Dobrik
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It was the first day of fall and the ninth year of Layna's Life. She drew the vails and laid a gown down with a corset on top. A cold breeze from the west set the vails up and revealed a field of houses and markets. "Good morrow, princess" an old voice declared. It was Layna's handmaid, Anika. Layna yawned with a morning breath and rubbed her eyes until they got red and foggy. She sat on her bed with her eyes barely open for a little while, as Anika continued preparing her clothes.
"The hour has grown late," the woman complained as she was running around the room. "Get off your mattress now". She was an only child with no siblings, but the castle was sated of children, and Layna was the youngest.
The castle was just another castle – though it was royal - you could run around for hours and see nothing but old cocky men whose only job was to be noble, and God-worshippers who would spank your hand if you dared not memorize your prayers.
Honestly, Layna hated her boring life in this boring castle with these boring people. Every day was the same. First, she would get dressed to break her fast early with the sun. then she would sit with maije Morell and learn her prayers. Morell was horrible, she was loud and old and she was always in a bad temper. She was worse than the old cocky men. Luckily her lessons were no longer than an hour, and so…After her lesson is done, she would go out to the gardens and seek the oak tree for gloom. She would always get kicked back inside by the older teens. Layan is only Nine. The other kids were older than fourteen, and they were rude and never gave her a break. but Most days – if she was lucky to get the oak tree for herself – Layna would sit under its dark and wonder what it is like outside the city walls, or let alone, outside the castle's walls. they were taller than any house in the city.
Her mother always made sure she knows that the outside world is cruel and deceitful. When she becomes of age, she must know how to protect herself.
"Your name brings allies, and those allies will protect your name". the queen always used to say these words. And she had a bigger wish for her child than to be a little princess. she wished her to be the queen after her death and carry her name.
"When you marry to a man, you will keep your name strong and proud and will rule this realm", she would add. Orla was only the queen-in-law, awaiting for a male heir to the throne. The king's death left a woman and a girl to be the fate of the realm. The men of the castle did not like that. It was a small council of the crown. Lord Ranfry had been named the hand by the king, and the high maije was given power over the city guard; worshiping the gods became a must-do in the city…and the laws relied on the gods too.
Orla was never a believer, she despised the high maije, he was a snake and a liar and always sinned. And he took advantage of his power. she would doubt his faith consistently.
The other men in the council were nothing but pawns on a chess board, they would only fill a chair on the table and give their opinions that never made a point.
At daybreak, they called urged to the throne room. A man has been brought from the hills upfront the city, barely alive. His wear was soaked with blood and he had no sword or weapon to his side. The man, carried inside by two guards, had a frightened look on his face. He whimpered and cried and stunk of sweat, the smell went flying around the pillars of the hall.
Orla sat on the throne and had Ranfry standing by her right. He was a grey man of the Longwoods and wore all grey with shades of black. His hair was aging and it showed white roots. He was a man of fifty…two decades older than the queen.
"Your name, bastard!" demanded lord Ranfry. With his hands held behind his back. The man did not speak, he stared and looked around the floor, rubbing his hands together with such a terrifying smile on his face. When he came to ask the man again, Orla cut his breath and spoke first. Her patience was no more. "You either speak or die, and I will not waste any more of my time". They waited less than a blink, and he didn’t speak. The queen stood up and walked down the little stairs of the stage where the throne sat. she asked lord Ranfry to take Layna out as she passed by him and drew her sword. She was not a fine queen, That’s true. But she sure knew how to wield a sword. Orla would have been a great knight, if only she did not wed the king at the age of seventeen.
The sky got dark and dense and the mist grew taller over the ground. Orla was left alone in the room with the madman, and soon thunder started forming shapes and sounds. She stood in front of him and looked low at him.
by the name of the sworn cities and the kingdom of Nordin, I sentence you to die.
The queen held the blade with her two hands and drew it far above the head, and for a mere second, she released her muscles to decapitate the man. But then his eyes turned wet and looked up to Orla, he spoke and she listened.
"I have seen the devil", he said with a weird tone that smiled of fear. "Are you ready for the devil my queen?" he finished and immediately filled the room with horrifying laughter. The queen's face displayed concern, but quickly she frowned and had enough of this play. She cut the man's head in one stroke as she let a little yell. The man drowned into his own blood that had worn Orla's face when it splashed.
A loud creak of doors made the queen jump, the man's words did not tease her. The look on his face did. It was a horrendous one, and she looked right at it. Too closely. The man's eyes were black and sweaty and she saw her reflection in them.
Two of the royal guardsmen walked in and carried the man's body out with his head in a sack. Orla watched as his blood painted the floor in a line.
The hour grew past midday, and the sky got even darker and foggier. "Care to give a hand?" one of the two guards said as they were burying the body. The other one laughed and laid against a tree. The clouds took over half the sky behind the city, and the man saw. "Hurry up," he said, although he did not help. "I don’t wish to get all soaked".
Layna sat next to the window in her room and put her chin up to the rail and watched as the sky cried, she loved to watch the rain. But soon thunder and light began to riot; Anika walked in, she knew Layna would be on the window so she tapped her shoulder and moved her aside. "The airs are too dangerous, and were too high up in the airs" she warned the princess. Layna insisted to stay and watch as it rained. She liked watching storms.
Anika sealed the window with a heavy log and warned the princess once again. She left her bored in her room and she was not even allowed to leave for the garden. The thunder still echoed through the towers of the keep, the rain hit the walls and made the castle shake. Layna had enough dwelling in her room and sneaked her way out. Outside of the door was a long hallway with doors spread across the walls, each one leading to an even bigger room. At the end of it were the stairs, they were big and swirly and they had been covered with red marble from the cryl islands. She glimpsed at the stairs and turned quickly around to look for guards. She found no one, and she knew that was her opportunity to run. And so she did. Sprinting to the stairs her breath got heavy and as she finally made it to the first step, a voice called. Layna froze in her place and looked with her eyes only back. Orla stood with a mad face. "Back inside" she ordered her child. When Layna let out a sigh of surrender and gazed down, Orla turned to leave. But the princess continued.
"I know you killed him". Orla let out a breath of surprise, she took that breath back and blinked slowly. Layna said it quickly, she did not think. Her eyes lowered in shame. But she was curious. The queen turned, again. She tilted her head a bit and spoke with harshness.
"You know why I did it," she told her. "I had to". Orla did not wait rather she immediately started leaving.
"But why," Layna said with a tone of protest. At this point, Orla was in no mood to discuss the matter. But she turned, again.
"It is my duty as the queen to have justice done". Her voice was angry and detrimental. "What were his crimes?" Layna asked innocently, but she had a point. And Orla acknowledged it. Maybe not by words, but she knew the rest to come of this chat. "The man was asked questions, and he did not provide answers. Death was his fate, and I am the queen, I had to wield the blade". Orla's eyes seemed tired. The rash of winter must have caught her. "I hear people say you are not a queen". Layna was no fool, she knew what those people meant. But it was as if she only sought to inform her mother.
"Those people are cowards," Orla said with tears. "If they ever had the strength and courage, they will say it to my face".
The little princess had run out of words. She had nothing more to say. And her mother did not allow her to speak any further. Eventually, Layna went to her room and spent the rest of her time in failed attempts to open the window. She was too light to lift that log.
Orla watched as she walked inside her room. She started pacing to the stairs. The same ones her daughter meant to sneak for. She held her dress off the floor and began climbing down. The stairs were surrounded but giant windows that had been sealed with rough glass that accompanied the staircase as it traveled up and down. As she walked down, the great hall appeared slowly from the bottom. It was a marvel. The floors were green and red and all colors, they were shiny and reflective. And cleaner than the plates in the kitchens. The pillars went across the dark ceiling, they had been wrapped with gold and Cryl stones. Everything was Crylish. The best the island had to offer. The light passed the glass and scattered across the tiles. A shadow stood right in the middle. It was for sure a male figure.
"I can see you, m'lord," the queen called as she walked the last of the steps. "Ah, your grace, you must forgive me. I did not see you there", he said with a bow and a whispering voice. He was absolutely lying. Orla knew. They both approached each other out of the dark, the queen had her brows arching and the lord had a vicious smile. His hands disappeared in his giant sleeves behind his back. Orla too had worn the same sleeves, but her hands were not hidden.
"You have a sensitive girl, your grace". Orla gave a little twist with her mouth and stared him down. "yes" she answered in a manipulative tone. "She is". His hair was grey in color, not age. It wasn’t fully gray. Only strands. He had the looks of the Riverend well preserved.
The queen was tired and ready to throw herself on a pile of pillows. After a bit of awkward silence, the queen raised her brows and inhaled sharply in a statement. "Well, the hour calls, I must sleep". She said and before leaving she looked at him and said m'lord in a questioning way. It is common to name a person's rank before leaving. And so she did. But he did not.
"I wonder if she could grow to be a queen," Ranfry asked. Orla knew his intentions, but the bed called her. Her eyes got heavy and tired. She stopped only for a moment, but she gave up and left Ranfry in the dark. Alone with his schemes.
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