So... I'm helping with White Christmas at BYU. It's a musical, it's really good but really expensive so I don't expect you guys to come. But it's awesome... it also means that I have NO LIFE. I'm being completely serious on this point. I go to school cram as much reading and homework as I can between class and work and then at 5 everyday I come to the HFAC (Tuesdays and Thursdays I work from 11 to 5 so...) Anyway, I basically live at the HFAC. I get home sometimes uber late cause I'm doing homework way past hours. LAME! I also had a test... not exciting. AND I'm trying to have a social life. AHHHHH! BUT~! I'm going to post everyday.
I'm gonna do it.
Now that I've vented. This chapter is a lengthy one of set up and such. She's still... making the necessary changes. And there was a new character that I wasn't expecting that showed up randomly and I had to work that.
My assignment for this chapter: What do you think about the King? About his personality and their relationship?
And now for our Feature Presentation.
Princess Rivalee (Part 4)
One of her first actions as a reformed Princess (It helped to think of herself as a different person, reborn if you will.) was to loiter in the kitchens. Chaos and talk reigned here- and a fierce, plump woman that was known simply as Cook. The constant work kept nosy servants in their own business and not in Riva’s. It allowed the Princess to simply observe, sipping at the soup that was to cure her stuffed nose.
After all of the questions and contemplation on the Kingdom itself and on how it should be ruled and the problems it faced. Riva couldn’t help but draw a parallel between it and the kitchen. Here cook was the Queen, she made all final decisions and had to quickly fix any and all major problems that couldn’t be solved by her underlings. There were those she trusted with certain areas of the kitchen, a baker, sous chef, pastry chef, etc... here were her nobles. They in turn were in charge of others. There was a loosely formed hierarchy among the rest. Those who had more experience were in charge, even if they were younger.
Riva quickly noticed that there weren’t many problems that made it to Cook, no one wanted to get in range of her ladle. There were liberal whacks and whumps, when someone low in the hierarchy came with a problem or question that could’ve been solved by going somewhere else.
It took several days for Riva to finally spot Cook’s second in command. He was a thin older man and the only variance in his expressions was a blink or twitch of a lip or eyebrow. He had a calm, serious and relaxed demeanor. It was a complete contrast to Cook. Although he had very little to actually do in the kitchen he seemed to be in complete synchronization with the kitchen and with Cook. He understood how things fit together, how people would work together.
He’s the real force behind all of this. Riva shook her head in disbelief. Does the King have someone like him? Someone in the background, quietly making things go smoothly?
After a few days when the servants got used to her presence, Riva started to quietly ask questions. Innocent ones, how did this or that work? She always looked for those who could work and talk at the same time, well aware of Cook’s all seeing and glaring eyes. Ergil (second in command) was an excellent source of information and had insights that Riva had never considered. She would often talk with him for hours on end, trying to glean as much as she could from his experiences.
Riva found it easier to talk with Ergil than with some of the younger servants. They were painstakingly aware of the enormous gap in social standing and intelligence and their minds were constantly on the opposite sex. Besides she was used to talking to old men, all of her instructors were old men.
“Do you think I could help?” Riva asked once.
Ergil smiled-the kind he only showed to her- understanding the feeling of being completely useless. “I’m afraid you would be more of a hindrance than a help, Princess. These people are trained to do this. You are not. Let them do their work and you do yours.” Under his breath he whispered, “Cook would probably have a fit if you tried to peel potatoes.”
Riva couldn’t help but imagine cutting her own finger open on one of the sharp knives and having Cook red-facing and huffing flutter around her, terrified she’d lose her position. Riva put a hand over her mouth, covering her smile.
Ergil gave her a look, by the way his mouth was tightened she could tell he was laughing inside too. (She had learned from a young age to read adults’ slightest expressions. Many would say one thing when they meant another.)
Sighing, Riva put her head in her hand. “Ergil, how am I supposed to get to know people if they won’t let me talk to them?”
“You don’t need to get to know them.”
Riva perked up a question in her eyes.
He continued. “That is not the role of a ruler: to know every single subject. Just to do what is best for the realm. You need people who will speak in their stead, others who know them. You can’t possibly do all of the listening yourself.”
Riva grinned wryly, “Like you do?”
He nodded.
“I would still like to know what it’s like to know...” She drifted off, musing to herself.
As if Ergil could hear her wistful thoughts he called, “Mira!”
A small stout girl with dark hair pulled in a bun about the age sixteen, left her rushing about and came to him. “What is it?”
“Mira this is Riva, she wishes to accompany you as you look for supplies in the market today. Would you be willing to take her along?”
Riva was impressed, he was both rewarding her and punishing her. She couldn’t dare refuse and yet he put it in a polite tone that made her think she had the choice. I really need to study diplomacy. Riva muttered fiercely to herself.
Mira wrung her hands, but agreed.
Riva had been able to borrow a worn but clean set of servants garb as she wasn’t to go out with an escort and she certainly didn’t want to attracts attention to herself. Mira was nervous and jumpy the entire time, but Riva just smiled and tried to remain calm despite the butterlies thrashing about in her stomach.
The city itself was stinky and smelly. The roads were sloshy with mud and snow. Riva moved slowly, trying to take in everything. She felt sorry for Mira, who was hopping from foot to foot, ill at ease with a princess and chores to be doing. Ergil wouldn’t be angry though, Riva was sure. Beggars seemed to smell money from miles away, they would throng around them. Riva who had never had any dealing with beggars before watched and talked to them with open curiosity. Mira shooed them away and kept her wallet and basket well out of reach. Many had rags on their feet for shoes, Riva could count ribs between the holes cloth of their shirts. It brought tears to her eyes. She imagined Glen in place of one of the boys and reached for her own purse, but she hadn’t brought one.
She bit her lip hard, wanting to do something.
Mira grabbed her arm and pulled her away. Whispering angrily, “They’ll rob ya blind, have ye no sense!?”
Riva just sighed.
City people have no time for you. They have business to do and unless you are a customer you’d better watch out. Those who did stop and chat rarely had anything intelligible to say. Riva followed Mira and watched the haggling in the stalls. Smell and colors assaulting her, it was overwhelming.
Riva convinced Mira to take her to all the districts of the city, just to walk around. She wanted to get a feel for the type of people who lived there. Mira didn’t say anything aloud, but Riva could see the worry. She didn’t want to get in trouble with Cook.
Riva’s favorite was the Trader’s District. It had cobblers, smithies (these were always warm), leather workers, carpenters, jewelers, potteries, and all kinds of people who worked with their hands. They stopped at temples and Mira would quickly give a description so of each god or religion. Riva herself had never had a need to believe in a supreme beings. Now as she looked up into the faces of the serene statues she began to wonder.
“Which district is this?” Riva asked noticing the change in the style of housing.
“Military.” Mira informed her gloomily.
Stomping alerted them of a platoon coming from their left.
“Glen!” Riva yelled. She gasped and wished that she could disappear. Dread sinking in.
His head turned and his eyes widened. He muttered something to a uniformed man next to him and then yelled several names. Glen brought marched forward with six men and the rest of the platoon continued on their way.
“Princess,” He swept into a bow and snapped stiffly into attention.
She curtsied automatically and introduced Mira. He bowed and Mira attempted to curtsy. Riva kept her eyes down, heart pumping furiously, her face red hot.
“Princess, you shouldn’t be out here.” He signaled to his men and they fell in around her. “We will escort you back to the palace.”
Riva’s head came up. “Why shouldn’t I be out here? I have every right to see the city as you do-”
The creases between Glen’s brows softened, in a quiet but firm voice he said, “There have been rumors of spies among the men. I’m willing to trust their word, especially after the skirmish we had only a week ago.”
“Spies?” Riva whispered, shocked.
Glen nodded, brooding. “I don’t think it’s safe for you out here.” He stayed close to her side, left hand over his sword checking to make sure it was clear of it’s scabbard. “It’s unlikely that they would try anything in the open but-” He took in her appearance. “who would notice a maid among many going missing?” His eyes raked the people they passed, his men closed in tighter around them.
“Surely no one would recognize me. I never go outside.” Riva whispered, also looking at the crowds with new eyes.
Glen just pursed his lips.
“Glen-” Riva started, but by then it was too late. They were rushing up the steps to the palace. Glen spoke with the guard and they were through.
“Glen, do you have any proof? Do you have any idea of who they are-”
“All I can tell you is that someone very high up has been leaking numbers and plans.” Glen interrupted hurriedly, glancing around nervously. “Now hush, I have to take you to your father.”
Blood drained form Riva’s face. She had completely forgotten about the King and the consequences of her actions. “No- No, Glen, please take me back to my study or- or the kitchens, please-”
“Haven’t you been paying attention? We’ve been summoned to the throne room.” He looked down at her. Her expression had gone blank, dull. He laid a hand on her shoulder willing strength into her. “Come on, stand up straight. He’s only your father.”
“You can only say that because he’s not your father.” She whispered. The huge doors opened. Her head came up, back straightened and despite her, stinky and muddy clothes, she looked utterly regal.Glen stepped back, in awe. It was like she was a different person.
Her expression was strong, yet aloof, calm and composed. She knelt before the king. Back still straight as a board, head up in defiance.
The King’s face, in contrast, was heavy and weary. Shoulder length white hair curled from under his crown. He had a hand on his chin, eyes glowering. He was dressed in furs. The palace was not as warn as it had been earlier in the day. A massive broadsword was leaning against the throne within easy reach.
The silence in the room was deafening and it lasted for a solid minute.
Neither the Kind of the Princess moved.
“Why...” the deep bass of the King broke the spell. “Why were you gallivanting through the city in a time of WAR? Why have you been neglecting your studies and WHY-” he paused to stand, only growing more intimidating. “Why are you dressed as a servant in your own castle?” His voice echoed through the hall, falling and any and all ears.
Riva winced once and went still.
Silence reigned.
In a much calmer voice the King continued, “You are not to leave your study again. The Court Magician has knowledge enough to continue your education. He will also bring you meals and anything else you require.” His voice went cold and soft. “I never thought I would see such a defiling act from you.” With that he turned away, waving his hand.
It was a clear dismissal. Riva stood with only a slight tremble and made her way to the great doors. her head was still erect, eyes straight ahead. But as soon as she out of the King’s sight, Glen saw tears and her shoulders slump in defeat.
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