(still 1948, several years earlier)
A week had flown by, with more whippings, and with more whippings, came more hard, stinging slashes through the delicate skin of Domna's back. His sleep dwindled with his appetite, yet he enjoyed the prestige of standing in front of the Queen as she walked through the city or received noble guests at her throne. She would wade majestically through the crowd, causing them to separate and stare, as a standard-bearer carried the Royal red-and-black banner and a blue-uniformed Guard marched and chanted: "Hup, hup, hail to the Queen's Guard!"
The Queen was still firm, yet her smiles were gentler. Her dark-haired young puplets were adorable, squealing and running through the Great Halls. Grippina always brewed him sweet cups of brashberry tea. Even Prince Cuckoo had been a pleasant surprise-- sneaking him candies as thanks for his work. But Domna's greatest surprise had been Historian Oltu. She was at that age where you're supposed to know everything. The age everyone assumes your brain is pulsing with primroses and pixie dust. The age of growing shadows and fading light. Yet she ran over to him with the speed of a small girl.
"Guard Domna!" she cried, clapping her hands, "I'm bathing again!"
"Ahh, that's nice, Grand Historian."
"No Auntie's gonna scald me this time, no sir! But I wanna thank you, dearie. 'Twas your courage that made me do it."
"Why, I...that's wonderful! I don't know what to say!"
The Historian chuckled, scribbling away.
"Thought you wouldn't! I'll record this moment for the grandpups to see!"
Domna froze as the old woman scuttled away. Flattery will blur my vision. I know the Queen-- I've got to keep improving!
Speaking of the Queen, she had a meeting today. A historic one, he understood, between herself and the Chief of the Amathzuli Giants. Domna's heart pounded. My Goddess, she can't be serious! The Amathzuli were who Philpott and I....He swallowed. Never mind!
"What's wrong, meat?" Gorello barked, "Scared of a big, dumb caveman?" He mocked the Amathzuli chants: "Ohh-ahh! Ohh-ahh!"
Domna shook his head and rushed to perform his duty.
A large, chanting crowd gathered in front of the Palace, as the stone elephant fountains hissed cold white waters and quartz trumpets roared. A Royal crimson, diamond-shaped carriage pulled up, drawn by furry snoutens. The golden door swung open. A muscular man emerged, wearing brown furs and a high feathered hat. His dark, straight-boned face was smeared in pale paint, as black tattoos criss-crossed his limbs. Some maids squealed and swooned. The Royal couple emerged, with the Prince Consort wearing his white-feathered hat and dark-blue clothing. The Queen looked even more extravagant, with her jeweled crimson gown and black hair braided into a crown shape. The Chief walked toward her. She watched him kneel at her feet, according to tradition, and she brushed his head with her fingers. As they glided in, Domna followed her closely. Please don't take too long with this...Chief!
"You remember my husband, Eryx Salmon," she introduced, lifting a hand.
"H-H-Hello, Your Greatness," the Prince said, bowing, "You are alive with the essence of unripened...snowflakes!"
The Chief smiled, revealing a row of berry-blackened teeth. His cave accent was clear and crisp:
"Hello, Your Excellence. You look well."
YOU ARE READING
Palace Walls
FantasyThis fantasy story tells the rise and fall of Queen Clotilda, and the many friends and enemies she makes along her reign. Despite her popularity, she has a blind spot when it comes to important issues, leaving her with more problems than she bargain...
