Kingdom in The Sand

The Lady of The Palace

"My Lady?"

Marie-Fey and her ladies stopped at the call and looked back down the hall. Her brow rose in surprise at the sight of Natheer, one of the male slaves who was allowed to pass freely between the two palaces.

He handled many of the affairs of the palace and the state and, when he needed to, he would call on the advice of the women's palace.

But he never approached Marie-Fey, for conversation or advice.

"Yes?" she said, eyeing him suspiciously.

"I hoped I might seek the advice from the lady of the palace," he said, stopping in front of her and bowing low, his dark skin shining in the heat.

Marie-Fey's brow rose even higher in surprise. She flicked her eyes to her ladies, Gharam and Maanah returning her look with a sidelong glance.

"Advice on what?" she asked, looking back at Natheer.

"It is a matter of state, in the absence of Our Lord, I hoped you might advise. Perhaps illuminate or elaborate on ideas already in place."

Marie-Fey stared at him.

"Two years and you're only now asking my advice?' she asked, folding her arms.

She didn't miss his wince and she tilted her head slightly, her blue eyes locked on his black ones, waiting for him to make his excuses.

"You were new to our land, My Lady," he said, "Our Lord's mother handled everything and then, with her passing, you were still too new for us to put such pressures on you. But you have been here two years now, you must know something of your state and we wish to hear your opinion on the matter."

"Is that so?" Marie-Fey said slowly, her eyes narrowing.

A lovely laugh suddenly rang out behind them and they turned to see Zaafira walking towards them, her maids trailing behind her.

She was dressed in peach, her light brown hair tumbling down her shoulders. She was one of the few women in the palace who Marie-Fey thought could honestly give Maanah a challenge for the most beautiful – though Maanah had the better personality which always helped improve one's appearance.

When Marie-Fey had first arrived, The Lord's mother had still been alive. Marie-Fey had never guessed the woman's age, she had already been dying and looked skeletal and repulsive – and being cooped up in a dark room so she could rest constantly hadn't helped her complexion.

But Marie-Fey had adored her.

She had expected to be rebuffed or hated by the woman, an outsider daring to set foot on her domain, (despite her having played a hand in the marriage). Someone who had not been trained in the palace did not really have a place there. She had expected the same response that had greeted her from the other women.

Instead Sahla had been kind and gentle, clever as anything despite her dying state but she had taken Marie-Fey under her wing from the second she had walked through the doors, warning her that she might never truly be welcomed by the ladies of the palace but to always remember that she was above them. Marie-Fey had needed to take that advice to heart because she could not have been more correct.

Sahla had only lived six months into Marie-Fey's residence before succumbing to her illness.

If her son returned from the capital to attend his mother's funeral, Marie-Fey didn't know. She never heard from him and she did not attend.

She said her goodbyes in the palace and prepared herself to face the world without her guide as, suddenly, the most powerful woman in the state.

Before she had arrived however, Zaafira had been second only to Sahla.