Queendom at Dusk

Chapter Four: Gemma

Gemma's legs are too weak to hold her properly, and the guards have to drag her through the hall. Her body still hurts and she feels exhausted. She stares at the luxurious tiled floor, because she is unable to face reality, and because she has to watch her clumsy steps. She enters a narrower corridor and double doors open before her. She is told this is her room.

She lifts her eyes and discovers a room that looks nothing like a prison cell like she imagined. Her gaze leaps to her husband, sitting on the edge of the fluffy bed and facing the window that is looking out to the garden, on which the sun is almost set. Her heart warms but then cools when the doors close behind her and he does not move. With a fading smile, she reaches out to him, almost loses her balance and tumbles onto a grey armchair. He looks so far away. She mutters his name with a shaking voice, but her faint cry for affection comes too late. She thinks it's only fair: we say for better or for worse, and she hasn't been here for the better, so why would he be here for the worse?

The burgundy carpet feels soft under her feet. She sits on the armchair – Cal is out of reach at the far end of the room. What an odd place to feel wretched, she thinks. So much gilded moulding and extra space, and yet she was happier in her family's small shack. The ceiling is spinning, but she tries to gather her thoughts. She has lost track of time; the white light imitating daylight really messes with one's mind. She finally finds a clock on the wall: five past ten. She feels like she has been here years.

Someone knocks at the door. Gemma, still dizzy, stays motionless. The doors swing open and a servant enters with a tray of food for two. She makes herself invisible and lays the tray on the table near the armchair, turns around and leaves. It is a prison, Gemma thinks. They are isolated. The servant's footprints slowly vanish from the soft burgundy carpet.

Silence goes on for a while; neither of them is hungry. Gemma cannot hold it any longer and bursts into tears. Her face, red, distorts and twists as she repeats the word "injustice" in her head. She cannot understand what is happening to her, nor does she accept it. She forgets she is not alone in the room, and her body jolts with spasms of pain, of sorrow, of loneliness. She does not control the loudness of her sobs and cries herself to sleep while Cal has already hidden himself under the thick covers. He hasn't laid eyes on her once.

In the morning, a faint knock on the door wakes Gemma up. She battles to open her eyes, and Cal is already dressed, adjusting his sleeves in front of the golden-framed mirror next to the bathroom door, and he looks smart. These are not his clothes. She struggles up while the doors open. The King is there. Gemma, upset to have slept in her clothes and to be found with dried tears on her face, gets up at once and tries to fix her auburn hair that is tangled behind her neck. The King doesn't address her directly.

"You are cordially invited to the Great Hall for breakfast, Mrs and Mr. Of the Lily," he says.

He smiles briefly and vanishes. Gemma glances towards Cal. He's brushing the dust away from his royal blue suit. The long robes compliment his tall stature. Without a word, she walks to the wardrobe that has been filled for them. She notices the food tray is gone. She catches a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror and would rather forget it right away. The black circles under her eyes dig into her brown yet faded skin and make her brown eyes appear black like two lifeless holes, and her thin features enhance the skeleton effect. Only her hair shines, always with the same red hues. She wishes she had the fiery temper that usually comes with it.

In the wardrobe, she finds a beautiful long dress of the same blue as Cal's suit. As she notices its intricate corset, she fantasizes her comfortable black top and breeches... But she's in the Capital – and she's already been stripped of so much. She can do with the smart-looking dress.

She takes the garment from the hanger and locks herself in the en-suite bathroom. She doesn't realise how time flies as she struggles to put that dress on. She spends a while questioning her existence, and she doesn't see how impatient Cal is as she finally gets out. Yet, she doesn't feel any better. They head out together in silence.

As she discovers the Great Hall, Gemma's eyes light up. She wants to despise the royal couple, but their palace keeps blowing her mind. The room is as big as Willow's Lair lake, and a huge table that can hold at least forty people takes almost all the space. Big windows look to the garden on the right side, and pictures of the former Queens are hung in golden frames on the left wall, which is painted red, the Queendom's colour. She notices the same tiled floor as the hall, but it looks even brighter as the biggest chandeliers in the world are hanging over her head, lit by a million fake flames in flickering crystals. The sunlight looks dull in comparison.

Gemma sees at last that the King and the Queen are sitting at the far end of the long table, in the only corner where crockery is set on the polished wood. Two servants are standing behind them, and two more have appeared as Gemma and Cal were observing this amazing place. The couple bow to the Queen, and the servants show them their seats – they have to walk so far to get to the other side of the table! They get a solemn nod in return, and eat silently. Gemma forces herself to have some fruit, but she feels sick right away. The awkward absence of conversation doesn't help, but there's nothing she can say to her tyrants.

The Queen finishes her meal and gets up. She tells her servants that the couple is to come to the parlour without looking at them at all. Gemma swallows. It has not even been two days and she already can't take any more of this bow-and-scrape-and-get-tortured palace life. Her stomach ties in a knot. They follow the Queen into the parlour.

This place is not like any of the other rooms in the palace. It is windowless, simpler and white all over. Humbler couches and cushions of plain grey or red fabric are placed against the side walls. Right in front of Gemma, in the back of the room, stands a huge statue of Hera holding a royal sceptre. It glows with an imperceptible light, a kind of magical aura. It reminds Gemma of the glowing tree in the garden. She's taken by a sudden energy that fills her with warmth, as if some celestial force was taking hold of her. She bows in front of the statue. Cal, the King and the Queen do so too.

They gather in front of the statue and stand there. The King and Queen exchange quick looks. The King clears his throat, and says:

"In the name of my wife the Queen, we want to formally apologize for the harsh treatment Gemma has undergone at the Palace yesterday. We had to make sure the Queendom was not threatened. But indeed, this is a blessing above all. Gemma, we are delighted to welcome you for the duration of your pregnancy. You're bearing a precious present. Glory to Hera!"

"Glory to Hera!", the Queen echoes. Gemma cannot believe her ears and notices the Queen is avoiding her gaze, looking right in front of her at some fixed point on the wall. Gemma and Cal repeat the words and they sound empty. The whole scene seems fake. Gemma feels like she's in a dream, that she's having some weird fantasy. The four of them stand there awkwardly. Gemma's still trying to read the Queen. Her word is absolute, and Gemma should be relieved, but really she wants to go back to being a child. The Queen speaks at last:

"The announcement ceremony will be held in Willow's Lair tomorrow. I have already given word to the Matriarch."

Cal turns to his wife. She is appalled by this news and tries hard to hide it. This means she is going to stand alone before five hundred people who will bow to her and praise her. She won't be accompanied by nine other pregnant girls as she is supposed to – they will be in the crowd, kneeling to the one that got away with their prize. She will not be welcome in her own village, and for good reason.

The Greatest Queen tilts her head, expecting an answer. Gemma has already ruined a Summer Rite because of her feelings; she has to keep composed, especially if it involves an order from the Queen. She blinks once and says, "Wonderful."