The Vampire King's Mortal Mate

No Time To Cry

"Hurry up girls", Cilia urged. They had spent too much time here already but most of the fault was hers as she had not been too eager to wake Leah. The poor girl hadn't gotten good sleep for some nights now as a result of her recurring nightmares, so when she had entered the room with the maids who would dress her daughter and found her fast asleep, she had insisted that they let her sleep.

Cilia was thankful that she had slept for a short while at least, before the demons that haunted her sleep bared their claws once more. She wrapped her arms around her body, deeply concerned about her daughter and her nightmares.

She looked over to where Leah and the maids stood, they were drying her off now. The room was filled with the fragrance of lavendar and perfumed oils. Cilia would have it no other way, Leah was the only daughter her womb had been able to give Hogan and she would spare no expense in having her look the part.

" Mother, you would keep me in suspense till the very last minute?", Leah asked. She wanted to see the dress she'd be wearing to the feast. Her mother, Cilia had become somewhat famous for always dressing her daughter in the rarest and most luxurious outfits whenever there was an occasion that warranted it, a trend which greatly pleased Hogan as he would never pass up an opportunity to show his daughter off.

"Has my taste in fashion ever disappointed you my girl?", Cilia asked, walking towards her daughter and taking her hand. It was almost customary for the princess at this point, that after she had taken her bath, the maids stood back while her mother, the queen oiled and braided her hair. There were two stools at a corner of her room which were reserved exclusively for this purpose.

Cilia led her daughter over to the corner of the room where the stools were placed. The two stools were unequal in height, with Leah's a bit lower to allow Cilia manipulate her daughter's full head of beautiful red hair. Cilia led Leah to the lower stool and held her hand till she had taken her seat.

"Fetch me the oils Guinevere ", she commanded, turning towards the maids as she spoke. The maid whom the queen had spoken her name scampered hurriedly to the opposite end of the room and stood on her toes to open a particularly large cabinet and quickly scanning through it's contents, retrieved two large bottles.

The queen held out her receiving arm as she waited, signalling the maid to move as quickly as she could. The maid understood all too well the queen's lack of patience and hastened accordingly. Guinevere had come up the ranks at the castle; from a lowly kitchen maid, she was now the chief maid and answered directly to the princess and her mother, the queen.

One of the many casualties of the blood wars, she had been orphaned at quite the young age of 10 and seeing the spirit in her, the queen had taken her into the castle and given her a position to fend for herself.

As was the culture in Malfrost, nobody was given any free gifts or handouts. You were either provided for by your parents or you worked hard for your daily bread. This ensured an inculcation of discipline into the very fabric of Malfrost's society. She had embraced the opportunity given to her by the queen with both hands and had since worked her way up the heirachy of servants at the castle.

She collected the bottles and walked towards the queen and when she had gotten close enough, she placed one of them in the queen's hands. The queen collected the bottle with both hands and uncorked the bottle, a beautiful fragrance of rich sandalwood was let out into the room as she did. She poured an amount of it into her palm and set down the bottle on the ground.

Guinevere signalled another maid to come and pick it up and aid her in pouring whatever amounts the queen would need onto her palm. This earned a look of appreciation from the queen, she had grown to trust Guinevere with increasingly sensitive tasks and so far, she had adjusted competently to them.

Cilia rubbed her hands together to distribute the oil evenly before proceeding to rub it into Leah's scalp.

"I haven't heard you talk about Hardyn recently Guinevere", Leah said, closing her eyes as she let the pleasurable sensations of her mothers hands on her scalp take hold. Guinevere smiled shyly and looked at the floor in a bid to avoid the queen's gaze which was now turned to her, interested in the answer to the question which her daughter had asked.

" Well, he's away on a trip and even though he's gone for some very profitable business, I can't help but miss him", explained Guinevere, finally caving in to the queen's searching gaze. Leah smiled at Guinevere's response, aware that her mother's silent persuasion had won yet again.

"I hear Rodric will be at the feast tonight, Leah", Cilia said, interjecting before Leah had a chance to continue the conversation with Guinevere. The mood immediately went from a happy one to a somewhat dull one. Guinevere automatically focused on discharging her oil pouring duties as this was obviously a conversation to be had between mother and daughter and she wouldn't risk the queen's wrath by interfering.

" Oh mother", Leah lamented.

She had since opened her eyes, the sensation of her mother massaging the perfumed oils into her hair had become discomforting at the mention of Rodric's name. Her parents had been trying to get her or rather force her to develop an interest in the Duke of Olta's son. Olta was one of the most important commercial cities in all of the north and the taxes and revenue generated from this city among others kept Malfrost as powerful as ever.

Hogan had realised the need to keep Elias, Duke of Olta as close as he could and had reasoned that a marriage between their children will further strengthen the ties between them. Leah hadn't been impressed by the suggestion, she still wasn't.

Rodric was a gentleman by all standards and quite attractive to many young maidens who were Leah's age but he didn't quite have the spark required to catch Leah's eye and she felt quite bored whenever she was in his company. She had no dreams of becoming a quiet wife with nothing to do but submit to the whims and caprices of an overly entitled husband. Her very nature kicked against it.

Then again, was the undiscussed issue of the man in her dreams, for whom her body and soul called out for. A part of her insisted on holding out, on waiting for him to claim her.

Cilia had raised this conversation countless times with her daughter and so far, all her attempts to make her see reasons to give the young earl a chance at proving that he was worth her affection had proved abortive. She dropped her hands in submission as she had coincidentally finished oiling Leah's hair as well.

She signalled for a towel and it was readily handed to her. She had all the maids in the room waiting on her now, they were used to performing this chore and knew all that the high queen needed.

"I certainly wish you weren't so stubborn Leah", Cilia complained with frustration etched on her face. Her daughter looked more like her than she was comfortable with and she knew better than to force her to do something against her will. She had resumed working on Leah's hair, only this time she was making the hair into a large, single braid.

Her hands moved expertly, weaving and twisting the hair into a neat and presentable braid. She had given specific instructions to the maids on what ornaments would be hung on the hair and she had to ensure the braid was properly done.

The stools were strategically placed close to the biggest window in the room, looking out towards the castle courtyard, this allowed ample light and ventilation into the room giving Cilia the perfect workspace she needed.

When she was done, the braid hung beautifully down her daughter's back, shining radiantly as it had been properly oiled.

Leah had been looking fixedly out the window while her mother worked on her hair, peering curiously at the many carriages that made their way into the Castle premises. She was aware that there was going to be a feast, but this number of carriages didn't normally come unless there was a much grander occasion that called for it.

"I've laid out your dress my dear, go now, the maids will help you get into it", Cilia instructed tapping Leah lightly on her shoulder as she spoke. Leah rose from the stool obediently as her mother spoke and stole a look at her braids at the large mirror that stood at a corner of her room. Her mother never failed to impress. She loved the sweet scents of the oils which her mother always used for her hair and catching the scent periodically as she moved her head from side to side was delightful to say the least.

She walked towards her inner chambers and the maids followed her dutifully led by Guinevere who had since replaced the oil bottles used for oiling the princess's hair. Leah shed her clothes as soon as she had gotten into the inner chambers and walked to stand in front of yet another large mirror. Her maids had divided the tasks that would collectively lead to her being properly dressed for the feast.

They scurried around, picking up articles of clothing and ornaments for dressing the princess. Guinevere stood with the princess, waiting for all and sundry to present what they had been tasked with fetching.

Cilia occupied herself with looking out of the window while Leah got ready.

"Mother, there a lot more people arriving for the feast than I expected and they seem to be a lot of important people. Is something else happening tonight?", Leah asked curiously.

" Yes indeed, child. The brotherhood of the northern shield will be present at the feast tonight.", explained Cilia.

"The brotherhood?"

"I thought they were a myth, a bedtime story to scare hapless children", Leah scoffed.

" They are very real Leah and our only defense against the creatures that inhabit the lands across the Marug", Corrected Leah in a very serious voice.

The faces of the maids and everyone in the room had darkened following the mention of the cursed lands. Everyone in the room had lost a loved one to the blood wars and knew first hand, the darkness that dwelt across the Marug River.

"Hurry Guinevere, we must present ourselves at court to welcome our guests", called Cilia as she tore her gaze from the horizon. Today's excitement wasn't going to be dulled by the painful memories of the past.