To Make a Kinder Children's Tale

17: King

The morning didn't bring a lot of answers or peace. It did hold the singular benefit of feeling like the knowledge crammed into her head had a chance to settle. Esme would take that much.

Of course, she had not woke to the day on her own. His frame silhouetted the doorway. "What do you want?"

Althalos smiled gently. "You did say no questions asked."

"Alright." The response was automatic, backing her word, but he was just standing there, not taking his need of her.

"Unfortunately, we have a meeting with my grandfather this morning-that and your first dress is in. Do you know how to style your hair or do I need to call in a maid for that purpose? Or would you accept my help?"

Her objection was swift at the mere idea. After their bath together, she had a good idea of where that would lead. "I've done my own hair for function most my life, so it should be sufficient. I'd rather be me than ornamental."

"Will you need help dressing?" Althalos sounded bored, deceptively bored.

She shook her head. "Front buttons and ties with stretchable cloth. Where is this dress?"

He pointed towards a chair by another desklike piece of furniture, then shut the door between them-leaving her to get ready in privacy. Not even ten minutes later Esme moved into their main room just behind Althalos, who wasn't staring after her door the same way he had the night before, so her "I'm ready" startled him.

He turned to her, hands occupied with a strange morsel of food and a necklace, nearly as simple as her dress. No explanations, just placed the food to her lips and the metal around her throat before escorting her out of their rooms to the throne of Octavian the Fifth.

The family resemblance was obvious, and the age difference undefinable-they could pass for brothers save for the grandfather missed out on the fullness that made her man unique. This was the face and build one expected of an Aelif. It didn't move Esme a bit as the first sight of Althalos had forged her preferences. That thought almost made her laugh as she bowed in deference to her ruler. Imagine, having a taste in men off of looks-yet here she was, doing just that.

"Come." The usual command of the Aelfine, used for pretty much any demand that you move. Esme managed to understand it correctly this time and drew close to the elevated throne, placing them at near eye-level with each other. Another strange word barked out, and a blinding light from nowhere caused her to recoil, to block out this offense. A hand gripped her shoulder, yanking her towards the source.

"Open your eyes, girl." It was painful, but she managed to do as demanded, and eventually the light faded to the more kindly smile of the king. "You are a bondmaid, descendant of the Crystal Queen. That which is Aelif is lost to humanity, but that cannot hide the mark of the wholly alien nature of the Hive."

"What did you see, my King?"

"The remnants of facets. Their eyes were like jewels at one time. In the depths of their heirs remains the remnants. They are faint, barely recognizable lay-lines that speak of the end of a tie, but they still persist." After giving her an answer he turned to his grandson."You said she avoided you for a month?"

"Yes, but she was deadened with spirits, and my end was unbearable. I don't think this bond is in any way feeble, Sire."

"And you learned to avoid this fate from your mother?"

"I don't think she avoided it at all, my Leige. She was killed for seeking drink through trading what belongs to this bond, and I know nothing of why she avoided her bondmate. I had no intention of withholding myself any further than I did because of her failures. If I had thought she succeeded, your grandson would still be in pain." Of course the poor girl was as red as could be with this admission. As sterile as she tried to make it all sound, it was still sex. She was talking sex with the grandfather of her lover, and she didn't even know him. Worse still? This was the one man who had absolute power over her life-and Althalos', for that matter. The Prince's sardonic smile didn't help. Man might as well be leering, it made not a whit of difference.

The king didn't seem to care about their personal responses as he looked back and forth between them. "I sense the strength in both of you to overcome your fate, if it was by breeding alone. But the Crystal Queen still calls on her descendants. When the time comes, she'll speak and you will likely follow. You will both have to wait and see if you fly."

Octavian leaned back in his private throne, steepling his fingers together."Now, there's only two meetings you must have before I announce you to the court, Esme-that with the elder bondmaid, and with Rileus-both demand it. The elder you go to from here. Rileus will meet with you at the appointed time."

After this proclamation he stood and continued on less officially, circling the room with his new granddaugther-grandson a pace behind-telling her of his scant year with the bondmaid he'd never forget, and the wife who helped him mend.

Esme had more been looking at life through the lens of survival until this point. On the way to see the elder, she kept looking at Althalos, trying to figure out if he would come to care for her in time. He seemed so focused on doing what is expected of him and then having to cope with the aftermath that she doubted he'd ever really take the time to "enjoy her company"-as she'd heard some fancier folk say. It would be a constant juggling of the blinding heat of the bond and the maddening chill of the everyday. She gave an involuntary moue of disgust-something she had painstakingly hidden for years becoming a thorn in her side all over again. It never occurred to her that she could exert a little control over his responses, to make something real out of this-even with the evidence of his catering to her needs-because it was something she never had. Like most young adults, she was oblivious to the more obvious answers to her questions, in spite of how observant she otherwise was.

Althalos had been lost to his own thoughts as well, but they more centered around why his grandfather was so friendly towards his betrothed-he suspected that this was his king's normal response to bondmaids and he clearly harbored no ill-will towards his own past. The Aelif was well wrapped in his thoughts and leading them to the next visit that the small sound startled him far more than it should. "Is something wrong?"

"No, I am fine." Esme knew she would have to work on hiding her disappointments better-especially the ones that didn't deeply hurt her. And Althalos? He had not yet learned to mistrust a woman's claim of being fine.