Of Winds And Quakes

34. The Towelettes

Year of the Roses
Floral Season
The Bathroom, the Palace
Altsas

Alysia

I DIDN'T BREAK HIS NOSE. I didn't break Rakar's nose I muse as I run the washcloth over my arms, I want to scrub away the traces of Rakar on me.

I asked Lysia to wait for me while I take a quick bath and see climbed onto the four-poster bed and has been silent since. Maybe she's sleeping.

I asked her about Rakar; why she seems to hate him so much, why he acts like a rabbit on heat. I didn't ask the latter though, I do not want anyone to know what transpired between us in the orchard.

I'm done bathing and I stretch to reach the towel when I notice something in the water.

Blood. A small spiral of it dancing in the water.

Hastily I wrap the towel around me and waddle to the bedroom, Lysia lies on my bed snoring softly. I hate to disturb her nap.

"Lysia?" I call out loud enough to wake her from sleep. She turns the other way and mutters something indecipherable. I bite back a giggle. "Lysia!"

She jolts upright and gives me a glare hot enough to melt ice.

"I'm sorry but it's my monthly visitor," I say sheepishly. Her features soften up immediately and she dashes out of the room without a word.

Sighing, I unwrap the towel and begin to rub in some lavender oil. Lysia returns almost immediately with towelettes in various colours. She hands them to me wordlessly and I collect feeling eternally grateful.

Before using one, I examine it. Sniffing it and rub it on my cheek.

Lysia chuckles quietly," what did you use back at Kintil?"

"Rags," I reply.

I don't feel shy that she stands and watches me dress up. She even helps me pick out what to wear. After wearing the towelette in my knickers, I stand next to the closet watching her browse through the few dresses I had been given with a scowl.

"Wait here," she says to me before leaving the room. She returns with a navy blue ensemble; an embroidered silk kaftan and loose trousers to match.

"I've never seen any female in this house wear trousers," I say feeling the silk in between my fingers.

"Lack of taste if you ask me," she says. "I have tons of these but Rosa won't let me wear them. I would mind giving you all of them."

"You aren't serious." I struggle to keep a deadpan expression.

"I am," she replies simply. "Try it on."

I pull the kaftan over my head and the trousers up my legs. Turning to face the mirror, I see that the kaftan is a perfect fit, the trousers are a bit loose but I don't mind.

"Thank you," I say. And Lysia pulls me into a hug and I hug her back.

"Tell me," I say as I slip my feet into leather flip-flops. "Why did you leave me in the orchard?" My tone is almost accusing.

"It's nothing, Alysia." She spins and starts to leave the room. "Don't bother your head over nothing".

"Tell me about your mother," Lysia says as we leave the bedroom.

"You want to know about my mother?" I don't see why she would want to hear about my mother.

"I'm just curious," she says simply. She walks with a graceful gait while running her fingers along the stony wall.

"Well," I think hard, "she's like most mothers. You know, caring and sweet." Alysia nods encouraging me to go on, "she is the silent type, she talks sparingly and she is very hard-working. She cooked for the us, tended to my wounds and consoled me whenever I felt sad..." We descend the swirling staircase in silence. "What about your mother?"

Lysia shrugs, "I've never really known her. I asked to know what your mother is like because I thought that the kind and sweet mothers were only in fairytales."

"You mean your mother isn't kind and sweet?" I find this hard to believe.

"I have never spent as much as an hour with her except during meals, Alysia. Rosa is the only mother I've ever known."She says this as a matter-of-factly and I can't help but feel bad for her.

"I think my mother has a reason for not treating me... Right," she runs her tongue along her lip. "Kyan has always been the apple of her eyes."

"What do you think?" I cannot think up a reason why a mother would not want to be close with her child.

"She's ashamed of me, Alysia. She is ashamed that she birthed an albino." There is no emotion in her voice as she says this. Her jaw is hard and set, her eyes are blank.

I pause on a step. "That's not true, Lysia." I grab her hand and squeeze it, "a mother can never be ashamed of her child."

She shakes her head slowly."My father spent his free time with me for most of my childhood. He used to carry me on his lap when he sits on his throne. He happily showed me off to his Sires and subjects but with my mother..." Her voice trails off and I see tears walling up her eyes. I wipe them off with the pads of my thumbs.

"You should talk to her," I whisper.

"I can't. I haven't for the seventeen years of my life and I'm not going to now." Her voice is heavy laden with grief.

"You have to." But she just walks past me and continues down the stairs. I follow her until we get to the entrance of the throne room. Peeping inside, I catch a quick glimpse of the King.

"Lysia?" I don't understand why she's standing in front of the throne room.

"Go away, Alysia. I want to talk to my father," she throws over her shoulder without a look at me.

Feeling a little hurt, I turn on my heels and bump into someone.

"Alysia," Rakar smirks,"so apart from being a coquette, you also peep at the King?"

"Bastard," I curse with obvious disdain. My nails dig into my palms and I struggle to contain the urge to punch his nose again. With luck, I might break his nose this time.

He rolls his eyes with exaggerated boredom. "Spare me the act, Alysia. Deep down, I know you don't think I'm a bastard. Anyway, I've come to deliver a message."

"Go away," I hiss through clenched teeth.

"It's Kyan. He's going to honour his father's request and spend the day with you. Follow me." And he spins and his heels and begins to march away giving me no chance to protest.

I sigh and I follow him.