Erya

SEVEN: Different Rules

Erya and Fenton set off down into labyrinthine passages of the Palace at Alvaros. Erya hadn't been into the palace at all except to get to the garden door, so she took in everything she saw. She marveled at the high, arched ceilings and wondered how the humans managed to construct them without the aid of magic. She had always viewed the humans' lack of the ability to use magic as a weakness, but now, she was beginning to see that without magic, they needed to be far more inventive and creative in the way they did some things. No wonder they are beating us on the battlefield with those war machines, Erya thought.

Fenton noticed her sour expression. He leaned down. "How about we go to my favorite place in the palace, hmm?"

Erya raised an eyebrow and then shrugged. Fenton picked up speed and turned down another hallway. They passed several servants along the way who couldn't help but stare at Erya as they passed by. She responded by trying to sink further into her wheelchair.

"Don't worry about them," Fenton admonished.

Erya signed quickly. "I feel like an animal in a cage. Watched."

Fenton nodded. "Wait until you see me in the city. Talk about watched."

Erya sat unmoving for a moment. Then she raised her hands again. "Do you often go out among the people?"

"If I can, I try to visit with my people a few times while I'm home. It does them good to remember that their prince hasn't forgotten them."

Erya nodded, but still looked puzzled.

"What is it?" Fenton asked, as he turned yet another corner.

"The royals of my people do not fraternize with the commoners. It would not be right."

Fenton shrugged. "I guess different places have different rules." They pulled up in front of a pair of big double doors. "Here we are."

A servant walked out the doors holding a covered plate and held the door when he saw Erya and Fenton. Erya eyed the food suspiciously, but Fenton wheeled her in anyway. As soon as they made it through the door, a tall, skinny man saw Fenton and ran over to him. The man lifted the prince off his feet and set him back down again. "This is only the second time you've been here yourself since you got home. What is keeping you away, my little friend?"

Fenton brushed off his clothes, seeming entirely un-worried that he'd just been scooped up off the ground. "Meetings, Harry. Apparently, I'm supposed to be an important man."

The chef laughed. Then he noticed Erya. "And who is this?" he asked, leaning down to get a closer look at her. "She looks a little thin."

Erya shrunk back away from him and signed at Fenton. Fenton gently pushed Harry back to let Erya have her space. Harry looked up. "What's with the..." He waved his hands in the air.

"She's mute, so she uses sign language," Fenton answered.

"Ah, and you understand her?"

Fenton shrugged. "More or less."

"So what did she just say to you?"

Fenton chuckled. "She said that she's not the only one that's thin."

Chef Harry looked down at his flat stomach. "I know it's a little odd for a chef to be so skinny, but believe me, it's not for lack of trying. I have a disease that makes me need to consume much more food than other people, so I must eat a lot, but I would have to work very hard to become fat."

Erya nodded. "But don't worry, his lack of flab doesn't mean he isn't an excellent chef," Fenton assured her.

"Precisely. I mean, I have to eat all day, so why not learn how to make it tasty." Harry reached behind him and picked up a pastry and held it out to Erya. "Here, try."