The Silent Princess

Her condition worsened over the next two days. She woke hot and delirious, her breathing quick, her body drenched in sweat, as if she had been running. The doctor shook his head and gave her more medicine, for her aching body and to help her sleep.

"The fever will break soon. Keep her comfortable and warm. She should stay in bed until it comes down and then a few days afterwards," the old man said while Arren sat on the edge of her bed, brushing wet strands of hair from her skin. "There's nothing anyone can do for her, it just has to run its course."

Arren nodded, his eyes locked on her, a frown on his face. She smiled weakly up at him and closed her eyes, falling back into her dreams.

She sighed as her gate opened, Udane smiling as she entered. The old woman sat on the bench next to her, folding her hands in her lap. Isilla smiled at her, her company welcome, as she settled on the ground. As usual she summoned up a pile of cushions and leaned against Ilun.

"You are still ill?" the old woman asked.

"Yes," Isilla replied. "The doctor says it is something in my chest but it will pass as long as I stay in bed."

The old woman nodded, "That is very good."

"As soon as I am better, I'll find you all," Isilla said, promising.

Udane waved the statement away, "It has been this long. I am not worried. Why do you sit on the ground? You're a princess!"

She smiled shyly, "I'm used to to it. This is how we sat in my mother's house. We didn't have much furniture. Just carpets and cushions."

"Your mother was not the Queen? The Light Realm sent a bastard to marry the prince?" the woman looked confused.

"There is no queen in my country. The Emperor, my father, doesn't marry any of the women he has children with."

"Then how does he know which are his and which are some other man's?" she asked.

Isilla lifted a tuft of her hair, "We all have hair like this."

The woman laughed, "How peculiar! So if Asier came to your lands he could be a prince?"

Isilla giggled, "It's not that simple. He would have to come to the Acropolis and be presented to the Grand Avatar who would ask him about about his mother. If they found her name among the list of my father's lovers then he could be a prince, yes. There's no worth in it though. It's not like here, my father will not die. He uses the light to prolong his life so his sons can never become Emperor. He doesn't care about his children unless they are dreamweavers and of those he only cares about the girls."

Udane frowned, "Does he," she paused mulling over her words, "make children with his daughters?"

Isilla's face twisted in disgust. "Absolutely not! We are just calmer and work together better, I suppose."

The woman nodded.

"Why are there so few of you in this realm? There are many of us in my homelands, all of us aren't related to the Emperor at all but here, you are all that I've seen," Isilla asked, changing the subject.


"We're dangerous," she answered simply. "You create peace and we sow despair. We used to be considered a valuable part of the kingdom. When we were born we would be paid for by the various lordships, to come and increase their power. But then the Crown wanted to have the power and started hunting us down. He killed many, imprisoned the rest. He thought it would bring more peace to the land."

Isilla mulled over the woman's words, the bits and pieces of the realm's problems that Arren had shared coming to her. "I don't think it worked very well. But, the royal family wasn't always like this? They are very powerful."

The woman shook her head, "No, before they weren't very powerful, just very clever."

Isilla opened her mouth to ask what the woman meant but she felt a numbness in her. "I'm waking up," she warned.

"Then I will take my leave," Udane said, standing. "I'll visit again when you return."

Isilla nodded as her gate shut and she opened her eyes in the waking world.

"No!" Harbit hissed.

"It is not a matter that is up for any discussion," Arren said calmly, coldly.

"How can you say that? You heard the doctor! She must stay in bed!"

"I have put this off for as long as I can," Arren's voice met Haribit's, cold and hard.

She doesn't know, she's speaking to the other one now, Isilla thought, her mind a muddle as she pushed herself into a seated position.

"Isilla! Lie back down!" Haribit said, catching sight of her efforts.

"Go get her maids and then help them wash and dress her. We have an hour before we must depart. You will also need to put on something more presentable. Go now, I do not like to be kept waiting," he growled.

"I will do no such thing! Isilla needs to-," Haribit started as Arren held up his hand.

"Haribit, need I remind you that you are speaking with the Prince of this realm? You will not disobey me. You will not question me. I will forgive you just this once but I will not tolerate this behavior again. Now go get her maids."

Around them, his shadows stretched, long and dark to the ceiling, swallowing the light as they shifted and moved, betraying his foul mood.

Haribit opened her mouth as if she would argue further before she saw them, twisting thick and heavy all around her.

"As you wish, my Lord," she replied, turning and leaving the room, shutting the door too hard behind her.

He turned to Isilla, a deep frown on his face as he crossed the room. He reached for her but she stopped him, holding her hand against his chest. He looked down at it, his expression falling with his shadows.

"I will apologize to your friend. We simply do not have time. The Council has called for you again and they will not be put off."

She looked at him, shaking her head, confused.

"They have been asking for your presence before them for the last three days. I have told them that you were too ill but they will not be stalled any longer," he reached her again, brushing back her hair and she moved away from the touch, upset at his behavior.

He dropped his hand, his frown returning to his face.

"Lehan?" she asked the name clear on her lips.

He shook his head. "No, I settled that matter with him directly. It should not trouble you again. There is some doubt of you. I am not clear on what but we must appear before them to assure them of you."

She nodded, coughing into her palm.

He held up a handkerchief to her mouth, which she took in shaky fingers. "If this were something I could stop, I would but we can't ignore the summons from the Council. It will be quick. Dressing will tire you but you can rest some in the carriage before you see them."

She nodded and he bent, leaning towards her. She let him brush his lips across her cheek.

Sighing he stepped away as her maids entered.

The women bowed to Arren, even Haribit, her eyes shooting daggers. He paid them no mind as he left the room, shutting the door behind him.

They stared wide eyed at Isilla. They hadn't seen how much her conditioned had worsened over the last few days as Haribit and Arren had taken on the roles of her primary caregivers. She coughed again as the women, whispering, set to work.

Under Haribit's guidance, the woman undressed her and washed the sweat from her body. They dried her gently before placing fresh clothing on her. The heavy dress, made to keep out the cold weather, weighed her weak form down.

They sat her on her dressing stool, Hanna moving to cover her face in powder before Haribit swatted her hands away and turned their attention to her hair as two more young women entered the room, a heavy dress in their hands.

"Just brush her hair out, gently!" Haribit ordered as she pulled her own dress off and the two younger women helped her into the one they had brought. Isilla had never seen her friend in clothing from the Dark Realm, the taupe colored dress seemed very plain on her. Isilla stared down at her russet colored gown and wondered if she looked any better with her fever flushed face.

Dressed, Haribit took over Isilla's hair, brushing the women away. Gently she pulled the tresses into a bun.

"Is that what you meant about him?" she asked while the other women could not hear them.

Isilla nodded.

"It is as if he is a completely different person," the wonder clear in Haribit's voice. "I understand why you were so confused now. When he told me to dress you, it sounded as if you were nothing at all to him."

She finished her hair and stepped back. "Change her bedding while we're away. Leave a girl in here to have her medicine and food prepared as soon as we return."

"Looks like we'll get a new lady soon, poor thing," Greta said as she turned to the bed.

"What did you say?" Haribit asked spinning away from Isilla.

"Sorry, ma'am. It's just, the Princess is so sick," Greta said, stumbling over her words.

"How can you speak so casually?" Haribit sneered.

Isilla turned, grabbing her wrist, drawing her attention back to her.

It's fine, she signed before another round of coughs overtook her.

"It is not fine," Haribit replied handing her a handkerchief as Arren had done.

We go, she signed, keeping her words simple so Haribit could follow.

Gritting her teeth, Haribit helped her stand and holding her arm with one hand and carrying their cloaks with the other, led her from the room. Ilun perked up from the ray of light he sat in, pulling his body into a sitting position, his head tilted to the side. She stepped forward and he crossed the room to her side, lowering his body for her to ride.

"I can't," she said rubbing his head.

He whimpered and stood, keeping his body low so that she could lean on him as they crossed the room and made their way out into her halls. At the great glass doors a page waited to lead them to the carriage.

They walked slowly, so that Isilla would not be overexerted but even so, they stopped every few steps for her to catch her breath or cough into the handkerchief. They stopped before the last door, Haribit helping Isilla into her cloak, more weight on her weak body. Sweat covered her but she shivered even before they left the building into the cold air of the early winter.

The carriage waited, Arren standing next to it, his focus on the sky above until the horses began to whine and pull against their leads.

"Your pet," he said softly, his voice carried by the wind to her.

"You have to stay here, Ilun," Isilla said.

He whined and she shook her head, "Stay."

Ilun sat, his head lowered, his body shifting quickly, showing his agitation.

Haribit helped her the rest of the way to the carriage where Arren helped her into her seat. She slid across it to the window. Haribit climbed in next and sat across form her, smiling gently.

Finally Arren entered. The door shut and the horses pulled away.

"Come here," Arren said gently to Isilla.

She looked at him and shook her head.

He sighed and turned to Haribit. "I am very sorry for how I spoke with you earlier. I should have been more patient. Forgive me and please continue to speak up on your Lady's behalf, even against me."

"If you treat her like that she'll think you don't care!" Harbit exploded, clearly having held back her anger. "And is this Council meeting worth her life? You could lose your wife dragging her from bed in this condition!"

"I will lose her if I do not bring her to this meeting. This matter is one that will end my marriage to her. I do not know what is at question but I know that whatever it is, the Council has found something troubling enough to demand our presence. While we are there, I cannot show my affection for Isilla. You will help her stand when she needs to do so. Now come here, Isilla, you can rest against me."

She nodded and slid across the seat into his arms. He wrapped them around her, placing his hand over hers, sliding his fingers between her fingers. "Do not worry, my dearest. Whatever this is, no one will take you from me," he said to her, kissing the top of her head.

She closed her eyes, the small trip exhausting her, her body heavy, and slipped away.