A Veil of Betrayal

Chapter Two.

Layle pauses to wipe the sweat off her forehead. She has been scraping the remaining fur off a cow for the last hour, and her arms throb in pain. To make matters worse, Eve's head was pounding, so she went to lie down, leaving Layle to do a two person job on her own. The tannery was dark and damp, with the only light coming through the few slants in the roof and a few holes in the thatch, half full buckets collecting the slow dripping of water from seemingly nowhere, and the strong smell of saltwater brine, acid and stale air was hurting her head too. She puts the hide down and staggers out the wooden door, gulping down big breaths of air and shaking out her hands and stretching her arms. The sun was beginning to set, casting a watery orange on the horizon. She screws up her eyes as she stares into it. A light breeze ruffles the leather drying on a line in front of her, and makes the waterwheel creak. She hears her brothers returning from their hunting trip,  their loud voices wafting through the air, seemingly happy with their catch, and dries her hands on her gown before heading back inside to greet them. Still, their arrival reminds her how much more work she needs to get done before nightfall, and her back aches in misery. 

Eve is sick. It was obvious. Her voice was hoarse, her skin flushed and she was shivering, even with two cloaks and Layle's hemp blanket on top of her. Layle paces up and down, biting her thumbnail, as Eve leaves out small groans in the midst of a fever dream. Her father sits at the kitchen table, his beer nearly untouched. "We-" His voice breaks. "We don't have the money for a medic." He finally says. "No amount of re-counting our coins will somehow conjure up more." Layle's other brothers all are sat in different parts of the room, Sath in the shadows, his dark handsome face barely visible, Robart with his back to all of them, pouring himself his second drink and Flyfn on the ground, tracing his fingers through the dust and dirt absentmindedly. "There has to be something we can do for her. We can't just sit around and do nothing." Robart croaks out, running a calloused hand over his face. They stay in silence for a few minutes, all lost in thought until Layle stops pacing and turns to them. "I'll get a job in the Castle." Immediately, her father shakes his head. "No. No, Layle, this is our family trade. We need you." "We need Eve." She hisses back. "I'll- I'll be able to get a better wage than what we earn in half a week. Besides, all the Doctors of Lockbroalm are trained in their infirmity. I can find medicine and receive money there. Father- we're nearly out of money. We barely have enough to feed us, as it is, and now Eve is sick-" Declon slams his fist on the table, shaking the pint glasses on the table, causing the barm to spill and dribble down the sides, interrupting her. When he meets her gaze, he seems to have aged another ten years. "I can't have you leave me too, Layle." He says softly but not weakly. Layle's eyes burn but she blinks the moisture away quickly. "I'll go tomorrow."

 
                               ❦                                     ❦                                       ❦

The sun had barely risen by the time Layle left everything she knew. The dirt path leading into Bârân, formed by the hundreds of times she had made her way into the town seems longer than it usually is, the trees around her still and eerily quiet without the sound of dozens of different birds chirping. The giant castle looms in the distance, perched on the top of a hill, breath taking and imposing. For five hundred years, the Osanos had ruled Lockbroalm, through revolutions and civil war, through Golden Ages and plagues. The view from the turrets must be magnificent, Layle muses, as she trudges closer to it, morning dew dampening her leather boots. The tops of the castle aren't even visible anymore, with mist caressing the highest points. Already, there are people working, guards standing by the drawbridge, their breath misting in front of them and their weapons glinting ominously. Layle begins to realise that she doesn't actually have a way into the castle. Will they accept her if she says she just wants to work? Is there some sort of procedure she should have known about? Her thoughts are quickly put to ease as the guards, as intimidating as they look, actually let her in without much resistance, just telling her she is to find the Queen. Layle passes by gardeners, planting flowers in the manicured gardens, and hears the clanging sound of blacksmiths at work, accompanied by some neighing. Many servants hurry around the grounds, and with some directions, and a few unnecessary loud sniffs from some, telling her she needs to take advantage of clean water here,  guide her to Queen Summur Osanos, standing in the middle of the large marble hallway, bossing around scared maids. Layle barely has time to gawk at the beauty of the hall before being taken aback at the luxury that practically oozes from Summur. She wears a long, rich red velvet dress with a heavily embroidered neckline, sleeves, and hemline. Her long blonde hair extravagantly braided, curled, and embellished with jewellery and feathers, and a tall conical hat balances on top of her small head. Her chin is sharp and narrow, her throat long and her features elegant,  a finely chiselled nose with a small pink mouth complimented with her large shiny eyes. She seems to be the epitome of health. She is everything Layle wishes she could be. Swallowing the bitter taste in her mouth, she approaches the Queen and curtsys deeply. The Queen places her hand under Layle's chin and raises her head, examining her with a soft smile. "What a beauty you are, child. What is your name?" Layle meets her green eyes. "Layle Farley, Your Royal Highness." "You don't work here, do you Layle?" "No, Your Majesty," Layle admits. "I was hoping to get a job. My sister is sick, and I need to provide for my family." The Queen gazes at her for a few seconds, before running two fingers on a curl of Layle's hair gently. "Well, lucky for you, Layle Farley, we need some new Kitchen staff."