Chapter 65
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Usoa woke up slowly, as she always did. Dreamweavers were made for sleeping. The cat opened one gold eye, staring in her direction before curling back in on itself, pressing its thin back against Usoa's belly as if to tell her to stay, that the morning had come too soon.
Soon or not, it had come. The sun streamed in through her window casting blue and pink light from the colored window across the bed. She yawned and pulled her pillow under her head, her thoughts straying over what she had seen and heard inside of the dreaming. The prince is strange, she thought drawing up the image of him carving symbols in the wet sand. But stranger still, he was so lucid, she hummed. He must have been close to a darkteller, she mused. Her brother, after years of playing in the Veil with her as a child had learned to be in some control while he slept. She supposed that it happened with others as well. So maybe not so strange, she hummed, sleep creeping back over her, begging her to fall back into its hold.
"Usoa!" Iztar yelled a moment before she came barreling into the room, throwing herself onto the bed and scaring the cat. "Get up! Get up! Get up!"
Usoa shot straight up in the bed, all ideas of sleep chased away by the bouncing child in her bed.
Stop dashing and jumping everywhere like a little messenger child, she signed as she pulled herself up and the girl fell to the mattress, the child's excitement nearly overflowing. You should start taking your lessons more seriously, you're growing up, she scolded.
"Did you? Brother says that you and and him used to run around tricking the maids all the time," her eyes were wide and hopeful, begging for a story.
Usoa chuckled. You're right but you can be better than I was, she signed, ignoring her silent request for entertainment. Why are you here so early.
Iztar snorted. "Early? You never know how late you're sleeping! Breakfast is almost done. Your mama is waiting to eat with you."
Did she tell you to come here?
The child shook her head, dark curls swinging across her face, "No I saw her when I came looking for you. Papa says that you have to be at the fields today. There's going to be a game! Can you take me too?"
Ah, the real reason, Usoa smiled and smoothed the child's curls. It's boring. Only Edur and Papa like those sorts of things. It's for the men to show off, she explained. You'll have more fun if you stay and play with Zorion. You can play tricks on the maids in the nursery with him, she signed, the idea making the girl laugh.
Tell mama that I'll be along soon. I have to get dressed, Usoa signed before pushing the child from her bed and then shooing her out of the door. Her mother would understand that it meant she should eat and have a second breakfast sat out for her in hour or so. A game called for formal dress.
Growling to herself she turned back to her bedroom and opened her chest of clothes, pouring over the gowns. She had been to games before, of course. They were long, boring affairs. Her older brother loved them and often played but she only attended when there was a visiting diplomat from another city or, even more exciting, another land altogether. These were a treat where the visitors and her father would talk for hours and she, his favorite daughter and a dreamweaver, would be allowed to sit and listen. Porras often came as well to sing and play music during the breaks but Esti, she realized as she lifted a golden gown from the chest, so light and airy it seemed to be spun from sunlight, had never been called.
This will be her first time, she thought as she chuckled, she'll be so bored!
But with that in mind she put the gold dress back, it would be too much and she could do nothing to show the girl up, that wouldn't be proper. Instead she reached for a more muted color. Something that wouldn't make the young princess seem younger in comparison.
She settled on an opal colored gown with a loose neck and sleeves that draped to the ground, exposing her shoulders. As light as the last one had been, this one would shimmer, ever so slightly when she moved but, as she would be sitting for a great deal of the time, the effect would be wasted. Her dress chosen, she changed into a bathing gown and left her apartment, quickly making her way through the short halls to the shared bath.
She peeked her head in first to find it empty. The pool of water still over its green tiles. The light from the high windows came in clear and strong, making the greens flash emerald, jade, and aqua. She sighed and stepped inside. The bathing room was small, meant for just the members of the garden and in the morning and evening would be packed with women and children but now, in the quiet of mid-morning, the waters were still. Which meant that Usoa could avoid having to play party to any gossip about the new arrivals.
Or reminders that she would be departing soon.
She chased the thought away as she pulled off her dress and slid into the lukewarm water that reached a little above her waist. She rubbed the grainy soap on her skin, small suds forming that quickly disappeared in the gently cycling water. Careful not to wet her hair, she scrubbed her face and neck until the skin felt taunt and clean. Rinsing, she stepped out and dried.
Donning her gown again, a gong sounded. The sound distant but the mark of the coming games. There would be little time for breakfast at the rate she moved. She hurried from the bathing room and back to her apartments. She oiled her skin and then turned her attention to her hair. She combed them and twisted them, piling them into thick braids that she held back with a comb made of some white stone that shimmered like her dress.
She paused, touching her bare throat but decided against jewelry instead taking a moment to add some color to her lips and cheeks, darkening her with a makeup stick. Despite her care, she knew that she would be next to invisible at the event. Esti would not doubt be covered in rich jewels and a much finer dress and all of the light-wielders would have covered their own gowns with fantastic effects, none of which she could accomplish.
Finished and nearly out of time, she rushed to meet her mother. I hope she had food brought for me, she prayed as she dashed through the jewel colored halls, servants looking up as they felt the air of her passage.
She dashed into their dining area to find her mother watching Iztar and Zorion playing at her feet while a servant fanned her gently. Food sat across the table. Fruits, breads and a covered dish that Usoa was sure would contain some sweet cereal. Just enough for one.
Her mother smiled as she settled in front of the small meal. "Iztar, daughter of my heart, will you take Zorion for a while?"
The girl blushed at the affection. Despite Euria's annoyance with their mother, she had a soft spot for the children of the third wife and treated them as her own. Iztar took Zorion's hand and led him out of the room happily, chatting along the way. Usoa was sure that the girl filled his head with schemes and tricks but it would be no worse than what she and her own bother had gotten up to in their childhood.
Her mother waved the servant away as she began to eat. She dipped the bread in the cereal and chewed contently. It would be hours before they were allowed to eat something substantial, her next full meal would be the feast. Only a light lunch would be served between whatever she had now and then.
"I see you are not wearing a scarf today," her mother said causally, her dark eyes betraying the seriousness of the statement. "Are you afraid it will be taken again?"
A hot blush ran to her cheeks as she put the bread down. No mother, she signed, it didn't go with my dress. She plucked a piece of fruit from the tray and slipped it into her mouth hoping that her false obtuseness would be enough to turn the woman away from the conversation she had broached.
It was not.
"The shadow-wielder, the servants said that he returned your scarf and whispered sweet nothings in your ear while he did so," she leaned onto the cushions, propping her face up with her palm, as if what she spoke of was only a child's love affair like her her time with Ferran or her brother's affection for the serving girl.
He said the color did not suit me, she admitted. It meant nothing, he was only tying it on me after having taken it.
"This is a dangerous thing!" her mother snapped, dropping all pretense. "You are my smart and sweet daughter! I expect these games from Ochoa but not you! Do you have any idea what you're playing at? Do you know what damage you could do?"
She shook her head. I'm not playing at anything! Father sent me to serve him tea and returned my scarf. The servants are gossips and storytellers! Her hands moved quickly, proclaiming her innocence.
"Then let me tell you what stories they tell, blood of my blood," she hissed. "They say that the Prince has eyes on you, not Esti! They say that you charmed him in your sleep and mean to take the Dark throne."
None of that is true, she shook her head, explaining. I saw him because Esti asked. I didn't do anything.
Her mother frowned for a moment, the eyes under anger knit brows focused on her eldest daughter. Usoa could feel the fire from the gaze and she looked down, twisting her hands together.
"By the dreaming! You children will be my death!" Usoa looked up to see her mother's face gentled, her body leaving forward as if the next words she was set to say were secret. "You must not be trapped by that prince. Do you understand? Let him take Esti and keep her but you, you are meant to come back home to me."
I am meant to serve the Sorgia, she floundered, confused.
Her mother reached forward, patting her hand. "Eat your food. When Esti is settled, you will come back home. That has always been the plan. So do not let yourself be wrapped up in the whims of a prince who likes pretty things. I have heard of how he glares at the serving girls."
She nodded and returned to her food, eating quickly as she thought. Does it matter, she mused to herself, those girls they brought will not be going home, no matter which one my brother chose.
"How?" she asked, the single word small enough to read on her lips.
Her mother smiled, "You will not be needed once they have their Sorgia. We'll send someone to care for the girl in your stead. This is a formality."
That is not how it has been, she replied, her face pursed in confusion.
Her mother smiled wide, "We are royalty, we have the power of the Dreaming, We make our own way, blood of my blood. Now eat or else you will collapse of starvation before the games are even close to ending."
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Usoa woke up slowly, as she always did. Dreamweavers were made for sleeping. The cat opened one gold eye, staring in her direction before curling back in on itself, pressing its thin back against Usoa's belly as if to tell her to stay, that the morning had come too soon.
Soon or not, it had come. The sun streamed in through her window casting blue and pink light from the colored window across the bed. She yawned and pulled her pillow under her head, her thoughts straying over what she had seen and heard inside of the dreaming. The prince is strange, she thought drawing up the image of him carving symbols in the wet sand. But stranger still, he was so lucid, she hummed. He must have been close to a darkteller, she mused. Her brother, after years of playing in the Veil with her as a child had learned to be in some control while he slept. She supposed that it happened with others as well. So maybe not so strange, she hummed, sleep creeping back over her, begging her to fall back into its hold.
"Usoa!" Iztar yelled a moment before she came barreling into the room, throwing herself onto the bed and scaring the cat. "Get up! Get up! Get up!"
Usoa shot straight up in the bed, all ideas of sleep chased away by the bouncing child in her bed.
Stop dashing and jumping everywhere like a little messenger child, she signed as she pulled herself up and the girl fell to the mattress, the child's excitement nearly overflowing. You should start taking your lessons more seriously, you're growing up, she scolded.
"Did you? Brother says that you and and him used to run around tricking the maids all the time," her eyes were wide and hopeful, begging for a story.
Usoa chuckled. You're right but you can be better than I was, she signed, ignoring her silent request for entertainment. Why are you here so early.
Iztar snorted. "Early? You never know how late you're sleeping! Breakfast is almost done. Your mama is waiting to eat with you."
Did she tell you to come here?
The child shook her head, dark curls swinging across her face, "No I saw her when I came looking for you. Papa says that you have to be at the fields today. There's going to be a game! Can you take me too?"
Ah, the real reason, Usoa smiled and smoothed the child's curls. It's boring. Only Edur and Papa like those sorts of things. It's for the men to show off, she explained. You'll have more fun if you stay and play with Zorion. You can play tricks on the maids in the nursery with him, she signed, the idea making the girl laugh.
Tell mama that I'll be along soon. I have to get dressed, Usoa signed before pushing the child from her bed and then shooing her out of the door. Her mother would understand that it meant she should eat and have a second breakfast sat out for her in hour or so. A game called for formal dress.
Growling to herself she turned back to her bedroom and opened her chest of clothes, pouring over the gowns. She had been to games before, of course. They were long, boring affairs. Her older brother loved them and often played but she only attended when there was a visiting diplomat from another city or, even more exciting, another land altogether. These were a treat where the visitors and her father would talk for hours and she, his favorite daughter and a dreamweaver, would be allowed to sit and listen. Porras often came as well to sing and play music during the breaks but Esti, she realized as she lifted a golden gown from the chest, so light and airy it seemed to be spun from sunlight, had never been called.
This will be her first time, she thought as she chuckled, she'll be so bored!
But with that in mind she put the gold dress back, it would be too much and she could do nothing to show the girl up, that wouldn't be proper. Instead she reached for a more muted color. Something that wouldn't make the young princess seem younger in comparison.
She settled on an opal colored gown with a loose neck and sleeves that draped to the ground, exposing her shoulders. As light as the last one had been, this one would shimmer, ever so slightly when she moved but, as she would be sitting for a great deal of the time, the effect would be wasted. Her dress chosen, she changed into a bathing gown and left her apartment, quickly making her way through the short halls to the shared bath.
She peeked her head in first to find it empty. The pool of water still over its green tiles. The light from the high windows came in clear and strong, making the greens flash emerald, jade, and aqua. She sighed and stepped inside. The bathing room was small, meant for just the members of the garden and in the morning and evening would be packed with women and children but now, in the quiet of mid-morning, the waters were still. Which meant that Usoa could avoid having to play party to any gossip about the new arrivals.
Or reminders that she would be departing soon.
She chased the thought away as she pulled off her dress and slid into the lukewarm water that reached a little above her waist. She rubbed the grainy soap on her skin, small suds forming that quickly disappeared in the gently cycling water. Careful not to wet her hair, she scrubbed her face and neck until the skin felt taunt and clean. Rinsing, she stepped out and dried.
Donning her gown again, a gong sounded. The sound distant but the mark of the coming games. There would be little time for breakfast at the rate she moved. She hurried from the bathing room and back to her apartments. She oiled her skin and then turned her attention to her hair. She combed them and twisted them, piling them into thick braids that she held back with a comb made of some white stone that shimmered like her dress.
She paused, touching her bare throat but decided against jewelry instead taking a moment to add some color to her lips and cheeks, darkening her with a makeup stick. Despite her care, she knew that she would be next to invisible at the event. Esti would not doubt be covered in rich jewels and a much finer dress and all of the light-wielders would have covered their own gowns with fantastic effects, none of which she could accomplish.
Finished and nearly out of time, she rushed to meet her mother. I hope she had food brought for me, she prayed as she dashed through the jewel colored halls, servants looking up as they felt the air of her passage.
She dashed into their dining area to find her mother watching Iztar and Zorion playing at her feet while a servant fanned her gently. Food sat across the table. Fruits, breads and a covered dish that Usoa was sure would contain some sweet cereal. Just enough for one.
Her mother smiled as she settled in front of the small meal. "Iztar, daughter of my heart, will you take Zorion for a while?"
The girl blushed at the affection. Despite Euria's annoyance with their mother, she had a soft spot for the children of the third wife and treated them as her own. Iztar took Zorion's hand and led him out of the room happily, chatting along the way. Usoa was sure that the girl filled his head with schemes and tricks but it would be no worse than what she and her own bother had gotten up to in their childhood.
Her mother waved the servant away as she began to eat. She dipped the bread in the cereal and chewed contently. It would be hours before they were allowed to eat something substantial, her next full meal would be the feast. Only a light lunch would be served between whatever she had now and then.
"I see you are not wearing a scarf today," her mother said causally, her dark eyes betraying the seriousness of the statement. "Are you afraid it will be taken again?"
A hot blush ran to her cheeks as she put the bread down. No mother, she signed, it didn't go with my dress. She plucked a piece of fruit from the tray and slipped it into her mouth hoping that her false obtuseness would be enough to turn the woman away from the conversation she had broached.
It was not.
"The shadow-wielder, the servants said that he returned your scarf and whispered sweet nothings in your ear while he did so," she leaned onto the cushions, propping her face up with her palm, as if what she spoke of was only a child's love affair like her her time with Ferran or her brother's affection for the serving girl.
He said the color did not suit me, she admitted. It meant nothing, he was only tying it on me after having taken it.
"This is a dangerous thing!" her mother snapped, dropping all pretense. "You are my smart and sweet daughter! I expect these games from Ochoa but not you! Do you have any idea what you're playing at? Do you know what damage you could do?"
She shook her head. I'm not playing at anything! Father sent me to serve him tea and returned my scarf. The servants are gossips and storytellers! Her hands moved quickly, proclaiming her innocence.
"Then let me tell you what stories they tell, blood of my blood," she hissed. "They say that the Prince has eyes on you, not Esti! They say that you charmed him in your sleep and mean to take the Dark throne."
None of that is true, she shook her head, explaining. I saw him because Esti asked. I didn't do anything.
Her mother frowned for a moment, the eyes under anger knit brows focused on her eldest daughter. Usoa could feel the fire from the gaze and she looked down, twisting her hands together.
"By the dreaming! You children will be my death!" Usoa looked up to see her mother's face gentled, her body leaving forward as if the next words she was set to say were secret. "You must not be trapped by that prince. Do you understand? Let him take Esti and keep her but you, you are meant to come back home to me."
I am meant to serve the Sorgia, she floundered, confused.
Her mother reached forward, patting her hand. "Eat your food. When Esti is settled, you will come back home. That has always been the plan. So do not let yourself be wrapped up in the whims of a prince who likes pretty things. I have heard of how he glares at the serving girls."
She nodded and returned to her food, eating quickly as she thought. Does it matter, she mused to herself, those girls they brought will not be going home, no matter which one my brother chose.
"How?" she asked, the single word small enough to read on her lips.
Her mother smiled, "You will not be needed once they have their Sorgia. We'll send someone to care for the girl in your stead. This is a formality."
That is not how it has been, she replied, her face pursed in confusion.
Her mother smiled wide, "We are royalty, we have the power of the Dreaming, We make our own way, blood of my blood. Now eat or else you will collapse of starvation before the games are even close to ending."
Usoa woke up slowly, as she always did. Dreamweavers were made for sleeping. The cat opened one gold eye, staring in her direction before curling back in on itself, pressing its thin back against Usoa's belly as if to tell her to stay, that the morning had come too soon.Soon or not, it had come. The sun streamed in through her window casting blue and pink light from the colored window across the bed. She yawned and pulled her pillow under her head, her thoughts straying over what she had seen and heard inside of the dreaming. The prince is strange, she thought drawing up the image of him carving symbols in the wet sand. But stranger still, he was so lucid, she hummed. He must have been close to a darkteller, she mused. Her brother, after years of playing in the Veil with her as a child had learned to be in some control while he slept. She supposed that it happened with others as well. So maybe not so strange, she hummed, sleep creeping back over her, begging her to fall back into its hold."Usoa!" Iztar yelled a moment before she came barreling into the room, throwing herself onto the bed and scaring the cat. "Get up! Get up! Get up!"Usoa shot straight up in the bed, all ideas of sleep chased away by the bouncing child in her bed.Stop dashing and jumping everywhere like a little messenger child, she signed as she pulled herself up and the girl fell to the mattress, the child's excitement nearly overflowing. You should start taking your lessons more seriously, you're growing up, she scolded."Did you? Brother says that you and and him used to run around tricking the maids all the time," her eyes were wide and hopeful, begging for a story.Usoa chuckled. You're right but you can be better than I was, she signed, ignoring her silent request for entertainment. Why are you here so early.Iztar snorted. "Early? You never know how late you're sleeping! Breakfast is almost done. Your mama is waiting to eat with you."Did she tell you to come here?The child shook her head, dark curls swinging across her face, "No I saw her when I came looking for you. Papa says that you have to be at the fields today. There's going to be a game! Can you take me too?"Ah, the real reason, Usoa smiled and smoothed the child's curls. It's boring. Only Edur and Papa like those sorts of things. It's for the men to show off, she explained. You'll have more fun if you stay and play with Zorion. You can play tricks on the maids in the nursery with him, she signed, the idea making the girl laugh.Tell mama that I'll be along soon. I have to get dressed, Usoa signed before pushing the child from her bed and then shooing her out of the door. Her mother would understand that it meant she should eat and have a second breakfast sat out for her in hour or so. A game called for formal dress.Growling to herself she turned back to her bedroom and opened her chest of clothes, pouring over the gowns. She had been to games before, of course. They were long, boring affairs. Her older brother loved them and often played but she only attended when there was a visiting diplomat from another city or, even more exciting, another land altogether. These were a treat where the visitors and her father would talk for hours and she, his favorite daughter and a dreamweaver, would be allowed to sit and listen. Porras often came as well to sing and play music during the breaks but Esti, she realized as she lifted a golden gown from the chest, so light and airy it seemed to be spun from sunlight, had never been called.This will be her first time, she thought as she chuckled, she'll be so bored!But with that in mind she put the gold dress back, it would be too much and she could do nothing to show the girl up, that wouldn't be proper. Instead she reached for a more muted color. Something that wouldn't make the young princess seem younger in comparison.She settled on an opal colored gown with a loose neck and sleeves that draped to the ground, exposing her shoulders. As light as the last one had been, this one would shimmer, ever so slightly when she moved but, as she would be sitting for a great deal of the time, the effect would be wasted. Her dress chosen, she changed into a bathing gown and left her apartment, quickly making her way through the short halls to the shared bath.She peeked her head in first to find it empty. The pool of water still over its green tiles. The light from the high windows came in clear and strong, making the greens flash emerald, jade, and aqua. She sighed and stepped inside. The bathing room was small, meant for just the members of the garden and in the morning and evening would be packed with women and children but now, in the quiet of mid-morning, the waters were still. Which meant that Usoa could avoid having to play party to any gossip about the new arrivals.Or reminders that she would be departing soon.She chased the thought away as she pulled off her dress and slid into the lukewarm water that reached a little above her waist. She rubbed the grainy soap on her skin, small suds forming that quickly disappeared in the gently cycling water. Careful not to wet her hair, she scrubbed her face and neck until the skin felt taunt and clean. Rinsing, she stepped out and dried.Donning her gown again, a gong sounded. The sound distant but the mark of the coming games. There would be little time for breakfast at the rate she moved. She hurried from the bathing room and back to her apartments. She oiled her skin and then turned her attention to her hair. She combed them and twisted them, piling them into thick braids that she held back with a comb made of some white stone that shimmered like her dress.She paused, touching her bare throat but decided against jewelry instead taking a moment to add some color to her lips and cheeks, darkening her with a makeup stick. Despite her care, she knew that she would be next to invisible at the event. Esti would not doubt be covered in rich jewels and a much finer dress and all of the light-wielders would have covered their own gowns with fantastic effects, none of which she could accomplish.Finished and nearly out of time, she rushed to meet her mother. I hope she had food brought for me, she prayed as she dashed through the jewel colored halls, servants looking up as they felt the air of her passage.She dashed into their dining area to find her mother watching Iztar and Zorion playing at her feet while a servant fanned her gently. Food sat across the table. Fruits, breads and a covered dish that Usoa was sure would contain some sweet cereal. Just enough for one.Her mother smiled as she settled in front of the small meal. "Iztar, daughter of my heart, will you take Zorion for a while?"The girl blushed at the affection. Despite Euria's annoyance with their mother, she had a soft spot for the children of the third wife and treated them as her own. Iztar took Zorion's hand and led him out of the room happily, chatting along the way. Usoa was sure that the girl filled his head with schemes and tricks but it would be no worse than what she and her own bother had gotten up to in their childhood.Her mother waved the servant away as she began to eat. She dipped the bread in the cereal and chewed contently. It would be hours before they were allowed to eat something substantial, her next full meal would be the feast. Only a light lunch would be served between whatever she had now and then."I see you are not wearing a scarf today," her mother said causally, her dark eyes betraying the seriousness of the statement. "Are you afraid it will be taken again?"A hot blush ran to her cheeks as she put the bread down. No mother, she signed, it didn't go with my dress. She plucked a piece of fruit from the tray and slipped it into her mouth hoping that her false obtuseness would be enough to turn the woman away from the conversation she had broached.It was not."The shadow-wielder, the servants said that he returned your scarf and whispered sweet nothings in your ear while he did so," she leaned onto the cushions, propping her face up with her palm, as if what she spoke of was only a child's love affair like her her time with Ferran or her brother's affection for the serving girl.He said the color did not suit me, she admitted. It meant nothing, he was only tying it on me after having taken it."This is a dangerous thing!" her mother snapped, dropping all pretense. "You are my smart and sweet daughter! I expect these games from Ochoa but not you! Do you have any idea what you're playing at? Do you know what damage you could do?"She shook her head. I'm not playing at anything! Father sent me to serve him tea and returned my scarf. The servants are gossips and storytellers! Her hands moved quickly, proclaiming her innocence."Then let me tell you what stories they tell, blood of my blood," she hissed. "They say that the Prince has eyes on you, not Esti! They say that you charmed him in your sleep and mean to take the Dark throne."None of that is true, she shook her head, explaining. I saw him because Esti asked. I didn't do anything.Her mother frowned for a moment, the eyes under anger knit brows focused on her eldest daughter. Usoa could feel the fire from the gaze and she looked down, twisting her hands together."By the dreaming! You children will be my death!" Usoa looked up to see her mother's face gentled, her body leaving forward as if the next words she was set to say were secret. "You must not be trapped by that prince. Do you understand? Let him take Esti and keep her but you, you are meant to come back home to me."I am meant to serve the Sorgia, she floundered, confused.Her mother reached forward, patting her hand. "Eat your food. When Esti is settled, you will come back home. That has always been the plan. So do not let yourself be wrapped up in the whims of a prince who likes pretty things. I have heard of how he glares at the serving girls."She nodded and returned to her food, eating quickly as she thought. Does it matter, she mused to herself, those girls they brought will not be going home, no matter which one my brother chose."How?" she asked, the single word small enough to read on her lips.Her mother smiled, "You will not be needed once they have their Sorgia. We'll send someone to care for the girl in your stead. This is a formality."That is not how it has been, she replied, her face pursed in confusion.Her mother smiled wide, "We are royalty, we have the power of the Dreaming, We make our own way, blood of my blood. Now eat or else you will collapse of starvation before the games are even close to ending."
