Dissonance

the twelfth chord - "poise"

Alaeca opened her eyes. She saw herself in the mirror, and the plump woman behind her whose fingers were still entwined in her hair. Meol was the hairstylist that Ronov had arranged for the queen, and after seeing her rapid but feathery hands work confidently, Alaeca had taken a few moments of well-needed rest.

The doors of her chambers were wide open. Strewn across the carpet were long stretches of fabric and discarded bead necklaces. The cream-coloured dress she wore was light on her body- unlike those of Fyndanian tradition. Long sleeves widened down her arms, and the scoop neck left her throat open to air. While not tight fitting, the bodice was, like the sleeves, rich with dark pink and green embroidery. A plain skirt fell down to her ankles.

Yuna waddled into the rooms carrying a long white tray and shut the doors behind her. Meol continued to weave her magic without a glance in the maid's direction. Alaeca watched Yuna in the mirror. "What are those?"

"Fruit cakes, my lady. I thought you would be hungry," Yuna said. Alaeca's stomach turned over at the mere thought of eating. She hadn't seen Ronov all day, and her nerves were as vulnerable to breaking as the twigs under the feet of the guests accumulating in front of the Xindinan palace. Alaeca forced a smile. "I'm sorry, Yuna. I'm not hungry at all." Alaeca's words emerged from a mouth that tasted like sand. She stared into the mirror, and the Xindinan queen stared back.

Setting the tray on the bed, Yuna descended onto her knees near Alaeca's chair. Alaeca dropped her hand over the chair's arm, fingers heavy with wooden rings. Yuna held on to it, easing the mounting frost around her heart.

"Will this be alright?"

Meol took a step backwards, one corner of her mouth raised. Hair strung with wooden beads fell in front of her ears and past her chest. The rest of it was clenched into several thick braids twisted into a neat bun. A ribbon bearing the same pattern as her dress was looped around the bun. Alaeca shook her head gently to make sure nothing was loose.

Alaeca faced a proud Meol. "It's beautiful. Thank you."

Meol shrugged. "I'll tell them you're ready and be on my way." And she shut the door behind her. When Alaeca looked, Yuna's hands were clenched and gaze downcast. A light chuckle escaped her lips - which at first, surprised her. "I'm not bothered by it, Yuna. Don't worry."

The heaviness on Yuna's countenance remained. Alaeca put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm more bothered by the fact that I can't have you beside me the whole time."

Yuna looked up at her. "I-It's impossible for me to attend a celebration as grand as that..." she trailed off, and hesitantly added, "But you'll have His Majesty beside you the whole time."

Before Alaeca had a chance to reply, the door swung open with the force of a tornado. And the tornado of Xindin himself entered, visibly shaking with excitement. "Alaeca, my dear! You look like a queen!"

Alaeca laughed. "You trimmed Randt?"

Ronov squeezed the tip of his moustache, Randt, between his thumb and index finger, nodding. "It's a special day, after all." He tapped her shoulder with a roll of paper. "Clear your head, Alaeca!"

"It's clear!" she straightened her back. The old man's excitement abated, leaving behind a serene gaze. Alaeca looked away. "It'll be okay, won't it?"

"My dear," two warm hands cradled her face. "You will be okay."

She blinked. Again and again. "But Arventh is probably mad at me... for avoiding him all this time." She forced her trembling eyelids shut, and the tremors rocked her shoulders instead. Ronov brushed her cheeks with his thumbs. "No, my dear. He's not angry. Even if he was, one word from you would fix everything."