The blind priestess

High priestess Qora runs a comb through my hair rhythmically. “You have beautiful hair...” “I do not want to go.” I say. I am sat on a wooden stool, getting dressed to leave the home I have forever know in the temple, and become the wife of the High King. I am adorned in a billowy green gown, as Qora has said, and pearls hand around my neck and ears. This is the most I have dressed in my entire life. A day before, I’d had no care in the world. All I was worried about was how to keep mice out of the storage room. Next thing I know, a secret messenger is sent to the Temple and I am ordered to be brought to the Palace of the high King, as his queen. High priestess Qora’s hands pauses over my head. “You have no choice.” I swallow. There is a huge lump in my throat that won’t go away. “But I am a priestess. I do not want to get married. I want to live here, with you.” A single tear slides down my left cheek and I reach to wipe it off. “And besides, I know not a single thing of being queen. All I know how to do is burn incense and work here.” Her warm palms slide onto my shoulder and brings my head back against her stomach as I sit. “This is your destiny, Hallow. Being the King’s wife is a privilege... of course I do not want you to go... but it is destiny.” I do not believe her. It cannot possibly be destiny. I sniffle and more tears drip down my face. “I do not want to go... I do not want to be a queen!!” My body is suddenly racked with sobs. I fold into myself as I cry. “Why must I?! Do I have no choice over my own life?!” Even I know the answer. No, I do not. This causes me to sob even harder. “Do not cry Chika. It will all be for the best.” All of a sudden she walks to my front and kneels in front of me. “Do not let him take advantage of you my love. He might be the king, but you are no common w***e. You are a priestess of the great Grion. Do you hear me?” I sniffle and try to hold back my sobs. “Yes...” Her fingers graze my cheeks. “Good. Now stop crying and let me finish making you up. You are going to the throne like a queen.” With that, she stands and walks back behind me. The swish of her robes against the marble floor is loud in the empty temple inner room. I, Hallow Corin do not want to marry Creon King, King of all the five nations of Gordin. But I have no choice. The carriage comes to a stop after about five hours of journey and I know that we have arrived. My doom is here. Once I walk into this palace, my life is longer my own. Qora reaches over and curls her fingers with mine. “You are queen.” I know she means to encourage me, but instead I feel like melting into the cushioned seats. I never expected my life to become like this. I’ve always assumed I’d stay a priestess till my death. Now my fate has been changed, and I have no choice. The door is pulled open and Qora helps me down carefully. I take a moment to feel the ground and tap my cane around me. After this, Qora grabs onto my elbow and leads me forward. I might be blind, but this has made my other senses stronger. I can sense how many people are around, a load of guards and magical creatures, and I can sense that the hallways is wide and spacious. We walk down a straight path then take a sudden right curve. A guard walks to me. “We are about to go up Your Priestess.” Qora grips me harder. “Make it as quick and painless as possible.” With that, the guard’s cool hand grips my other arm and before I know it, I’m swayed off my feet and vomit shoots up my throat. The world seems to sway around me and I can barely stand straight. Everything feels unsteady and I stumble a bit. The guard’s cool arm holds me Straight and up. “Sorry.” His voice is gruff. After a few moments, I finally feel somewhat normal. The floor is finally firm again and my stomach has settled. That was him magicking me into the actual palace. It is a way of keeping intruders out. No one but those given the power by the King’s personal magician can access the inside of the palace. Slowly, I let out a soft breathe and reach out to hold Qora. I feel only air. Qora isn’t here. Immediately, panic shoots down my spine. “Where is Head Priestess Qora?!” “She has not been granted audience by the king and therefore cannot be allowed entrance.” He plainly states. I try to swallow down the panic and sudden loneliness I feel. I need her, but I am no one to ask. No one but the King can grant her access. I take a deep breathe. I am a priestess. I am collected. I am calm and composed. Qora would want me to be strong. To be brave. I might not have any power over what happens to me, but the least I can do is go into it with dignity, and not bring shame to my superior. “Are you ready?” The guard asks. He sounds impossibly impatient. I nod as dignified as I can and reach my elbow out to him. “Carry on.” He grabs my elbow and leads me down a carpeted pathway. I beat my cane in front of me and count the steps as we walk. When we reach fifty I loose count. All I can gather is that the hallway is almost empty save for a few -probably servants, loitering around and carrying fresh laundry. After sometime, we take a sharp turn and walk up a flight of stairs. With each step my throat closes up the more and my insides tremble. I cannot believe that I am meeting the King. King of all five kingdoms of Gordin. I am only a junior priestess for the kingdom of Edin, I have no clue or idea what has made the High King pick me for a bride. I know little to nothing of him and have only heard tales of him. Of how he is so powerful that his specie is non identifiable, and of his great power and strength in war. No one has been able to successfully attack any of the kingdoms during his reign and conspirators have been publicly executed in the five kingdoms. The guard slows to a stop and knocks on a door. He knocks four times, a pause, and then five. The door opens. I tuck my chin in and let him guide me forward. I am able to sense that the room is wide, that there are at least four people in the room, and that this is the throne room. The aura of the King is very very strong. I can sense him from the moment I step in. I can also smell him. He smells of power. That is the only description I can give. Suddenly, the guard disappears from my side and I am left standing alone. At first panic makes me gasp and sway a little, but then I plant my feet more firmly onto the ground and swallow. I am not ready to meet the King. But I have no choice. So, I fall to my knees, bow my head and press my palm to my chest. “Your Royal Highness.”