unraveled

fili mi

✵       ✵      ✵

          "Gratis fili mi," she continued, splaying her hands in front of her.

          Caraca had a considerable size to it, yet all its people spoke mainly one dialect. Iozun. But of course, there always came a slight twist in the way it was spoken with distance. A change in accent. A difference in how much your tongue touched your teeth while talking or how you rolled the 'r's' in bukhroski. But what the Queen spoke in... It was no Iozun. And if it was, then she had obviously taken the accent aspect of the language too far.

         There was an audible and quite rude, "Huh?" from someone in the group, but no one dared to turn to see who it was.

         The Queen blinked a few times as she smiled. She was a person who was two things at the same time. A Queen and a girl. A Royal and a human. Kind until you bit her. Tame until you striked. She kept things clean and quiet for as long as she could. It obviously had helped in diplomatic relations, acting like a balm to wounded nobles, deflecting possible attacks and traitors with a kind smile. It left no room for subtlety either. Caraca would quietly watch and push hidden motives with false ignorance until the reasons ultimately showed themselves in their unmasked versions. Her smile was sweet but powerful. Acelius remembered how tiring it was to constantly know the money, the worth, the power behind you. Rods jammed into your spine until you forgot how to slouch. Thankfully he'd left before it ever fully came to that. Each expression she wore was shown to full completion, no undercurrents of different emotions ran underneath making her seem twice as more intense. He wondered if she'd always been that way or something had changed. Was it the hidden grief for her dead husband and child? Was it royalty? It couldn't be said. 

        "Welcome to Esterham," she translated into the general Iozun, curtaining her foreign accent behind clean, cut, clear words.

         Everyone bowed again as the Master stepped forward, unhatting himself. Acelius bent over, taking the opportunity to check the sheen on his shoes. He licked his thumb and rubbed away a smudge near the tip with a frown and stood back up again.

          "Thank you, fer Coronam," said the Master, choosing now to bow just as everyone else rised.

         "It is the largest pleasure of all our lives to be here, standing in your presence." Acelius tried his best to not roll his eyes. The Queen simply nodded with a terse smile.

        "The pleasure's all mine," she said, her words rolling out like the sweet green plains of West Caraca.

        The Master opened his mouth to argue in the ancient battle of deflecting kind words and curtsies until both wanted to jump off a bridge. Fortunately, the Queen interrupted him before he could start.

        "You may be wondering why you have been summoned here today." No one dared to nod, except Acelius who vigorously assented, dancing on the thin blade of an executioner's sword between disrespect and simple enthusiasm.

        "Solis Circus," she said, more to herself. "The sun. Solis. That is what Solis means. The sun." Acelius couldn't tell if she was daft or distracted. She knew of diplomacy and war strategies but did that include repetitive sentences?

         "As you may have noted in the letter we sent, the Kingdom requests dya presence for Apertum. We need you to be our sun. Caraca's sun. We need you to shine at dya fullest glory for Apertum which takes place, the next full moon. A successful niskcev could guarantee Caracan stability and growth for years, though I doubt you were ever unaware of that."