Blades Among The Jewels

Chapter One

The wind whipped through my curtains sending them flowing across the room startling me, before once more laying straight against the window frame. Though I was already awake, I just couldn’t find it in me to wake enough to actually have the desire to face the day. Not that I’d have the option to lie here much longer. The servants would be in soon. Mother and Father sending them to get me up and ready, polished in appearances for today's extravagant list of social events, all of which I had to make an appearance to as daughter of the King and Queen of Salamarus. I sigh in slight frustration, seeing the rest of my life lying before me, just like this. Social gatherings, making an appearance so society will accept us and bow to us. Laughing and flirting innocently with possible suitors so I can continue the line of succession. I feel anger give way to sadness, a melancholy ache as I realize, this truly isn't what I want. Yet it’s my only choice. Option really. I have no choices. I check the position of the sun in the sky. It’s past sunrise. I rise, wondering why my ladies haven’t come to run my bath and lay out my clothes for the day. I check to make sure they didn’t before just letting me sleep longer. They really are nice women. Sensitive to what I really need, unlike Mother and Father. I don’t fully trust them enough for them to know my secret though. I don’t trust anyone fully. Not even my family. It might sound sad to other people that you can’t even entrust secrets from your life to your own family, but it’s something I’ve been used to doing for a long time now, so it’s nothing new. I hear the wind whistle through the pines outside my window, and inhale the fresh scent of nature and the sap from the trunks. Nature’s candle! It’s always brought a sense of calm to me as I take the time in my day to breathe it in. I make my way to the bathroom, expecting the bath to be drawn and my clothes lain out. To my surprise, the bathtub is dry, and with it, no clean clothes are by its side on the footstool. Looking back, my immediate thought should have been concen, but I was too self-consumed for such thoughts. So I felt a sense of frustration and inconvenience instead. Sighing I debate just gathering my own clothes and running my own bath, but that’s not how I like doing things. We pay the servants to do their tasks, therefore that’s what they need to do. I decide to try to ring the bell that architects so brilliantly incorporated into the castle walls. You ring it from your room, but it can be heard throughout different rooms in the castle. Such as the servants' living quarters, the washroom, or the kitchen, Genius really, but I can’t help but think to myself again that I shouldn’t have to do such tasks. I stride across the room to ring the bell, then head back to my desk awaiting a response or someone to come to my chambers. I sit at my desk and run my brush through my long auburn hair. Red tinted highlights weave throughout the thick mess of it all. I used to envy the lady’s with golden flax hair in the villages and the fair maidens. The fair light flawless skin, and golden blonde hair that so effortlessly flowed and fell like a garland around their heads. Adorning them with halos of flowers weaving in and out. I never felt that pretty. I gaze into the mirror looking at my unruly curls and odd tones of color. Multiple instead of just one. Seems like my dna couldn’t make up its mind, just like I couldn’t for the most part I guess. I try to do my hair in a way that suits my face. Making the curls look pretty and neat, instead of this unruly bundle. I sigh, once more thinking how much easier this would be with the maids doing it for me. I eventually give up and rise. Putting on a fleece robe, lined with the softest and nicest of materials. Imported from some fancy island is what I hear from the vendors. It’s always hard to tell though if the vendors and tradesmen are being honest. A majority of the time the goods are overpriced and not durable or lasting to wear for any good amount of time. Typically a waste of money. But I never really worried about budgeting or managing my money. Well, not that it was mine in the sense that I ever had to work for it. I basically just inherit it from my mother and father. I guess though, if I’m being specific I mainly just get it from my dad, as does my mom with her share. Womens money is from men who are high in rank and give them a share. Honestly that’s something that's always really bothered me. Why is it that the women of the towns and cities are pushed to marry rich, or men high in station in order to be accepted into society or high ranks of leadership? I start to feel my agitation grow as I rise and head towards the door of my chamber. I pull my robe on tighter as it starts to slip from my shoulder. The last thing I want is people thinking I’m going for a special appointment in another chamber. I creep out quietly into the hall glancing for the guards outside my door who are typically posted at least one at a time day and night around the sun. Neither are there, and the halls are deadly and eerily quiet. I start to feel a cold shiver creep up my spine. Something’s wrong. I should have known. My chambers are located nearing the top of the castle. Almost positioned in one of the towers. Except not at all like the ones of prisoners. Obviously. I silently cross the hall and approach the top of the stairs. I’m greeted with an eerie silence. Not a sound. No noise coming from the kitchen, or from the windows with the sounds of children's laughter in the courtyards echoing throughout. The shiver runs down my spine once more, as well as a gut feeling prompting me to not continue. I ignore it and continue down the stairs. The marble staircases and skillfully crafted banisters typically adorned with flowers weaving in and out of the posts look disheveled and some of the flowers have fallen to the ground. White and red roses. Ancestors say white is for our people’s purity, and red for the blood flowing through the hearts and veins of our people. Strong, and courageous, yet fair and loving. I approach the bottom of the giant spiraling marble staircase and glance down to make sure I don’t slip. My head darts back up, ears finely attuned to noise as I hear a piercing scream. All my senses feel as though they’ve been heightened. My head darts to and fro trying to figure out where the screams are coming from. I slip on something and land in the flowers just beneath the last step. I place my hand down to try to catch myself and gasp as I feel a wet liquid on my hand. I look down to see my hand coated with blood. I must not have seen it as it was mixed with the red roses already scattered across the floor. I snatch my hand back from the ground and try to quickly jump to my feet. When I rise I look back to the ground and try to follow the trail of blood. I only have to go a short ways before I find the victim. I recognize the man barely as he’s been so disformed. One of my guards. I feel my throat catch as I try to not sob and vomit at the same time. He has horrible stab wounds covering his chest. Likely many of the stab wounds went through his arteries nearly killing him instantly. I step back shaking, unable to look away. I creep slowly back, slipping again forgetting about the blood with the shock of my newest found discovery. I fall backwards to the ground. Scrambling backwards. I feel myself hit an object and assume it’s a table in the main hall. But before I can turn around to check I feel a hand clamp over my mouth. I try to turn and see who it is in the midst of my attempts to scream and cry out for help. I squirm and jerk to try to get out of my attacker's grasp. I feel a hand around my neck and things go dim as my vision begins to blur. The last thing I think to myself before the sights around me turn black is that this person is skilled, and they aren’t playing any games.