Those Without Wings

TWENTY-EIGHT

The soft, plush mattress pressed into her face as she nuzzled her nose in deeper, a moan escaping her lips as she dug her fingers into the sheets.  The smell of cinnamon and summer flowers filled her nostrils.  Her entire body ached, the dull throb on her feet and burning in calves rivaled the pinched tightness of her shoulder blades.  Sinking further into the bed, Avery laid semi-awake in her chambers, embracing the blankets around her.  She could sleep forever.

A knock echoed from her door.

Groaning, she pushed herself up, tangled and knotted hair falling in her face.  Light streamed through the cracks in the curtain.  Avery rubbed her eyes, turning to sit.  Hugging her knees, she leaned forward and yawned.  "Yes?"

"Your holiness, you were requested to join Elder Whitewing and High Priest Whitewing for lunch," a maid said on the other side of the door.  Avery furrowed her brow.  It couldn't be time for lunch, she had fallen asleep only minutes ago.  Eyes drifting shut, she burrowed further into her comforter.  "Milady?"

"Mmmm?" she hummed, seconds from sleep. 

"May we enter to help you prepare?" the maid asked.  Exhaling, Avery battled against the urge to sent the maid away and sleep for the remainder of the day.  Finally, stretching her arms, she swung out from her bed, shivering as her bare feet touched the cool floor.  A sharp pain shot up her back, flaring at her shoulder blades and wing notches.  Soft moan escaping her lips, Avery clenched her eyes shut, fingers curling tightly around the edge of her mattress.

"You may enter," Avery replied to the servants question, forcing her eyes open as she stood.  A bustle of Nocturnes hurried into her room with fresh clothing and towels, rushing around as they prepared.  Despite her tiredness, a smile tugged on the corner of Avery's lips, Carlos had once teased her about being attended by a handful of servants.  He would have laughed at her if he'd seen them.  The smile fell at the thought of Carlos, locked under the palace in waiting for his trial.  She would speak to Vihane and her father about that today, tell them that the Walker's deserve to go free.

The crease in her brow deepened as she noted that Samia wasn't with the group of fluttering servant.  It surprised her that instead of anger coursing through her veins, an emptiness filled her; she wanted to ask her why.

A maid took Avery's hand, guiding her to the full body mirror as she undid the clasp of Avery's nightgown.  Bare in front of her own reflecting, Avery avoided the harsh reality of her own image.  In the past two weeks, she had grown thinner, rib bones taunting her hunger, and while her skin was no longer beat, her skin flaked and peeled.  While her hair had alway been long, it had become unruly and savage, following its own path.  If the servants thought she looked unholy, they did not remark.  Still, she stiffened as on of the maid's hands lingered on her back, inspecting the wound.  They had brought fresh bandages in with them, to Avery's relief.  She hadn't been able to see the extent of the wound, the way her flesh snarled under the stitches. 

Sensing Avery tense, the maid removed her hand and reached for ointment and the new bandages.  "Whoever stitched and dressed your wounds was a talented practitioner, better than some of the castle's healers."

"Yes," Avery agreed, allowing her to work as the other maids played with her hair and began dressing her. 

The smooth silk of the loose skirt brushed against her skin, cool and foreign, the lightness of it suddenly awkward.  As was the breeze against her back and stomach, the short and flowing halter top leaving her stomach and her back exposed to the elements.  She'd grown use to her back being covered and craved the security of it. 

They laced strands of flowers and golden bead through her hair as they pulled it into a bun atop her head.  Finally, Avery allowed herself to glimpse into the mirror, back straightening as she tried to imagine herself as the High Priestess she was, and yet her reflection fell short.  Unable to pin what it was exactly, she turned away.