Thirst or pain, Thalia could not tell. Then, she decided it was pain.
Such crawling, biting thirst, its tongues of flame licking the insides of her gullet, pervading the top of her mouth, her gums- it could be called 'thirst' no longer.
Her mouth and throat were the cracked grounds under the desert sun, refusing to be quenched by water or tea.
When Dehan finally returned with a frantic gesture at a small glass bottle of transparent liquid, Thalia was downing it before Matia could stop her.
There was almost no taste, or texture, although the liquid was thicker and warmer than water at room temperature was.
As soon as it had glided down her throat and hit her belly, as if mocking her, the thirst dissipated.
"It is His Majesty who gave you the glass?" Matia asked Dehan slowly.
His brows furrowed, Dehan only did a shrug of his giant shoulders. His two hands outstretched, he made gestures as if he was riding on a horse.
Matia glanced at Thalia and the empty glass, biting her lips. "Your Majesty. We have Shahark interpreters- but not interpreters of the Shahark sign language. My humble opinion would be for you to take more caution when interacting with this man."
Scratching the nape of his neck, Dehan clumsily bowed, and dismissed himself from the chambers.
Absent-mindedly, Thalia nodded. Of course, Lucien would've chosen Dehan as his bodyguard. Communication between Dehan and the rest of the Aesna court would be close to non-existent.
"Matia. You summoned Dehan to tell His Majesty about my condition. Not a physician." Thalia put the emptied glass on the table. "Was it his order? To not let physicians into my chambers?"
Without the slightest hint of remorse, Matia curtsied. "Yes, Your Majesty."
"All right, then." Thalia heard the crispness of her own voice. "Let us get on with the rest of the day."
The history books of Aesna were crimson, leather-bound and heavy enough to kill a man. So many pages, yet all of them were made from the finest, thickest paper she'd ever seen.
They smelled faintly of dust and wood, as she flipped the books, barely stifling a yawn.
'History of The Kingdom of Aesna' was a rather misleading title. 'History of the Important Men of the Royal Court of Aesna' would be more befitting.
Not a line talked of the swollen bellies of malnourished children, limbs of peasants who were blown to pieces during the uprising war between Erhun and Decan- or the officials' private soldiers who took women to their liking and rice sacks of commoners, all on the pretext of royal orders.
After pages of the lineage of Aesna royalty were read, Matia presented Thalia with scrolls of petitions to categorize.
"They have already been organized and filtered through by the officials, Your Majesty.
"Your task would be to familiarize yourself with the content, and if there are problems you wish to address yourself, to request His Majesty's approval for them."
Request to raise taxes, so that capable physicians can be hired to treat the people still suffering from the after-math of the war.
Request to raise taxes, so that funds can be used to attract more talents to fill the positions of officials who have passed away.
Request to raise taxes, so that manpower can be deployed to build the numerous damaged infrastructure in the villages.
It was as if all twelve scrolls had been written by the same person.
YOU ARE READING
The Tyrant's Queen
Romansa"I am bored, my Queen. So, entertain me." ~ * ~ Young Prince Lucien of Aesna is more suited for the countryside than the royal palace of fatal mind games and seasonal assassinations. Despite being shunned for being born to a palace maid, Lucien p...
