Chapter 5
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The maid dumped a pail of near boiling water over Isilla's head. She shouted but the maids couldn't hear her, no one could. She gritted her teeth and bore the pain as they scrubbed at her. She had tried to speak with them but she could find nothing to write with and the women did not appear to be interested in communicating with her. The bath too hot bath water, soapy and heavy with some scent, turned her honey skin red.
The women who attended her were not noble. Even with her limited knowledge of life in the court, she was sure that these women were as common as she had been raised. They were older, hard women. Classless and mean with years of hardship and pain. Isilla felt no ill will towards them even as they tugged at the curls in her hair, attempting to brush them out. She had long since given up trying to stop them or convince them that she could wash herself.
The women chatted between themselves, each of them touching some part of her so they could hear one another, clearly versed, at least, on what she was. Isilla pulled her knees to her chest and squeezed her eyes shut as they tugged and pulled at her hair.
"Can you believe Prince Arren married this one?" one said.
Another made a dismissive noise deep in her throat, "There's no understanding royals, I tell you."
"A mute of all things! Whoever heard of a royal so afflicted?
"Well you know the Light Realm. All love and life," the woman had a mocking tone in her voice, "Here the little mute would have been drowned if she had been born to our King."
She hugged her knees tighter and the women laughed as they yanked at her hair.
The water had cooled to almost cold by the time the three women felt they had done enough. They pulled her up roughly and wrapped her in a soft towel.
They opened the door that lead out of the bathroom and into the bedroom ushering her out. One of them placed her on a stool in front of the vanity. The women puttered around behind her gathering underthings and clothing. She reached out and ran her fingers over the boxes that adorned the table. She opened one and gasped at its contents.
It was full of glittering jewelry. She opened the next and found the same. Silver with heavy emeralds. Gold chains with tiny rubies. She shut the boxes quickly before the maids came back for her.
One tsked at her sounding for all the world just like Haribit used to. A small wave of sadness crashed into her, shaking it off she stood and smiled at the women hoping that her friendly face would turn the woman gentler.
"Look at this hair! Curls right back up when it dries," she almost yelled back at her fellows. Isilla touched the still wet bits of her hair. The woman took another towel and begun to dry her hair, her strong squeezing out the water until all that was left was a slightly damp cloud of red curls.
She tsked again and began braiding it singing slightly to herself. The other two women were busy cleaning and drying the bathroom. In the mirror she could see as one left the bathroom with the dress she had come in in arms. She dropped it into the laundry.
Isilla closed her eyes, I will never see that dress again, she thought as the woman behind her twisted and braided her hair into submission. The braids pulled at her scalp.
"There," the maid said stepping back to admire her work. Isilla looked at her reflection. Her hair was twisted and piled on her head in much the same fashion that the ladies in the court had worn.
She frowned at her reflection and touched the braids gently.
"Let's get her dressed then so we can be done with this," the woman said. The other two nodded. They moved to help her into her under things but she quickly snatched them out of their hands and put them on herself. The women shrugged and handed her a thin shift sewn with light beading. She pulled on the nightgown before she turned to the mirror again and blushed. The thin fabric did not leave anything to the imagination. But then again, it was her wedding night.
One of them pulled a heavy purple robe over her shoulders.
"Now you make sure when the Prince comes you take that off," said the woman who had braided her hair.
She sat her back on the stool. The one who had taken her dress to the laundry began to put makeup on her. Red lipstick and blush. Powder and black liner for her eyes. "What do you think he'll do to her tonight?"
The third one laughed, "Same thing I imagine all men do to women on their wedding night. Don't be silly."
Isilla clutched the edges of her robe as they finished up their work. Of course, this is my wedding night, she thought as butterflies began to swoop and flutter in her stomach.
Someone entered the room. The smell of food filled her nostrils. She hadn't eaten since the morning when the set off on the last bit of the journey and it was now near evening. The prince, Arren, she thought letting his name sit in her thoughts, he said he would come for me in the evening.
She glanced out the window at the setting sun. It would be soon.
The women finished the cleaning from dressing her and turned down the bed. The one who had done her hair took a final look at her before leaving. The woman sighed and shook her head softly before leaving the room and shutting the door behind her.
Isilla turned back to the mirror and looked at herself. She touched her powdered cheek. The skin felt foreign to her. She looked different. The black lining her eyes made them seem huge and wide, the blush made her cheeks look too red. The powder turned her skin far paler then it had ever been.
I look like a lady of this court. But I'm not. Not really, she thought. She frowned and moved to wipe the makeup off with her sleeve but stopped. The heavy fabric of the robe was smooth and dark. I don't want to be a mess when he sees me again, she thought. Maybe I can make a better impression, she said to herself.
She looked around the vanity for something clean the makeup off with. The maids had taken the towels from her bath and there was nothing on the table. She stood and made her way to the bathroom.
The room was dry but still smelled faintly of her bath. She made her way over to the single cabinet, built into the wall, pulling it open. Inside was a collection of towels. She shuffled through them for a moment before finding a small cloth.
She made her way back to the sink and turned on the faucet. She smiled as the water splashed into the basin. It always delighted her to hear the sound of running water when she used any sort of sink. It was one of the few sounds she could make. She pushed the wash cloth under water and the sound ended as the water splashed and ran through her fingers, ice cold but she didn't mind. She wiped at her face, cleaning the caked makeup off the cloth as she went. Her face felt drawn and dry when she finished but better. She turned off the water and left the room unbraiding her hair as she went.
She began in the back, untwisting the maids work braid by braid until her hair was a halo of heavy coiled curls around her head. She looked at herself in the mirror, her face clean, and her head thankful to be free of the painful braids.
Outside of her window the sun was disappearing over horizon.
Letting out a breath she walked over to the food that had been brought for her. She lifted the lid and found a meat dish. Wrinkling her nose at it she covered it again. Instead she nibbled on the fruit that had come with the meal. Her stomach was in knots and she thought the light fruit would be all she could handle.
After a few bites she gave up on it altogether and laid down on the bed. The sheets were cold and smooth under her fingers. The Lord of All Shadows is my husband, she thought attempting to convince herself, he saved me from being murdered and I am thankful.
She went over the events of the day in her mind, everything happened so quickly. But he had met her in the garden beforehand. Why did he do that? she thought turning onto her side. He had seemed very different in that moment than he was in the chamber with his brother. And then different again when he held her for that moment.
Perhaps my husband is not a monster. Maybe it's all just nightmare stories to scare children, she thought yawning.
She closed her eyes and drifted to sleep.
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The maid dumped a pail of near boiling water over Isilla's head. She shouted but the maids couldn't hear her, no one could. She gritted her teeth and bore the pain as they scrubbed at her. She had tried to speak with them but she could find nothing to write with and the women did not appear to be interested in communicating with her. The bath too hot bath water, soapy and heavy with some scent, turned her honey skin red.
The women who attended her were not noble. Even with her limited knowledge of life in the court, she was sure that these women were as common as she had been raised. They were older, hard women. Classless and mean with years of hardship and pain. Isilla felt no ill will towards them even as they tugged at the curls in her hair, attempting to brush them out. She had long since given up trying to stop them or convince them that she could wash herself.
The women chatted between themselves, each of them touching some part of her so they could hear one another, clearly versed, at least, on what she was. Isilla pulled her knees to her chest and squeezed her eyes shut as they tugged and pulled at her hair.
"Can you believe Prince Arren married this one?" one said.
Another made a dismissive noise deep in her throat, "There's no understanding royals, I tell you."
"A mute of all things! Whoever heard of a royal so afflicted?
"Well you know the Light Realm. All love and life," the woman had a mocking tone in her voice, "Here the little mute would have been drowned if she had been born to our King."
She hugged her knees tighter and the women laughed as they yanked at her hair.
The water had cooled to almost cold by the time the three women felt they had done enough. They pulled her up roughly and wrapped her in a soft towel.
They opened the door that lead out of the bathroom and into the bedroom ushering her out. One of them placed her on a stool in front of the vanity. The women puttered around behind her gathering underthings and clothing. She reached out and ran her fingers over the boxes that adorned the table. She opened one and gasped at its contents.
It was full of glittering jewelry. She opened the next and found the same. Silver with heavy emeralds. Gold chains with tiny rubies. She shut the boxes quickly before the maids came back for her.
One tsked at her sounding for all the world just like Haribit used to. A small wave of sadness crashed into her, shaking it off she stood and smiled at the women hoping that her friendly face would turn the woman gentler.
"Look at this hair! Curls right back up when it dries," she almost yelled back at her fellows. Isilla touched the still wet bits of her hair. The woman took another towel and begun to dry her hair, her strong squeezing out the water until all that was left was a slightly damp cloud of red curls.
She tsked again and began braiding it singing slightly to herself. The other two women were busy cleaning and drying the bathroom. In the mirror she could see as one left the bathroom with the dress she had come in in arms. She dropped it into the laundry.
Isilla closed her eyes, I will never see that dress again, she thought as the woman behind her twisted and braided her hair into submission. The braids pulled at her scalp.
"There," the maid said stepping back to admire her work. Isilla looked at her reflection. Her hair was twisted and piled on her head in much the same fashion that the ladies in the court had worn.
She frowned at her reflection and touched the braids gently.
"Let's get her dressed then so we can be done with this," the woman said. The other two nodded. They moved to help her into her under things but she quickly snatched them out of their hands and put them on herself. The women shrugged and handed her a thin shift sewn with light beading. She pulled on the nightgown before she turned to the mirror again and blushed. The thin fabric did not leave anything to the imagination. But then again, it was her wedding night.
One of them pulled a heavy purple robe over her shoulders.
"Now you make sure when the Prince comes you take that off," said the woman who had braided her hair.
She sat her back on the stool. The one who had taken her dress to the laundry began to put makeup on her. Red lipstick and blush. Powder and black liner for her eyes. "What do you think he'll do to her tonight?"
The third one laughed, "Same thing I imagine all men do to women on their wedding night. Don't be silly."
Isilla clutched the edges of her robe as they finished up their work. Of course, this is my wedding night, she thought as butterflies began to swoop and flutter in her stomach.
Someone entered the room. The smell of food filled her nostrils. She hadn't eaten since the morning when the set off on the last bit of the journey and it was now near evening. The prince, Arren, she thought letting his name sit in her thoughts, he said he would come for me in the evening.
She glanced out the window at the setting sun. It would be soon.
The women finished the cleaning from dressing her and turned down the bed. The one who had done her hair took a final look at her before leaving. The woman sighed and shook her head softly before leaving the room and shutting the door behind her.
Isilla turned back to the mirror and looked at herself. She touched her powdered cheek. The skin felt foreign to her. She looked different. The black lining her eyes made them seem huge and wide, the blush made her cheeks look too red. The powder turned her skin far paler then it had ever been.
I look like a lady of this court. But I'm not. Not really, she thought. She frowned and moved to wipe the makeup off with her sleeve but stopped. The heavy fabric of the robe was smooth and dark. I don't want to be a mess when he sees me again, she thought. Maybe I can make a better impression, she said to herself.
She looked around the vanity for something clean the makeup off with. The maids had taken the towels from her bath and there was nothing on the table. She stood and made her way to the bathroom.
The room was dry but still smelled faintly of her bath. She made her way over to the single cabinet, built into the wall, pulling it open. Inside was a collection of towels. She shuffled through them for a moment before finding a small cloth.
She made her way back to the sink and turned on the faucet. She smiled as the water splashed into the basin. It always delighted her to hear the sound of running water when she used any sort of sink. It was one of the few sounds she could make. She pushed the wash cloth under water and the sound ended as the water splashed and ran through her fingers, ice cold but she didn't mind. She wiped at her face, cleaning the caked makeup off the cloth as she went. Her face felt drawn and dry when she finished but better. She turned off the water and left the room unbraiding her hair as she went.
She began in the back, untwisting the maids work braid by braid until her hair was a halo of heavy coiled curls around her head. She looked at herself in the mirror, her face clean, and her head thankful to be free of the painful braids.
Outside of her window the sun was disappearing over horizon.
Letting out a breath she walked over to the food that had been brought for her. She lifted the lid and found a meat dish. Wrinkling her nose at it she covered it again. Instead she nibbled on the fruit that had come with the meal. Her stomach was in knots and she thought the light fruit would be all she could handle.
After a few bites she gave up on it altogether and laid down on the bed. The sheets were cold and smooth under her fingers. The Lord of All Shadows is my husband, she thought attempting to convince herself, he saved me from being murdered and I am thankful.
She went over the events of the day in her mind, everything happened so quickly. But he had met her in the garden beforehand. Why did he do that? she thought turning onto her side. He had seemed very different in that moment than he was in the chamber with his brother. And then different again when he held her for that moment.
Perhaps my husband is not a monster. Maybe it's all just nightmare stories to scare children, she thought yawning.
She closed her eyes and drifted to sleep.
The maid dumped a pail of near boiling water over Isilla's head. She shouted but the maids couldn't hear her, no one could. She gritted her teeth and bore the pain as they scrubbed at her. She had tried to speak with them but she could find nothing to write with and the women did not appear to be interested in communicating with her. The bath too hot bath water, soapy and heavy with some scent, turned her honey skin red.The women who attended her were not noble. Even with her limited knowledge of life in the court, she was sure that these women were as common as she had been raised. They were older, hard women. Classless and mean with years of hardship and pain. Isilla felt no ill will towards them even as they tugged at the curls in her hair, attempting to brush them out. She had long since given up trying to stop them or convince them that she could wash herself.The women chatted between themselves, each of them touching some part of her so they could hear one another, clearly versed, at least, on what she was. Isilla pulled her knees to her chest and squeezed her eyes shut as they tugged and pulled at her hair."Can you believe Prince Arren married this one?" one said.Another made a dismissive noise deep in her throat, "There's no understanding royals, I tell you.""A mute of all things! Whoever heard of a royal so afflicted?"Well you know the Light Realm. All love and life," the woman had a mocking tone in her voice, "Here the little mute would have been drowned if she had been born to our King."She hugged her knees tighter and the women laughed as they yanked at her hair.The water had cooled to almost cold by the time the three women felt they had done enough. They pulled her up roughly and wrapped her in a soft towel.They opened the door that lead out of the bathroom and into the bedroom ushering her out. One of them placed her on a stool in front of the vanity. The women puttered around behind her gathering underthings and clothing. She reached out and ran her fingers over the boxes that adorned the table. She opened one and gasped at its contents.It was full of glittering jewelry. She opened the next and found the same. Silver with heavy emeralds. Gold chains with tiny rubies. She shut the boxes quickly before the maids came back for her.One tsked at her sounding for all the world just like Haribit used to. A small wave of sadness crashed into her, shaking it off she stood and smiled at the women hoping that her friendly face would turn the woman gentler."Look at this hair! Curls right back up when it dries," she almost yelled back at her fellows. Isilla touched the still wet bits of her hair. The woman took another towel and begun to dry her hair, her strong squeezing out the water until all that was left was a slightly damp cloud of red curls.She tsked again and began braiding it singing slightly to herself. The other two women were busy cleaning and drying the bathroom. In the mirror she could see as one left the bathroom with the dress she had come in in arms. She dropped it into the laundry.Isilla closed her eyes, I will never see that dress again, she thought as the woman behind her twisted and braided her hair into submission. The braids pulled at her scalp."There," the maid said stepping back to admire her work. Isilla looked at her reflection. Her hair was twisted and piled on her head in much the same fashion that the ladies in the court had worn.She frowned at her reflection and touched the braids gently."Let's get her dressed then so we can be done with this," the woman said. The other two nodded. They moved to help her into her under things but she quickly snatched them out of their hands and put them on herself. The women shrugged and handed her a thin shift sewn with light beading. She pulled on the nightgown before she turned to the mirror again and blushed. The thin fabric did not leave anything to the imagination. But then again, it was her wedding night.One of them pulled a heavy purple robe over her shoulders."Now you make sure when the Prince comes you take that off," said the woman who had braided her hair.She sat her back on the stool. The one who had taken her dress to the laundry began to put makeup on her. Red lipstick and blush. Powder and black liner for her eyes. "What do you think he'll do to her tonight?"The third one laughed, "Same thing I imagine all men do to women on their wedding night. Don't be silly."Isilla clutched the edges of her robe as they finished up their work. Of course, this is my wedding night, she thought as butterflies began to swoop and flutter in her stomach.Someone entered the room. The smell of food filled her nostrils. She hadn't eaten since the morning when the set off on the last bit of the journey and it was now near evening. The prince, Arren, she thought letting his name sit in her thoughts, he said he would come for me in the evening.She glanced out the window at the setting sun. It would be soon.The women finished the cleaning from dressing her and turned down the bed. The one who had done her hair took a final look at her before leaving. The woman sighed and shook her head softly before leaving the room and shutting the door behind her.Isilla turned back to the mirror and looked at herself. She touched her powdered cheek. The skin felt foreign to her. She looked different. The black lining her eyes made them seem huge and wide, the blush made her cheeks look too red. The powder turned her skin far paler then it had ever been.I look like a lady of this court. But I'm not. Not really, she thought. She frowned and moved to wipe the makeup off with her sleeve but stopped. The heavy fabric of the robe was smooth and dark. I don't want to be a mess when he sees me again, she thought. Maybe I can make a better impression, she said to herself.She looked around the vanity for something clean the makeup off with. The maids had taken the towels from her bath and there was nothing on the table. She stood and made her way to the bathroom.The room was dry but still smelled faintly of her bath. She made her way over to the single cabinet, built into the wall, pulling it open. Inside was a collection of towels. She shuffled through them for a moment before finding a small cloth.She made her way back to the sink and turned on the faucet. She smiled as the water splashed into the basin. It always delighted her to hear the sound of running water when she used any sort of sink. It was one of the few sounds she could make. She pushed the wash cloth under water and the sound ended as the water splashed and ran through her fingers, ice cold but she didn't mind. She wiped at her face, cleaning the caked makeup off the cloth as she went. Her face felt drawn and dry when she finished but better. She turned off the water and left the room unbraiding her hair as she went.She began in the back, untwisting the maids work braid by braid until her hair was a halo of heavy coiled curls around her head. She looked at herself in the mirror, her face clean, and her head thankful to be free of the painful braids.Outside of her window the sun was disappearing over horizon.Letting out a breath she walked over to the food that had been brought for her. She lifted the lid and found a meat dish. Wrinkling her nose at it she covered it again. Instead she nibbled on the fruit that had come with the meal. Her stomach was in knots and she thought the light fruit would be all she could handle.After a few bites she gave up on it altogether and laid down on the bed. The sheets were cold and smooth under her fingers. The Lord of All Shadows is my husband, she thought attempting to convince herself, he saved me from being murdered and I am thankful.She went over the events of the day in her mind, everything happened so quickly. But he had met her in the garden beforehand. Why did he do that? she thought turning onto her side. He had seemed very different in that moment than he was in the chamber with his brother. And then different again when he held her for that moment.Perhaps my husband is not a monster. Maybe it's all just nightmare stories to scare children, she thought yawning.She closed her eyes and drifted to sleep.
