The Radiant War

Chapter 24a

     Andrea had nodded her reply while thinking that he was lucky none of the tendons had been severed. The injury could easily have left him permanently crippled. As it was, his hand caused him visible pain when he bent his fingers, but not so badly that he couldn't use them.

     “Actually, I think Sophie mentioned something once, in one of her letters,” added Shanks. “Something Maxine Hester was thinking of trying. I was trying to think of a reason why the apparatus refused to settle down and it sort of just came to me.”

     Andrea watched enthusiastically as he continued to work, wiring the two components together while, behind them, the prisoner also watched avidly. He glanced across at the guard to make sure his attention wasn’t on him, then reached down to the chain attached to his ankle. He gave it another tug, and watched where the other end of the chain was attached to the wall, where the new cement holding it in place was still not quite dry...

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     Princess Ardria could sense the amusement of the maid sent to see to her needs. It infuriated her, but her distress at the stubble that had appeared on her face overnight was far greater. I'm turning into a man! she thought as she scraped the blade across her jawline, wiping away the shaving cream she'd lathered there. All this travelling across the world, facing down soldiers, fighting Radiants... The adrenalin is turning me into a soldier!

     It would sort itself out, she knew. As soon as the war was over (assuming they won) and she could settle down to the business of being a Princess again, her femininity would return, but in the meantime she had to scrape her face with a knife like a common sweaty labourer! There was a reason that almost all the world's leaders were men, of course. The stress and strain of ruling a kingdom took its toll, forced one to be strong and resolute. Sometimes, even in a country as civilised as Helberion, it required a leader to intimidate people, to gain their respect with a show of strength, and that naturally caused the body to become more masculine. Maybe I should just accept the inevitable and become a man, she thought. I'll still be able to play music and dance. Men do those things too. But, dammit, she liked being a woman! She applied the razor with a new determination, and winced as she cut herself again under the chin.

     “I could help you with that, Your Highness,” said the maid, taking a step closer. She held out a hand as if to take the blade.

     “No thank you,” replied Ardria, not taking her eyes from her reflection in the mirror.

     “If I wanted to do you harm, Highness, I would not need a blade in my hand.”

     “If you did me harm, your King would feed you to his dogs, one piece at a time.”

     “I will prepare your bath then, Highness. Which perfume would you like? We have summer lotus, honeysuckle dreams...” She watched as the Princess flicked shaving cream from her blade and applied it to her face again. “Eau de horsesweat...”

     The Princess stiffened but refused to rise to the bait. The maid was playing a game with her, she knew. Trying to make her react. She would win by refusing to react. “Whatever you think best,” she said, therefore, and the maid scowled as she rang the bell for some hot water.

     Would the maid insist on helping her bathe? wondered Ardria. The water would wash the powder from the maid's arms, leave them glowing; the giveaway sign that she'd been adopted by the Radiants and partially raised. The giveaway sign that she was a traitor to her own species. The maid wouldn’t see it that way, of course. In her mind, she was doing something noble and heroic. Risking death in the name of her true masters in order to bring the human race under control. A control that would see them far better off than they were when left to their own affairs. In the maid’s mind, it was probably the Princess who was the traitor, trying to derail the benevolent designs of the Radiants in order to keep mankind in chaos and suffering. Freedom was the key, of course, she thought. Mankind must be free! Yes there is suffering and injustice, but we'll solve those problems ourselves, our way, while keeping our Freedom.

     Her first night as a prisoner of King Nilon had been a fraught one for her. The knowledge that she was surrounded by people who would kill her in a moment if ordered to do so, or curse her back to her animal form, that there was no-one she could call on to defend her, ate at her and kept her awake until the small hours of the morning. Only exhaustion had caused her to finally fall asleep, but even though she could only have gotten a couple of hours she had awoken with new energy and the strength to meet whatever challenges lay ahead. And stubble on her face! The shock of it had caused her to cry out in shock, and the maid had come running in to see what was wrong. The look of amusement that had appeared on her face when she’s seen what had happened still enraged the Princess. The lack of respect. The reminder of her new status.

     All a waste! she thought bitterly. Travelling across half the world, risking death with every mile. The deaths of the good, loyal men who'd come with her to defend her... Teena! Her sweet, loyal handmaid! If Ardria had stayed at home, Teena would still be alive. She had died, they had all died, just so that she could hand herself over to their enemy as a hostage. The sudden guilt swept over her like an avalanche, nearly making her cry out in anguish. Only the presence of this awful maid prevented her. She could not show weakness in front of the enemy. She finished her shave, therefore, and cleaned the blade in the water with a hand that was only slightly shaking.

     A short while later, the door opened and two guards came in carrying buckets of steaming hot water. Normally, maids would have done this, but Ardria supposed that, even here, there were only so many adoptees, and only they could be trusted to be in the presence of the Princess and hear what she might say to them. That gave the Princess an idea. Maybe there was still some good she could do here. Some way to give meaning to all the people who'd given their lives for her.

     The maid directed them towards the bath, into which they poured the water and then left, closing the door behind them. The maid then poured some oil into the bath from a delicately carved crystal bottle and stirred it with her hand until bubbles started to rise. The room began to fill with a warm vapour and the scent of flowers. The Princess undressed, telling herself that it made her no more vulnerable than she was already, and stepped in. The water felt good against her bare skin and she sat down in it, allowing herself to feel pleasure as the stress and tension in her body began to soak away. After all, she thought, when you're in the mouse trap, you might as well eat the cheese.

     The maid stripped to the waist and used a flannel to scrub her back. Water ran down her arms, but it didn't wash away the powder that concealed her luminous skin. She must be using some kind of waterproof cream instead, thought Ardria. It occurred to her that the eyes of an adoptee didn't shine, and neither did the insides of their mouths. If they had, of course, it would have made it much more difficult for them to move around among normal people. Some people wore masks to conceal facial deformities. People burned in house fires or whose faces had become aberrant while being raised to human. She supposed that the adoptees would have had to do something like that.