Flock

Chapter 32

At the foot of the stair, I had to carry the tray. We left the cart at the bottom and I strained under the piles of food and tea as we ascended. Lugh was at the top waiting for me. He scurried down the hallway and rapped twice on a large white door. The door was decorated with gold filigree in swirling patterns.  The door swung open and Lugh stepped inside, holding the door for me.

The room was enormous. Almost twice the size of the throne room; which is what I had come to call the room that housed the Kriyfem chair. There were eleven elaborate, gilded chairs situated in a circle, and a massive dais at the other end of the room, where another chair sat, elevated above the others.

Prewta occupied the chair on the dais; her long white hair braided and draped over her left shoulder. Her gown a shimmering emerald color, with sheer, belled sleeves, hid her feet. A golden circlet sat on her head, draped across her forehead, a small Kriyfem stone dangling from the center.

Lugh fixed the tray; a few things had rolled from their proper place during my ascent. His nimble fingers made quick work of the tray and then he stepped back and disappeared back into the hallway.

The eleven Kryjia females were similarly dressed in finery. They were seated with perfect posture, their faces perfectly impassive. They barely blinked when Lugh and I entered. I wheeled the tray forward taking cues from the guards against the wall. I set the tray down on the small side table and moved to step away.

"Tea, two sugars." Prewta didn't even look at me as she stared across the room. I hadn't seen her since the day in her garden. I poured her a cup and stirred in her requested sugar.

"I think we've had enough time to discuss, Kysti," a voice boomed from across the hall. I moved to hand Prewta the cup when my eyes cast to the speaker. Ghrat was seated in a chair against the far wall, his blue skin much darker than the women seated around the circle. In my surprise the delicate cup slipped from my fingers. It shattered at my feet; splashing up my legs and Prewta's dress.

Every eye was on me. "I'm so sorry," I stammered, dropping down to my knees and collecting the shards. I felt their eyes boring holes into me as they stared at the clumsy human servant. And then, a sharp stab in my hand jolted me into pure panic. The blood welled up, and dripped onto the floor. Prewta launched herself out of her seat and stepped in front of me, addressing the crowd in front of her.

"You make an excellent point, Ghrat. We will adjourn for today. I request the council's presence tomorrow for a final ruling."

"I don't think you need further time for deliberation," Ghrat argued. He stood, his eyes looking beyond Prewta as I scrambled to stem the flow of blood with a napkin behind her skirts.

"Your presence will not be required tomorrow, Ghrat. Dinner should be served soon, and I must change." Pretwa grimaced down at her dress with disdain. When no one moved, Prewta's voice turned icy. "Dismissed." 

The eleven female Kryjia stood immediately and filed out of the room without a sound. Ghrat was less inclined to leave. Instead he approached the dais like a predator stalks toward its prey. Prewta turned toward me her eyes flashing. My hand was securely wrapped in the napkin; the blood soaked up from the floor.

"That order also applies to you, human." I immediately got to my feet, my eyes cast down at her shoes and backed down off the dais. Prewta watched me for a few steps and then turned her fierce gaze on Ghrat. I slipped out of the room and hovered by the door to watch their exchange.

"Was I not clear? You've been dismissed."

Ghrat laughed and waved her comment off. "Do you truly believe I answer to you?"

"When you are within my chamber, yes."

"Ah, kysti, you hold no power here. You are merely the keeper of the histories. You and your council, are our figure heads. Pretty faces of their regions. None of you will remain in the illusion of power long if you allow such filth to continue to cause unrest within our world."

"The council is the ruling body. I simply oversee their discussions and provide guidance based on history. History much older than you. This may be one of the first stirrings of rebellion you have witnessed Ghrat, but it is certainly not mine."

"Ah, yes, you are timeless, aren't you?" he mocked her. Prewta smiled; the expression not reaching her eyes.

"I've also witnessed attempts at cous," she said softly, leaning toward Ghrat. "You will do well to remember that in five hundred years, I've ferreted out those greedy creatures and put an end to their overreaching aspirations. No one even remembers their names." Prewta straightened up, and this time truly smiled at him as she breezed past him. "The council of twelve will vote on your request for war, tomorrow. Our vote will be final."

Prewta came through the doors with a fury I only just managed to dodge out of the way of. Her gaze settled on me momentarily and then her hand shot out and grabbed me by the elbow, squeezing tightly as she dragged me down the hall as quickly as I could move.

I didn't dare speak. There was something very dangerous in her controlled fury. My arm felt tingly, as if it were going numb under her vice grip. She shoved me through a set of white doors into a massive bedchamber. A four-poster bed was off to the right side of the room and on the left, there was sunken sitting area with a fireplace. The windows were the most beautiful; they were ceiling high, arched windows that looked out onto the gardens Pretwa had shown me the last time I had seen her.

Prewta locked the door behind us and rounded on me, eyes flashing silver in her fury. "What in the world were you doing bringing me tea?"

"Merda sent me—"

"Why?"

"Everyone else is better at the cooking, and there's an important—"

"Let me be a bit clearer in my question: why are you working as a servant?"

"Because," I sighed. "I felt the need to be useful in some way. It gives me something to do."

My legs felt weak, and I remembered I hadn't eaten anything all day. "Do you mind if I sit?" I asked. Things were becoming fuzzy, tinged with whiteness at the edges of my vision.

"Not at all," Prewta said. She came to join me as I selected a seat; my legs wobbling beneath me. The world was titling beneath me. I reached out and tried to grasp the arm of the small sofa but the world spun again and it slipped out of reach, my hand closing on air. I crashed to the ground; pain radiating up my knee and elbow as it made harsh contact with the wood floors.

I heard Prewta gasp as I slipped into unconsciousness.

*I based my throne room around the Knights of the Round Table; essentially a council that acts as a parliament or Senate with a final ruling hand.
**Image credit: https://co.pinterest.com/pin/703968985477954068/