The Tributes (Sable)

The Other Tributes

Then, the very next second, without a single shred of warning, the Queen's expression suddenly shifted completely into a blank stare; like her emotions had suddenly shut off to nothing. 

And Sable stared in utter bewilderment.

But she only had a moment to view the change before the Queen whirled around and started sailing back to her throne. "Keep her with the others," the Empress ordered with a careless wave, not even looking back at her as two guards hurried forward to grab Sable and drag her away.

Sable almost resisted their pull to stare at the Queen for a moment, still completely nonplussed by the sudden change she was sure she'd witnessed in her demeanor. But the bruising grips on her arms saved her from making that obvious lapse in judgment, and she surrendered quickly enough to their efforts.

Sable had had to depend on these face-reading skills of hers enough times back in her village that she didn't doubt what she'd seen. Besides, as scared as she'd been, there was no way she would have imagined such an abruptly neutral expression. She might have even imagined malice or cruelty, perhaps, but not that ... that blandness.

However, as the second set of tall doors Sable was dragged through shut behind her, cutting off any possible view of both the Queen and her courtiers, all thoughts about the Queen's abrupt change of mood disappeared as she suddenly found that she could breathe freely again. And her body immediately took the opportunity to heave in a huge gulp of air.

The guard on her left turned to her slightly at the sound. But Sable didn't care, because all he did was give her a momentary glance before he turned away again. And being able to breathe like that had somehow made her fear of the entire situation diminish a little.

She'd known the air in the room was heavy; that she'd been terrified to be under the gaze of the Black Queen and all those courtiers. But she hadn't realized that it had affected her on such a basic, physical level too. 

So she now found herself disproportionately glad and relieved that she was out of there. For, while her situation was still unknown and dangerous, at least she didn't have the Queen's undivided attention anymore. And that certainly couldn't do any worse for her chances of survival.

Sable next found herself unceremoniously shoved into a smaller room some ways down an empty hall, hearing the doors slam behind her as she stumbled inelegantly forward. And, on looking up, she was startled to find herself under the scrutiny of about a dozen other girls clustered in the room.

A quick glance around the room revealed that there were no adults in sight, though, and that helped ease Sable's nerves a little more. For, while these girls were all strangers, their huddled and wary countenances suggested that they were as new to this situation as she was.

The cumulative stares of the other girls only lasted about a minute or so before they decided she was nothing particularly special to see. So she returned the favor by taking them in as quickly as she could as well:

They were all girls around her age, from the looks of it – barring two to three years of age difference, perhaps. Some were pretty well-dressed and obviously the more sheltered kind. And the way their eyes slid over her when they caught her looking, the way their mouths twisted slightly before they looked away again, told Sable quite clearly that they were regarding her like one would politely ignore a pile of dung on the road.

Well, fine, Sable thought, unoffended. The dress she was wearing was one of the best her village could afford. But she knew that, other than actually donning the dress, there was not a single thing she'd done to make herself more presentable. She knew she wasn't some great beauty. So trying would hardly have made a difference anyway.

Besides, the leers of the guards who had come to collect her village's tribute hadn't exactly encouraged her to make an effort.

Observing the other girls before her, it was pretty easy to see from the girls' attires who had come from well-off towns and villages and who had arrived from the more impoverished ones. But, while most of the more stylishly clad girls seemed to have grouped together, there were a few that stood apart.

In fact, one girl particularly stood out to Sable: She had brown eyes and silky black hair done up in a pretty elaborate do, and was dressed opulently in a satin red gown that was trimmed with pearls. A rope of pearls was even wound around her neck, which was basically a sure sign of aristocracy; no one else would have given an unmarried girl something so obviously valuable.

The only thing that didn't fit the girl's overall look were the dark circles under her eyes.

Sable didn't often notice or care about physical or facial flaws most of the time. But, considering how the girl's already pale face was decorated with rouge and lip paint and loose curls and pearl earrings, the dark circles were remarkably striking in contrast. 

However, even more than that, her brown eyes were averted to make eye contact with no one. And the anguish, terror, and rage in her expression kept Sable staring at her... until the girl finally felt the scrutiny, looked in Sable's direction, and gave her a scowling glare that promised pain if she did not look away.

Sable flushed and did look away then, but not because of the obvious threat. She was embarrassed that she could be so insensitive; to just gawk at someone so obviously in pain ... But, it was just that the girl's misery was so tangible that Sable had simply been arrested by it!

Pulling herself together, Sable glanced at the less opulent girls in the room. And again, there were differences. Some seemed to be pretty decently dressed and made up, although not as richly attired as the first group obviously was. And then, there were ones who were more or less dressed up in patched-up rags; clean for the most part, but obviously coming from very poor areas of the kingdom.

Technically, Sable knew she belonged to the final group herself. But the dress she wore gave a slightly higher impression of her background and home village than what was true. So she instead looked like someone who fit between the second, mediocre group and the third, practically destitute group.

Finally, with a cautionary glance at the door behind her, she gingerly moved towards the latter part of the crowd. However, she did stop at a point where she was still standing apart from the entire group of girls as a whole.

Noting the speculative and surmising gazes that were shot her way, though, she understood that these girls were unwilling to have her join them anyway.

She just inwardly shrugged: Apparently, even strangers could sense that she did not fit in.

Sable had about five minutes to brood on this thought and her situation before the doors slammed open again.