The Twilight Affair (Part Two)

           

IV. (cont'd)

           The next morning a hush fell across the prison as two women entered. They were escorted by four guards. The older woman appeared to posses the authority of the group. She stepped inside Julia’s cell and gave each person inside a hasty, yet incredibly scrutinizing look. Julia and another woman were pulled aside, as well as the physician and scholar. She went and did the same with the other cell of new Caliscan prisoners, frowning at the condition of the people inside. There were no women in that cell and she selected only one man. The guards began to round up the remainder. 
         “Well? Come on now!” the older woman snapped to her group. They were lead up the staircase where they were left with her female attendant and another man. The attendant turned to the group, speaking plainly.
         “Madam has sent to have you washed and clothed before she will address you properly.”
         “Where are the others?!” the physician demanded, stepping forward to the diminutive woman. The guard stepped between them, ready to beat the man back into submission, but the woman put a hand on the guard’s arm.
         “They are being assigned strictly labor. It is really none of your concern. You three men please follow him,” she motioned to the guard who was still scowling at he physician. “You two women, come with me.”          
         Julia and Veronique (the woman who had been sequestered to guide one of the battalions) followed the attendant to a room with a single bath, and several wardrobes and trunks. The attended heaved open one of the trunks and pulled out two tan cotton dresses, laying them on the lid.
         “Wash quickly. There is a comb in the left wardrobe. I will be back shortly.” Veronique hastily undressed and stepped in to the tub. Julia found worn but dry towels in one of the wardrobes. When Veronique finished, Julia too untied herself from the Caliscan gown, and stepped into the water. She scrubbed furiously, having not had the opportunity in days. At the same time she felt as though she were washing away the last Caliscan bits for her, at least enough for her to appease a Danegan.
          The moment she felt as though she might just be able to feel clean again she got out, combing her wet hair and drying off quickly. The robe was very plain and rough against her skin, but she was thankful to be wearing clean clothing for the first time in four days.  Not a moment after she had finished putting the last pin in her hair, the attendant bust through the door, keys clenched tightly in her small hands.
         “Madam will not wait.”she said coarsely, as if they even knew exactly who this woman was that they were supposed to hold in such esteem. In fact, ‘madam’ did not wait and, pushing her attendant aside, began speaking.
         “You have been designated prisoners of Daneg and any freedom in the sense you previously knew it, has been forfeited. You will act to serve His Royal Highness, King Sebastian Rosv, or be sentenced to death for high treason.
         “You.” she pointed to Veronique. “You will work in the kitchens. Marie bring her to the kitchen and Autel can deal with her. You.” the woman now looked directly a Julia. “You worked in orchards, no? You can carry heavier things than most girls?” Oh no.
         “Um, milady I-” Julia stammered.
         “None the less you’re a quarter servant. You will be shown what to do immediately.” The woman led her up a flight of stairs, opened a door, and ushered her briskly inside. “Annabel will tell you. Good day Annabel.”          
         “Good day, Margaret.”
         The door shut behind her. Annabel was a young woman perhaps five years older than herself. She had pretty dark brown hair and warm skin. Her lips smiled, but her eyes were skeptical. Julia curtsied politely.
         “What is your name?” she asked.
         “Julia deLiselle.” she said. The woman took a moment, absorbing what she had said. Julia noticed that even upper-tier servant women wore well tailored dresses, simple yet structured on the top and thick and boisterous on the bottom. Julia was beginning to understand the Danegan court to be stricter and even traditional, in a sense.
         “Your job is to attend to the court. Bring them food, attend to their chambers, run errands for them. Some evenings you must draw the baths. To run the baths the cool water is heated until it bubbles, and then it is cooled to a manageable temperature. It is then poured through a small aqueduct system which leads to the baths. Some of the gentry receive a private bath, in which case the water is drawn, and then carried in buckets to their respective chambers and a tub filled for them. There are also several oils and solutions that are mixed for the Bath, and must be available for private baths as well. It is not complicated, though nor is it easy, and your expected to fulfill your duties in an acceptable manner.”
         “Yes, ma’am.” Julia answered.
         “You hair must be pulled up, at all times.” Annabel guided Julia to a seat and stood behind her, combining Julia’s long hair. “Is that common in Calisca? For woman to wear their hair loose?”
         Julia paused for a moment. “Yes, any woman accept one of noble birth or a woman who is aged or widowed.” Annabel nodded slowly. She began to twist Julia’s hair, holding up with one hand while her other grasped for pins on a bureau. 
         “When did you arrive in Daneg? Thursday?” Annabel pushed a pin through her hair, until it was uncomfortable.
         “Late Wednesday evening.” Another pin slid in, uncompromising.
         “You road alone with m. Gerald- Lucian?” She had stopped mid application of a pin.
         “Yes, I am most grateful for him.”
         “Oh?” Annabel said, trying her best to sound disinterested, but mostly sounding crestfallen.
         “The other soldiers... Rienier... I do not know what would have happened. Lucian seemed like a good man.” Julia paused. “Oh, you are Annabel. He inquired about you before having hardly taken his feet from the stirrups. Did you wait for him that evening?”
         Annabel nodded, bitting her lip, eyes moist from relief. Julia smiled kindly. Annabel fixed the rest of the pins less harshly, and Julia felt the great change of  no longer having the veil of locks against her neck.
         For the next hour or so Annabel took Julia through out the castle. Julia learned that the upper floors were for higher members of the nobility, different towers for different visiting lords, and the Keep was exclusively for the King and his immediate attendants. The east side of the castle was primarily for servants that resided inside the castle, as well as the kitchens and other areas.
         Annabel showed Julia what would be her bedroom, a room off of a narrow passage. It was small, only large enough to fit a small bed and the door as it opened. Julia nodded and Annabel shut the door. The two women walked down the corridor.          
         “It is nearly dinner, I have work to attend to, go down to the baths and just refresh the waters, Hannah will be down later and tell you what more must be done.” Annabel said, and then left Julia alone in the empty corridor to begin her servitude under His Royal Highness King Sebastian Rosv.

         Margaret reached the top of the staircase, her face flushed from the long ascension. She flattened her dress, and knocked twice on one of the doors before her before opening one and entering. She went to the gold embellished bureau,  poured a cup of tea, and took it to the bedside. She slowly brought it to the lips of the man that lay in bed.
         The man took a short sip before drawing away. He looked well, his face full of its natural color, his body retaining its youthful muscle tone. He had dark hair that was cut in a mature fashion. Though the characteristic that most were intrigued by were his light green eyes which flashed with life at even the smallest amusement.
         “What would do you wish for dinner this evening, your highness.”
         “I am not hungry, please.”
         “Your highness, you must eat. The physicians they are concerned, more concerned than you would seem-”
         “Madam I do not take such a condition lightly, make no mistake.” his hand had taken her wrist. His voice had become grave and his eyes colder. She slowly took his hand from her, replacing it back on the bed.
         “I did not mean to insinuate anything of the nature, sir, please forgive me. You may be interested to hear they have found another physician, but he is a Caliscan.” The man’s eyes were momentarily hopeful, before he restrained himself once more.
         “I trust you are a good judge of character. If there is the possibility he may avail my malady then do send for him.”
         “I shall, my lord.” Margaret said standing up. “What would you eat for dinner?”
         “Turkey.” he conceded. She smiled, but long after she had gone the look of pity in her eyes lingered.


   

V.

         Julia awoke with a shudder, as the door thundered beneath a violent knock. She stumbled to the door, her eyes still adjusting, and pulled it open. A messenger stood there,
         “Lady Hathaway requires assistance.” and he was gone. Julia combed her hair, but having no mirror she ran her hands over it, hoping it looked well enough. She laced up the waist of her tan dress, and hurried out of the room. She had a key ring, but only the key to her door on it, and she used to lock the room behind her. Julia navigated the many long and winding halls while trying to maintain her composure. The evening before she had only worked at the baths before being dismissed. Now she was sent to attend to a noble, and she imagined cold critical eyes examining her. More so, she would be more likely to brush arms with the same people looking for her, and that was what she feared most. 
         She found the doorway and rapped twice, then entered. Inside a woman sat at her mirror. She caught Julia’s reflection and spoke,
         “I need my gown pressed and then laced. I would also like some tea.”
         “Do you take sugar or lemon, milady?”
         “Lemon.” Julia left and brought the tea first. She took the immaculate canary gown from the chair and went swiftly down the stairs to press it. After she was satisfied she brought it back to the room. Lady Hathaway had nearly finished her tear. The woman stood as Julia bought the dress to her, stepping away from the chair, as she did she looked Julia up and down. Julia ignored her prepared the dress. Lady Hathaway held her hands above her head and Julia slipped the canary gown over her, pulling the hem to the ground. She straightened the many layers and then fixed the sleeves at the appropriate place on the woman’s shoulders. Lady Hathaway slightly shifted the dress to her preference and then set her arms at her sides indicated she was ready to have it tied. Julia pulled the laces from the bottom and began to pull them. She drew the strings in tightly, and did so until tying the ribbons in a bow. The woman admired Julia’s work, and herself in the mirror before deciding she was content. Julia went to the bed and made the satin blankets up, smoothing them across the bed. She then went to take the tea cup away,
         “Do you require anything else Lady Hathaway?”
         “No, but if I need aid later, whom do I request?”
         “My name is Julia.”
         “Yes, that will be all Julia.” she took the tea cup and left. In the hall way a messenger was nearly running though.
         “Julia, m. Hannah demands your presence immediately.” Julia followed him where Hannah was waiting
         “I need you to do something for me- to tend to His Highness this evening.” Julia felt as though she had been hit.
         “Wh-why I, ma’am?”
         “Margaret has fallen ill. I have to run the kitchens because of the banquet this evening.
The other girls, I will be blunt, have motives and would cannot be trusted to act appropriately. Especially with the King in his... condition, there can be no temptation into debauchery. I presume you have no interest in our King, or his, favor.”
          “I intend to fulfil my servitude, nothing more.”
         “Good. You must change though, that dress is not well to the task.” Hannah swiftly pulled the dress over her head. Julia stood bare in her shift until Hannah took pulled an alternative dress over her. It was more of a gown, not unlike Hannah’s own. Deep grey in color, it was very fitted at her waist, with basic sleeves just below her elbows, before it fell to the ground in thick heavy layers. It was made of a quality fabric, not expensive or fine, but strong and not corse to the touch.  “Go to His Highness immediately and stay at his waking hand.” Julia curtsied abruptly, and left towards the Keep.
         The dress was heavier than any Caliscan style and she held the skirts in her hand as she walked. Julia hesitated at the staircase that led up to the Keep. The Danegan King? The man responsible for everything that had happened to her in the past few days, and she was to wait on him? No, she did not have any desire to cater to such a man in the sense Hannah implied. But could she save face and serve him? Julia froze in the center of the stairs. God, she felt ill, as if all the color had drained from her face. What had been the ‘condition’ Hannah referred to? She had no choice but to go up and hope for the fall of evening. There were two guards stationed at the top, aside the doors. She curtsied to them, and knocked twice on the door, then opened it slowly.
         Inside the room was smaller than one she would have imagined for a King. On the left there was a sitting chair, and a small table. There was a fire place against the wall directly away from the doors, and to the right was a bed. Julia went the great window behind the chair and pulled the curtain open.
         “You waste no time in ushering in the day.” A voice spoke
         “You were not waking?”
         He laughed softly. “I was.”
         She smiled. “May I get you something to eat, my lord?”
         “Everyone is always asking that.” he commented.
         “Pardon?”
         “Nothing. I would like some wine and bread, but not right now. And the fire, please start it.” she nodded. She knelt near the fire, trying not to kneel in the cinders. She set a few logs in, and the kindle underneath. On the hearth a candle burned, and she used it to light the wood. After a few minutes it began to crackle.
         “I will bring you some breakfast?”
         “Very well.” and then he answered her next question. “What ever you bring I care not.” She left and went down to the kitchen. The kitchen was roaring with the sounds of pots, and glasses, and boiling concoctions, and people. She took a tray and set it on a table. Julia took one of the finer plates and on it put some fresh oven toasted bread. She found some fresh strawberries and put them in a bowel with raspberries. She took some hot tea, as well as sugar and butter, and lastly hot eggs and bacon. She returned to the Keep. He had sat up and she noticed his face was flushed, slight beads of sweat on the side of his check. He smiled weakly.
         “Your highness, may I inquire as to whether you may be ill?” he laughed lightly, and Julia immediately felt as if she had struck him on a vulnerable nerve. “Forgive me for asking.” she said quickly, looking away.
         “No, though I am mildly amused. You must be the only one who does not know.”
         “I did not mean to pry, I mean can I bring you something?”
         “No, I have been brought things for a long time now, few things ail me. And those that do,” his voice trailed off, “well those have long become unobtainable.” It took Julia every muscle to mask her shock- the Danegan King had been ill for sometime. She remembered the ‘condition’ that Annabel had so carefully eluded to. She wondered who knew. Only nobility? Only servants? Only those living in the castle? Certainly Caliscans had no idea of such a thing. He pulled the tray a bit closer and examined the tray.
         “I’m surprised to say this all looks rather appealing.” He took a knife and cut the bread, spreading butter across it. “I am usually brought oatmeal or cheeses and grapes.” Julia looked to the ground, wondering how grave a miscalculation she had made, though there was no way she could have known what Danegans considered a traditional breakfast. “What is your name?”
         “Julia deLiselle.”
         “Why are you here.”          
         “Margaret was ill and I was...”
         “Not from around here.”
         “Yes.” he began to understand, but he did not want to guess wrong.
         “Exactly were are you from...”
         “I am Caliscan, your highness.” she met his eyes now, facing what ever reaction he would bear. He swallowed audibly, and ate a piece of his bread, deep in thought.
         “And what had you thought of their King.” his voice was serious. She paused for a moment. That was a question that beared more weight than she desired to carry.
         “I thought he was an ambitious King.”
         “And do you think I was an ambitious King?”
         “You have never been my king, I cannot say.” she said coyly.
         “That is fair enough. Though now things are a bit different, an I will return to that question on a different day.” Julia nodded, letting a deep breath escape her barely parted lips unnoticeably. She felt light headed. “You are dismissed. Please bring wine and bread at mid-day, and ask Randal to come up before he leaves to Beckham.”
         “Yes, milord.” Julia curtsied and promptly left. On the way she found a messenger and asked where she may find a man named Randal. He guided her to Randal Pierce, who happened to live in the north wing. He showed her to the door and then left her. Julia knocked on the door, a woman wearing only a shift opened.
         “What do you want honey?” she asked, her eyes still squinting into the light.
         “I must give Randal Pierce a message.” she said firmly, not to be dissuaded by this other woman. The woman swung the door open, and reveled a man standing at a wardrobe buttoning his collar.
         “Yes, yes.” he answered not even looking up.
         “M. Pierce, His Highness requests your company before mid-day.”
         “Alright then, I hear, I hear.” the man muttered as the woman shut the door.
          Julia went down to the kitchens where she found Hannah meticulously orchestrating the preparation of every imaginable dish.
         “I have been dismissed, at present, may I help you?” 
         “Why were you dismissed?”
         “I cannot say exactly, he was eating, and seemed tired.” Hannah eyed her for more information. “He also knows I am not Danegan and I think it surprised him.” Hannah relaxed.
         “Well, that could not be helped. You were asked to return later?’
         “Yes,” Julia recounted. “For bread and wine.”
         “Good, I do not have to find another girl that does not aggravate his temperament. Margaret was only able to tend to him from her matronly qualities, or else he would not stand for her approach. He can be quite difficult sometimes...” Hannah was momentarily lost in her thoughts. Julia interrupted.
         “Ma’am, you did not tell me he was so ill.”
         “Well you found out none the less, did you not?”
         “I did.”
         “No matter then. You know now, which reminds me His Highness is not supposed to drink wine, you will have to bring him something else, and not an ale, either.”
         “Yes, ma’am.”
         “While you are down here why don’t you go into the cellar and pull out two wines. I need an age that is fine, but not our finest. Something that will not insult the drinker that we intend to honor. Are you capable of having judgement in that area?”
         “I am.” Julia said. She went back through the kitchen and into the courtyard. She lifted up a heavy wooden door and descended into the damp cellar. She selected two seventeen year vintages, one red from the north, and a white from the south. Julia tucked them into a basket she found and the door and then lingered, more father in scanning the bottles until her eyes fell upon the one she searched for. The cellar held many older and more esteemed vintages, but it was the bottles from Taie in the years of long springs followed by moderate summers and sudden winters that had the most acute taste. Julia examined the bottle she searched for: it was a thirty two year vintage, springing from the east bank of the Taie River. She took that bottle and tucked it in the basket as well, underneath the cloth on the bottom.          
         Julia went back into the kitchen, taking the two bottles aged 17 years to Hannah, and then prepared a tray with bread, and cheese, and grapes, tucking a goblet in the basket. She took a moment to help Hannah spread a magnificent linen over the great table, and then went to the Keep. At the top of the stairs the two guards nodded, and she again rapped twice and entered.
         Sebastian still lay in the bed, his brow moist, looking like a fever had broke. Julia set the tray where it had been once before, letting him break away a piece of bread while she set the wine on the hearth and uncorked it. Though her back was turned he smiled at the sound of the wine. She poured the goblet half full and brought it to his side. He drank carefully, letting the flavor of the unknown vintage pass across his tongue and through his mouth.
         “Did you chose this wine?”
         “Yes, milord.”
         “Why did you select this one?” That, Julia thought, was a tricky question to answer.
         “It is a beautiful river, I hoped it had yielded equally enjoyable wine.”
         He smiled and drank again. “It is a remarkable bottle, and I fear I shall yearn for only it from this point hence.” he reflected. “They tell me I am not supposed to have wine.”          
         “I know, milord.”
         “And do you always disregard orders?”
         “I assumed ultimately it was your word I was to bid. It is not my place to tell you what you shall or shall not drink.”
         “I like the way you think. Few people manage to be as diplomatic as you have been this morning in a year, let alone servants.” he paused thoughtfully. “I have everything I need for today.”
         “Will you need diner this evening?”
         “No. You are dismissed.” she curtsied and then left, bidding the guards good day.

         When the party arrived in the city there was little to be heard other than the eruption of noise from the crowds that had gathered. The streets were nearly impassable- from the crowds- except for the path cut by the riders. At the castle gate Lord Nicholas Rienier dismounted and entered with his party of immediate comrades. Rienier left his horse with the same stableboy that he had begun to recognize. Inside he was greeted by Annabel Louise, the one of the primary maids, as well as Lucian’s woman, one of his own soliders. She offered to usher them to a dinning hall where they could eat before the feast that evening but he refused. She the curtsied deeply, which he appreciated in ways that would have made her blush, and then parted ways to tend to his men, many of whom had never actually been to Daneg.          
         Rienier went to his Danegan chamber. King Rosv bestowed a chamber to each of the three lords of Daneg. Rienier was given the East wing, along with precedence if he desired, in regards to the new stables. Upstairs he found that the room was exactly as he remembered, having not been there for several months. The room had a massive four post bed with a burgundy canopy, and fireplace with several weapons displayed above the mantle, mostly knives. He went to the mantle and set his own knife against the mantle, running his hand over the blade. He set down his bag and pulled out several pieces of clothing that he would wear later than evening, admiring the finer pieces that he had not had the opportunity to wear in light of the invasions.
         He hoped Marian was near. She was an easy and feisty woman that usually sated his appetite for female company. If she was at Daneg, he could expect her to come to him once he returned to him that evening. His mind turned to the feast that evening, when he would be expected to give King Rosv a full report of his accomplishments personally. He felt enraged at the thought he still could not defiantly say there was no longer a Caliscan heir. That god damned daughter was still missing. Then there was the feast. Rienier thanked god that Ambrose was still in Caythe. That man was nothing but a thorn in his side even before Rienier took his brother’s place to rule the second territory.
         Ambrose had assumed title early at the age of eighteen, young by traditional standards. In contrast Rienier was twenty four when he killed his elder brother, taking the title from him. He was older than Ambrose, but the man had always kept a keen eye on Rienier. He despised that tone that he could sense Ambrose took with him sometimes, or worse when he said nothing at all. Nicholas’ teeth clenched when he recalled how Ambrose interfered with that prisoner that was being brought to his tent- the striking girl from the woods. Who was Ambrose to intercept his conquests? By law the two men were of equal stature, though even the most oblivious pheasant knew Sebastian favored Rienier. Rienier clenched and unclenched his fists, the largest break from composure he would allow himself. He would have to wait for his comeuppance, but he was already resolved to do just that.


   

VI.

         That evening the feast began early around seven, and Hannah dismissed Julia early because she had been up since nearly five that morning and had taken no breaks, not even to eat. If she had not been so hungry, she would have wished to keep working. Julia did not know what to do with the little spare time she had been given. She took a small bit of food from the pantry and took it to her room where she ate it quickly. From the echos of the corridor she could hear the eruption of noise from the great hall. She wondered what the nature of the festivities was and Julia went into the kitchen, taking a moment to look through the door as it swung open and shut with waitresses hauling huge platters of food out. A girl Julia had worked with at the Baths was passing when she saw Julia’s curiosity, and perhaps even more so, her idleness.
         “Here.” the girl pushed two jugs of ale into her hands. “It goes to the Duke’s table.” she lifted two jugs of ale herself and pushed through the door. Julia followed her into the crowded hall. For the first time in more than a week Julia heard the sound of a lute, music that elicited memories of things that never would be- never could be- again. She forced herself to ignore it and used the excuse to walk through the room as an opportunity to observe. King Rosv was sitting at the heard of the great table. Annabel was very close to his side though she was not quite sitting at the table. Her face was fixed with concern, almost as if she disapproved of the entire thing completely. King Rosv smiled weakly, but his eyes were alive and danced though the rest of him could not. Julia turned away, but when he saw her momentarily in the crowd, he smiled fondly, before Annabel took him under the arm and helped him up, ushering him out of a nearby door. The room was jubilant and pairs of men and woman danced livelily throughout the entire room.
         Thick skirts twirled across the floor and hands lingered in places perhaps they should not have. But the drinking had long started and few were now reserved enough to care, or even notice. Julia set the ale down on the table she was directed to before slipping from the room. She thought for a moment that the celebration must have been for a returning war ‘hero’ who had been of relative importance during the invasion- because the King was clearly the focus, rather he was giving reverence to a man who had pleased him. Julia realized there was an excellent change the celebration was for Lord Rienier, who appeared to have played a vital role in her parents death, and the destruction of Calisca. The more she thought about it, the more she became convinced that was indeed the truth and she felt ill at ease. Though the uncertainty had begun to eat at her conscious, she could not force herself to find out for sure out of fear that such curiosity would put her face to face with Rienier.

         Julia work early the next morning regretting not having fallen asleep earlier. She made up beds for most of the morning, taking baskets upon baskets down to the washroom. She worked in the baths for the rest of the afternoon. Practically every man and woman in the castle had called for a bath and the water could not be boiled fast enough, let alone keeping up with the demand for soaps and oils. Her hands felt wrinkled from the water and she was constantly drying them with the navy apron at her waist. She tucked her hair behind her ears- despite Annabel’s pins it did not seem to take to the new style and kept coming down in whips. Julia noted none of the other chamber women seemed to have the same problem, their own hair wrapped tightly and neatly up.
         Late in the afternoon after many of the lower member of the court had the opportunity to use them, they were closed, and the women sent throughout the castle with buckets of hot water to fill private baths. Julia was given several vases and she was forced to take several trips to the door in the West wing to which she had been directed. When she had the steaming water at the door she knocked twice, opening the door slightly. A man faced the fireplace, unbuttoning his jacket, tossing various articles of clothing on the burgundy bed aside him.
         “Just fill the bath quickly before the water becomes tepid.”Julia’s heart skipped when she heard the voice, it was brazen and familiar, though it bore no pleasant reminiscence. It almost sounded like...oh god, she thought, freezing outside the bedroom door, it sounded like Lord Rienier. She took the vases of water near the bath, the man still removing pieces of clothing. It was not uncommon for servants to aide higher court members in whatever way they expected, including bathing, but Julia was raised as daughter to King Rudolf and had such sophomoric experience with the male sex that she doubted she could feign such unabashed contact. She began to pour the vases into the tub, and the hot water mixed with the lukewarm water already mixed with herbs and scents from the Baths. The waters churned together with frothy bubbles surfacing along with the poignant smell of lavender and mint. Julia went to the hall again to retrieve the last vase. When she returned the man had stepped into the tub and was reclining, his eyes relaxed. She felt a chill on her back when it became clear it was the man who was responsible for her kidnaping. Rienier sat up when he heard her,
         “Pour the water against my back.” he told her, looking down into the water. She approached and began to pour the water down his back. “And across my chest.” he said, leaning back, revealing his broad chest and dark caramel skin. As she leaned over the edge, careful not to lose her balance with the heavy jug she felt his gaze against her and she hastened to tip the jug more- she yearned to leave quickly.
         Rienier’s eyes shifted as they fell upon her once more, her slender body and fair skin. He had not quite forgotten the girl in the orchards. Suddenly he grabbed her pulled her arms towards him. The jug fell from her grasp onto the floor and the water leaked out across the stone. She nearly was pulled into the water. She stretched to lean back to the ground, to pull away. Rienier held her tightly and kissed her hard, his lips taking hers sharply. Julia’s hands slipped against his damp chest. She tried not to fall against him and at the same time pull away. There was a pounding at the door and two guards burst in. Julia’s feet touched the edge of the bath and she pulled herself from his grip, her arms sliding from is grasp. He turned up quickly to see who had entered. The guards’ eyes went from Rienier to Julia to the broken jug on the floor, the water pooling on the floor.  For a moment she was shocked, she turned away and wiped her mouth. Rienier was both enraged and stunned. One of the guards finally worked up the nerve to speak.
         “Sir, we heard a clash and thought-” Julia was already at the door and tried to pass, though one of the guards went to stop her, and she shock her hand away.
         “Don’t touch me.” she said loud enough for only the guards to hear her clearly, trying not to let her voice break. The guards thought better of stopping her and parted. As she hurried down the corridor she heard Rienier’s booming voice.
         “What did you think!...” Julia turned a corner for a moment and wiped potential tears away with the side of her hand. She hurried back into her room where she laid down on the small bed and buried her face in the cotton blankets. She could not live like this forever. It had barely been even a week and she felt terribly alone. She was not in the prison any more, but was imprisoned just the same. And her position as a servant did not alleviate the fact she was a Caliscan and a slave. Julia did not see how she could possibly have any leverage. The only chance she stood was if she could avoid attention nearly completely but she did not see how that was possible especially if she kept running into Rienier while he was staying at the castle. She did not know how long his party intended to stay, if only she could stay out of his sight until then, Julia had the sense he was not consumed by her in any meaningful sense, other than the reason was he deemed her necessary at that given moment.
         She sat up and carefully unpinned her hair, and then untied the damp blue apron, laying it on the stool- the only other furnishing aside from the bed. She went down to the baths and filled two jugs with boiling water. Julia left again and went to the servant’s bath in a small room at the end of the very narrow corridor and shut the door behind her. She poured the jugs into the bath and stirred in a small bit of jasmine she had managed to pilfer from the pantry. She stepped in, sinking down trying to become as immersed as possible in the shallow water. Julia let her hair fall off of her shoulders and let it sink into the water. She took a small cloth and began to scrub her arms harshly where his hands had held her so tightly. Julia breathed in slowly and let the cloth drift away. Calm down she told herself. Tomorrow things will have cleared up. She pulled herself up, and wrapped a towel around her. She looked at the servants gown that Annabel had tied her into and wondered if she was supposed to wear it again tomorrow, or whether it would be taken and she would be expected to revert back to the thin tan dress. She resigned that it mattered not, deciding finally that she was rather hungry. She dressed hastily in the gown, combing her long hair out and pinning it up, against her natural inclination.
         In the kitchen she took a small slice of bread and a piece of cheese. As she stood from the pantry she was startled to see an older man had come and was poking the cinders in the hearth with an iron. He smiled kindly when he saw that she was surprised.
         “I am sorry, you frightened me.”
         “I was just going to take some tea before I slept.” Julia nodded, taking the food in her hands. “My named is Edward Burrows.” he continued.
         “Julia deLiselle.” she said, nodding politely.
         “Your not Danegan?” he asked curiously. She hesitated.
         “No. I am Caliscan.”
         “Oh. Where you traveling with the others?”
         “The other Caliscans? No. Still, have you seen them?”
         “No, I’m afraid not. Well, there was one fellow... Del...Delagal, Delagelle something.”
         “Firebrick Delagel.” Julia recalled, surprising herself that the name came to her so easily, but despite the fact she half expected herself to forget the name, the significance of the man had not even begun to fade. He was the only man who had recognized her. She felt her heart beat faster as she was reminded of her precarious position.
         “He is laboring just outside of the city, on the new roads. They bring all of the foreign labor back to the cells each night. They don’t trust those imperialistic heathens as far as they can...” the man began, but then his voice trailed. “Excuse me.”
         “Excuse me, sir.” she said taking the cheese and bread back into her small room. She went to sleep soon after.
         
         “Your Highness, I was very honored to hear that you had waived off logistical discussions until after the evening of our return.” Lord Rienier said, standing at attention facing a waning man in a sitting chair.          
         “A reflection of my confidence in you, have no doubt. I could not have anticipated such excellent results. Please, have a seat.”
         “Thank you, your highness.” Rienier sat tentatively.
         “But I have heard rumors. Are they true?”
         “I can not confirm the gossip of mysterious individuals, who can say what adulterated and prejudiced lies they do tell.”
         “Oh?” the King say, curious what his Lord intended to tell him exactly.
         “ I suspect what misfortune you may have heard rumor of. King Rudolf had a daughter.” Rienier watched Sebastian’s face carefully but he could not read it. “And if she is alive she would be the true heir to the Caliscan throne.” King Rosv shut his eyes for a long time, and when he opened them his face was more vulnerable than any person had ever witnessed.
         “Nicholas.” he spoke. “You know very well that I am dying. I will tell you with great honesty that my sole aim during my time as King was to maintain my father’s house, as well as unit the Danegan lands. I believe there has been success with both of these things, but now I see that success threatening to wain. Unfortunately, I fear I shall not live to see this play itself out.  If Calisca is not solidified as Danegan territory Daneg itself is vulnerable to demise. Calisca would resist, as well as call on ties to its allies, and shatter Daneg in the process. Would you have that be your legacy?”
         “Never, my Lord. I will not disappoint your highness, even if, forgive me, it is in your death.”
         “Good. I will get the full report from Lucian later. Your dismissed.” Rienier stood abruptly, gave a sharp, low, bow, and left. Sebastian bit his lip, stopping only after the acerbic  taste of blood deterred him.


"The Twilight Affair (Part Three)"   by petra constans