Stacks on the Shelves...

[Liway]

What was it again?
Lately it's been easier to forget, easier to let go. But she understands; some memory needs to pass through like water trickling between your fingers.
With her right hand, she pulls the curtains open, letting the light of dawn come to her bedroom. She stared at the lightening sky with resentment. Lately, the weather has been making a fool of her emotions. She's usually on the verge of tears as the sky turns blue and the suns shines like there's no tomorrow.
You mock me.
She turned her back to the window and closed her eyes. Keeping her mind blank, she started counting forwards and backwards. First by increments of one, then three, then by decrements of seven then nine. She even entertained the idea of painting every single stone on the river-side by the park in every hue of red imaginable.
"Idleness is bad for you," she murmured and almost gagged at the smell of her own breath. "Ugh! Call yourself a queen, do you? You smell like dead rats. A day old dead rat."
Flinging the sheets off her, she got up and walked to the bathroom. Looking at herself in the mirror brought a smile to her dark red lips. "At least you're still beautiful even if you do stink."
Just to make sure, she brushed her teeath twice before finally taking a shower.
 

[Liway]

She don the white thick robe then encased her long green hair in a white towel. Looking at the mist on the mirror, she made her hand into a fist and pushed the soft side of it to the mirror; then with all the tip of her five fingers touching each other, she pushed them lightly above where her fist touch the glass. She smiled at the little foot she had made with the dews.
Her heart missed a bit and it was almost too tempting not to will it to go on. She missed Eilman, her youngest brother, so much.
With anger barely controlled, she wiped off the dew on the mirror with her palm.
"Cindy!"
The door to the bathroom opened. A girl, two or three years younger than her, with hair the colour of golden wheat stood aside to let her pass. "One of the servants came in a minute ago to bring your breakfast. I don't recognised her."
Sylvia gestured for her to sit. "She's probably one of the new ones."
Cindy walked over to set of chairs and sat on the one closest to the window over looking the Queen's private garden. She mentally noted to dragged Sylvia to visit the garden sometime today.
"How do I look?"
It was just a Royal gown made of diaphonous green silk. It is wrapped around the body fifteen times, each round representing each of the houses. You either looked good or not. Cindy bowed three times, as is proper from the daughter of one of the Towers to the members of the Royal House. "You look like a Queen on business. I'm sure you've others to wear."
"I do but I would need help in doning any one of them. At the moment, the palace do not have enough staff. Too many died."
Cindy looked away but not before she saw her friend's eyes hardened like emerald stones. She could feel herself reddening; one should not look upon the grief of another. It is a sacred thing.
 

[Liway]

"Oh, Cindy. You are my closest friend. Could you forget the proprieties, at least when it's just the do of us? I have no one else. Don't distant yourself as well."
Cindy shook her head. "Forgive me. But upbringing is a hard thing to ignore. But as you say, we have always been closest. A throne should not distance us."
Sylvia's face became stern. "If you start acting like those damn leech of nobles, I'm going to appoint you my Shield! Then they're all going to have to waste your time instead of mine."
"That is awful. I heard you were with them all through lunch yesterday! If I become your Shield, they're going to have to go through a hole on fire to even say "Good day" to you. Can't they see the white mourning flags outside the palace?"
Sylvia sipped her tea. She has actually wondered why the petitioners have not taken heed of the mourning flags. Could it be that the lack of staff in the Palace allowed to bully their way inside?
"Cindy, I need a favour."
"Name it."
"I would like an audience with your father."
"Right now?"
"After breakfast is fine. Eat with me."
Cindy laid out the food from the gilded tray. She wanted to know what it is that Sylvia want with her father but she held her tongue. Curiosity will have to wait. she will hear from either of them sooner or later.  

[Mr.Tooshie]

After breaking fast with a generous ration of porridge with crystalized ginger and berries with a side of slivers of roasted ham on a roll of maize and while drinking black morning tea with no sugar so to compensate for the sweet tooth the royal cook seemed to think Sylvia still had, she and Cindy talked about how to get word to her father about an impromptu meeting. "It will be best if the messenger arrives only minutes before we do, and if the message only carries my seal and name, not my titles," Sylvia recapitulated. "Yes, but what if he's got visits? Is he meant to dispose of them? Or if he is conducting business outside the manor? How will you find him then?" These were points Cindy had raised a million times now, not aware of the politics it involved, or lacked, making a social visit to one of the Tower's manor in The City. "I won't, your father will come to the house eventually, will he not?" "Well, yes. The man has to eat somewhere!" After finishing the tea Sylvia decided that she would take the day for helself, there was nothing that needed her approval that could not have been signed by her steward or mistress of keys.  

[Mr.Tooshie]

"The coach is ready." The young groom announced from his bow, deep and without faltering, just as a man without a title would do when anyone from the Royal house approached or spoke to them. "Thank you, we will be there in a minute," Cindy was right, the Queen's garden was marvelous and it felt nothing like the suffocating palace with all its duties and responsabilities. Cindy peered down at the small pond enjoying the simple life of the fishes the colour of rainbows, "I told you it was a good idea to come down here!" "I know," and she led her best friend by the arm back again into the palace and into the yard where the coach awaited. It was still morning, not yet into early afternoon when she knocked on the door of the manor, a huge door made of polished red oak, almost as wide as it was tall enough to allow two riders enter the door abreast. But nothing here suggested the need of fortifications on the contrary, it was only the splendor of The City that allowed to live with such commodities and peace of mind, that is, until the assasination of The Royal Family, The House of The City, The Spring of The Empire.  

[Mr.Tooshie]

The door opened and it revealed the aromas that were present since the coach entered the manor's garden, surely the cook was getting ready for the noonday meal. A small wrinkled woman appeared soon after the door hung open, "Cinthya, it was about time for you to come home, you spend more hours in that palace that in your own house, now, have you come for 1st supper?" The old woman's voice still sounded vibrant despite her apparent age, and she carried herself straight, surely years and years of schooling of posture and an air of self-importance that was only the bare minimum of what you would expect from the mother of the current High Seat of the House Bryar.  

[Mr.Tooshie]

"Grandma! Don't be rude, we've got guests!" Composing herself a triffle and trying not to blush, she knew that to her she would always be her grandaughter no matter what, and to that only the little infant that used to run around the house playing pranks on the servants and lords and ladys alike, crying when sent to bed and eager to hear the stories of either grandfather, uncles or her own father. "Oh, really?" The old lady answered allowing room for Cinthya to step through, and taking her arm to lean close enough for her to whisper, "Is he a handsome young lord that you fancy for the High seat and bed of Lady Cinthya of House Bryar, eh?" The old lady replyed with a discreet smile and a sparkle in her eyes that made her still look young without much effort. "Grandma!" This time cinthya couldn't help but blush furiously, she was after all interested in men, and when grandma had noticed, well, she had imparted a few lessons here and there about how to 'tame them' and how to 'drive them mad' when desired.