Of Princesses and Spells...

Two

~For a princess was born, with hair as bright as gold, and eyes as bright as the stars...

The brown headed Guard sniffs up his nose at me. It’s comical because he’s more than a foot shorter than me and has a humongous mustache attached to the top of his lips.

“Who walks err?!”

Cloaked in my best coat and hood I’m almost unrecognizable. Coupled with the fact that for some reason I’ve gone and washed my thick mane of black hair.

“Azalea the Weaver, here at the request of his Majesty for the princess’ inauguration.”

His big eyes twitch as he suspiciously stares at me. “Azalea you say?”

It’s hard to stifle an eye roll. “Yea.”

Once more, he sniffs up at me and I let out a frustrated growl. “You have my formal invitation. What more, do you want?!”

And he did, of course, have my invitation. I’d handed it over the moment I’d reached the doors.

He huffs and painstakingly steps aside.

“At ease men.”

The other guards replace their weapons to their sides obediently.

I roll my eyes now, and let a little smile slip. “Lovely disguise you have there Herald.”

The tiny man puffs in a cloud of smoke. In his place stands Herald. Tall and strong in his full armor. He raises a thick dark brow at me. “It is really you.”

“You make it sound like I look as if I were a different specie entirely.”

“You might as well be. You’ve washed your hair.” He reaches out to finger a few strands of my curly long hair.

I push away his hand. “Well, I can’t exactly show up to the palace with unwashed hair now, can I?”

He huffs. “It’s nothing you haven’t done before.”

I pat his armored shoulder as I walk past. “Great job with the glamour. You didn’t fool me for a second.”

His silent curse trails after me and I smile.

Of course the other guests are anything but welcoming. I feel their eyes like claws on my back as I walk around, looking for the Grub table.

It is quite elegant in the palace. The mighty chandelier hovering over the middle of the ball room has gold I can only dream of having.

The drapes are pulled apart to reveal a glittering lake behind the glass walls. I find the food table. It is stuffed full with different food.

Picking up a bite size piece of Bubry cake I stuff it in my mouth and turn to watch the people as I savor the gooey sweetness. Perfect temperature, perfect texture and perfect taste.

The air is slightly charged with magic because there are a lot of magic welders around. I smell another Weaver. The Weaver of Audrah. Standing half a head taller than me, she somehow feels that this makes her ‘better.’

I press tighter against the food table, hoping, and praying to blend right in and be saved the pain of a conversation with her... Which is more like an oral essay on how she is ‘better’ than me.

Of course I have shitty luck because the woman quickly spots me and starts coming over.

With a small sigh of defeat I mentally ready myself.

“If it isn’t the outlawed weaver...” her voice is like an itch. You just want to slap where it’s coming from.

“Outlawed and banished for a period of time to return later, are of course, two different things. I’ve told you so a million times Esgeralda.”

Her pink eyes narrow. “Careful with that tone now, it hasn’t helped your situation any has it?”

“Thank you but I really beg to differ. My situation has a certain fixed period and so cannot change no matter what I say to you, as I’ve also told you a million times. God, all you need is one memory spell and you’d not be so forgetful.”

Her eyes narrow deeper and her fingers tint green. Light and sizzling white magik curl around her fingers. I sense that it’s more of a threat and warning than anything. As usual. “I honestly do not think, that it is of your good to speak to me that way.”

I’m not one for showing my magik or skills just for fun, but this time, I make an exemption. With a little barely noticeable tilt of my head I suck all the magik she’s released and fold it into a ball on my right palm. I use my left to snatch another bubry cake. “Perhaps you would like to think again?”

An ugly scowl splashes across her face. “How dare you?!”

“Well, I wouldn’t have this ball of magik in my palm if you hadn’t graciously provided it now, would I?” I let myself slowly smile now.

Angry and defeated, Esgeralda stalks away. Not even attempting to retrieve her magik because she is too proud. She probably still has an almost full tank, and because she is the official weaver of the kingdom she probably has people who would be willing to offer her magik. Which is truly none of my concern.

Once she is gone I let my skin absolve the magic to store for later. My bank is already full, but there’s no harm in having a little bit more.

It’s rather humorous, the fact that Esgeralda knows I can easily snatch her magic and use against her, but still keeps trying to threaten me with it. It’s the only thing that brightens me about all our encounters. The look on her face is worth every bit of the trouble before.

My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the royal horn being blown. Everyone turns to look up the golden spiral staircase. I’ve been at enough gatherings at the palace to know how this works. A short white bearded man introduces the royal family and the golden king and queen appear.

The queen is cradling a bundle and straight away I know why they’ve summoned me. The shock of it almost knocks me over. The royal family has birthed both a weaver and Witch. I also realize that it’s only me and Esgeralda that knows this because only weavers can sense other weavers. Every other magik welder here can only sense her witch side. The non magik welders such as healers and peace makers can sense the magik the child holds but can not specify what she is or what it means.

Everyone solemnly claps as they slowly descend the golden stairs. Two witches walk behind them, their magik forming a shield and barrier to protect the royal family.