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THE KING IN THE NORTH 48
By now, Selene knew the pattern of the gasp. It was a high pitch wail that descended to a soft humming, also went up again. Selene sat on her bed, her chamber now holding herself and her family. Selene locked the little queen inbetween her shanks and circled her with her arms, her own chin atop the child's head. The gasp was untamed. Monotonous and pained. She wondered why the guards of the manor house could not make a skinny menial quiet or perhaps it was fright that the demoiselle may have been stunk and infected. Selene could feel the shiver creep upon her again that morning. She had seen the maid at the regale the Lord had forced her to. The girl had led a smiling Mia to the reiterating hall and promised to tuck her to bed after a bed story latterly. also this morning the riots had woken her up, with a veritably confused looking Mia coming to her bed chamber attended by a guard. The stories had come, by another aged woman that came to prepare the goddesses for the day, that
THE KING IN THE NORTH 49
She was familiar with the annoying chime. The bell close to her bed chimed doggedly with a incorrect punch. The bell was used in Riverland, when retainers were too many for delegated duties. The Sol manor house didn't have it. Selene misdoubted they would, with the mass of slaves-willing and unintentional- they had acquired from their land conquering. The council had many retainers perhaps. Or they didn't waste them on guests. The aged woman she could flash back from that night came in, two woven baskets in hand. One holding hair apkins and another a covered server. Or perhaps two. " Lady Selene" she addressed shortly and simply smiled at the youthful child. " You should have breakfast. Or perhaps the reiterating hall would be preferable" the lady asked " No, it's fine then" Selene said as she sat straighter on her bed. The mattress wasn't nearly as soft as her bed back at the manor house. She had slightly slept. The jitters she knew not its root gripped her. numerous studies ran
THE KING IN THE NORTH 50
The field was tense. One could smell the pressure long hauls down like a reek. The nursers girdled a bleeding legionnaire. Edgar gutted his brand and faced it, he'd taken it too far. " You've gone too far- my lord" the prim butler said as he came to the spar grounds upon notice. " He was unrehearsed. Not the men I need in legion right now" Edgar replied calmly " What bothers you" Nicholas asked " Nothing" Edgar replied after a light at the aged man " It's commodity" He Prodded " You know me too important Nick" Edgar breathed out as he handed the cotton back to his hand boy and paraded down from the scene. Nicholas in hitch. " The child. Her father has upset her" Edgar said Nicholas couldn't effectively hide his snort. Why would that bother the Sol king of all pressing issues? " I see. And that bothers you" Nicholas asked " further than I like. She's a child. It's only anticipated that she may bend to please Cedric" Edgar replied " And Cedric's wished are?" Nicholas ques
THE KING IN THE NORTH 51
It smelt like spoilage. Like seven day old meat. also heave and dirt. The growls from the cell was low and guttural. He goggled at it. Yes, no longer his olive barked seed. Not his funny, garrulous child. No. Her eyes shone constitutionally. The blue balls like glass, too transparent, too unrecognizable. He gulped. " She feeds?" he asked. " As you earn" was the short reply. He turned to regard at the woman sprucely. She held his aspect with a force that equalled his. " How further does she need?" he asked, looking down from the woman" So much. And better if timely. She has not important of that left" the woman told him " She can be healed, stable, stronger and better. It all lays with you Sir" she said Why would you not want to be stronger, better and insurmountable? He pained to ask, but he formerly knew the reply. It was a game of cards, she may noway be healed. May noway recover, God knows how the vicious conglomerate did it? perhaps they were made and fed from day one. pe
THE KING IN THE NORTH 52
Selene watched the hole in the cotton shirt of the carriage motorist. She was yet to decide if weeping was proper or simply smiling at the asininity of the situation A man she slightly knew. Surely she was not so sure he was meritorious of her gashes. But she had one emotion veritably complete, fear. Fear because deep in she knew this was one big Field mine that would blow one after the last Until it blew her up in it's crazy mess too. Death had a reek, she was sure now. An horizonless sour smell that left her speechless every time she allowed of how important of it she would witnessed in her little moons at the palace of HoraceO'alistair The burial has been complete with ale passed round and aged women adorned in black blankets singing a requiem. She could hardly hold her gashes as she departed unfit to take food at similar occasions How could one drink over a death? What cause of merriment did it exactly bring? The Lord was on a mood she scarcely saw him in, not the
THE KING IN THE NORTH 53
The maids outside her marshland chamber were tattling. The low tale and snort mixed with skimp cachinnations was enough suggestion. Selene dropped her arm with the soft hair mixed with scented sauces. Selene had transferred all the chamber maids down and claimed on bathing alone. The look on the high retainers face was keen to a conniving mouse, and her mate her smile was as fake as her dyed black hair. She could hear their gossip reduce to many statements before both eventually quieted down. No doubt doing further tasking workshop than making her formerly made bed. The sun was warmer than she wanted, it's shafts percolated the room she sat. The water she was immersed warm and virgin. Selena closed her eyes for a while and only breathed the sauces she had washed with. Her hair now having the lush scent. Peace, just for a moment she felt peace. The drink from the merriment that had been till dusk from the former day still want round. She knew as much from the mild chatter
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.thump.thump. thump. Was it her heart or a dull pounding of some carpenter? She didn't really mind. Her eyes were fixed on the white cotton. The bulk in it. The child in it. Her family in it. The Lord was by her side, his woodsy smell filled her nostrils, but not as important as the smell of myrrh, of sauces and blood. Death indeed had a reek. The head legionnaire stood by the king. Another guard she had not looked at stood by her side. A front the throne was the croaker and Diana. The menial a blubbing mess, her nose watery. Her clothes long soaked with the salty levee that flowed down her eyes. Selene could hear her hiatus but her eyes remained in the bandaged bulk. Her responsibility. She had failed. Oh she wished she could cry. But also gashes sounded to have dried up at their source. " Woman. What happed?" Edgar said, his voice laced with pure wrath The menial fell on her knees. " I don'tknow.I don't understand" she prayed with a sob " The child was left in your care!"
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The slight warmth of the season was eventually gone. There came the cold wave. Vocally but promising of a harsh downtime. Men worked harder, logging trees and making domicile. The retainers reject and washed linens to last the cold wave. Fireplaces were moulded again on the hallways and corridors. The old bones brought to live with coal and timber. The candles were made bigger and meat dried with the last memorial of sun. The manor house was alive with conditioning. But his heart was a bit far from living. The child had yet to leave her chamber. Days and nights had passed and counted down to four and twenty. She noway came out. Every day he'd pipped and everyday he'd seen the same thing. A pale child on her bed. gaping into oblivion. He'd allowed her strong. Had seen a fire not fluently banged out. Oh had he been wrong? Was she too weak to be alive again? Her reason for fighting was gone. Everyone had a weakness. He'd read like as everything. A Napoleon, a bachelorette,