The Silent Princess

He stepped away reluctantly, holding her for a breath too long, his hands sliding down her arms as his shadows pulled back, leaving her. She lifted her hand to pull him back but the strangeness of her surroundings stopped her.

Are these my new rooms, she thought staring up at the grand hall. Lamps floated along the ceiling, casting warm, golden light onto the tiled floor. Beautiful wooden arches and pillars lined the wall and between them, detailed murals were painted depicting storied scenes.

In front of her stood the entrance to three halls. She turned, large stained glass doors, the image shifting gently from one scene to another marked the way out of the apartments. I've never seen doors like that in this place, she thought.

"These were the apartments of Queen Neus. She lived some four hundred years ago and had these rooms built to her specifications. After her death her husband, the King Josu had them sealed. They required some cleaning before they could be used again," Arren explained.

I'm not a queen, this is far too extravagant for me, she wrote.

He smiled down at her, "Your last rooms were far too common."

She moved to respond but he hooked her arm into his and began walking, leading her down one of the halls while he spoke. "These apartments have their own kitchens, gardens, and even a library although Mattin has confiscated many of the books for the royal collection as they are the only copies left in existence but I understand that they are currently in the process of being copied so maybe they'll return here."

Isilla only half listened as they passed down wide halls, moving deeper into the apartments. They passed doors carved with beautiful designs and large tapestries. She didn't realize that he had stopped speaking, their footsteps the only sound she could hear.

She pulled out of his arm and held up her hands, signaling him to stop. Who is supposed to live here? This space is too large for just me, she wrote.

"You and your staff. Your maids, your cooks, dressmaker, groundskeeper, etc. Everyone you need," he said smoothly.

I don't have any of those, she wrote, confused.

"Yes, you do and have since you married me. You just haven't been aware. I suppose tomorrow morning you should meet your staff, formally," he said frowning. "In any case, we're here."

He opened the door they stood in front of. A wide sitting room with lush couches and low tables. Windows lined the room on both sides. How, she thought walking towards one holding her hand to it. The glass, cold to the touch showed her a view of a thick forest.

She turned, questioning Arren.

"You must have noticed by now, that the castle is not a constant space, that the parts don't connect the way you think they should. These rooms are like that. It's what the queen designed."

It seems to be a great waste of power, she wrote.


He raised an eyebrow, "Or a show of it. Your bedroom is through that door. Please change, this dress is too heavy for indoor wear and I don't think you'll be going out again today. Wait for me here. I'll return very soon."

The shadows twisted around him. Suddenly alone she took in the room again before moving forward and opening the door that lead to her own bedroom.

Her hand stilled on the knob in shock. Her bedroom laid out before her, far larger and more stately than her last room. The bed sat in the center, nearly twice the size of her last with thick comforters in lavish, rich fabric and topped with plush pillows.

On the floor, thick carpets covered the tile, she removed her boots before steeping onto them, her feet sinking as she walked. She pushed the door closed behind her, focused on the space in front of her. Her dresser and wardrobe stood on opposite sides of the room, each in heavy, dark wood. The top of the dresser, overtaken with a thick, gold framed mirror, jewelry boxes sat closed and waiting before it.

"These are not the same as before," she said crossing the room and opening them revealing heavy necklaces and bracelets made from thick silvers and golds, adorned with precious stones. Far more grand than the pieces that she had seen before.

In the center of it all sat the ring of keys and the glowing beetle from the Veil. She tapped the glass but it seemed unconcerned with its new environment or her attentions. "Are you even alive?" she mumbled to it. "But where are my other things?" she wondered turning in the room before spotting her trunk.

Tucked in the corner in a small nook, it sat by itself next to a comfortable couch. She crossed the room to it, bending and opening it in a quick movement. Inside were her things. She smiled, running her fingers over her few possessions, happy that they had followed her so far even if they no longer matched what appeared to be her current standing.

"I suppose my husband is a prince of this realm so I must be of some wealth but," she groaned softly, dropping the thought. "My place, whatever it is, is just for show, I have no power or importance."

She closed her trunk and turned back to the room. I'm supposed to change, she thought as she crossed to the dressing table where an outfit sat waiting for her. She stopped as she saw it. Her mouth hung open slightly as she reached, touching the familiar fabric gently. This is, she thought as she lifted the clothing, unable to complete the words for fear it would crumble as the leaves had crumbled in her hand.

The dress, a simple frock with long skirts and sleeves would not make anyone look twice. Although a beautiful dusty pink color, the cut and the simple embroidery in soft gray on the bust and sleeves would hardly be memorable A dress to go to market in, not for a princess but in these rooms, the dress became the most beautiful thing Isilla had ever seen.

"This is, from my home," she finally whispered.

A giddy feeling began to move through her and smiling she shed the heavy dress, replacing it easily with the light garment. She dashed across the room look at herself in the mirror. Her hair seemed out of place but the dress filled her with happiness. She reached to take down the bun when a knock sounded from the door.

She stopped and skipped across the room to answer it. Arren smiled down at her from the other side. He had changed into a long, wine dark jacket with intricate embroidery. His once windswept hair had been brushed back to giving him an overall formal and intimidating stance but his eyes were soft on her.

"This suits you well," he said. "Are you ready? I do not have much time left before I must leave you and I still have one more surprise for you."

She pointed at the dress and then the room behind her.

He chuckled in response, "Clothing and a place to sleep are not surprises. Those are basic necessities that a husband should provide his wife. No, your last surprise is something else."

Curious she slipped her feet into the slippers that were placed with the dress and placing the scarf , dyed the same color as the dress with matching embroidery, loosely over her head. Picking up her book she paused and pointed at the dresser.

Arren raised and eyebrow, "Hmm?"

She crossed the room and opened one of the boxes, pulling out a heavy necklace, pointing at herself.

"Why were you given those things?" he asked, voicing her question.

She nodded.

"They belonged to the queen whose room this was and now, just like the rooms, the halls and everything else, it belongs to you. Come now, my little bird. I am almost out of time," he said, holding out his hand.

She took it and he lead her from the room and back down the halls.

How will I navigate this place, she thought, is it like the rest of the castle? Do I just think of where I want to go?

Arren pushed open a glass door, warm air blowing through it.

The scent of flowers surrounded her as soon as he stepped through it, Arren close behind. Before her laid a flight of stairs that lead to green covered space. Trees and thick bushes of flowers spread out before her. The ceiling above, a dome with a false sun that shone down over it. The room, a huge garden.

"No! You cheat!" the sound carried to Isilla from somewhere in the depths of it, stilling her.

That voice, she thought, her heart beating fast.

Ilun barked.

"You cheat, too!" the voice sounded again, high and female.

"Am not! You just aren't good at this game!" Julen yelled back.

It can't be, Isilla thought, her feet already carrying her down the stairs and into the garden at a run, following the sound of bickering until she broke into a clearing, a fountain in the center of it.

She stopped, out of breath, taking it in. Julen stood with a red ball in his hands, his hair messier than usual flew all over his head, his jacket discarded on the ground in a pile. Ilun pranced, happy to see his mistress barking and shaking. Between them both, the woman in a yellow dress, similar to the one that Isilla herself wore, stood.

"Harbit," Isilla said in a cracking voice that only Ilun could hear.

Alerted by the change in Ilun, Haribit looked away from Julen and his ball and saw her. A wide smile spread on her bronze colored face, her deep amber colored eyes sparkling. "Isilla," she breathed.

The two women ran to each other, laughing and jumping as they joined in a tight embrace.

"Oh, oh, why you crying?" Haribit asked as she wiped at Isilla's tears.

Isilla returned the gesture, wiping Haribit's wet face with her palm before hugging her again.

"How?" Isilla asked, letting Haribit read her lips.

"The Prince! He worked out some sort of agreement. I don't know, I can't get my head around politics. But they said that you could have a maid from home and I volunteered!" Haribit said excitedly.

Isilla shook her head in confusion and turned back to Arren. He watched them, his head tilted slightly, his hair falling over his forehead before he pushed it back and straightened himself.

"This pleases you then?" he asked, a smile, genuine and soft across his lips.

Isilla released Haribit and stepped back towards Arren. He watched her, frowning slightly, waiting for her answer.

She moved without thinking, standing on her toes to meet his height, her fingers twisted into his jacket to steady herself as she pressed her lips against his. His hands caught her arms as his body doubled to meet hers, letting her lower herself to ground, his lips still on hers for a breath before she settled back on her feet.

His face still close to hers, he breathed deeply, eyes closed. He opened them, a high blush on his pale cheeks before he released her, pulling away. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away from her, his words stumbling from his mouth, "I have to go. Your lunch, your lunch is coming soon. Julen, come here please."

Sulking, the boy gathered his jacket, dropping the ball, and shoulders bowed, crossed the cobblestone ground to where Arren stood, waiting.

"You're filthy," he said sighing and placing a hand on Julen's head.

"I wanna play with Haribit and Ilun more!" he cried.

"Hush, you need to wash and complete your studies for the day," Arren's words left no room to argue.

"Did you show Isilla Chicken?" Julen asked.

"Princess Isilla, and yes, I showed her Chicken, no more questions. We have to go," Arren scolded. "Enjoy your friend and your new rooms, my little bird."

"You're blushing," Julen pointed out.

Arren's face turned a deeper shade of red as he bowed, the shadows rising and was gone, taking Julen with him.

Isilla turned back to Haribit and wrote quickly, Why would you come here?