Caitriona leaving her lesson
Caitriona had once again dismissed her tutor, saying she had arranged a “practical lesson in botany from the royal gardener”, which wasn't too far-fetched as she had a gift when came to plants. Especially with herbs, flowers, and other apothecary needs. There were a few old books in the library about medicinal herbs and anti-poisons written in the old tongue by a priest of the old River Temple. She had been studying the old language with her tutor, so she could read the edicts, laws, and books written long ago. It was standard practice that the royal children learn to read in the old tongue. Caitriona never saw much use for that, she would never be seated at the trial bench, or ever need to interpret the old laws. She would never be the queen of Uttara, or anywhere as it stood. What use was learning to read or do numbers when she was destined to be a princess for life? She would be taken care of, have servants to do for her every need. When the tutor had left the room, and before her handmaidens could enter, she had slipped under a tapestry to another door that led to a little-known hall that passed behind the music room and came out near the north tower. She was consumed with thoughts of the coming engagement ceremony and was headed to the royal tailor. Breanne's engagement ceremony, at least everyone seemed to assume it would be her, was in two months at Marwood Castle in Dakshin. They'd never get her dress how she wanted; they would make it as her mother ordered, and she had no taste at all. Her dress needs to be better than everyone's.
The tailor's room was just off the north tower on the main floor. Caitriona skipped through the pointed arch of the service door into an unadorned hallway, shoes clicking an echo on the stone floor, and turned left. She could hear familiar voices talking softly from a room third from the end. With much anticipation, she turned the corner and entered the room.
One of the girls looked up from her work, gasped, and stood to curtsy. The tailor, seeing this motion turned around quickly, and the others followed suit. The room went quiet as everyone bowed to her. Cait surveyed the room and her attention was immediately caught by a shimmery, deep blue gown of silk that one of the girls was sewing large amber beads onto the bodice. The servants waited, bowing, until she spoke to them.
“This must be mine,” she cooed over the dress. “It's more beautiful than I expected, as Mother has no taste when it comes to me. I would like more white pearls on the sleeve and mix amber in at the cuff.”
No one spoke. Cait looked impatiently at the tailor. He looked a little flustered. She had been here many times before, he was always grateful for her advice, but now he was, rudely, without words.
“You...your Highness,” the older man stooped and stammered, face flushing “that dress is for Princess Breanne. It is her engagement dress. Yours is this one, in gold.”
He shuffled to the right and grabbed the most hideous brown garment she had ever seen. The maid holding it looked absolutely horrified, as she should. It was an awful color, hardly gold at all, and just a simple ivory lace. It was insulting. She could feel the rage color her cheeks. No, this would not do at all.
Sensing the coming wrath, the tailor quickly grabbed some red silk ribbon and offered her a solution.
“The Queen ordered these dresses herself, your Highness, and I am obliged to keep my word. But if I may, your Highness, I know how lovely you look in red. I can add red ribbon with garnet and pearl beading to the bodice. This is the finest gold silk from Pallavicini, for your dress.”
Caitriona held out her hand and motioned to the gold dress. It may due for some peasant event, but she was a daughter of her royal highness Queen Ashling, and this was not what she would wear. As she held the fine silk garment in her hand, she did notice that it was cut perfectly for her. He did have a way of making each of her dresses flatter her perfectly. How could he listen to the Queen and make this for her when her sister was getting a stunning color that would match Cait's own eyes magnificently? Then she spied a burning oil lamp on the table. She dropped the gown to the ground and before anyone could react, she snatched up the oil lamp and dropped it on the gold silk.
“I understand your daughter would like to be presented at court, if she is not stricken by some plague and is well enough to come. Maybe she has desires to marry one day, if anyone would have her.” Caitriona's icy voice spoke as she watched the gown in flames.
“Your blue dress will be as you wish, your Highness,” the tailor's voice croaked as he understood her threat and bowing deeply. “I shall make Princess Breanne one in green...”
“NO! You will put this flame out before you ruin this lovely gold dress and fix it for my sister!” She interrupted and demanded, continuing her icy stare, then turned and left the room.
Caitriona retreated to the castle gardens and sat in the “Queen's Garden” feeling particularly satisfied with herself. She knew that sometimes it takes a little inspiration for servants to do their duty. The tailor would forgive her later, he always did.
This particular part of the gardens was her favorite, not only was it pale and beautiful as herself, but she could also watch the ravens fly about. Queen Maeve I was said to have this planted as her private spot hundreds of years ago. There was a white marble fountain of 7 ravens spewing water into a marble marsh in the center of this lush garden spot. The fountain was flanked by white roses, white tulips, white northern shade, and white queen's bells. A white marble bench was placed just to the left of a white marble life-size statue of the queen herself. At the base of this statue was the only colored flower in the queen's garden. Cait absentmindedly picked at the blossoms on the plant, a very vibrant red foxbelle. You could dry these blossoms and crush them with oil to make red lip and cheek pigment, which was just what she needed. Interestingly, the milk from the foxbelle stem was a sweet-smelling, paralytic poison, used in the kitchens to trap rats, she had learned that interesting fact from one of the old books. This was her favorite flower, she mused as she bent her head to smell the fragrant blossoms, then picked them all and wrapped them in her handkerchief.
It seemed to her that no one was looking out for her best interests, which as it happened, were the best for the kingdom as well, she thought. This was all a huge mistake. Why was she the only one who could see it? At twenty, Breanne was way older than Prince Tirvan and whoever, EVER heard of a queen being older than her king? Whereas she was sixteen, the same age as the Prince, and that was perfectly acceptable. Her parents must have lied about Breanne. Really, why would the King and Queen of Dakshin want Breanne over her? A princess is a princess when it comes to royal marriages. Why not choose the beautiful one? Certainly the prince would. She would just have to be irresistible, and he would choose her. She would be a queen.
Friar Dayne had told her it was in the stars last time they were at Friar's Gate. The Gods had given him the gift of reading the stars most accurately, better than all the other friars. Once a star has been read, if it falls to the mountains and becomes iron, it is destiny. There was more to her prophesy, she could tell, but Dayne seemed reluctant to say more. Probably, she mused to herself, because he believed too much foresight caused vanity and carelessness. Clearly, he didn't know her very well, but nonetheless, he was certain she would become a queen.
Several of the garden's white ravens had now begun circling overhead. Several had landed in a nearby apple tree. They seemed to be watching her, heads tilted sideways, cawing to each other as if discussing her. As much as she admired them, she was also wary of them. They liked to watch her in the gardens, at least 3 always in a tree or bush near her. When she walked the market with her brother they would fly overhead, but not if Padraig was alone. She'd watched him leave the castle with his guards, and no ravens would appear. She did wonder sometimes if they were guarding her or watching her. They must be her guardians, she always told herself, because their feathers were as white as her hair. She could possibly be the next Raven Queen.
She'd heard the old tales from the governess that had watched her and her sister as children. Morna was a stout believer in the old ways and old tales, a fool Caitriona now realized. But she had told her the legend of the Raven Queen, which was verified, most shockingly, by her own mother. The ravens had once been black, hard to believe because no one that Cait talk to had ever seen a black raven, not even the ancient-old woman who made luck charms in the market, and she had to be 90 if a day. It was said that Kyra, the firstborn and daughter of King Bradach II was passed over for the throne, which was given to her brother King Bradach III. King Uttara himself, thousands of years before, had set the edict that the throne is passed to the first-born child, boy or girl. Kyra became so angry when her father announced Bradach III as his heir, she threatened to leave the castle and take the ravens from the whole land with her, so the insects would take over and there would be no food. This was like 400 years ago, or so, Caitriona couldn't remember now exactly. Kyra had a way with the ravens, and they did her bidding, almost like dogs. When the king died, and her mother did not stand up for Kyra's right to rule, her brother became king and she left Rivergarden and the Kingdom of Uttara and took the ravens with her into the Dakkur Bodden mountains. 15 years of blight, insects, famine, and the new queen's inability to conceive a child threatened to put an end to King Bradach III's rule, so he was counseled to beg Kyra to return with the ravens. He sent 500 men into the mountains to look for her, but the only one to return was Kyra with her 13-year-old daughter Maeve and a flock of white ravens. It was said that Maeve was conceived by The Raven King and had white hair and black eyes. The price of Kyra's return was that her daughter would inherit the throne. She became Queen Maeve I and designed the improvements and expansions to the gardens that kept the kingdom alive, even to this day, the gardens and canals were as Queen Maeve I designed them. And the ravens have been white ever since.
Lost in thought, she was only vaguely aware of her name being called. It was only when her four handmaidens started to enter the sanctuary did her attention come around to the present. She did not allow them into her tutor sessions, and they were made to wait in the hall, so she had slipped out another door to avoid their tiresome questions. They seemed so ridiculously eager to learn, as if that would land them a better husband. It was beauty men wanted, not brains. She had seen it time and time again with the men at court. An intelligent wife meant a beautiful mistress.
Her handmaidens stopped at the white roses that grew over the sanctuary's entrance, but the two queen's guards pushed past and stopped in front of her. Caitriona reluctantly left her spot to be escorted back into the castle for what she was sure was another lecture.