Kingdom in The Sand

Gifts

A teacup being set down by her elbow when she hadn't ordered for one had Marie-Fey's eyes flick up from her book where she was lounging out on her balcony.

Gharam straightened up, lowering the tray she carried.

Marie-Fey waited for Gharam to say something and the silence stretched.

"Get out," Marie-Fey said bluntly and returned her attention back to her book.

"Azeeza is asleep. I put away her things and she is exhausted. Hopefully she will sleep the rest of the day and through the night," Gharam reported.

"Who is she sleeping with? Are they liable to torment her?" Marie-Fey asked without looking up.

"Maira, Salwa and Warda."

Marie-Fey hummed at that. "The triplets aren't awful," she said simply and flipped a page.

"Maanah told me about what happened in the garden."

"Maanah should be ashamed of herself when she is so rarely prone to gossip."

"Are you alright?"

Marie-Fey was quiet for a moment, then snapped her book closed and rested her temple against her knuckles as she looked at her servant.

"What do you want?"

"To know that you're alright and if you are not alright, to know how to make it right," Gharam said.

"You cannot make right the past," Marie-Fey said bluntly, "The past has been and gone and died in the dust. All that is left are the memories and they are not tangible thus cannot be made right."

She flipped her book back open and returned her focus to it.

"One cannot make right memories, one must simply learn to live and move on."

She felt rather than saw Gharam's pained expression and the next moment her servant revealed the most backbone she had had since Marie-Fey first met her.

She stepped forwards and sat on the edge of the chaise lounge and Marie-Fey moved her feet aside as a glare settled across the eye.

"Are you asking me to throw you off this balcony?" she asked slowly, "Because I thought I ordered you away."

"I am worried," Gharam said, easing closer, like one would a wild animal.

"Your worry is neither well founded nor welcome."

"You are not the type to fly into a rage," Gharam said and Marie-Fey raised an eyebrow at her. "Your anger is always cold and calculated and you favour words over violence. What set your off?"

Marie-Fey just looked at her for a long, long moment.

Then drove her small, sharp heel into Gharam's hip.

It wasn't enough to do more than bruise, but it got the desired affect and had Gharam out of her seat in an instant.

"I am more than well acquainted with violence and your analysis offends me," Marie-Fey said simply, "If you want to do something useless for me, go see that my emerald gown is ready to wear for tomorrow. I am not looking for a counsellor or a friend to mourn my bad temper with. I am perfectly fine and you risk making me less than fine with your prying. Now leave me be unless I change my mind and allow rumours about you and poison to flourish."

Gharam had the good sense to leave and Marie-Fey noted the lack of upset on her face. Marie-Fey's words hadn't scared or distressed her, she took them in her stride and moved on.