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Moniker: @rose-colored-fancy
Book title: Gilded Blood (Man, that title is so cool!!) Book 1 of the Unnamed Series. XD

Chapter 2, Scene 1

Audio Link: Book 1, Chapter 2, Scene 1

Duration: 8:37

Text: 1490 words

Liorah

My best friend, Sahar, bounced with excitement, her skirt rippling around her ankles. She spun in a graceful dance step, enjoying the swish of the fabric.

The sunny yellow of her blouse complimented her dark brown skin and she wore jewelry like Mother wore decorum, plentifully and with careless grace. The flashing bangles, sparkling earrings, jingling anklets and bright colors would have overwhelmed me, but they looked perfect on her.

I straightened my kolye, the golden chain on my forehead that marked my rank. I hadn’t bothered with my few pieces of jewelry but if I didn’t wear this, Mother and Uncle might forget I was a part of the royal family too. Sahar wore hers, the violet glass bangle on a copper chain marking her as an Orme without the weight of a rank.

I tugged at my dress so the white outer dress didn’t get caught in the sash. I felt prim and gawky in the formal clothes, like the yearling foals that seemed in constant danger of tripping over their own too-long legs. Even the wide sash and full skirt of my white outer dress couldn’t create the illusion of a figure. The blue embroidery on the outer dress made my shoulders look ungracefully broad. Not that it mattered.

Sahar giggled as she looked down at her billowing purple skirts and the jingle of the embroidered sash encircling her waist. It accentuated her full curves in a most becoming way. She was having the time of her life and I couldn’t help but smile.

Even if this evening was going to be several hours of being forgotten more blatantly than usual, Sahar was here and she was having a good time.

My heavy braid slid off my shoulder, trailing down to my hips. I examined it to make sure the ribbon that held it together hadn’t come undone already.

I had asked Sahar to help me with my hair but refused her suggestion that I wear it up.

“You know it always gives me a headache if I wear it up for long and I’ll end up taking it down in ten minutes. My hair will look like a lion’s mane and I don’t think Mother will approve.”

Sahar had laughed and then helped me with a fancier braid than usual. The three narrow braids merged into one thick one, which was formal enough but still comfortable.

I scowled at a copper mirror, trying to see if my makeup looked right. At least that looked nice, I had a fairly steady hand and the kohl around my golden eyes was symmetrical.

Sahar spun to a stop, still giggling as she dizzily tried to regain her balance. Her inky curls bounced around her shoulders and a gleaming knife thudded to the ground next to her bare feet.

I couldn’t help grinning. Despite her bright sweetness, Sahar was not a prim young lady.

“Do I want to know?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at the knife. I wasn’t surprised, she usually had at least two throwing knives with her. I had thought she’d leave them today, but apparently not.

Sahar smiled even brighter.

“You should see how well it works! When I get cornered in a boring conversation, I just do this.”

She picked up the dagger and flipped it around in her hand with practiced dexterity. Her kohl-lined eyes widened and she tilted her head as though listening to someone making an astonished remark.

“Oh, these? I can hit someone in the heart from fifty paces. Would you like to see?” She told the invisible bystander, innocently.

I laughed.

“Does it work?”

Sahar raised her full skirts and slipped the dagger back into the scabbard strapped to the outside of her knee.

“Every time. With those Gitakan boys especially. They’re sissies when it comes to lethal weapons,” Sahar said, cheerfully.

“Acyn too?” I teased.

Sahar shook her head vehemently, her curls bouncing in every direction.

“Of course not,” she said, as though it was ridiculous to even think such a thing. “I tried it on him once, just for fun, and he went on a tangent about how the weight of the knife was of as much importance as the cutting edge and how to calculate the arc and angle based on weight and so on.”

“Li’ah? How have you two spent an hour getting ready?” Gavril’s voice came from the other side of the tent.

“You can’t rush perfection,” Sahar said, fluffing her curls and grinning in the direction of the curtain that divided the tent in two.

“It doesn’t matter how nice you look if you’re late,” Gavril countered.

“Says who?” Sahar retorted, as though the thought was absurd.

I giggled and pushed aside the curtain. Gavril fumbled with the strap of the bejeweled shamshir that had been Father’s. It was only worn on festive occasions, and it had been passed down through generation after generation of kings. The gold shimmered in the light from the oil lamp and the sapphires cast flecks of blue light on the ground.

He looked up, but went back to fiddling with the buckle immediately.

“I know, we’re breathtaking,” Sahar teased.

“If you say so,” Gavril said, absently. He hadn’t even noticed. He was more preoccupied than I’d expected. He was usually so composed.

Sahar skipped outside, her skirt billowing behind her.

I lingered.

“What’s wrong, Gav?”

It was a stupid question, I knew exactly what was wrong, but I wanted him to talk about it, if that would help.

Goodness knew, Mother and Uncle weren’t approachable.

He raked his hand through his hair, then straightened the loose sleeves of his coat again, for what might have been the hundredth time. The pattern of beaded pomegranates and golden vines twined across the deep red wool.

“I can’t do it. I’m not ready, and I’ll never be ready,” he said, his voice tight.

I couldn’t suppress a smile. If Gavril wasn’t, who was?

“No one’s expecting you to fix everything by yourself,” I said, trying not to sound sarcastic.

He finally stopped fiddling with his shamshir. His hands were trembling.

“I’ll make some irreversible mistake, or something will come up. One of the elders might try to usurp, there might be another spat with the Kezbes. I can’t handle that, I wouldn’t even know where to begin,”

“That won’t happen all at once, and I’m sure you can manage one at a time,” I said, “Besides, Uncle’s still here, and so are the ten elders. Despite your best efforts, even you couldn’t ruin the whole tribe.”

“Are you helping or making fun of me?” Gavril asked, a smile finally breaking through

“Both,” I said, cheerfully. “What could go wrong?”

I counted on my fingers,

“Stay on the horse, don’t get horse snot on your cloak, don’t trip over your sword, actually, don’t trip, period. And don’t stand staring at Nebiah the entire time, even though I’m sure she’ll look magnificent,” I paused. “Actually, there’s a lot that could go wrong. Can’t wait to see how much of it you can mess up, it’ll be hilarious and I’ll make sure you never hear the end of it.”

“You little pest,” Gavril said, affectionately.

I grinned, then pulled him into a hug. I felt the tension seep out of him. He would be a good king. Even his worries about failing confirmed it. He cared, like Father had.

“You ruined my makeup,” I said, swiping at my eyes dramatically

Gavril grinned.

“Serves you right.”

“Did you remember to get Kinneret ready?” Mother asked, entering the tent.

Every fold of her pink dress was exactly where it should be. The three golden chains on her forehead dropped to the shimmering sapphire. I had only one chain, as I was neither married nor widowed.

Gavril instantly stiffened again and I drew away.

“Yes, I saddled her.”

“Now let’s hope you didn’t put anything on backward like that one time—” I started,

Gavril shot me a glare that said I wasn’t helping and I grinned. I dearly liked annoying Gavril.

Mother gave me a cursory glance that almost cut me in its sharpness. I straightened my shoulders, expecting some remark about the wrinkles in my dress or how the embroidery around the neckline was slightly crooked.

“You look nice, dear,” Her face softened into a smile.

“Thanks, I suppose,” I stammered, taken by surprise. I couldn’t remember the last time she’d complimented me. Not that I’d been striving for it, why would I care?

Mother twitched an eyebrow.

“A princess does not end her sentences with I suppose. She either intends the remark, or she does not say it in the first place.”

I relaxed. This I could handle.

“You’re right, I suppose,” I said, tossing my braid over my shoulder and flouncing out of the tent into the soft twilight.

As I turned the corner, I heard Mother sigh and Gavril snicker.

~~~~~~

Yeah, welcome to Liorah’s dysfunctional family! XD

I think I might have started this scene too early. This entire first part feels a bit boring to me.

Also, please excuse my monotone reading in the beginning, it took a while to get back into it XD

@this-is-not-an-alien

@devastate-lasting

@bclarke

@joelle-stone