Chapter 7- A ‘Guest’ of the King

Aloria was given a perfectly lovely set of rooms overlooking the formal gardens in the guest wing of the palace, facing south to take advantage of the warmth of the sun. Everything in the suite of two rooms was the best quality possible, the cream of what the master craftsmen could produce. Tapestries softened the stone walls, brightly coloured carpets from far off countries woven with silk covered the wooden floor and heavy curtains of the best brocade framed the large windows. The furniture was large and heavy and perfectly matched, dark wood covered with fabric coloured in the softest of pastel shades.

She sighed; a golden cage was a cage still.

That afternoon the dressmaker arrived with a bevy of attendants in tow to measure her for new garments and spent hours matching colours to her fair complexion. The seamstress held up lengths of pastel blues, greens, peach and yellows as she stood in her undergarments in the middle of her new sitting room to be measured and fitted. Bolts of cloth, lengths of ribbon and lace were draped over every possible surface and strewn across the floor. The dresses would take a few days to make, she was informed, but they had also brought a selection of gowns with them for her to choose from. She chose three gowns and then the seamstress and her hoard left in as much of a flurry as when they arrived, taking all the debris with them.

Aloria stood in the middle of the suddenly vast and silent sitting room, wondering what had happened, it had all occurred so quickly. She sat down on a padded footstool, dropped her face into her hands and sobbed her heart out. It took some time to regain control of her wildly spinning emotions but she was finally able to wipe her eyes on the back of her hand with a very un-ladylike sniff when there was a soft tapping at the door.

“Come in,” she called.

The door opened and a young woman came in, she dropped a curtsy to Aloria and shyly studied the floor. “I was sent, my Lady, to be your maid,” she said hesitantly.

She couldn’t be more than 15 years old, Aloria decided, no more than a child. “Come here, child,” she said gently.

The girl came and bobbed her another curtsy.

“What’s your name?” Aloria asked.

“Anne, my Lady,” she said.

Aloria nodded, “Anne,” she said, “Would you be so kind as to draw me a bath? I feel rather dirty at the moment.”

“At once, my Lady,” she said, and headed straight for a door through which Aloria had not yet had time to explore. When she heard the sound of running water she sighed with relief, she had been half afraid that there was no plumbing in Daridion, which would have been a little embarrassing, she would have hated the bath to be a tub placed in front of the fire. She hadn’t bathed like that since she was an infant and her mother had done it, one of the few women of high rank to take an active part in her children’s rearing.

There was soon another tap at the door. Aloria knew that it was usually Anne’s duty to answer the door and announce any visitors, but the girl was presently busy so Aloria simply called out once again. “Come in.”

This time the visitor was an older woman, dressed in the same maid’s uniform as Anne but with an air of maturity and confidence. She curtsied gracefully. “My Lady, I have been sent by the Queen to ask if you may grace her presence before supper this evening.”

Aloria nodded, she had been expecting this. It was evidently customary in Daridion as well as Taresia for the Lady of the house to be the host to any visiting Ladies of high status. In this case the Lady of the House was the Queen. “Please thank her Majesty and tell her that I would be most grateful to attend her once I am properly bathed and dressed.”

The maid curtsied again, “I shall inform her Majesty at once, my Lady.” She turned and left, quietly closing the door behind her.

Curious, Aloria went to the door and softly opened it a crack, wondering if the King had posted any guards outside her door. The hallway outside was empty, evidently the King was confident that his ‘guest’ would not be able to leave the palace, or move around it in all probability, without her actions being reported to him. The guest wing was probably as secure as any locked room; there were enough people to keep an eye on her without having an obvious guard. She closed the door again with another sigh; she hated having to look over her shoulder at every turn.

“My Lady, your bath is ready,” Anne said, coming out of the bathroom.

Ah, luxury, Aloria thought, and headed towards the bathroom brimming with anticipation.

After the bath she dressed in one of the gowns she had been given, a pale blue dress trimmed with pearls and let Anne dress her hair in the latest of Daridion’s fashion. She felt distinctly odd, her emotions in turmoil. She was a prisoner here, but she was being treated as a noble guest. Not that she was complaining, but it felt strange. When Anne finished with her hair Aloria looked herself over in the full-length mirror and was pleased with the results, even in a borrowed dress she would not shame her country. Her appearance helped to stifle the bout of nerves she was suffering and after composing herself, followed Anne out of the apartment.

It was not a long walk to the queen’s chambers and her private sitting room, for which Aloria was grateful, she was tired and didn’t want to walk far. Anne knocked on an ornate door and opened it for Aloria before withdrawing. Aloria straightened her shoulders and stepped into the presence of her Majesty Queen Helena.

The Queen was magnificently dressed, sitting on a divan near one of the wide windows that over looked the gardens. Her sitting room was even more vastly luxurious than Aloria’s, with rich carpets softening the wood floors, beautifully carved, velvet padded chairs, damask curtains and silken wall hangings even every surface sported an elegant, priceless piece of artwork Accustomed to such luxury Aloria didn’t feel overawed.

The Queen smiled and rose with fluid grace at the sound of her entrance. “Aloria, my dear,” she said, holding out one of her long fingered, pale hands.

Aloria took her hand and curtsied deeply. “Your Majesty, it was kind of you to invite me,” she said formally.

“Nonsense,” the Queen said with a good-natured chuckle, “While the men play at politics it is the women who must suffer for their follies. Come, sit down, child, you look weary.” She sat and patted the divan next to her.

Aloria sat down gratefully.

“Now, I hope that the trip was not too rough,” the Queen said, as if trying to make small talk. Then she sighed, her shoulders slumping for the barest moment, showing her true feelings about the situation. “I really must apologise for this whole mess, I tried to talk my husband out of such a foolish action, but he just wouldn’t listen to me.”

“As much as I wish that this had not happened, your Majesty, I can understand it,” Aloria said, “My father’s Empire is strong and he is always looking for ways to expand it, preferably through trade, but sometimes through war, it was only a matter of time before he looked to Daridion. This way, at least, the King can keep him at bay and negotiate some sort of treaty before it comes to war.”

“I see that you have not been immune from the world of politics,” the Queen said, laughing slightly.

“No, your Majesty, my Father made sure that as eldest I understood politics, what can be achieved and what strife can rise when things go wrong,” Aloria said, smiling in return.

“Ah yes, politics,” the Queen said with a sigh. “And please, call me Helena, all those Majesties tend to grate on my ears somewhat.”

“As you wish, Helena,” Aloria said, feeling that she would be able to easily warm to this motherly woman and hoped that all things aside they would be able to become friends. She hesitated for a moment, she wanted to know about Simon, but she didn’t want to appear concerned for him, it may bring him to the King’s attention and thus into danger again. She took a gamble, “Tell me, Helena, the man who was sent to kidnap me from my chambers in the dead of night, who is he?”

“Simon the Thief?” Helena asked.

Aloria nodded.

“As far as I know he is one of five brothers, from Porthaven, the sons of a fisherman. Each of them has a remarkable skill, Simon’s is thievery, he knows all that a thief must know to survive, apart from that there is little to tell about him,” Helena told her, then she frowned, “Why do you ask? Was he unkind to you?”

Aloria dared not ask any more about his imprisonment and illness, but that little piece of information was something at least. “No, he barely talked to me once we were on the ship, and he never came below decks. The few times that he did speak to me he was unfailingly polite.”

“Good, I would not like to think that he was unkind to you in anyway, this whole sorry business is bad enough without rudeness.”

They spent the rest of the evening until supper talking about Taresia and Daridion, exchanging views on world and indulging in small talk. Aloria found it a pleasant way to pass the time. Helena was an intelligent woman who had some rather pointed views on the world at large but was willing to listen to other opinions and ask pertinent questions in order to gain further insight. It was all too soon that a footman appeared to announce that supper was ready and to escort them to the small dining room.

The meal was relatively low key and as casual as a dinner in the royal household could be. The only people dining around the table that night were the King, the Queen, the Chancellor, the Crown Prince, called Nathan who was 10 years old, and Aloria. The food was excellent and Aloria was informed that there would be a proper banquet held the next day to welcome her to the court. She was also informed that she would be given free access to the palace and should she chose an escort she would also be free to roam the city. All through the meal she was itching to ask about Simon, but she dared not, keeping her questions to herself until she was free to return to her rooms.

In her sitting room she found a man waiting for her. He was a tall, gaunt man wearing a sombre robe and spectacles on the end on his nose. As she entered he rose from where he sat before the fire and bowed to her.

“Good evening, Princess Aloria,” he said. “I am Doctor Ivan.”

“Good evening, Doctor,” Aloria said, nodding gracefully, “What may I do for you?”

“I just need to ask you a few questions, impertinent as they may be, about Simon Fisher, the man who brought you here.”

Aloria’s heart jumped, “Is he all right?” she asked quickly.

Doctor Ivan smiled gently at her. “How much did he tell you?”

She blushed; she had made her feelings far to plain. “Most of what had happened to him.”

“Then you know that he had recently been very ill.”

“Yes, he told me that he had had a fever, he had a recurrence of it towards the end of our voyage.” She sat down suddenly. She was very tired and worried about Simon, she had seen those four men who had been waiting for them rushing up the gang plank to him, but what happened after that she didn’t know.

“When did the symptoms start to show?” Ivan asked.

“This morning, a few hours before we reached the coast, he couldn’t stand properly and he was very weak.”

“Did he eat or sleep properly while you were on board with him?” His tone told her that he suspected she didn’t hate him as much as one in her position rightfully should. It also told her that he cared more for the young man than mere professional interest.

“No, he ate very little and spent most of his time on deck, even at night.”

Doctor Ivan sighed with exasperation, “I suspected as much, he is a stubborn young man.”

“What has happened to him?”

“He has had a minor relapse of the fever, he collapsed on the ship after you docked, his brothers, those men who were waiting for you, brought him back to the palace.”

She jumped to her feet, “Where is he, I should…” she said, and then trailed off, blushing furiously.

“Go to him?” Doctor Ivan finished for her. He smiled a gentle fatherly smile at her, “There is little you can do for him, my dear, and besides you need to rest as well, you look exhausted and I don’t want two patients on my hands. He will pull through; he is stronger than he thinks. Thankyou for you concern, your Highness, and goodnight.”

“Thankyou, Doctor Ivan,” Aloria said, holding out her hand for him to kiss, which he did.

He turned and went to the door. There he paused and turned again to face her. “You really should rest, you have had a long and tiring trip. If you need me at any time, please don’t hesitate to summon me.”

“I won’t, and thankyou.”