Maji Born

09 - Zehara Xeara Belestine

A crisp breeze drifted in through the open window, accompanied by a few loose flakes of snow. Zehara watched them land on the end of her bathtub, enjoying the steam that rose from them as they evaporated. She sunk lower into the hot water letting her chin kiss the surface. 

There was a bang as the door flew open behind her, the maid was back. She bustled in with a crisp linen pantsuit and a soft dressing coat in her arms. When she saw the open window she immediately scrambled to close it."Leave it. I like it open." 

 Zehara said, her cool, grey eyes, following the frazzled maid, who stopped trying to latch the window."But milady, you'll catch your death."

"I won't. I'm warm enough, and it is beautiful out there today," she said, smiling calmly at the maid."As you wish milady," the maid said, her fingers abandoning the polished silver handle. She turned and began laying the garments in her arms on a long carved bench.

"Is there any news from Midais?" Zehara asked, bracing her arms on the sides of the tub in order to rise. Water sploshed out around the edge of the tub and the maid hastily offered Zehara a soft white towel.

"Not as of yet. There are rumours in the streets though. The new King is not like his father from what I've heard," the woman said. 

 Zehara patted herself down and returned it to the maid.

"We suspected as much," she said, going to the window and glancing down at the crowded street below.

"Miss it isn't proper."

Zehara shot the maid a look of contempt, brow furrowed and eyes piercing.

"Please. We are five stories up. And no one is looking." 

Never-the-less Zehara stepped back and let the maid pass her the thin undergarments she wore. Lace shorts and a delicate matching camisole. Then she layered it with the decadent pantsuit, admiring the intricate navy and maroon dip dyed pattern and the embroidered lace ruffled sleeves. Last came the coat, which had a soft neckline, it was black and well-shaped, the collar folding in ruffles like an extravagant flower resting upon her shoulders.

"Is the Duke awake?" She asked, gathering her change purse and leather accounting journal from the bench and slipping them into the pockets of the coat.

"He's eating in the parlour," the maid replied.

"Thank you."

Zehara made her way out of the room and into the stairwell. She ran her fingers along the slender silver rail for balance as she headed down the curved marble steps. 

The Duke's home was expansive. Five floors with access to most of the city. The building was located in the center of the capital, near the university. Her sponsor and protector, Duke Avis Elington was a well-liked and wealthy professor at the university. He taught history, botany, and astronomy, and had made certain that in turn Zehara would be well informed on each subject. 

Zehara was in attendance at the university under his sponsorship, improving her skills in majik, as well as to round out her education in law, mathematics, etiquette, and history. She did not remember a time before the Duke, she had lived under Elington's care and tutelage since youth smuggled out of Midais as a baby and into his arms during the turnover. He had recounted it many times. The plan had always been for her to return to her families position ruling Midais when she was old enough.

Elington had only told her of her lineage on her tenth birthday. He had been grooming her for years, educating her on the history of both countries, training her majik, and paying for all the best tutors. It had taken a while for her to process what he was saying, but once Zehara had accepted that she was the Belestine heir she had taken it upon herself to proceed forward with all she had.