The King's Children

Appetiser

Two months ago

"You are sure this will help me conceive?"

I was curious and apprehensive. I was brought up a practical woman, in a family that promoted logic and factual evidence within the court as opposed to blind faith and belief. My father was the Minister of Science after all.

But this is what the court had reduced me to. I had to try everything I possibly could. Not trying meant giving up on the requirements of my position. It meant to lose and I was only ever a winner.

We are sat in the Queen's inner court prayer room. I am at the front before the steps leading to the deity's shrine. The shaman sits beside me, and Yl-Ra sits behind me, hands in the pockets of her blouse, perfectly poised in a way even I couldn't ever be.

Ritually marked, wrinkled hands caress my face.

"My dear Queen, conception is not the issue. You are fertile, you will birth." She was brave, to be touching my face. I try to focus on her words and what she is going to help me achieve than the sensation of a common woman's possibly unwashed skin against mine. "We pray to the Gods today to sway the King's heart."

"My Queen, I plead with you to rethink this. Such rituals are not permitted." Yl-Ra interjects. She always looks out for me. I chose her for my husband as the concubine of the first rank and she carries that loyalty over winning the affection of the King or advancing her own position.

She is happiest by my side, serving me. I gave her title and purpose and I know she will never forget and forever be grateful. As a Queen, such followers were blessings that I needed to keep in mind to not take for granted.

"It is not a ritual, my child. Just a prayer. A pleading to those above us to help change the fates of destiny to pardon this sweet child from a solitary future. A Queen is no Queen without children." As I said, the old woman was brave.

I suppose aging and having lived and breathed as a shaman, you lose fear and embrace speaking your mind. I'll never know, I was raised a noblewoman, a lady, and now I was Queen. I'd do anything to protect my title.

"My Queen, please. If we are found, there will be consequences." Yl-Ra pleads, her soft voice trying to sway me.

"Consequences more important than birthing a child? You are at risk, my Queen. In the inner court, you sit on your throne but your position is coveted, and one of them has just become successful in getting closer than ever." The old woman knows more than I thought. Word must travel swiftly past palace walls.

"She is only a common woman who was swayed enough for a night with a soldier who turned out to be King. The child she carries is illegitimate, it was conceived before she ever stepped foot onto palace grounds. She holds no title." Yl-Ra tries to reason, but her voice floats further away.

'Titles are delicate things, my sweet. They are bestowed and stripped faster than the blink of an eyelash. Hold onto yours.' Mother's voice is a soft but firm whisper that cements my decision.

"Proceed with it. And make it fast. I suppose the Gods can still favour a swift prayer if I am true in heart." I tell the old woman. Yl-Ra speaks no more, merely bows her head in submission behind me. I take my Queen pin out of my hair and hold it tight on my lap as required.

Except for Gods or not, prayers or not, any calling to a higher being almost always extracted a price.

I learned that the hard way.

"Say your name, my Queen."

Candles are lit, offerings are laid out, the eyes of the deities placed around the prayer room seem to be on me, shamanic writing on long, coloured papers are hung from the shrine, the primary idol is sat on the pedestal, eyes looking to my soul.