A Tale Of Queens

Camaraderie

The sun was burned with punishing heat as though it was trying to bake the ground on the open field.

Sa-Alti took another gulp of water, grateful for the canopy under which she was seated. From the distance, she could see Jyaret arrange the men into rows. They seemed to be practicing their posture, intently listening to his instructions. It was a bit surprising how accepting the men were of his authority. She guessed some people just had that had that aura around them, compelling you to hang onto their every word.

Sa-Alti found that Jyaret became a different person entirely as soon as he took hold of his sword. His movements were like a dancer's, graceful and measured. He made the weapon seem like an extension of himself.

He was a marvel to watch. And she did not know what was more distracting. His movements or his naked torso. Both made it very hard to look away.

She returned to her attention to the letter rested on the table in front of her, trying to conclude it. It was addressed to Queen Inuo and was filled with the details of the events of the past few weeks. The Queen had sent a letter a few days ago asking about her progress so far and Sa-Alti was excited to inform her of her achievements. Presently, she was in the middle of penning down her gratitude for the woman's assistance, especially when she'd felt completely alone.

Sa-Alti knew that just like her father, she had found a good friend in the kind and benevolent Queen of Yrsa.

As she concluded her writing, she considered sending another letter to Vileytna. But finally decided not to, considering the fact that all her previous ones were left unanswered. She hoped that her sister would not be too annoyed with her, would just be a little more patient.

She theorized that either her letters were not getting to Vileytna at all or Vileytna had gotten them but was refusing to send a reply. The latter was most likely the case, for the younger woman was the type to clam up whenever she was upset. And she had plenty to be upset about.

A shadow cast across the table and Sa-Alti looked up to see a servant.

“Excuse me, my Queen. A man is here to see you and he insists that he is your friend.”

Sa-Alti's right brow raised.

“Bring him to me.”

She watched the servant leave and return with a certain blacksmith. A smile began to grow on her face. However, it fell when she noticed that Dimtu looked sullen. When they got to the canopy, the servant excused himself, leaving them alone.

Dimtu knelt and bowed his head.

“Hail,” he saluted.

“Dimtu, stand.”

“No, my Queen,” he grunted, refusing to look at her.

“And why is that?”

Dimtu looked up then. He seemed genuinely forlorn.

“The swords. I failed to keep them a secret and the Queen Mother found out. I almost ruined everything, my Queen.”

Sa-Alti found herself heaving a sigh of relief. She was afraid that it was something more serious.

“But you didn't.”

The man watched her, surprised by the flimsiness of her tone. She was correct of course, but why was she taking it so lightly?

As if reading his mind, Sa-Alti insisted for him to get up and take a seat beside her. Convinced that she was not angry with him, Dimtu obeyed.

“I put too much pressure on you,” she admitted, patting his arm. “I must apologize for that. Your task wasn't an easy one but you gave it your all and you completed it. For that, I am grateful.”

“It was an honour, my Queen.”

“None of that now. If we are truly friends, then you must call me Sati.”

“Sati,” he whispered. He sounded unsure and looked like he had just said something forbidden.

She burst into laughter. Dimtu was older than she was but there was a lack of self assurance about him that made him seem younger, more endearing.

He cracked a smile too, finding it easier to relax around her now.

Now that the tension was gone, they began to talk like they had known each other for years.

Sa-Alti was pleased to have an honest conversation with a person outside her circle without any of the usual poseur. Dimtu was an open book once he got over his nerves. And she realised that his favorite thing to talk about was his wife.

He simply adored her. It was in his smile and the sheer delight in his eyes and the way he went on and on about what she liked and disliked, her mannerisms and habits.

She should have been bored but she thought their love story to be bittersweet. Dimtu had lost his best friend after all. But she could tell that it was all worth it to him. She could also tell that he was genuinely perplexed by Ifenda choosing him and not the handsome Halleldi. Sa-Alti had no way of explaining how easy it was to like him, how anyone that knew him could see why he was Ifenda's choice.

They also came to the realization that they shared a love of sweet potatoes and the colour black. Dimtu insisted that they had to be kindred spirits. Sa-Alti agreed with him.

They spoke for hours on end but it seemed like minutes to them. They only noticed how much time had passed when the men began to leave the field and the ground was starting to cool down.

Finally, they bade each other good evening, surprised at how much they already missed each others company.

Hi! How are you doing? I'm sorry for the long wait but I just needed a break to figure some stuff out. Thanks for reading!