The reflection of the Queen: Exile

Chapter 18

"How much time are you going to spend getting ready? It's just a council meeting."

"You should see me preparing to go into battle."

Hecathe directed an insinuating smile at the girl lying on her bed. Naia watched her dress with her chin resting on one hand, with nothing else on top of her besides the sheets and a thin nightgown that barely covered her above her thighs. The pearls strung in her dark curls clinked every time she moved. Ever since the party at which Gerst was tortured, Naia had been the regular guest in the Princess's bedroom. She particularly liked her: she was easygoing, independent, and did not harbor high hopes for her. None of them wanted commitments, and he was glad that this did not bother her.

"For a battle? For something like that, isn't it more useful to look scary?"

"I can look scary and divine at the same time, honey," she replied, buttoning a black jacket with sapphire embroidery over a pearl gray shirt. Her reflection smiled approvingly.

"For someone who keeps getting blood on your clothes, you care a lot about how you look."

Hecathe pinned back a few locks and sat on the bed next to her.

"The blood of my enemies has always favored me."

Naia rolled her eyes, and the Princess leaned over her to kiss her. The young woman tried to hold her back, but still it didn't take long for her to pull away.

"Tell the servants to serve you breakfast. I'll have them call a carriage to take you home."

"Are you dispatching me so quickly, Your Highness?"

"I'll be busy today."

With a sigh, Naia brushed her icy, calloused hand.

"I pity all the ladies who have lovers who prefer swords to them."

"Don't talk nonsense," she replied, raising one of her bejeweled curls to her lips. - I have no preference.

She didn't laugh, it wasn't something she did often. She shook her head and lay back down as Hecathe left the room.

Her footsteps echoed through the glass-lined corridors. For visitors, the effect of walking among so many reflective surfaces had a strong dizzying effect, but she felt only a familiar sense of security. Inside the palace, she had a constant connection to her magic. It had always been this way, from the time she was an unruly child running alongside Rodion down those same corridors to becoming a young woman whose powers were an immovable part of her.

On the way she passed servants, ministers and guards, all of whom bowed their heads as she passed. It had not been easy for her and her mother to gain the respect of all their subjects, but, like so much else, they had succeeded against all odds. Looking out the windows at the frenzied city at her feet, she thought there was very little she would not be able to do for her people. She told herself that partly because, unfortunately, one of those things was not attending meetings.

The meeting room was occupied by a table where the members of the Council who had been summoned were seated. On the walls hung pictures and mirrors in dark tones, depicting some of the most representative moments of the Furya Era. And, of course, mirrors.

Hecathe took a seat next to her mother at one end of the table. On the other side was the First Councilor, who raised his eyebrows in greeting. Next to him was General Phobos, leader of the Galateans. He was not very tall for a soldier, but he had broad shoulders and arms like trunks. His hair was so curly it was a tangle, and when he opened his mouth it revealed breaks on the right side of his teeth. Across from him sat Mylod, being the commander of the Inferna. He bowed to greet Yodile, a serious and plump woman who administered the judicial aspects of the kingdom, and Lord Ascien, a handsome man with soft features and long blond hair, the counselor of commerce. Also there, among others, were Lords Cila, Fabian and Annica, in charge of religious orders, recruitments and relations with other kingdoms, respectively. All of them collaborated to govern, but none of them could lift a finger without the Queen's approval.