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drownedinlight Methinks this story is not so short anymore.
When she woke, Ulorna found herself in the largest bed she had ever seen. Ulorna pushed herself up against the bed post, hearing a ring as she did so. To her amazement, string which lead to a bell mounted on the wall was tied around her wrist. She moved her wrist up and down a few more times, ringing the bell, for she had never seen one so small, before she untied the string from her wrist. The moment in which she sought to move from the bed, however, was the moment Frey entered the room, followed by a man dressed mostly in black, save for the white robe he wore over his clothing.
“You’re awake!” Frey declared.
“No doubt, Master Prince, that much is obvious. Are you lucid, child?”
“What does that word mean?” she asked.
“Hmm, yes then,” he said, and approached her. He began touching her, pulling her this way and that, looking in her ears and eyes, feeling her belly, back and legs, though for what she knew not. The healer at the village was not nearly so thorough, but Ulorna hoped that Frey would stop him from doing anything appropriate. As the man in the white robe prodded her, Frey sat by her bedside and told her of all that had happened.
“You’ve been asleep for nearly five days,” Frey said. “I was up after two once the healers had finished with me, and both Dav and Randin are all right, they send their thanks for…well, whatever you did. Bohs…” He looked away from her. “Bohs is dead.”
“I know,” she replied. “I held his hand as he died.”
“It would explain why you reeked of death when they brought you to be healed,” the man in white grunted. “Covered in blood, no way to know what was yours!”
“But that was the thing, almost none of the blood which covered you was yours,” Frey said. “How many of those soldiers did you slay?” Ulorna thought back; though much of it was a blur, and she could not recall fighting any specific number of soldiers, though Bohs and Magvim’s deaths stuck out in her mind.
“I cannot recall,” she said at last. “Much of it went so quickly.”
“I would remember as best I could,” said the man in white. “You are required to go before the council and tell them the events of how two very powerful mages were killed.”
“I…” Ulorna squeezed her eyes shut, willing the images away for just a moment. “I know how that happened. I will tell.”
“Ulorna, there’s something else,” Frey told her. “My father wishes to speak with you.”
“The king?” she inquired.
“That is generally one who is father of a prince,” the man in white said.
“He is not angry with you, I promise. Or at least, he seemed not so angry to me,” Frey replied. “He requested your presence once you were well. Do you feel as if you could face him?”
“I suppose I would not be more ready, if given time,” Ulorna replied. The man in white snickered.
“Oh, yes, you’ll give the council the best kind of trouble,” he said, standing. “I’ll take my leave of you, your highness, Mageling.” He bowed to Frey and saluted her before striding from the room.
“I’ll take my leave as well,” Frey said, rising from his post at her bedside. “No doubt, my mother has already sent for a flock of maids to attend to you.”
“Oh my!” gasped several, high pitched voices. A group of women, not much older than Ulorna stood in the door way, gawking at Frey where he stood.
“As I said, I will take my leave. I will see you shortly, Mistress Ghent.” Frey strode from the room, right through the group of women.
“Good morning, Mistress Ghent,” said one maid, echoed by the others, who all bobbed in place.
“Good morning,” Ulorna replied, uncovering her body from the bedding. Several maids rushed to help her as she stood, while several others rushed into a room adjoined to hers.
“We have been sent by her Majesty Queen Auresta to help you bathe and dress for you audience with the king,” said the maid who has spoken before, as the others pulled the thin, white dress she had been wearing to sleep. “If there is anything else you require of us then please do not hesitate to ask.”
“Some food might not go amiss, please,” Ulorna replied as they led her to a bathing basin. “And if you could please inquire as to the placement of my knives, I would be grateful.” The maids looked nervously between themselves at her request. “Do not be afraid to speak in front of me. I am not one of your nobles.”
“Dafin, please fetch Mistress Ghent a small meal to break her fast,” ordered the head maid. “As to your weapons, Mistress, they are being held with the mage’s guard until you speak with the council.” Ulorna frowned as the maids began quite thoroughly scrubbing her, but nodded.
“Thank you for the information. I will be sure to inquire of them at my audience with the council.” The maid nodded and began helping them wash Ulorna, pouring some sort of suds into her hands and going to work on Ulorna’s hair, covering all the dirty patches and running her fingers through many of the tangled parts.
“Healers are so careless of the hair when they bathe their patients,” the head maid said as she struggled through the knots that comprised Ulorna’s hair. “Let me know if I tug too hard Mistress.” Though, she did not, at all. The maid’s had her washed, rinsed and dried, and probably cleaner, than Ulorna would have been able to accomplish with just her own two hands. They led her back to the room, where they dressed her in undergarments, first, a lite tunic that tied just above her breasts, but had no sleeves, then a cloth that ran between her legs, and then a tight garment that went around her waist and supported her breasts.
The dress they slipped over her head was unlike anything she had felt before, and shimmered against her skin. There were no sleeves and the dress held itself up by tying around her neck, and at the middle of her back. From there, up to her neck, were completely bare, as well as her shoulders and arms. Ulorna felt naked, and her pale skin stood out even more against the black of the dress. Once she was dressed, however, she was made to sit, and one of the maids fed her fruits and egg, like a child, while others still dressed her hair.
“Forgive me, Mistress, but we seem not to have shoes for you,” the head maid said, once they had finished with their preparations.
“Do not worry,” Ulorna said. “I go without shoes.” The maid squinted at Ulorna, but then slowly smiled fetching something known as a looking glass so that Ulorna could admire her own appearance. Her hair was pulled away from her face, revealing more of her pale skin, and the oaken eyes she often hid so that few might now her expression. Ulorna ran her hand along the bare skin of her shoulder and neck onto to have her fingers tangle with something mixed with the cloth of her dress. She pulled the chord free of her dress, and found it to be the sigil Magvim had given her.
“Mistress, are you well?” asked the head maid.
“I simply have the feeling that this day will be as hard as my last. Thank you,” she said to calm the girls down, who appeared frightened at her words. “Thank you for the help you have given me this morning.”
“Are you ready to see the king then?” asked the head maid.
“Yes I am.”
They had to go no further than the door, where a guard was waiting to escort her to the king. He only turned and expected her to follow, and Ulorna did, spreading out her feeling before her as she walked. The skirts of the dress nearly tripped her several times, until she grabbed them and held them up so that her bare feet showed as they walked. Occasionally, they would pass those richly and poorly dressed in the halls whose eyes would follow Ulorna as she passed, and whose tongues would waggle as soon as they thought her far enough away. At last they arrived at a large set of doors where a man dressed in red stood waiting for them.
“And how shall I announce you?” the red man asked.
“Ulorna Ghent,” she replied. The man raised an eyebrow.
“You request no title?”
“I have none to request,” Ulorna replied. The man frowned, but nodded.
“You will address the king as his Majesty, but do not speak unless directly spoken to,” the man instructed. “Curtsey when he calls you forward and never look him directly in the eye, do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” Ulorna replied. The man nodded to the two soldiers on either side of the door, and they opened it, the man in red walking in first, though motioning for Ulorna to follow is slow, stately walk.
“Your Majesties, your highness.” The man in red bowed twice to different thrones. “May I present Ulorna Ghent, as requested, Sire.”
“Thank you Sir Marqes.” Marqes moved off to the side of the room, never once turning his back or looking up. “Ulorna Ghent, come forward.” Ulorna moved forward slowly, trying to take in the room without truly looking up. She found that the room was made of a cold, spiraling stone. Most of it was white, but there was a platform raised out of the white rock that gave way to black. Atop this platform sat two gilded chairs, lined with plush purple fabric. A man sat to Ulorna’s left, and a woman to her right. Frey sat a distance away from the woman. Ulorna knew without looking that there was also four guards behind her.
She moved forward until she could see the feet of the king from a comfortable distance and then curtsied as low as she could without falling. “Rise, Mistress Ghent,” the king commanded. Ulorna straightened herself. “You are permitted to look up, Mistress Ghent, I would like to see the face of the woman who rescued my son from mercenaries and a Mage feud.” Ulorna looked up and she feared she might have done so too sharply. Her eyes flew to Frey, who mouthed,
“Say thank you!”
“Thank you, you Majesty.” King Aldin, who looked much like Frey, only with a downy beard turning grey in parts, nodded to her.
“You need not be so frightened of etiquette, Mistress Ghent. The Prince Frey has informed me that your ways and customs of the North are much different than our own. That you have managed thus far shows respect enough.” Ulorna swallowed a lump, which had appeared in her throat.
“Again, thank you, your Majesty.”
“It is I who should be thanking you, Mistress Ghent,” the king replied. “You saved the life of my son, for surely he would have been killed if you had not called the beast of the air and woods.” The queen laid her hand on her husbands, and they shared a look. “Which may bring us to our first matter of business. There appeared, on the day you…arrived her, a she-wolf, suckling a litter of cubs. She will not leave, and we thought perhaps you may have a way with her. No mage thus far has succeeded, but many think that if you called her you can release her as well.” The King paused, and Ulorna took that moment to speak.
“I will do my best to see what the she-wolf requires, your Majesty,” Ulorna replied.
“The next matter of business is somewhat more delicate,” the King admitted. “Such that I refer to my queen, even to bring it up.”
“Great thanks, my lord,” said the queen. “As a matter of extending our thanks, we thought long and hard as to what would equal the life of a son and heir. To be truthful, no amount of gold could quite equal, and we have been assured that pending your meeting with the Mage Council, you will be accepted into the Mage Academy to be taught there. Education and wealth not an option, we decided to take your future into mind.” The queen pursed her lips and looked Ulorna up and down, such that Ulorna almost thought to question her. “I occurred to the king and myself, that perhaps, with no parents left to take care of you, and though Bohs Ghent may have left you some form of dowry, we will give you a choice, Ulorna Ghent. One of your choices is to marry Prince Frey, third son of King Aldin. What say you to this?”
Ulorna’s mouth ran dry.
“I…I do not know what to say to this, your Majesty,” Ulorna admitted.
“Are matches in your village made for love?” the queen inquired. Her voice was soft, understanding.
“Not always, your Majesty. Truthfully, your Majesty, I was an outcast in my home, and though a woman now, I had not given much thought to marriage, for I always believed no man would have me,” Ulorna admitted. “And I know nothing of how to be a wife, much less to a prince, be he the third or first born.”
“You speak very wisely,” the queen replied. “Many young women would jump at the chance to marry a prince. Thus, I think the second option might fit you best. The court has assumed that we will no doubt employ you as a mage here when you are fully taught. Should you be good, and retain some of this wisdom, I see no reason why this assumption would be false. As such, you would be eligible to marry a man of good standing should you be able to provide a dowry. My king and I have thought that given proper lessons, you might make an excellent noble woman, and therefore offer to pay your dowry, to whomever would provide a suitable match for you. I would, of course, assist you in finding such a match, and should he still be available when it does come time for you to marry, Frey may even still be an option for you.”
Frey cleared his throat and looked at the King, who nodded at him.
“Mistress Ghent, this means that until such a time that you might decide otherwise, you would essentially be my foster sister, being that your education as a lady and dowry would be provided by my parents, the king and queen.”
“You have entered a life you will not easily escape Ulorna Ghent, and though we will not force your hand, this offer is truly in your best interest,” the queen added. Ulorna’s tongue stuck to the bottom of her mouth, tears welling up in her eyes.
“Forgive me,” she said. “I have never had someone so interested in protecting my future. This is quite a wonderful offer. I do not know what to say, but to accept.” This made all three royals smile. Frey, especially had a wide grin on his face. “Though, may I ask one question, um, not quire related to the subject at hand, your Majesties?”
“Speak, girl, this may be your last chance!” the king declared. The queen and prince laughed, though Ulorna felt puzzled at the notion.
“I was wondering, if perhaps you might know why I had been called before the Mage Council, sire.”
When she woke, Ulorna found herself in the largest bed she had ever seen. Ulorna pushed herself up against the bed post, hearing a ring as she did so. To her amazement, string which lead to a bell mounted on the wall was tied around her wrist. She moved her wrist up and down a few more times, ringing the bell, for she had never seen one so small, before she untied the string from her wrist. The moment in which she sought to move from the bed, however, was the moment Frey entered the room, followed by a man dressed mostly in black, save for the white robe he wore over his clothing.
“You’re awake!” Frey declared.
“No doubt, Master Prince, that much is obvious. Are you lucid, child?”
“What does that word mean?” she asked.
“Hmm, yes then,” he said, and approached her. He began touching her, pulling her this way and that, looking in her ears and eyes, feeling her belly, back and legs, though for what she knew not. The healer at the village was not nearly so thorough, but Ulorna hoped that Frey would stop him from doing anything appropriate. As the man in the white robe prodded her, Frey sat by her bedside and told her of all that had happened.
“You’ve been asleep for nearly five days,” Frey said. “I was up after two once the healers had finished with me, and both Dav and Randin are all right, they send their thanks for…well, whatever you did. Bohs…” He looked away from her. “Bohs is dead.”
“I know,” she replied. “I held his hand as he died.”
“It would explain why you reeked of death when they brought you to be healed,” the man in white grunted. “Covered in blood, no way to know what was yours!”
“But that was the thing, almost none of the blood which covered you was yours,” Frey said. “How many of those soldiers did you slay?” Ulorna thought back; though much of it was a blur, and she could not recall fighting any specific number of soldiers, though Bohs and Magvim’s deaths stuck out in her mind.
“I cannot recall,” she said at last. “Much of it went so quickly.”
“I would remember as best I could,” said the man in white. “You are required to go before the council and tell them the events of how two very powerful mages were killed.”
“I…” Ulorna squeezed her eyes shut, willing the images away for just a moment. “I know how that happened. I will tell.”
“Ulorna, there’s something else,” Frey told her. “My father wishes to speak with you.”
“The king?” she inquired.
“That is generally one who is father of a prince,” the man in white said.
“He is not angry with you, I promise. Or at least, he seemed not so angry to me,” Frey replied. “He requested your presence once you were well. Do you feel as if you could face him?”
“I suppose I would not be more ready, if given time,” Ulorna replied. The man in white snickered.
“Oh, yes, you’ll give the council the best kind of trouble,” he said, standing. “I’ll take my leave of you, your highness, Mageling.” He bowed to Frey and saluted her before striding from the room.
“I’ll take my leave as well,” Frey said, rising from his post at her bedside. “No doubt, my mother has already sent for a flock of maids to attend to you.”
“Oh my!” gasped several, high pitched voices. A group of women, not much older than Ulorna stood in the door way, gawking at Frey where he stood.
“As I said, I will take my leave. I will see you shortly, Mistress Ghent.” Frey strode from the room, right through the group of women.
“Good morning, Mistress Ghent,” said one maid, echoed by the others, who all bobbed in place.
“Good morning,” Ulorna replied, uncovering her body from the bedding. Several maids rushed to help her as she stood, while several others rushed into a room adjoined to hers.
“We have been sent by her Majesty Queen Auresta to help you bathe and dress for you audience with the king,” said the maid who has spoken before, as the others pulled the thin, white dress she had been wearing to sleep. “If there is anything else you require of us then please do not hesitate to ask.”
“Some food might not go amiss, please,” Ulorna replied as they led her to a bathing basin. “And if you could please inquire as to the placement of my knives, I would be grateful.” The maids looked nervously between themselves at her request. “Do not be afraid to speak in front of me. I am not one of your nobles.”
“Dafin, please fetch Mistress Ghent a small meal to break her fast,” ordered the head maid. “As to your weapons, Mistress, they are being held with the mage’s guard until you speak with the council.” Ulorna frowned as the maids began quite thoroughly scrubbing her, but nodded.
“Thank you for the information. I will be sure to inquire of them at my audience with the council.” The maid nodded and began helping them wash Ulorna, pouring some sort of suds into her hands and going to work on Ulorna’s hair, covering all the dirty patches and running her fingers through many of the tangled parts.
“Healers are so careless of the hair when they bathe their patients,” the head maid said as she struggled through the knots that comprised Ulorna’s hair. “Let me know if I tug too hard Mistress.” Though, she did not, at all. The maid’s had her washed, rinsed and dried, and probably cleaner, than Ulorna would have been able to accomplish with just her own two hands. They led her back to the room, where they dressed her in undergarments, first, a lite tunic that tied just above her breasts, but had no sleeves, then a cloth that ran between her legs, and then a tight garment that went around her waist and supported her breasts.
The dress they slipped over her head was unlike anything she had felt before, and shimmered against her skin. There were no sleeves and the dress held itself up by tying around her neck, and at the middle of her back. From there, up to her neck, were completely bare, as well as her shoulders and arms. Ulorna felt naked, and her pale skin stood out even more against the black of the dress. Once she was dressed, however, she was made to sit, and one of the maids fed her fruits and egg, like a child, while others still dressed her hair.
“Forgive me, Mistress, but we seem not to have shoes for you,” the head maid said, once they had finished with their preparations.
“Do not worry,” Ulorna said. “I go without shoes.” The maid squinted at Ulorna, but then slowly smiled fetching something known as a looking glass so that Ulorna could admire her own appearance. Her hair was pulled away from her face, revealing more of her pale skin, and the oaken eyes she often hid so that few might now her expression. Ulorna ran her hand along the bare skin of her shoulder and neck onto to have her fingers tangle with something mixed with the cloth of her dress. She pulled the chord free of her dress, and found it to be the sigil Magvim had given her.
“Mistress, are you well?” asked the head maid.
“I simply have the feeling that this day will be as hard as my last. Thank you,” she said to calm the girls down, who appeared frightened at her words. “Thank you for the help you have given me this morning.”
“Are you ready to see the king then?” asked the head maid.
“Yes I am.”
They had to go no further than the door, where a guard was waiting to escort her to the king. He only turned and expected her to follow, and Ulorna did, spreading out her feeling before her as she walked. The skirts of the dress nearly tripped her several times, until she grabbed them and held them up so that her bare feet showed as they walked. Occasionally, they would pass those richly and poorly dressed in the halls whose eyes would follow Ulorna as she passed, and whose tongues would waggle as soon as they thought her far enough away. At last they arrived at a large set of doors where a man dressed in red stood waiting for them.
“And how shall I announce you?” the red man asked.
“Ulorna Ghent,” she replied. The man raised an eyebrow.
“You request no title?”
“I have none to request,” Ulorna replied. The man frowned, but nodded.
“You will address the king as his Majesty, but do not speak unless directly spoken to,” the man instructed. “Curtsey when he calls you forward and never look him directly in the eye, do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” Ulorna replied. The man nodded to the two soldiers on either side of the door, and they opened it, the man in red walking in first, though motioning for Ulorna to follow is slow, stately walk.
“Your Majesties, your highness.” The man in red bowed twice to different thrones. “May I present Ulorna Ghent, as requested, Sire.”
“Thank you Sir Marqes.” Marqes moved off to the side of the room, never once turning his back or looking up. “Ulorna Ghent, come forward.” Ulorna moved forward slowly, trying to take in the room without truly looking up. She found that the room was made of a cold, spiraling stone. Most of it was white, but there was a platform raised out of the white rock that gave way to black. Atop this platform sat two gilded chairs, lined with plush purple fabric. A man sat to Ulorna’s left, and a woman to her right. Frey sat a distance away from the woman. Ulorna knew without looking that there was also four guards behind her.
She moved forward until she could see the feet of the king from a comfortable distance and then curtsied as low as she could without falling. “Rise, Mistress Ghent,” the king commanded. Ulorna straightened herself. “You are permitted to look up, Mistress Ghent, I would like to see the face of the woman who rescued my son from mercenaries and a Mage feud.” Ulorna looked up and she feared she might have done so too sharply. Her eyes flew to Frey, who mouthed,
“Say thank you!”
“Thank you, you Majesty.” King Aldin, who looked much like Frey, only with a downy beard turning grey in parts, nodded to her.
“You need not be so frightened of etiquette, Mistress Ghent. The Prince Frey has informed me that your ways and customs of the North are much different than our own. That you have managed thus far shows respect enough.” Ulorna swallowed a lump, which had appeared in her throat.
“Again, thank you, your Majesty.”
“It is I who should be thanking you, Mistress Ghent,” the king replied. “You saved the life of my son, for surely he would have been killed if you had not called the beast of the air and woods.” The queen laid her hand on her husbands, and they shared a look. “Which may bring us to our first matter of business. There appeared, on the day you…arrived her, a she-wolf, suckling a litter of cubs. She will not leave, and we thought perhaps you may have a way with her. No mage thus far has succeeded, but many think that if you called her you can release her as well.” The King paused, and Ulorna took that moment to speak.
“I will do my best to see what the she-wolf requires, your Majesty,” Ulorna replied.
“The next matter of business is somewhat more delicate,” the King admitted. “Such that I refer to my queen, even to bring it up.”
“Great thanks, my lord,” said the queen. “As a matter of extending our thanks, we thought long and hard as to what would equal the life of a son and heir. To be truthful, no amount of gold could quite equal, and we have been assured that pending your meeting with the Mage Council, you will be accepted into the Mage Academy to be taught there. Education and wealth not an option, we decided to take your future into mind.” The queen pursed her lips and looked Ulorna up and down, such that Ulorna almost thought to question her. “I occurred to the king and myself, that perhaps, with no parents left to take care of you, and though Bohs Ghent may have left you some form of dowry, we will give you a choice, Ulorna Ghent. One of your choices is to marry Prince Frey, third son of King Aldin. What say you to this?”
Ulorna’s mouth ran dry.
“I…I do not know what to say to this, your Majesty,” Ulorna admitted.
“Are matches in your village made for love?” the queen inquired. Her voice was soft, understanding.
“Not always, your Majesty. Truthfully, your Majesty, I was an outcast in my home, and though a woman now, I had not given much thought to marriage, for I always believed no man would have me,” Ulorna admitted. “And I know nothing of how to be a wife, much less to a prince, be he the third or first born.”
“You speak very wisely,” the queen replied. “Many young women would jump at the chance to marry a prince. Thus, I think the second option might fit you best. The court has assumed that we will no doubt employ you as a mage here when you are fully taught. Should you be good, and retain some of this wisdom, I see no reason why this assumption would be false. As such, you would be eligible to marry a man of good standing should you be able to provide a dowry. My king and I have thought that given proper lessons, you might make an excellent noble woman, and therefore offer to pay your dowry, to whomever would provide a suitable match for you. I would, of course, assist you in finding such a match, and should he still be available when it does come time for you to marry, Frey may even still be an option for you.”
Frey cleared his throat and looked at the King, who nodded at him.
“Mistress Ghent, this means that until such a time that you might decide otherwise, you would essentially be my foster sister, being that your education as a lady and dowry would be provided by my parents, the king and queen.”
“You have entered a life you will not easily escape Ulorna Ghent, and though we will not force your hand, this offer is truly in your best interest,” the queen added. Ulorna’s tongue stuck to the bottom of her mouth, tears welling up in her eyes.
“Forgive me,” she said. “I have never had someone so interested in protecting my future. This is quite a wonderful offer. I do not know what to say, but to accept.” This made all three royals smile. Frey, especially had a wide grin on his face. “Though, may I ask one question, um, not quire related to the subject at hand, your Majesties?”
“Speak, girl, this may be your last chance!” the king declared. The queen and prince laughed, though Ulorna felt puzzled at the notion.
“I was wondering, if perhaps you might know why I had been called before the Mage Council, sire.”
