Sequel: The Game ›
Status: complete, but revisions are being made
The Pauper Princess
Chapter Three
Cries of farewell pervade the air of the city. Individual voices blend into one clamorous roar of noise. The noise of thousands of Kyshians, many who had travelled to the city for just this event, was nearly deafening, but I kept a gracious smile on my face. The entire process made me want to squirm. It wasn’t often that I had to act the part of a dutiful princess, and usually it was only in front of a few members of the court.
I can tell Alstehus is uncomfortable with the procession, too. She is unaccustomed to the ornamental saddle and other useless accessories she's been forced to wear. Being forced to ride sidesaddle, I am sure, is no more comfortable for her than for me, and along with the load of my weighty, ceremonial gown, I feel sorry for her. I reach down and pat the soft hair of her mane, trying to assure her that this cumbersome show of wealth and dignity will be over soon. All this is just a show for the people, and will be packed away once we are out of sight of the city.
Thinking of my mare’s discomfort and mine has caused my smile to slip, and one of the guards has slowed his horse to walk beside mine. At the sight of him, I quickly recover my smile and give him a slight nod. He seems to be satisfied that I’m keeping up appearances, as he lightly hits his horse with his boot to regain his position ahead of me.
I’m tempted to glare at him or do something equally childish, but I refrain. He, as well as the five other men surrounding me, has been handpicked by my father to accompany me to Lequin. They are six of the best the Kyshian Royal Guard has to offer. Five of the men, including the one who just silently scolded me, I have rarely seen before, let alone traveled with. One I recognize the oldest as the General of the Army, though, and four others I have seen occasionally. The last man, however, I have known since childhood. His father was a close friend and adviser of my own, and we often played together as children. Since his promotion to the Royal Guard, though, we rarely spend any time together, and I hope that our past will not get in the way of my plan.
I try to push aside worries of discovery and look out over the crowd. I notice the procession has nearly reached the city gates, and I try to look around discreetly for Mehta. I do my best not to react when I see her ten yards away, but these thirty feet of shouting, jubilant citizens seem to be the longest length of road I have yet traveled this morning.
When I finally draw near Mehta, she drops to the ground directly in front of my horse. Startled, Alstehus is comes to an abrupt stop and I pitch forward haphazardly. Chaos ensues as the three guards behind me- and a few members of my immediate family who have been following the procession- are forced to a halt as well. I feign surprise at the sight of my dear friend, and I immediately slip from my saddle and rush to her side.
My sudden disappearance into the multitude of people makes the guards very uneasy, and they rush through the crowd to see what’s going on. They force their way into the tight clearing around me just as I wrap Mehta in a tight embrace. A collective gasp followed by stunned silence spreads out over the people. Likely, they have no idea what to make of this: a princess showing obvious affection toward a mere servant.
“Siya,” my father’s voice booms from behind me. I don’t even have to act startled, because I can tell from that one word that he is fuming. “What is going on?” He and his personal guard force their way to my side.
“Forgive me, father, but I have befriended this servant over the years, and I do not wish to part with her.” Another gasp ripples through the crowd.
“What would you have me do, daughter?” he says in a harsh whisper, glaring down menacingly at me. “She must stay, and you must leave. Now.”
“Please, father, might she come with me?” He looks as if he wants to strike me, and his hand trembles from the effort of holding back. I close my eyes and try to hold back the real tears that are collecting behind my eyelids.
“Whose servant is this?” My father calls out abruptly. My eyes widen as my head snaps up to his face. He’s still looking at me, but if I didn’t know any better I would say he looked almost worried about me. He turns away, though, and asks again for Mehta’s master.
Murmurs rush through the crowd, and an elderly woman steps forward with the assistance of another of her servants. She is one of the oldest residents of our city, as well as a highly respected healer. Her ability is known throughout Kyshia. My father converses with her quietly, and then announces that Mehta is free to go with me. Applause rises from the gathered crowd, and Mehta and I can’t stop grinning at the success of our plan as we embrace each other again.
I can tell Alstehus is uncomfortable with the procession, too. She is unaccustomed to the ornamental saddle and other useless accessories she's been forced to wear. Being forced to ride sidesaddle, I am sure, is no more comfortable for her than for me, and along with the load of my weighty, ceremonial gown, I feel sorry for her. I reach down and pat the soft hair of her mane, trying to assure her that this cumbersome show of wealth and dignity will be over soon. All this is just a show for the people, and will be packed away once we are out of sight of the city.
Thinking of my mare’s discomfort and mine has caused my smile to slip, and one of the guards has slowed his horse to walk beside mine. At the sight of him, I quickly recover my smile and give him a slight nod. He seems to be satisfied that I’m keeping up appearances, as he lightly hits his horse with his boot to regain his position ahead of me.
I’m tempted to glare at him or do something equally childish, but I refrain. He, as well as the five other men surrounding me, has been handpicked by my father to accompany me to Lequin. They are six of the best the Kyshian Royal Guard has to offer. Five of the men, including the one who just silently scolded me, I have rarely seen before, let alone traveled with. One I recognize the oldest as the General of the Army, though, and four others I have seen occasionally. The last man, however, I have known since childhood. His father was a close friend and adviser of my own, and we often played together as children. Since his promotion to the Royal Guard, though, we rarely spend any time together, and I hope that our past will not get in the way of my plan.
I try to push aside worries of discovery and look out over the crowd. I notice the procession has nearly reached the city gates, and I try to look around discreetly for Mehta. I do my best not to react when I see her ten yards away, but these thirty feet of shouting, jubilant citizens seem to be the longest length of road I have yet traveled this morning.
When I finally draw near Mehta, she drops to the ground directly in front of my horse. Startled, Alstehus is comes to an abrupt stop and I pitch forward haphazardly. Chaos ensues as the three guards behind me- and a few members of my immediate family who have been following the procession- are forced to a halt as well. I feign surprise at the sight of my dear friend, and I immediately slip from my saddle and rush to her side.
My sudden disappearance into the multitude of people makes the guards very uneasy, and they rush through the crowd to see what’s going on. They force their way into the tight clearing around me just as I wrap Mehta in a tight embrace. A collective gasp followed by stunned silence spreads out over the people. Likely, they have no idea what to make of this: a princess showing obvious affection toward a mere servant.
“Siya,” my father’s voice booms from behind me. I don’t even have to act startled, because I can tell from that one word that he is fuming. “What is going on?” He and his personal guard force their way to my side.
“Forgive me, father, but I have befriended this servant over the years, and I do not wish to part with her.” Another gasp ripples through the crowd.
“What would you have me do, daughter?” he says in a harsh whisper, glaring down menacingly at me. “She must stay, and you must leave. Now.”
“Please, father, might she come with me?” He looks as if he wants to strike me, and his hand trembles from the effort of holding back. I close my eyes and try to hold back the real tears that are collecting behind my eyelids.
“Whose servant is this?” My father calls out abruptly. My eyes widen as my head snaps up to his face. He’s still looking at me, but if I didn’t know any better I would say he looked almost worried about me. He turns away, though, and asks again for Mehta’s master.
Murmurs rush through the crowd, and an elderly woman steps forward with the assistance of another of her servants. She is one of the oldest residents of our city, as well as a highly respected healer. Her ability is known throughout Kyshia. My father converses with her quietly, and then announces that Mehta is free to go with me. Applause rises from the gathered crowd, and Mehta and I can’t stop grinning at the success of our plan as we embrace each other again.