Palace Walls

Part Twenty-Three

                                                                         

"To the porcelain queen, there isn't anything more cathartic than shattering into several bright pieces. Being put back together— all jagged shards —isn't the frilly lace-edged peace humans think it is. It's pain. It's sorrow. It's change."

--old Amathzuli saying

When Cookie stepped into the Queen's parlor, she didn't expect to see Her Majesty behind a desk-- much less an ivory sewing-desk. She looked almost human with pearl-tipped pins held between her teeth, with a needle and thread in her hand. It wasn't clear what she was making, but it appeared to be something soft and white, while the thread was bright turquoise. Cookie watched the Queen work. She looked almost Cyclops with her hair curling around her waist, with the bags under her eyes, without a pinch of makeup. Cookie relaxed and settled in a soft chair across from the Queen.

"Your Majesty, I'm impressed by your creativity!"

"I'm only doing this because that damn seamstress cancelled on me," grunted the Queen, "But I'm doing as well as her...I think."

Cookie nodded, folding her hands behind her back.

"No need for her, anyway. You sew beautifully."

"Thank you."

"Actually, Your Majesty, thinking of working women and all...." She shuddered; the Queen had raised an angry brow. "Would you mind if a got a second job?"

"You don't have to ask me to do anything," the Queen answered sharply, "You're a full-brained woman, for the Goddess' sake!"

"Yes, well, as a servant...."

The Queen folded her arms across her chest and exhaled slowly, as if the life was being seeped out of her.

"As a servant, you have the same rights as anyone else. I never told you otherwise."

"Well, Cyclopes are...it's strange to think of us as queens."

"Are you trying to tell me I'm responsible for your species' status?!"

"No, I simply didn't realize-- I could have gotten a job a long time ago!"

The Queen removed a pin from between her teeth and jammed into the dress. She continued stitching the pale gown with flashy turquoise thread.

"Provided you still work for our family, I have no objection."

"Now, Your Majesty, I don't mean to be rude, but...If I have all these freedoms, as you say, why do I still have to work for you?"

The Queen faced her blankly, her dark eyes cold and glassy-- almost like a doll's.

"Because," she snapped, "That's just the way it is."

Ever the matronly figure, Cookie chuckled into her hand and patted the Queen on the shoulder. Her Majesty's eyes bulged, as if the old Cyclops' hand was a poisonous spider.

"Oh, my pearl," Cookie cooed, "I fear you can do better than that!"

"Than the answer I gave? It's not headache philosophy, Cookie, it's the clearest answer I know!"

"Would you take it as clearly if I told you something complicated about yourself?"

"Myself? Hmm, that depends on the complication."

"Oh, I don't know...like Lady Salmon murdered your parents?"

Cookie froze. She felt terrible throwing such painful memories in Her Majesty's face, but she had no choice. There was only so much grumbling and head-shaking she could take, especially with an issue so close to her heart. Ka-chink! The Queen jumped, the pins spilling from her mouth and clinking onto the table. Her eyes widened, her mouth growing wider and wider.