Black Blood

-B2- Chapter 20

'Hey Celeste, I unfortunately couldn't find the half.' I look surprised at Elenor in the doorway. The lady stands with a bag in one hand and the forged list in her other. There is something to be said for the fact that she managed to find a bag full of stuff from that list.

'Give it to Alisha. I have to leave,' I tell her before walking past her out of the house. Night has fallen, the sun has gone to bed and the moon is waking up. I now know the road as if it were my own village. From tomorrow, I will be queen of this village.

That title has haunted me since birth. The life of a queen is not about gold. It is a heavy title, an important one. Beneath all that gold shines the reality of the title but not of power. As a queen, you have as much power as an ordinary chambermaid. It is and remains the king who makes the rules.

Once I dreamed of that crown, that splendour. By now I know better. The title and life is not for me. If the day ever comes when my father finds death by my hand I do not inherit the crown. I am a woman. I could demand it given my position and Elien's condition but I don't want it. A queen with the blood of so many on her hands is not worthy of the crown and the people.

With those thoughts, I walk into the dead quiet temple. The main hall is now fully decorated. White and green decorations hang all over the room. From garlands to balloons, candles to torches. I have to hand it to the elves that they handle the decorations better than the royal family. At my wedding to Christiaan, all the decorations were blue or black, if there were any. I have banished that day in my mind to the extent that I cannot recall the venue clearly in my memories. I want to walk to my room until a voice stops me.

'Lady Celeste.' I look up and see one of the last people I expected to see standing there. Minerva, Walmoet's second wife, is coming my way. The woman in her late thirties still looks like she is in her early twenties. Her brown hair shines in the moonlight. The green dress sways along her body as her bare feet glide across the floor. I have not been able to exchange many words with the woman before so her addressing me is crazy enough.

'Lady Minerva,' I reply. Minerva comes to stand in front of me, looks at my body.

'I hope you feel ready for marriage.' The only thing I do know about the woman is that neat and professional. Real emotion or an opinion you're not going to get from her.

'Certainly, thank you,' I reply with a small smile. She nods and takes a step closer.

'You must understand that the women did not expect your proposal. Neither did the changes in ceremony. Cultural exchange is of course always desirable and that is why we would like to invite you to tea in your white bread days. We would love to hear from you if you can find the time.' Her words are so discreetly chosen that I struggle to decipher her real reasons.

'Thank you. I will be heard from,' I reply.

'Good night,' is the last thing the woman says before she walks away. In confusion, I am left looking at the lady. I had expected one of the women to speak to me again but so kindly did not stand by those expectations.

I shake off the situation and walk to my room. I open the white door and walk into the room. I can be brief about the decoration, everything is white. The wall, the floor, the bed. Here and there is some green decoration but that's all. It is a room used only by the bride-to-be. There is no need for ornate and elaborate decoration. There is a chair, a wardrobe and a bed. Nothing more is needed.

I light the candles, begin to undress and continue getting ready for the night. My last night in this room, my last night without a bond with Walmoet. That I have to marry the man says enough about my marriage partners. A marriage is political, not out of love. I will never marry a man for love, never.