Althea
I had freshened up after a bath, but my eyes still looked puffy with the amount I had cried last night.
Misunderstandings were the best kind of scum.
Though I'd tried to hide it with kohl, Phoebe was quick to notice.
"We are so sorry, Althea," She shifted beside me in the dining, looking remorseful, as I sipped on the morning tea. They were still feeling guilty at their actions that was the reason for my current gloominess.
"My eyes have caught a cold, nothing much," I mumbled over the rim of the cup, gaze wandering to the hazy winter sky.
It was true that I could never keep everyone pleased. But I didn't know I would lose trust of the one person whom I owed everything.
The one who'd made my survival possible. The root cause of my travelogue.
The one who had made me feel things which, deep inside… I'd always wanted to feel.
Danae looked on with curiosity, and whispered something to Caspara, her eyes repeatedly diverting to my direction.
I was seriously sick of these concubines.
Julian said he despised gossiping. Wasn't he aware that his lovely women were doing so, right under his nose?
Julian.
When the men were served breakfast, I refused to go out. I was avoiding him, his very name since morning, but now when it came up, my eyes welled up again. I sniffed them back.
Why do you forget it, dear me? That you are Coretta Hayes. You cannot remain Althea Rosemary forever…
I hummed at the thought, fighting back the sobs. It was good for the previous night to wipe out the emotional aspects of my relation with Julian. A relation that should've been strictly professional as I'd stated to the concubines.
And as pointed out by the department. Be emotionless.
Be as good as a humanoid.
When at last I'd made it up to Armonia, she wasn't here, having already left for Greece early in the morning. Because of her absence, the concubines weren't silent, leaving no chance to nail each other down with their nasty remarks.
And for no reason, dragging me into their gossips now and then.
I had watched ample historical documentaries at how it was women pinning down women in the race of charming the king/prince. So much that they were having bloody fights of their own.
My eyes skimmed over the chatting women. I could already imagine being murdered by one of them someday.
A few women who weren't concubines, also sat today. Most of them huddled around Caspara as they watched me with a hatred that could make anyone squirm in their seat.
But I've had enough of hiding behind Phoebe and Zurin or keeping myself to the room. I directed my gaze at one of the orange-haired women and stared into the depths of her eyes, my cup resting in my hands.
I am not after your king, dear witches. Please leave me the hell alone.
That creeped her out and soon, she was back to mumbling in her neighbour's ear, barely able to look at me.
Out of nowhere, a monstrous laugh sounded from somewhere down the floor, causing two women to get up and peer down. I finished my tea and gave Phoebe a questionable glance.
When the women turned around, their faces were white as a ghost.
"M- Mistress, Ionna," They uttered, their lips trembling.
"What?!" Zurin choked on her tea. Dimitra rushed to check, only for her face to go numb in horrification.
"Ladies, onto your work, right this moment!" She ordered, "Danae and Agnes, help me clear the table and all of you go to your designated works," She had already started stacking up the plates as she spoke. The women rushed away.
I was still sitting, perplexed at the turn of events, but Phoebe grabbed my hand to pull me inside the kitchen.
"Oh dear God, what sin have we done that she's here?!" Zurin was close to crying out as she hurriedly braided her hair. The others began fixing each others' dress, checking that the amulets and accessories they wore were in place.
"What… is happening?" I muttered as Phoebe whirled me around to braid my half-open hair, tucking my dress below the mantle I wore.
"Rule one, never speak if not spoken to," she replied, now bending down to fix my dress around the feet, "Rule two, never look in the eyes of anyone around you."
"Talking is forbidden. Just imagine yourself as a slave whose master just stepped in to destroy your life," Zurin added.
"Will you tell me who she is?" I frowned.
"Mistress Ionna is the scariest woman you'll ever come across," They whispered with their eyes wide, "You'd wish mistress Armonia scolded you every day instead of having to face that sadist of a woman!"
At this point, I was tired. Tired to have another swarm of people to impress. What I'd studied in my research was becoming true. A woman had to live to serve and impress others, and when they become old, pass it on to the younger ones.
I was missing the twenty-first century now. Badly.
"Althea!" Phoebe shook my arms, "This isn't a woman to be taken lightly," She gawked at my wary expression, "follow the rules, strictly! Otherwise, you don't know what she'll do to you."
"Thalia is lucky to be not in the palace today," Zurin sighed, "Poor girl was always targeted by that monster lady."
I wanted to feel nervous, but I couldn't. The sadness hanging over me opposed any sense to feel frightened.
Today, everyone worked in dead silence. Only whispering amongst themselves.
"Who is she anyway?" I asked, shaping the dough in my hand.
"Nightmare in daylight," Phoebe mumbled, "I don't know why is she even a woman. Her cruelty can match a barbarian's."
Now it sounded serious, "What?" I asked, worried.
She pointed towards Callie and Agnes, who were working silently, as usual. No matter what time, they were always quiet.
"Mistress Ionna forced them to drink boiling soup one time."
I stopped breathing for a moment.
"I think they still have the blister in their throat?" Zurin looked sorrowfully at the two working women, "They can't even shout if they ever want to…"
"What… h- how?" I put a hand over my mouth at the shock. This was truly terrifying.
"Told you, remember the rules," Phoebe sighed, "Talking is forbidden, and they were found conversing in the hallway. Mistress Ionna thinks that women don't have the right to speak until spoken to. They should always be hidden, existing only as a shadow to their men."
"But isn't she a woman herself!" I protested.
"Calm down oh my God!" They clamped my mouth, looking around frantically, "Damn girl, when she's here, forget that you even have a voice!" They silenced me.
They backed away after making sure I had quietened. I wanted to hug Callie and Agnes as I looked at their working selves.
"That's why I said. She shouldn't have been a woman," Phoebe said, chopping the vegetables for lunch, "I get it that there are some rules women must follow, but it's Egypt. We are freer here and she isn't able to digest the fact," she exhaled.
"Is she like… someone kept by mistress Armonia to check on the women, when she's away?" I raised a question.
"Lord no," Zurin waved a hand, "As far as we know, mistress Armonia despises her presence, but has to keep up because mistress Ionna is older than her. Actually, she's the oldest woman who's been living in this palace before anyone else did."
"But I never saw her," I wondered aloud.
"She visits only when mistress Armonia is away because they don't get along," Phoebe answered for me.
I buried my face in my hands. Suddenly it seemed very hard to confront this woman, whoever she was, "Thalia never told me about her," I grumbled.
"Have you seen a patch of discoloured skin on her palm?" They questioned, and I shook my head, dreading what they were about to tell.
"Poor girl once dropped a bowl full of lentils while carrying it, because it was too hot. And mistress Ionna was sitting in the dining," Phoebe looked painfully at Zurin, silently asking her to continue.
"Then…" she shuddered, "Thalia was deliberately made to hold a hot utensil as a punishment. So much that her fingers had… stuck to the burning vessel, melting the skin of her palm."
A cry escaped me at that, " Where was Jul- His Honour?!" I shrieked.
"We don't… tell him," They whispered.
"Why?!"
"One tried to," Zurin looked up, her face grim, "And the torment stopped for a while but…
"The woman who told against mistress Ionna isn't amongst us today," she confessed.
My head was spinning by these tales of the demon lady, "Does His Honour… favour her?"
"We don't know. He doesn't really bother with the womanly stuff going in the palace," They sighed, "The woman who confided to him about the torment couldn't tell much, given most of the guards are loyal to the mistress. As for His Honour, he only knows she's the oldest and must be respected.
"After the woman's disappearance, we lost any hopes to tell him about the ugly truth going on," They breathed out.
I didn't step out to serve the men, avoiding Julian at every cost. Now that I've vowed to keep my distance, I will.
Even if it meant not to look at him eating.
I was so absorbed in his thoughts while preparing for the women's lunch; I forgot about that mistress Ionna.
"Back straight, head bowed, don't speak," Dimitra instructed me with a tap on my head, when she noticed my dazed state.
I stepped out of the kitchen, stealing a quick glance at the said Mistress Ionna. Her greyish black hair was up in a bun, giving a clear look of her small face, but the body down was a mountain. She was laughing to her tablemate, the laugh that sounded monstrous. It was her laugh that had panicked the women in the morning.
She sat proudly on Armonia's seat as we served. Out of the corner of my eye, I could make out the metal piercings on various parts of her face that glistened under the afternoon Sun.
The dining was dead silent except for her hideous laugh as she only talked to a single woman on the table.
Caspara.
"I can't believe Julian stopped drinking!" Her snobby voluminous voice exclaimed, "You are doing a good thing, Caspara, encourage him to drink. A man isn't a man if he doesn't drink!" she yowled.
I had this sudden urge to roll my eyes in a long time. Along with women, she dictated men's lives too. Great.
My heart was on my sleeve as I silently went around the dining, serving. Hoping that any vengeful woman from the table doesn't pull some vicious trick on me.
"I haven't seen this blue-eyed one before," I stopped dead in my tracks when her heavy voice spoke that, my mind going haywire at what to do.
With my heart hammering in my chest, I kept my gaze to the floor, unknowingly stopping my breathing for the moment too.
"She is the court writer of our kingdom, mistress," Danae sang in, stressing on the words, court writer. I grew numb.
"What…?" The old but massive woman spoke slowly, as if she couldn't believe, "A man's job?" Danae nodded eagerly.
"What?!" This time, she banged the goblet on the table, hard, "Writing and studying is a man's job! You have no shame doing all this?!" She howled.
I stood trembling at my place. The way she punished women loomed over me like a sword at my neck.
Stigmatised, nervous, scared. Feeling all this in one go with the dining silent as a graveyard, everyone's gaze directed my way and the seething mistress who looked close to hurling the goblet on me had tears threatening to pour out my already puffy eyes.
I was terrified to even make the sound of so much as a sniffle.
Whenever something bad happened, I would think that I'd never been so scared. But everything happening as the days passed by turned out scarier than the previous time.
There was no way I was going to risk having the insides of my throat burnt by speaking anything. I had to live here longer.
"It's not her fault, mistress Ionna," I couldn't believe with my life when Caspara interjected, "It's Egypt, so it's normal for women to know how to write," She smiled at the seething mistress politely.
"And we know His Honour doesn't trust male writers after what happened the previous time. Also, Althea is fulfilling her other womanly duties too," She folded her arms, peacefully sitting beside the furious lady.
"How do you give time to your family then?" The woman snarled, "I can't believe your husband allowed it. And what about your children?" Her voice rose, "Are you so heartless as to keep them on their own as you write?!"
My shaky fingers twisted among each other, throat turning dry. I hadn't expected the talk to take this turn.
"I am asking you something, woman!"
"Ah, I…" I hiccupped, "I d- don't have a family, mistress…" I uttered meekly.
She tsked repeatedly, shaking her head, "A woman so old and unmarried? Disgusting!" She turned to look at Caspara, tattling how Julian was going insane, tarnishing the life of an unmarried woman by placing her in a man's occupation.
"No man will ever want a woman who shows such behaviour," She glared my way, "But I am generous. I will have her married to my youngest son," She tapped her goblet once and Callie standing beside quickly poured some wine.
"He will show her what a woman ought to do and what, not," She gobbled down the wine, her voice a delightful one now, "Despite her flaws, she'll be a perfect wife to him."
This was the reason I was holding onto the single thread of hope. Julian. No matter how much I denied, I cannot survive without him in this century. Everyone was insane except him.
I couldn't say anything as the vile women nodded in agreement. There it was again. They had started plotting my marriage, right in front of me.
The marriage issue was getting out of hand. I should've planned faster on how to marry Dunkin. Because marrying anyone here would not only be a history-altering risk, but the men were toxic males. They had their way, and women had no way to defend themselves.
Completing my work in utter silence, I walked back to my room. I didn't know that closing the door was all it would take me to break down again.
I took in a deep breath, letting air enter my chest, but it got clogged by another wave of emotions that hit me.
I had hurt him.
At this point, I didn't even know what I was crying for. Whether it was the fear of mistress Ionna, hurting Julian or not able to go about my task as directed.
"What is… happening?" I slid down the door in despair, hot tears drenching my freezing hands, "Why can't you… you handle this, Coretta Hayes?" I let it all out until I could cry no more.
Make it up to him. He'll understand. A voice inside me spoke. As soft as a light breeze.
Wiping the tears away, I pushed myself off the ground. My inner voice was right. Everything went naturally till we were good. It'll go back to normal if we sort things out.
And if he doesn't want to listen, then it's fine too. I'll quietly write my book every day till it is time to go back. In his absence, I'll go peacefully, without a piece of emotional baggage holding me back.
I staggered to the mirror to look at my exhausted face. My eyes were swollen, almost red with the constant crying. Nose too, while the face looked pale, anaemic almost. Sucking in one more breath, I retreated to the bed, trying to sleep the grief away.
But the saying was true that every unfortunate thing happened together. A slow pain started at the contours of my stomach, making me hold on to it.
Pushing aside my pillow, I fetched a little paper where I kept a record of the passing days in tally marks. I counted the days and sighed.
I lay back on the bed when the pain simmered again, trying to concentrate on breathing in and out when a call buzzed in.
"Hey Cors, you free finally?" Cheryl's voice appeared.
"Yeah…" I stifled a groan.
"Try to relax, honey. I know it's hard when bloody mary comes down for her monthly hunts."
She knows me too well.
"Yeah… So, what about your… AI book?" I asked.
"Oh that," she sighed, "I forget it in the garden where I was writing. Two oldies got their hands on it and were… terrified beyond words."
"Uh- why?"
"They assumed the English written in it to be spells of… dark magic, and burnt it." She said a little too quickly and became silent. As if anticipating my reaction.
"Cheryl, dare if you go back without informing us," I was too tired to account my shock for the strange way her book was destroyed, "I thought we all were returning together."
She gave out a humourless laugh, "That's impossible Cors."
"Why? God, I can't do this dying thing alone," I pushed myself up by the elbow to lean against the headboard.
She sighed again, "Choose anyone among the guys to die with, Cors but… I just have a year left…" She explained how Alexander was falling for her when historically, his marriage was three years away.
"And don't worry, I won't be killing myself," she snickered, "Circumstances would kill me. Just wait and watch."
We talked at length about various stuff, after which I subtly told her what was going on with me.
"Girl, firstly go to his room and get your damn book back! Explain your view. If he's a good king, he'll be a good listener. And baby, no one can remain stone cold when they see your sweet angel face."
It felt a lot lighter to get the weight off my chest. Initially, I'd dodged the topic, but her endless whins of how I was giving her anxiety through my sad mood made me spill it. I couldn't keep things hidden from her for long.
Walking to the cupboard, I opened it to find the papyrus finished. Thalia always made them for me, but I guess I'll have to make it on my own.
I stepped out of my room with utmost caution. It was evening already; the winters making the sky pitch black. I wrapped the mantle around me and, praying the pain doesn't start for a moment, made my way to the little garden of the concubines.
I hoped I would see Julian in the way, but didn't. I pushed his thoughts aside.
There was no one as I entered. The fire torches burnt at every corner, giving me way to reach the end of the garden.
A rotatable barrel-like thing lay here with sections cut out, containing softened papyrus leaves. I took some and pouted. How the heck do I make a tampon with them?
I twisted it, figuring out what to do when the six feet barrel rotated on its own. Glancing sideways, I spotted a black braided woman collecting the leaves too. Her cloudy grey eyes moved to look at me.
"Oh, you are here too," Caspara smiled, coming beside me to collect the leaves. I hadn't realised she was taller than me.
"Uh yeah," I tucked a hair behind my ear, not knowing what to say. She was one mysterious woman who threw my cream and defended me from mistress Ionna. The fragrance of a heavy and equally mysterious perfume hung around her.
I didn't know if I should thank her for today or accuse her about the cream.
"It's good to make these beforehand," She folded the leaves together, "I can't even get out of the bed when the time of the month is around," she laughed softly. Even that little laugh sounded attractive. Everything about her was attractive.
"What about you?" She looked at my hand eagerly.
"Um, it's my first time… making them, so," I laughed awkwardly, but a sudden pain made me shut my eyes. I bit my lip to brace it.
Surprisingly, she understood my issue, "Oh, that's no problem. Look, it's done like this," She took some softened leaves and bent them, using another leaf to tie them up.
"And then, cover it with a small fleece to make the surface smooth," I did as she said and she nodded in approval, "There it's done."
Thanking her, we were back to making some more. An odd silence accompanied us.
"If you don't mind me asking," I started, "Why didn't you talk to us when I met you all for the… first time?" I remembered how she sat away with two of the concubines when I talked to the others.
A solemn look came on her face, "It doesn't help when… people are calling you a bitch behind your back."
There was a pause which I couldn't fill in. She continued quietly, "Being a Persian from Darius' court and His Honour's favourite makes you an outcast,''
She whispered as she tied up the fleece, "All I can do is converse as little as possible to avoid conflict. That's why I may appear… selfish? Yes," She shook her head in a sigh.
I felt torn. Did I assume her to be bad for nothing? I refused to come on any conclusion about her.
I just spoke a few words of sympathy and she hummed along. "It feels gloomier when His Honour isn't around," She looked up to the star-filled sky as a chilled wind began to flow at the onset of night.
My insides twisted at her revelation, "He is… not around?" I asked.
"You don't know?" She looked down at me, pitiful, "He has gone to drop mistress Armonia at the harbour."
My heart wrenched at its place, and I lowered my head. Surely, why would he tell me. I'm not that important of a person.
Who could be more important than his favourite concubine anyway. I smiled to myself, but it faltered.
"No one seems to know," she wondered aloud, "I think he only told me that he'll be away for a week."
I lifted my head to offer her a smile, "Yes. You are his favourite one. Who would he inform if not you?" She looked on with a curious gaze at the smile I passed.
I was lost in another train of thoughts as I ambled back to my room. Every ounce of confidence I accumulated to face him today shattered one by one.
My vision became blurry again as the tears fogged my eyes. I stopped in the corridor to take a deep breath of the cold wind that passed by, blinking back the tears.
I don't belong in this world. Understand Coretta. Why are you attaching yourself so much to this…
I pressed the back of my hand to rush to my room. I couldn't afford to cry in the middle of this empty hallway.
I was running with my linen held up from the ground, desperate to reach my room when someone blocked my way. In the haste of going back, I hadn't realised I'd raised my head to stare right into the eyes of mistress Ionna.
My gaze dropped to the ground as the tears threatened to come back at the consequences. Never look in the eyes of anyone around you, Phoebe had told, and… what have I done?
"Since when are women running around?" She spoke bitterly, "You don't even know how to walk?!" I closed my eyes as her voice echoed in the hallway. My heart thudding in my chest.
"Maybe I'll have to teach you that," she spat, "You'll know how to walk and not run when I'll make you walk on burning coals!" She harshly grabbed on my hand. I couldn't control my tears at what she said.
Instead of paying attention to my surroundings, I was drowning in my emotions which led to this. I should've known I couldn't escape her wrath.
When she tugged on harder because I couldn't move fast due to the pain that erupted again, her gaze darted to my hand.
"What is… this?" She shook my hand, causing the wrapped papyrus to spill on the floor. Her eyes widened in fury.
"You impure woman!" She snarled, jerking her hand away from mine. I controlled another surge of sobs as a newfound fear gripped me like never before.
"You dared serve me today when you are impure! You know nothing about how a woman has to live?!"
"M- Mistress, I- I wasn't impure when I was s- serving y-"
Th sound of her slap cracked in the silence when her hand made contact with my tear-stained cheek.
"Shameless woman!" She shouted, "I feel like ripping your tongue out for talking back!" Shakily I pressed a hand to my cheek that stung with the smallest pressure. Tears pooled my eyes.
There was no way out. She looked like she would kill me today. And I'll disappear like the woman who had complained against her.
Without another word, she yanked me out of the hallway and down the floors, pulling me out of the palace and into the frosty night. I couldn't hold the tears anymore, nor could I protest as she dragged me away.
I cried out when her nails dug into my arm as she continued to take me to an unknown place behind the palace. I couldn't see anything due to my teary vision and the pitch darkness that surrounded us. My mantle doing little to protect me from the icy winds.
Terror struck me when we neared a series of huts. There was no source of light as she opened one of them to shove me inside.
I fell on my knees with the impact with which she pushed me down, the dried twigs and stones scraping my palms.
"I don't allow impure women in the palace who would pollute everything they touch! You'll stay here until you are pure again. Understood?!" I scrambled away, weeping when she took a threatening step ahead.
In a flash, she snatched away my mantle, leaving me in the thin linen that barely covered my arms.
"It's your punishment of not knowing how to talk to me," She seethed with gritted teeth, ready to step out.
"M- Mistress, please it's cold…" I whimpered, folding my hands, begging her to give the little source of warmth, but there wasn't an ounce of pity on her metal pierced face.
"Speak another word, and I'll have the guards pour cold water on you. Do you want that?!" she threatened again. With a last glare, she locked the hut, leaving me shivering in the night.
Not a soul could be heard in the darkness, except for the unusual sounds of animals in the nearby forest. The freezing wind seeped in through the twig covered roof, leaving me struggling for breath.
"Aah!" Pain shot through my stomach, this time at its intensity, making me clutch harder, "What have I done… to face all this?" My eyes burned as more tears gushed out. I closed them to shut the misery, praying for nature to end its cruelty, but it showed no mercy.
Because I was a woman. That's how a woman had to live in the past.
The truth of this project was hitting deeper. Transporting to the past wasn't as simple as knowing everything about history. I had studied how women were compelled to live in menstruation huts, but I didn't know I would be a part of this ugly practice. Even after years of training, nothing had prepared me for the reality of this century.
My abdomen felt like being stabbed continually, with the piercing wind hitting my body like a cruel whip. I desperately held onto my stomach, trying to suppress the pain, trying to cover myself with the linen, but nothing helped. No one was there to hear me out, to ask me for food. As the night dwelled on, the cold grew until I couldn't take it anymore.
I lay huddled in my meagre clothing, shaking with the pain in my body, and the pain in my heart. Four years was a good time. The department said it'd be history created if we even managed to stay a year alive.
And now I knew better. Mistress Ionna declared I'd have to stay here for a week. But I doubt if I'll even go on for two days. I was trained, but my body wasn't trained to face pain in cold darkness.
Neither was it trained to handle the emotional injury of my heart, of not seeing him one last time as my days neared their end in this world.
* * *
Mistress Ionna was elated to subject another woman to discipline, who dared step out of the rules she formed. As she walked back to her room to have another good night of sleep, she spotted someone near her room, who stood swinging her long black braid in her hand.
"I wouldn't have known that wretched woman was impure, if not for you," Ionna cackled when she came closer, "Thank you for informing me, my dear Caspara."
The concubine smiled back, satisfied, "Pleasure's all mine, mistress."