Palace Walls

Part Twenty-Four

From this day forward, our short, one-eyed counterparts are free to be themselves. We are not their sun, nor their moon. They live under the same stars we wish upon.

We are always growing, always evolving...after all, a century ago, our closeness with the Amathzuli would have been seen as disgusting. But nowadays, they are irreplaceable allies with a rich and curious culture. Imagine how dull and cheerless we would be without them.

I sang at the Cyclops Alliance Feast as a girl. While I didn't know what I was singing for, I recall feeling my heart thunder, the warm blood pool into my face-- burning as if I were set on fire. I used to think these funny-looking people who lived in caves were interesting, but only as maids. As people to clean after me, as if my dust was better than theirs.

From the Cyclops to the Amathzuli, what do we have against the cave-born? Why are they "savage"? Why did I ever laugh at plays making fun of them? A difference in appearance, culture, and religion? If this is difficult to imagine, think of me and Chief Cyanu, about our debate with the calendars of sun and moon, among other observations. While I would not be caught dead in tattoos, I will defend his right to live with them.

We have given ourselves too much warmth, too much light, and they've had to shiver under our shadows.

Let me speak simply: the Cyclopes are free to live their own lives among us. They are no longer required to serve the Neo-Jotun, or any other, race.

I only regret not acting sooner.

Your faithful Queen,

Clotilda Prasnigenita Hua

—from the "Cyclops Freedom Act", archived by Penelope Oltu

The next morning, Grippina tottered into the inn's breakfast room and sat across from Lord Cleone. Even in the gaudy, gold-and-turquoise room, she retained her lance-straight posture and stony gaze. She wore a long black gown with a small matching beret. A red rose was twisted into her light-blonde hair, with a white opaque veil clinging over her face like fog. It was as if, he thought, She was trying to hide her emotions.

"I'm sorry to arrive on such short notice," Even through the veil, he saw her make an odd squinty grimace that resembled a smile. "But Her Majesty wants to see you and the Little Folk again."

"The Little Folk is Miss Kwak," he said firmly, "Why does she want to see her again? She was insulted by what she said about...Cyclopes."

Grippina folded her hands, onyx-and-silver rings clinking together like wind-chimes.

"If anything, us ladies-in-waiting more of slaves than they are. Having your destiny assigned at such a young age, your feet deformed so you can't move far from...what...a lady adopted into a Royal Family? If it wasn't for the King and Queen, she'd be Cecilia Kingfisher!"

Cleone froze. Grippina was probably the Queen's most loyal and submissive lady. If these were her real feelings, she buried them deep beneath that cool-eyed surface.

"I'm not allowed to fall in love, either."

"Oh." Cleone blushed. Had he ever been in love? "I'm sorry to hear that, my lady."

Grippina nodded lightly.

"I apologize for the tangent. After a nap and some shooting lessons, Her Majesty decided she's impressed by Miss Kwak."