The Kept

The Quarrel

The next morning greeted Nerys with all the pain and grief from the day before. Kalea was gone and Nerys was, somehow, betrothed to the man responsible. But without the sedative dulling her senses, she no longer felt weak, helpless, or afraid. Only a calm, intensely focused anger. Prince Gereon would die at her hands today. 

"Good morning, Princess."

The young handmaiden from the night before entered with a bouquet in her hands, and her arms draped in teal, green, purple, and gold silk. She crouched awkwardly to place flowers on the small table before the hearth without upsetting the garment.The heavy petals were a stunning aged gold hue that fell against dark green leaves as though the flowers were weeping.There was a small parchment roll tied to one of the stems:

Dearest Princess,

I sincerely wish to apologize for my conduct last night. Please grant me audience this afternoon so that I may make amends in person. I shall await you in the garden.

Ever yours,

Gereon

Nerys dropped the flowers and note into the fire.

"The prince will not be pleased if you refuse him," the maid said. She was preparing the garment, a full gown with a complex pattern of laces that would be impossible for Nerys put on without help, and had looked up to see the flowers curl and blacken in the flames.

"Well, I mustn't displease the prince, then." Her sarcasm was lost on the handmaid.

The dress was lighter than it looked, and the iridescent skirt fell in waves to her feet. The handmaid cinched the laces a little tighter than necessary and took her leave.

Nerys noticed that the guards were no longer posted before her door as the girl departed. Though escape was unlikely, it would not hurt to check. Her fingers had hardly touched the knob when it swung out and a fair man bowed deeply before her.

"Good morning, Princess," he said rising.

He was tall. Judging by the man's height and muscular build, he was Gereon's response to her threat the night before. Nerys was eye level with his collar, and had to tilt her head up to look at his face. His sandy hair was trimmed neatly just below his ears, and a pert little goatee framed his full lips. His eyes, light green with a burst of gold gilding the pupils, flicked to Nerys's face and then returned to a neutral non-gaze as he offered her his arm.

His clothing was simpler than her previous guards, no embellishments or embroidery to indicate his rank, but far superior in cut and quality. She looked down at her own dress flowing about her and closed her eyes, wishing that when she opened them she would be back in the Esidiem, dozing through a lecture on the special techniques that were unique to each kingdom's Esidiem while Kalea made faces beside her.

Instead, she found the guard peering at her.

"Are you ill?" he asked.

"No," Nerys said with a smile. "I'm feeling much better, actually."

~

Gereon was closely examining a bed of tiny blue and white flowers when she reached the garden. He sent Nerys's guard to join his own personal guard on the far side of the garden, out of earshot, but not so far that they were completely alone. Nerys watched them greet each other with a level of familiarity bordering friendship.

"Princess," Gereon said, breaking the silence. "Please, forgive me for my conduct last night. It was unbecoming of me as a Prince, and inexcusable as your betrothed. I will do everything in my power to make it right."

"Really? You can start by bringing Kalea back from the dead," Nerys said, "I will not have you insult her memory with this shallow, so-called apology."