Palace Walls

Part Fifteen

  Fear is that shadow lurking in the corner of your mind. Fear is what shivers before a golden veil of light. Fear is that dream you keep having, even when you open your eyes.

While Cyclopes are thirty feet tall, have one eye, teeth curved backwards to trap human prey, and a long tradition of savagery, giants are practically human. --Auntie Bathilde Beraude

 O Your Majesty, your smile is the flame of my heart. With your skill and cunning, your dusky Neo-Jotun magic crumblesmine to bits. And how many souls did you save, when your babe was born on this grave? Your Majesty, you are the only dream I have....

--hymn to the Clotilda, the Peasant-Born Queen

Queen Clotilda sat on the floor, playing with Baby Linden on a moon-phase patchwork quilt. She did everything beneath her royal dignity-- shaking beaded seashell rattle-whistles, stacking clay Amathzuli dolls, and watching him roll. Her other puplets joined in the fun, giggling as they played peek-a-boo with their littlest friend. He gurgled and smiled his gummy smile, flailing his arms that way humanoid babies do when they can hardly contain their happiness.

The Cyclops wet-nurse bustled behind the Queen in her starchy white cap and apron, begging to "halp out" in her funny cave accent. The Queen smiled gently, running a jade-ringed finger across the woman's plump cheek.

"You've nursed all my babies before; this time, I'll nurse this one myself."

"Oh," the Cyclops breathed, gazing at the floor, "I, uh, yer lucky, ma'am."

The Queen perked up, raising an eyebrow. She folded her fist under her chin, like her father did all those years ago.

"How so? Is something the matter with your baby? Does he not eat?"

"I-I have a son. But how did ya know about his feedin'?"

Queen Clotilda folded her hands across an emerald-strewn lap and leaned back in her plump scarlet chair.

"Oh, I...I thought you seemed worried today. I just finished feeding Linden. Perhaps I could give your baby his day-meal, if he's ready."

The wet-nurse's dark eye sparkled with tears.

"Really? Thank ya, ma'am!"

Much to the courtiers' surprise, Queen Clotilda gathered the chubby, one-eyed baby in her big soft arms and cradled him to her own round nourishing breasts. She massaged his pink, plushy neck and back. She sang him soft lullabies-- as she did with her own son. When she handed the baby back to his mother, the Cyclops trembled with joy.

"Ah, ma'am, yer much tew kind!"

But that night, the Prince Consort was far from happy.

"S-Sugar," he whispered, pulling on his nightshirt, "Can we talk?"

"Perfect timing," she replied, "I'd been meaning to talk to you."

The Queen sat on the plump scarlet chair of her vanity. She ran a pearly brush through her waist-length black hair, shivering with rage.

"Why did you do it?"

"Do what, s-s-s-sugar?"

"Be unfaithful to me."

"Well, I...."