The Queen's Girl

Kal

Kalati finished everything she put on her plate, plus a few cups of tea. The Queen was very gracious, so she tried to be as well-mannered as she could manage.

"I've called for a hot bath to be drawn for you," Finnula was saying. "Let us take you hence." She stood, and reached for Kal's hand. Confused as to why any noble would want to touch her at all, Kal could only stare at her for a moment. "What is it?" The Queen asked.

"Normally—noble folk—they don't like to touch people like—people like me. We're filth." Kal tried gently to educate. "I don't want to dirty you."

"I do not ascribe to that belief at all," said the Queen, so forcefully that it surprised Kal. "I am the ruler. I am the mother of this nation, and all are my children. Including you. And I intend on bandaging your wounds. Now take my hand, Kal. Do not make a queen wait."

Kal did not. She took her hand. She didn't ask how a Queen knew anything about bandaging wounds. She just knew that at this point, refusing the Queen in any way would be rude. She was also curious as hell. She needed to know more about this enigmatic woman and her fascination with meeting the common man.

And why, why on the planet was she not more involved with the common folk? Who was keeping her away from that Queenly duty?

Kal was taken to a sumptuous bathing room, where a huge in ground bath had been filled with steaming hot water and colorful glittery soaps. She stared at it. The floors were marble and the fixtures were solid gold. If she had the tools she would rob this place blind.

The Queen spoke quietly with a maid just beyond a heavy wood door. Medicine and bandaging were delivered into her hands post haste.

"Out of those rags with you," said Finnula. "Look, I had them bring pajamas and a set of fresh clothes you may take with you when you leave tomorrow."

Kal undressed, blushing a bit hot. She was grateful for the bath, but things were suddenly getting very personal. "Th-thank you, uh, for this kindness. This is really a lot."

"It is nothing," said Finnula. "Into the bath with you. Scrub up well and if you like I will wash your back."

Kal shivered. She felt very exposed. Her nakedness wasn't just a surface issue. She knew every bruise and cut and ugliness that had been visited upon her in the last week were on full display. She didn't want to show the Queen the full extent.

To her surprise, the Queen was quietly furious. "I would know the names of those who did this to you," she said. She reached out and took Kal's hands, gave them a squeeze.

Kal said, "It is over. It is done with. I move on from these things and get smarter or I don't survive."

The Queen had a pensive look on her face. She helped Kal into the bath and let Kal take a few shuddering breaths as the hot water met her aching body. Kal, for her part, loved the heat. It felt so fantastic, even on places that ached the worst.

When next Kal looked, she saw the Queen mixing a medicinal cream on a tray in her lap. She looked so out of place doing this in her fancy gown. "How do you know medicine?" Kal asked curiously.

"In my father's war, I was only allowed to help in the medic tent," the Queen explained. "So I learned quickly how to heal."

"You were a military medic?" Kal was impressed.

"That I was, when I was in my younger years. I saw many horrible things. The war was a stain. Is a stain upon our country. It is my father's legacy. I am trying to renew people's faith in the monarchy now, but finding it difficult to navigate."

"I think you're entertaining the wrong guests at your supper table," Kal blurted out.

"So it would seem." Finnula gave her thief friend a half smile. "Who should I be entertaining instead, little thief?"

"Your people, Your Majesty, and not the ones fat with wealth. The poor ones. The gaunt ones. The ones who cannot repair, or travel, or even bathe frequently. The ones who can barely afford to put food in the mouths of their children, let alone themselves, and when you do feed them, feed them well. Feed them meat they would never see on their own tables. Bake them the heartiest bread. If the poorest among them asks to take food home, send him home with the most food."

The answer seemed to surprise—and please!—the Queen. She said, "Kal, I am grateful you decided to thieve from the Crown. I do not get the joys of honesty often."

Kal gave her a lopsided smile. "I promised you I would be honest, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did."

"Would you wash my back for me, Finnula?"

"Of course, Kal."

"Oh. My name. It's Kalati."

"Kalati. What a beautiful name."