Remnant of Power

Chapter Six

Yavenna

It only seemed like minutes later that a footman knocked on the door to tell them that Lord Rassten was outside.

Sharva walked to one of the wardrobes where a gorgeous violet dress hung on the door. "I hung this one here to air earlier. Would you be happy to wear it?" She bent to pick up a jewelled headdress and slippers from the larger trunk.

Yavenna shrugged. She really didn't care what she wore, unless it was something that made the King not want to marry her. She allowed Sharva to pass the violet gown over her head and turned around so her maid could lace up the back of it. In the mirror opposite she noticed how pretty the neckline was, the deep blue chiffon collar fastening at the front with an amethyst button.

She looked across at Sharva in the mirror; but the maid avoided her gaze.

"You seem strangely quiet, Sharva, even in the light of the current situation."

Sharva started to pin a headdress onto the crown of Yavenna's head, but didn't reply.

"What is it, my dear?" asked the Princess, narrowing her eyes. Why was Sharva refusing to look at her?

The maid dug the last pin into Yavenna's hair. "I'm just concentrating, Princess. It's actually quite complicated to arrange your hair, especially as you always want me to leave some of it loose."

Yavenna's stomach was tight. Whatever was the matter? There was a knock on the door, Yavenna heard Lord Rassten's voice outside the room.

The Princess lifted her chin and walked up to him, trying not to bite her lip. Sharva fumbled to lock the door and the four of them proceeded down the chandelier-lit corridor to the first staircase.

Yavenna's eyes were glued on Sharva as they descended, trying to make her maid look at her. But Sharva kept her eyes firmly fixed on the stairs.

As they reached the top of the main staircase, musicians burst into a fanfare. The footmen led them towards the enormous carved doors that opened onto the banqueting hall. Yavenna breathed deeply, trying to calm the butterflies whirling in her stomach.

As they neared the doorway, Yavenna saw Sharva suddenly start to fan herself with her hand. What on earth could be wrong? The Princess moved away from Lord Rassten and poked Sharva to get her attention.

Yavenna stopped still on the threshold. Standing in front of her with the same gaudy crown on his head was the man from the balcony. He turned to face her as she entered the room, amber-brown eyes gleaming through the mask. In his hand the King held a short leash. On the end of it, its jaws snapping viciously, was a reptilian creature with huge fangs that protruded over its lips, seven feet long if it was an inch. It was a sandwyrm, native to Tarhasta, but Yavenna had never seen one that big.

The reptilian creature strained at its leash, trying to move closer to her, as she passed it rubbed its face on the skirt of her dress. Rigid with horror, Yavenna's heart pounded in her ears. The King passed the sandwyrm's leash to a man who looked like he numbered a troll among his ancestors, then stepped forward to speak to her. He reached for her hand and gripped it in his clammy one.

His cloth of gold doublet was still stained, even more so than this morning, and his long greying beard looked greasy. Yet hanging against the gold of his shirt Yavenna saw something arrestingly beautiful. It was a small blue stone on a fine gold chain, smaller than the size of her little finger nail. Yavenna found herself wanting to stare at it. As she eyed it, the color changed, from deep blue, to purple, to violet, to cornflower blue. Without realizing what she was doing, Yavenna's hand lifted towards it. Suddenly she became aware of where her hand was, and dropped it, gasping. She'd almost touched the stone! She'd almost pawed the King's chest! She stepped backwards, blanching.