The wizard kings stolen wife

A new beginning

She struggled to keep up with him as he strode though the wide corridors of the villa. His determined strides outpaced her shorter legs and her feet pattered on the tile as she hurried along behind him. Her eyes did not stay still as she took in as much as she could as they passed. Light stone walls were lit with clean burning sconces, and wide open windows out into an interior courtyard filled with lush foliage. They had passed a few doors before finally he stopped by a set, and threw the doors open wide.  

A small shriek came from one of the two maids that were inside arranging the room. Noting the dust in the curtains and damp shine on the shelves it seemed like the room had been hurriedly prepared.  

“Come on out you go now,” Tristan said to the spooked girls. The darker haired one hurried tided up the remaining loose sheets on the bed while stealing covert glances at Melia. The other taller, younger girl had turn as white a the pillow she held, and her eyes flicked with horror between Tristan and Melia hovering in the shadows behind him.  

“Yes milord,” said the dark-haired girl, yanking at the hand of her still gaping friend. “Did you want-” she started but the wizard cut her off. 

“If I wanted, I would have asked. Out.” The wizard sad icily. The glare she gave the floor as she passed Melia by would have scorched its way to the center of the earth. Her friend seemed like she ran from the room in relief. Melia couldn’t help but follow her eyes to the direction hey took down the corridor, before stepping further into the room.  

“Here are your rooms, come on in.” He said gesturing her past him. It was a simple room but detailed lavishly. A wall of bookcases lined one side, with a small table posed with chairs. A bed was pushed to the other wall, its random positioning made her pause for a moment and its slightly mussed covers showed it had been hastily made. She wandered over and gently smoothed a crease on the silken coverlet.  

“This isn’t a guest room” She said softly, unsure of what was allowed in this new world.  

“Are you a guest?” Asked the wizard, his eyes amused. “Through that door there is a bath drawn for you. Later you can join me for dinner and we will talk”  

His voice softened for a moment, “take your time”, then he ruined it by scrunching his nose “Really” Then he shut the door behind him, she waited a moment then heard the characteristic clunk of a lock closing on the other side of the door. 

She looked down at herself, she was coated in dust from the road and her hair was lank with sweat and grime from the last two weeks spent in the slave line. A piece of her heart soared when she opened the wooden door into a tiled room filled with soft swirls of steam. She had not seen a room like it, it was tiled floor to ceiling, inlaid were tiles that shone like gold or amethyst. Her eyes swirled around, one side was a half wall, open to the lush green courtyard, and centered on the other was a glittering floor to ceiling mirror. She breathed a gasp at the sight of herself displayed in all its horrifying clarity.  

She looked like filth, her tanned skin mottled with road dust, her skin heavy and shiny with sweat and her hair lost in a messy braid. But under that filth of the last few weeks the girl underneath looked worn. Her dark brown eyes loomed large in her skinny face, gaunt from too many meals skipped. Her lips overlarge, her cheeks sunken, and her collarbones in sharp relief against her chest.  

The dress she wore was not much better. It had once been a reasonably smart housemaids dress, usually covered with apron and overdress. But she had lost both and now the worn shift was tattered and thin, pressing against her skin. Her thighs and hips seemed too visible and she hated how the fabric tattered hem fell short. Even so it felt wrong as she stripped off the ragged layer in this opulent space.  

Hurriedly she stepped into the steaming water. Her tied muscles breathed out as she sunk deep breathing in the steamy lavender smell. Hurriedly she scrubbed at her skin with the soap laid neatly beside. She dragged her hands through her hair, the foaming soap feeling amazing on her scalp. I had been years since she had had a warm bath like this, and usually it had been shared, one after the other with the other household girls. But this felt like being in a cloud. She lay her head back, hair floating about like dark tentacles. 

She noted the sky was visible, the open wall to the courtyard flowed to an open ceiling, half covered with a wrought iron trellis. Sitting on the edge of it, a magpie. She sat up water screening down her body, still staring at the bird. The bird was still, but squawked as she stared at her.  

“How do they keep this clean, open to the air with birds around.” She wondered out loud. She looked about the room and it dawned on her, that there were no other clothes for her to wear. She groaned as she pulled her-self from the water then knelt back down by the bath to wash her hated, tattered, dress in the cooling water. The warm air raised hairs on her damp skin. Once the dress was as close to white as it would ever be she pressed it dry between some of the soft white towels before scrubbing her own skin. Its wetness clung to her freshly cleaned skin, wrapping her in the smell of lavender and mint. She toweled at her hair, and combed it out. Ready to face the world.