The Silent Princess

Isilla pulled herself out of the safe confines of the Veil and back into wakefulness slowly. Her eyes filled with the side of Ilun, as solid and real as he had been when she fell asleep. Only the blanket pressed against her back, Arren had left. Pushing herself up to sitting, she looked around the room.

The curtains closed, the shadows were normal darkness, nothing magic about them. She climbed from the bed and opened them, casting the room in early afternoon light. "No time at all has passed since this morning," she said to Ilun.

He followed her, his body thumping to the floor and crossing the distance to gaze out of the window with her. To her right, the rocky side of the mountain the castle was built into and under that, far below, the forest.

"We're up very high," she said wondering at the strange architecture of the place. Maybe I just need to see more of it to find my footing, she thought, frowning.

She turned back to the room, examining it again in the light. A long, sage colored dress waited on the chair for her. Undergarments folded neatly, sat on top of the skirts. She pulled off Arren's shirt and placed it on the bed before dressing herself in the clothing provided. She frowned as she smoothed the sides, her hand falling through a slit in it. A hole, she thought feeling for her own leg. Her fingers stretched, meeting another seem. A pocket, she thought.

She retrieved her book from the dresser and placed it in the pocket, smiling at the fit of it. Pausing she glanced at herself in the mirror. Her hair spread wild around her, unkempt. She finger combed it, picking out the knots that sleep had put in it. She didn't bother with the braid this time, instead she let it float free around her head and down her back.

She stopped examining her face again. Her own face stared back at her, as it had always been. She pushed back her hair, looking closer at her two cheeks. Their color a honey brown, not mark on either. Lifting the sleeve of her dress revealed an arm that looked to have never been scratched. All her wounds from earlier were healed, her skin perfect.

I just heal fast, she thought but the shade's words played in her memory. Could this be more, she thought before shaking her head. "I have always been like this. There's nothing to question here," she said out loud, to convince herself. The worry remained, a dull tremor under her thoughts.

She glanced back at his bed, the blankets still thrown back from her exit. She reached in her pocket for the book.

Arren, I know you are very busy but I would like to know you better. If you can, please find some time to spend with me. We did agree to be at least friends. Thank you for letting me rest here.

She reread the brief message before signing her name and ripping the page from the book. She placed the note on the dresser, hoping it stayed.

He'll see it by tonight, she thought unsure of what she wanted, or even expected the outcome to be.


"Ilun, come on," she called softly as she walked to the door, pushing it open.

A familiar antechamber opened before her, the same room she had meet with Arren before. There was a garden under that window, she thought, why couldn't I see it from the bedroom?

"Oh, you're awake ma'am," a young voice said. She turned to the couches. The young boy with shaggy brown hair popped up from the floor where he had been, it seemed, playing with some sort of box. He placed it on the couch and dusted off his pants.

"Arren, I mean the prince, he told me to wait for you and then take you back to your rooms. Whoa! Did he make that?"

Isilla looked down at Ilun as he tried to squeeze past her. She patted his head and he stopped, his tail wagging. She smiled at the boy and nodded.

She moved so Ilun could press by. The beast sat at her side, waiting while the boy watched, his eyes big as saucers, mouth slightly open in wonder.

Can you read, she wrote.

He nodded, "Yes ma'am."

We've met before, what's your name?

"It's Julen. I'm Arren's page. Can I touch him?"

She looked at Ilun for a moment, frowning. I'm not sure if he'll let you but you can try, she responded.

Julen nodded slowly and crossed the room, holding out his hand to Ilun. The animal pressed his head to it, forcing the boy to pet him which Julen responded to gladly. Laughing her rubbed Ilun behind the ears and over his long neck. "This one is a lot more fun than the other ones!"

She shook her head, confused on what the boy meant.

"Oh you know, the little ones in his office? With the wings? All the do is work but this one looks like he can do more!"

Ilun had fallen to his back, his belly exposed, four mismatched legs in the air and more tails than Isilla could count, all wagging and beating against the floor at once.

Julen gave a final belly rub before standing. "I have to take you back now. Arren said right away."

She nodded and followed him out of the room. Ilun walked close to her side as they passed down the halls, occasionally he sniffed at the boy's head in front of them, prompting Julen to stop and scratch his ears before he remembered himself.

How old are you, she wrote, tapping him on the shoulder to get his attention.

"I'm ten," he answered. "I've been working under Arren since I was really little. He took me after my mum died."

She touched his head, a comforting gesture. My mother passed away too, she wrote.

"Do you remember her? I don't remember mine, I was too little," Julen asked timidly.

Isilla smiled, their journey paused for a moment. Yes, she was a dancer. She had hair like mine but it was black. She used to sing all day and tell me stories about spirits that lived in the sand. I miss her very much.

"I wish I could remember her," Julen said. "Sometimes I think I see her in my dreams."

Isilla smiled, I'm sure you do! We see all kinds of things in our dreams.

The boy smiled back, showing a missing tooth. "We've got to get going. I'm supposed to have you back by now. He'll know if I took too long."

Will you be in trouble? Will he punish you, she wrote as they walked.

Julen shook his head, "No, he'll just frown a lot and make me do an extra lesson before bed."

Arren cares for this boy that much, she thought as they walked, coming into half familiar halls. Finally they reached her rooms. He stopped at the door and bowed as he opened it.

Thank you, she wrote.

He smiled wide, "I'll see you later!"

She watched as Julen dashed down the hall. Is he going to report back to Arren, she thought as she stepped into her apartments.

As usual, the quiet hall met her. She passed down the empty hall and back into her bedroom. A lunch sat on her table, waiting for her. Two covered trays sat side by side.

She sat down and lifted the domed lid off the lukewarm soup. How long has this been waiting, she thought as she ate it, dipping hard bread into it and chewing slowly. Besides her Ilun whined, licking his lips with his long, wet tongue.

Lifting the lid from the second tray, she revealed a full roast. This is more food than I could possibly eat, she thought, the soup being enough.

She frowned and cut into the roast, the inside showed red, only the outside having been seared. Ilun whined again besides her, drool running from his lips.

Standing she lifted the second plate and placed it on the floor. Ilun moved to devour it but she stopped him. "Just the food! Not the plate," she said before stepping out of the way."

His jaws closed on the roast, ripping meat from it as she settled back into her chair and picked up her spoon again. The ripping and chomping sounds of Ilun eating filled the room and she wished that she her silence could extend to him. Thankfully, he finished quickly. The roast seeming to be enough he padded over to the window and sitting in a false ray of sunlight, curled up as if to sleep.

She finished her own meal and then cleaned up the plate from Ilun, please to see it all in one piece.

Did they do this on their own, she thought as she replaced the covers on the tray and walked out into her own sitting room.

The few activities she had waited for her. She flipped through the book quickly, all the stories in them read twice from boredom. Maybe I should have taken something from Arren's room, would he have minded, she wondered sighing turning away from the table.

These must have come from somewhere though, maybe there's a library, she thought even as she turned to the door to leave.

"Ilun," she called.

The beast came from the bedroom, stretching his long body and followed her out of the door.

She and Ilun padded down the hall. The necklace pulsed at her breast, urging her down another path but she ignored it, picking her way through the rooms, assuming that she would know it when she saw it.

As they walked she peeked into the doors through the key holes, looking for rows of books. She dismissed anything that met her with couches or desks. "Where can this library be," she finally asked out loud to the still air.

She turned the corner and came to stairs. She had never seen stairs in the palace before, it was as if everything existed on the same floor.

She took them, following them downward, the halls they lead to wider and more open. She peeked into the first keyhole she found on a set of double doors and there, in front of her were rows of books.

She clapped, jumping a little before she pushed the door open.

Inside there room was lined with false lamps. She looked around at the high shelves, unsure of where to start. Bookcases soared over her head as she walked. Ilun sniffed the air and barked softly.

"Ah, the Lord of All Shadows' new wife," an old gravelly voice said.

She turned to the sound an old man, frail and bent with age, stood before her. Hair, long, white, and thin like spider webs covered his head. Milky white eyes stared out of his pale thin face. His heavy navy robes hung on him as if they had been made for a much larger man.

"The Princess who can't speak, the dreamweaver. My name is Mattin and I am humbly in your service," he said. Despite his appearance there was a kind smile on his face.

She nodded slowly and he continued, "How can I serve you today, your majesty?"

Reaching into her pocket, she removed the book. Before she could write anything the old man waved it off. "Not needed, dear Princess, these eyes are old but they can read hands well enough.

She clapped and smiled widely pushing the book back into her pocket.

I didn't think anyone here knew how to speak like this, she signed quickly and he smiled.

"Here and maybe where you are from, it is a language of thieves and assassins. Not to be trusted," he explained.

True enough, she had learned how to speak in such a way from the street people of her city, many of whom had likely been thieves. When she met her sisters, other dreamweavers who lived in the palace their whole lives, none of them could use their hands in such a way. They all carried boards and chalk and so she did too. Then why do you know it, she asked.

"I am a man of knowledge," he replied playfully and Isilla relaxed.

I'm looking for something to read, I don't have much to do with my days, she explained.

He nodded, "What do you like to read? We have many books here. Quite a few are dreadfully boring I'm afraid but there are some worthy of a read." The man ambled deeper into the library, Isilla following him.

"Ah, here we are," he said reaching a shelf. The covers of the books seemed to be less in quality than the ones in the front, some of them just bound pages. "I keep a collection of popular novels, printed by commoners in the city. The writing can be, at times, a bit rough but some of their stories are fascinating."

He selected a three books from the shelf and handed her the stack, smiling.

Clapping, she took them from him and held them under her arm. Thank you, she signed, these will be much better than the children's books my maids gave me.

"Hmm, yes, they likely believe, for whatever reasons, that you can't read our language very well but your letters show that you have a strong grasp of it," he said.

Shock flashed through her core. How do you know about my letters, she signed frantically.

His eyes widened for a moment, "Princess, excuse me! It is nothing scandalous. As they were part of the official treaty and engagement process, they're kept here in our records. I assure you, they are not widely read, nor were the ones sent to you. Only myself, members of the council and of course the prince read what was written."

She blushed remembering some of the more intimate secrets that had been shared between them.

"There's no need to worry," Mattin soothed. "Many of them came to me sealed and were stored just as they were."

Do you know who wrote them, the letters to me, she asked sheepishly.

Mattin smiled, "The prince you were meant to marry. Who else would?"

She nodded, the answer as she expected. Thank you. Can you tell me about something else?

The man nodded, "Anything it is in my power to tell."

Can you tell me about Arren? I don't understand him.

The old man smiled, "I'm sorry, my Lady. He keeps his own council and there is likely not much at all to tell."

I only know the stories they tell of him in my lands.

"That he swept the souls out of thousands, trapped them in a world of nightmares?"

She nodded.

"That is very true."

She frowned, her heart beating hard. So he is a monster, she thought.

"But," the old man said, "The full story is much more complicated. If you ask him, he will tell you. It is one thing that he does not keep hidden."

The clock went off, signaling the hour. "Hmm, it's near time for dinner. Shouldn't you be getting back to your rooms? Your maids will be missing you soon."

She glanced away, a shy smile on her face. I'm not sure how to get back. You won't tell anyone that I slipped away will you?

He shook his head, "Come back anytime. I suppose no one has told you the trick of this place. When you leave the library, just focus on where you want to go. The castle will lead you back."

She smiled at him and kissed his cheek. The old man's face turned bright red.

Waving, she left the library, books in hand. Alone with Ilun, she focused on her own bedroom and began to walk.