King Thoren sat perched on top of a velvet cushion on his golden, ruby and sapphire incrusted throne. He held a glass of expensive and illegal Isdolian red wine in one hand, drumming his fingers against the padded armrest with the other. Deep, grey and blue bags had formed under his dull, narrow, brown eyes and his lips were so chapped that they might've been baked in the oven.
A servant waddled into the chamber. He bowed below the grand chair, one knee on the ground, with a polished silver tray in one hand and a silk napkin in the other. On the tray was an assortment of lavish cheeses, jams, fruits and pieces of bread arranged in an elegant display.
Thoren delicately plucked the napkin from the servant's hand, positioned facing upward towards the ceiling, before tucking it into the neckline of his tunic. Using his lengthy, skeletal, fingers, he collected a grape, popping it between his thin lips. He'd then take a cube of cheese and place it on his tongue. He continued to eat like this, periodically groaning in pleasure, for what must have been a good half hour.
When he was finally done with his midday snack, he slid the napkin across his face, before placing it back into the wobbling palm of his servant. The man let out a sigh of relief before dropping his numb hand to the side.
"Next time, Clancy, do not let your hand wobble so," he purred.
The servant mumbled, "But sir I..."
"What's that? I can't hear you! Try again," Thoren stated, a catlike smirk on his face.
"Sir I cannot possibly control the shaking in my... in my...my hand."
"Do not stutter either or I will have you branded with the mark of a thief for stealing my time," he ordered, sipping his wine, "Please explain the issue clearly this time... Well what is it?"
"There is no problem your majesty," muttered the terrified servant.
"Are you sure?" Thoren questioned sinisterly.
"Positive! I'm positive!"
"Fantastic!"
The servant stood facing the king. He stared at him with timid eyes, awaiting orders with the now empty tray tucked in towards his racing chest. The king raised his strangely thin eyebrow.
"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? LEAVE!" he boomed.
The servant dropped the silver tray in fright. It clanged on the hard marble floor, clatter echoing on the walls. He then leaned over, his hands trembling even harder now. Once back on his feet, the silver tray tucked even tighter to his front, he bowed a final time.
"Yes, your majesty!" he said breathlessly, before scampering out of the throne room like a puppy with its tail between its legs. The large wooden doors slammed behind him.
Axel, the king's royal adviser, slithered into the chamber.
"How do you do your majesty?" the man asked, almost as slimy as the king himself.
"As well as any man would in my situation, Axel. Has there been any progression?" Thoren questioned, already knowing the answer.
"The trail is as cold as the winter night that we lost her on."
"What about that guard? You must have found something by now. Maybe that wretched maid? Anything?"
"I have found nothing sir. I think it is best to assume that they are dead by now."
"IT WOULD HAVE BEEN BEST IF THAT BRAT COULD'VE DIED THE NIGHT SHE WAS SUPPOSED TO! WAS IT THAT HARD TO MURDER A SIX-YEAR-OLD GIRL! YOU CAN KILL THE KING AND QUEEN OF SURENCI, BUT YOU CANNOT HANDLE ONE MEASLEY GUARD AND A MAID? It has been ten long years and you have found nothing. SHE TURNS SIXTEEN TOMORROW! SIXTEEN! That means that she is old enough to take my crown. If you let that happen, I will make sure that you die a death more painful than you can imagine," bellowed the king.
"I will try my best your majesty."
"Your BEST is clearly not good enough. FIX IT!"
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Lia sat on her warm wooden cot. She held a brush in one hand and a handful of her thick red hair in another. She swayed back and forth, listening to the whistling of the wind and the rustling of the colorful leaves. She hummed a simple tune quietly to herself.
It was finally fall, her favorite season. She had always enjoyed the chilly winds, all bundled in her russet healer's cloth, and she absolutely adored the smell of all the fires burning throughout the city. The smell of smoke and firewood calmed her.
When it was fall, she felt closest to the distant memories of her forgotten past. It had been a decade since that terrible night. The one where she had stolen that stupid loaf of bread. She would give anything to get those years back.
She couldn't even remember her own father's face.
When she was little, she prayed that someday an angel would come down and bring her father, or at least the memories of him back, but sadly it never came. Day after day, month after month, year after year went by, but the hole inside of her heart never filled. She added things around it, her heart grew, but the hole never sealed. There would always be a blank space in the back of her mind where those years should have gone.
Now don't misunderstand, Lia loved her life. Her mother Liya was an amazing influence and her little sister, Terice, kept her hands full. In the daytime, she trained with Genoa to become a full-fledged healer, and at night she liked to sit by the creek and listen to the flowing water. Her life was full of simple pleasures, but also many hours of hard work.
It was a good life, especially for the events that had unfolded around them. The kingdom had been overthrown around the same time that she had lost her memories and the king and queen had been murdered. This had caused the Isdolians to go to war against the kingdom for killing Reinette, an important daughter in the Isdolian house of royalty.
King Thoren, lacking many volunteers and supporters, created a draft, ripping many families apart. This affected many small farming villages, creating a kingdom wide shortage of food.
At the same time, the king had declared that being marked as a thief also meant immediate hanging, saying that he wanted to clear his kingdom of all filth. That caused a hideous uproar, but the king didn't care. He was too busy searching for his missing niece.
Everyone in the kingdom, including Lia, prayed for her reemergence, to take back what was rightfully her throne. The king however, had his own plans in mind. He had a daughter of his own, Elicia, whom he wished to place upon the throne at his death.
To find her, he ordered that all red headed girls born between the years of 499 and 509 be taken to the jailhouse for examination. At first, they came back home, but as time went on, the same girls were caught repeatedly. Eventually, they just disappeared, never to be seen again. Thankfully, Lia always wore a head scarf, and the healers originally came from the kind, olive skinned, people of Taran, so her hair color was never questioned or examined by a guard. The thought of being captured, chilled her to the core.
Lia shook the thoughts of the current state of her country out of her head. Tomorrow was a special day for her. It was her sixteenth birthday!
Hi guys! Thank You So Much for reading my story. It means so much to me! I really hope that you liked this chapter!! Please remember to show the love by voting and commenting. I hope that everyone has a fantastic day!!
-XOXO Meaghan
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Bandit Queen
خيال (فانتازيا)In Surenci your looks could cause your death. A missing heir and an usurping tyrant have turned this once prosperous and generous nation into a treacherous cesspit filled to the brim with death and fear. ...
