MINIQA OF RAMES

DECEPTION IN GOLD

"Miniqa?'' a childs shrill voice cut through the still throne room air as does a knife to fat.

"Miniqa?" he called out again in the while it took me to walk to him. sensing my movement towards him, he whirled around to face me as I stooped to be at the same eye level with him.

eyes are windows to the soul and the words I couldn't say the people I loved saw in my eyes. I couldn't help but dote upon this child, grabbed from the very jaws of death itself. he was my week spot. Nanna had brought him to me right after my mother had departed . I remembered that at that timeI had my walls built up high .it was this child's simple curiosity and unrelenting abnegation that crushed down my defenses without a fight, without a sound. for Poculo, no price was too high, no rule was unbreakable and no mistake unjustifiable.

"I want to stay with Nanna," he said, his wide eyes seeking mine in Ernest. this surprised me, but he went on, not at all perturbed "she is leaving and I would like to come with her"

I gestured to the new toys that had just arrived, toys I had ordered for him. he hadn't even touched them.

"I like the toys," the boy said, "it's the castle that's always too lonely."I gestured to myself so he may understand that I was there if he needed anything but he simply shook his head. "besides, " he said , "you're lonely too. I'll tell Nanna to play with you."

I took the parchment I always carried with me and wrote on it that grownups don't play.

after reading my words one syllable at time out loud as does every child, his brown eyes flickered to me.

"but the servants often say you're just a child, children play."Poculo was one of those children who never backed out on an argument, he would simply come up with any number of arguments till I let him go. A quality that made him more alike my mother than he would ever know.

so I tried him one more time, I wrote to him that I had his room newly renovated but he still wouldn't relent. giving up, I let him go to Nanna. she was the one who had brought him to me. she, at her old age had numerous grandchildren who adored Poculo. No one outside the castle knew of Poculos identity. hewent around in anonymity that he may enjoy being carefree for only the lady knew what awaited him when he grew up. For the average person, royalty held a hypnotic attraction but if your reputation is etched in infamy, royalty can be a sentence worse than imprisonment.

So the boy King turned to leave but first he said to me "don't be unkind to everyone when I am gone again." evidently, a servant or two had been careless with their tongues around him. ordinarily, this would be settled and by the end of the day, someone would have lost their job. the childs innocence had to be protected at all costs while it last. the truth was that it wouldn't be long before the world took it, and he hadn't chosen to be who he was.

like it often happened, I felt a presence in the throne room. this often didn't scare me but this time, there was something unsettling about it, as if I was being watched by the numerous portrays of past rulers that hung as high as the eye could see. suddenly, the throne room felt too big and a sudden pang of fear seized me and I forced myself to calmly walk out of the room, it was the only thing that could stop me from running. my mother told me never to fear.

my feet took me out to the wielders fields a distance from the palace. there was always solaced to be found in watching the fire wielders. I had been watching them for a while when Jelena came to me. she apparently had felt a need to reintroduce herself. when she was done, she thrust her hand forward as if expecting me to shake it, which I did after one too many seconds. I then looked away, feigning disinterest. This, still did not cause the prodigies' smile to falter. and I saw that her intentions were pure.

"A rider was seen along the border," I wrote her, "with a red seal and a mechanical watch." concern danced in her eyes and it is possible that she did not hear herself when the name "Hassan" slipped from her mouth in her barely restrained concern which told me of a love lost.

if all went well, Hassan would be the key to a plan I had been thinking of for months. I knew that Jelena was an Olubean spy, born and bred in Olube. I had known for months that they had raised her for this one purpose.

The youth can be silly things when love is added to the equation, even one as flawless as the ones the Olubean had crafted. Vladmir had suggested that the girl be returned to her people, if not imprisoned for Vladmir the Arch warrior was a compassionate man behind his stone cold façade but I suggested that we let her be, that her spying ways could be turned around to benefit Rames by only giving her the information we wanted to reach the ears of the Olubean king and so far she had served me well.

A weapon is only as strong as who carries it and Jelena had no idea yet that she held the fate of Olube in her hands and she would be the person to bring its downfall if it ever came to rise against Rames.

there is no friend in the game.

so far, the Olubean had been convenient allies but our relationship with our southern neighbors was that of mistrust and I would not fault them for being wary for I too had spies in Olube.

You can't have an ally whose weakness you don't know.

"I will allow you to see him," I wrote, " if you do so, you will owe me."

"anything," she said.

Nanna walked towards us, obviously having caught the tail end of the conversation. she came bearing the news that Peacemaking emmisarries from Olube had arrived after being expected for a few days now. They were lead, she said, by the Olubean kings brother Monalube.