowd and even a dwarf all to honor the man who saved the world, right. Then one of them was spotted with ink across his shoulder, and it all got complicated fast. The Inquisitor didn't walk into their barracks, but the Commander did, his face flush as he growled out that unless they planned on joining the ranks of pirates on the Waking Sea no one was to get inked without permission.
"What of you?"
&nb
sp; "Hm...?" Reiss shook off the whispers of confusion from the memory.
"Did you have them done?" he asked, struggling to make small talk.
"Nah, no, I..." She'd thought about it, sometimes even entertained the idea of slapping on a copy just so the shems would fear her, but her parents used to call the Dalish 'Foolish sots who'll all die of exposure. They wander because they can't see what's possible in front of them and would rather pout than build something.' "I have a fear of being jabbed repeatedly in my flesh," she said instead as an explanation earning a smile from the Arl.
"That I can fully understand."
A cough drew her eyes to the nursemaid who turned over a timer glass and jabbed it at the King, "It's been ten minutes."
He nodded a thanks at Marn, "All right, Spud, you can..." Every eye in the vicinity turned over to the corner that was missing one princess. "Maker's sake," he cursed, all but tossing the baby over at Marn. Raising his voice above the crashing din, the King shouted, "Spud! This isn't funny! Get out here now or it'll go even worse for you!" Spinning around in a circle with his hands cupped around his mouth, it was obvious the King was trying to appear comical but a grit twitched upon his jaw and his forehead stained red. He was stuffing down a strain as the princess continued to cease to be.
In an instant, everyone panicked, people jostling skirts trying to see if a girl was hiding under them. Servants checked under tables which were then canvassed by nobility dropping to knees. The King grabbed onto Linaya's elbow and hissed, "Can you do a tracking spell?"
"I shall try," the mage said, terrified to admit if she couldn't from the panic in his face. While she did magical things, he stomped around shouting for his daughter and jabbing into all the places a girl could sneak off to.
"Cade!" the King cried at the guard Commander waltzing in, "Spud's missing. Probably a game of hers, but..."
"I shall close the gates and we will detain our guests."
"Right, good, uh..."
"And then send my people to search all the rooms," Cade said, a hand landing upon the King's forearm. He seemed beyond approach, horrors haunting his face which he kept trying to wipe away before anyone noticed.
"Okay, got it. I should do something to..."
Cade lifted up his thick head and hollered, "Will everyone clear out to the foyer!" It wasn't a question and like mabari snapping at an order, everyone began to filter out of the room leaving a once bustling space bereft with tables flipped over and glasses scattered across the ground.
Reiss watched uncertain if she should follow the panicking King or search for the princess herself. Her job was to protect him, but she suspected she knew what he'd say. Shaking off the dressing down she'd probably receive later, she stepped over to the corner where the princess had stood for a good ten minutes or less. Slowly, she lowered herself to a knee and tried to see what the girl would have. Too many people were watching her, pitying, or worse passing judgment. She couldn't have slipped out through the entire throne room without someone noticing. No, but what if...
Turning on her heel, she spotted it out of the corner of her eye. It was barely noticeable to the untrained eye, which was the point. A servant door built behind a bulge of the wall, not even a door really, but a small square window that they could quickly move things from one level to the next. Or sit and listen in as most tended to be used for. And, if she didn't miss her guess it'd be just big enough to fit an angry three year old.
Reiss reached down to yank open the wooden door. She budged it an inch, when it stuck fast and then slammed shut. "Princess?" she said.
"No one's here," the girl shouted, giving away her hiding spot in an instant.
"I see," Reiss said nodding her head. Slowly, she dropped to the ground until her back rested against the wall and she spoke to the closed door. "Well, no one, you know the King is worried like crazy about his daughter. Do you happen to know where she is?"
"No!" the voice shouted from behind the door.
Reiss tried to drown out the exhaustion in her voice. The shift change was catching up to her fast. "Are you certain?"
"Daddy doesn't care."
That caught her. She'd expected a long game of 'I'm not here' which would lead to her tempting the girl out with that treat the cook slipped into the basket. Something in the princess' voice reached beyond the typical toddler exhaustion and rage from having so many emotions and no idea how to express them. Tears hung in the air.
"Of course he does," Reiss began before changing tactics, "Why would you say that?"
"He only likes him now."
Ah, right. Sliding her legs out, Reiss leaned her head back against the wall and spoke, "Is that why you hit your brother?"
A silence fell from the wall before a soft voice muttered out an, "I dunno."
"Did you know I have a brother and a sister?"
"Are they always crying?"
Reiss tried to not chuckle at her obvious distress, "No, they've grown past that stage, mercifully. But, when I was little I tried to leave my baby sister in a lost and found box in the chantry." She was five at the time and so jealous of the attention Atisha gathered the moment she hit the ground Reiss could still remember her big plans to get rid of her.
"Did your Daddy be mean to you?" the voice inquired.
"Very much so," Reiss said. When they found out, she could barely sit down for a week, both of her parents terrified of what may have happened to an elven baby left alone anywhere, never mind within a chantry. "But, he did it because he was worried about me. Because he loved me."
That trite response got a kick of the princess' shoe inside the wall. She wasn't buying that. "I hate him."
"Your father's doing what he thinks is best for you," Reiss said. Maker, how did she get wrapped up into this? And on her first day no less.
The princess continued on her rant that seemed to have been building for weeks, "Don't care. I hate him. He...he made Mummy sick and she won't play with me anymore. He cries all the time and, and stinks!"
Oh. The King wasn't the him she meant, the girl unable to let go her focus on her brother. Reiss dropped her head down and accepted that logic wasn't going to work on the girl in this state. "If you stay in there forever you'll starve to death," she said, trying something she used to use on her own brother when she wasn't at her wits end from hunger and exhaustion.
"Don't care!"
"We'll dig out your skeleton, it'll be very sad."
"No!"
Okay, the macabre wasn't working. She was probably too young to understand death. "You won't be able to play with any of your toys and...and your brother will get them all."
Slowly, the door to the hideaway lifted open revealing a black curl and a haunting green eye. "You're lying?" she accused.
"Nope, it's written in the rules of the kingdom. Any princesses that live inside walls have to give all their toys to their baby brothers," Reiss sat up straighter before holding a hand out to the girl. "Do you want to come out now?"
Her eyes haunted around the empty room before landing upon the unassuming elf. "Yes," she said before scurrying out of the crawlspace. Cobwebs coated her black hair, giving her a strangely aged look while dust dirtied her knees. As the princess staggered to her feet, Reiss followed suit before extending her hand again. Those emeralds weighed up the woman before she gripped onto her fingers.
Reiss quickly held it tight in her own hand and began to walk her across the throne room to find her father. The princess kept up, but her head hung down.
"Is Daddy gonna be mad?"
"He..." Reiss knew it wasn't her place to speak for the King, but she had to say something, "he'll be very happy to see you again."
***
"Maker's sake, do you know what you did to me? Look at all this grey hair. Yards of it. I bet my beard's gone stark white now," he babbled while he kept his hands locked tight around the princess, both of them with tears in their eyes.
" 'm sorry," she kept mumbling regardless of what he said.
&
nbsp; "You scared me so, so bad, Spuddy."
Reiss found him in an antechamber sizing up some lesser nobles while Cade prodded through their things for answers. She barely had to speak before the King ran across the floor and scooped his daughter up in his arms. Guards and nobility watched on alike as the King tried to chastise his daughter while also praising anything in sight for bringing her back.
"Where did you go?" he asked the princess before turning up to Reiss. "Where did you find her?"
"She never left the throne room. I spotted an old servant's lift and suspected she may have snuck inside there," Reiss explained.
A grateful smile turned up his lips and she felt one stirring across her own. "Andraste's blessing, you're good. You're very good. Spud, you should thank her for finding you so quickly."
The princess' haunting eyes turned around and she glanced up at Reiss, who cupped a hand below her elbow and waved at the girl. "'fank you," she muttered, her eyes boring into the floor.
"Where's that, uh," the King staggered to his feet and absently wiped a forearm along his eyes, "the basket of food?"
"Here, Sire," a hand passed it over. It was almost as if they'd been leaving crackers and jam crumbs on the floor to try and lure out any princesses.
"Daddy?" The girl's grubby hands tugged on his tunic as the King dug into the basket. He paused in his search and glanced down at her. "Am I in trouble?"
"Immense," he admitted, breathing a sigh of relief.
"Are you mad?" those stark green eyes sized up Reiss as if the blow about to come was all her fault. It only seemed fair in the three year old's mind.
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