Page 8 of The Promise Born
“I’m Kiala, it's nice to me you…”
“Uradis.” She nodded tightly only glancing back over her shoulder for a moment.
“Uradis, that’s a pretty name.” I tried to make small talk, hoping the woman was softer than she appeared.
She smiled. “Thank you.”
We headed inside the palace, which was a blend of gothic and modern touches, the result of meshing generational shifts in taste. Some parts of the palace were dark, untouched, and covered in cobwebs. Yet others were bright, open, and full of greenery. It reminded me of my own home. Passed down through our family for so long that every person left their own unique touches.
As much as I hated to admit it, the prince’s home was beautiful. I could feel the love that someone had poured into every carving, every structure, every pillar we passed. But then there was this other air of sadness. An invisible blanket that covered the halls, the furniture and the people I saw passing by, and I knew what it was.
This place and these people were mourning.
Uradis spoke as she led me to my quarters, but I became distracted by the murmurs around us. They talked about the prince as if he was a mythical creature. I chewed my lip as a short woman referred to a prince who refused his duties and made his mother, the Queen, upset. The loudest voices came from ahead of us as we neared the doors to the room Uradis said belonged to me.
“I just don't understand how he could do this right now. There's only one thing she wants from him, and all he wants to do is sit out there and train those dragons for a competition they won’t win,” the voice of an older woman spoke.
“Well, the convergence games are important to him. You know that it's what his brother would have wanted,” another younger voice whispered.
“Are you saying his brother’s wants are more important than his mother’s?” The woman sounded personally offended by the concept.
“I don't think either one is,” the younger voice defended. “I think what matters is what he wants. But again, I wasn't born of royalty, so choices like that are up to me to make.”
“I guess it is a double-edged sword, isn't it?” the older woman spoke as we stopped outside the door.
Uradis looked at me and winked, letting the conversation continue. Her willingness to do so secretly pleased me. I wanted to know what the women truly thought.
“Indeed, it is.” The younger woman sounded like someone ready to end their day but forced to do more work. I was sure the old woman’s fussing made it worse for her.
“And now this woman from Clayhorn is coming.” The older woman continued to complain, now referring to me. “We're meant to prepare for her. We have no idea who she is, but she's taking up one of the best spots in the place.”
“Maybe the Queen will get what she wants after all.”
“I doubt it.” The older voice scoffed. “From what I've heard, this woman doesn't even want to be here. She's the one who makes those delicious treats. But since our chefs haven’t been able to replicate them, she's supposed to be here to do it herself”
“He complains of not having the ability to choose for himself. And now he's doing the same to her.” The younger voice scoffed.
“While that may be a valid sentiment, it’s best you not let anyone else hear you speak on it.” The older voice gave the stern warning.
Uradis had heard enough of the conversation and chose that moment to push the cracked door open. The tired, rusted hinges sang their woes and announced our arrival. She cleared her voice and eyed the women who held onto their whispered conversation. The woman with gray hair and green eyes nearly jumped out of her skin and dropped the folded blankets she carried.
The younger woman covered her mouth with her hand, trying to hold back laughter. She was embarrassed but had clearly been careful in the way she spoke in case someone overheard them. The older woman was not as smart.
“I thought this chore was done already,” Uradis addressed them.
“Oh, yes.” The older woman nodded. “We’re done, just adding some final touches. I'm sorry. We'll go now.”
“Gossiping wenches,” Uradis muttered after the two left the room.
“Excuse me?” I acted shocked to hear her say that, but after she let me overhear what they were saying, how could I be? I stepped quietly into the room and glanced around at my new “home”.
“My apologies. I just hate to hear people talking about things they know nothing about. They should be smart enough to understand how complicated all of this is. For the queen, the prince, and now for you. It's easy to stand aside and make such judgments when your life isn’t being upturned.”
“It’s okay.” I looked around the room before turning back to her. “You know they're not all that wrong, anyway. At least about me.”
“You didn't volunteer to be here?” She chuckled. “You mean to tell me this wasn’t your dream?”
“No, not at all.” I shrugged. “But what the prince wants, the prince gets, right?”
