Responsibility Ch. 14

It was a fine trade. Rahela soon had a long string of freshwater pearls with a cluster of golden beads as a pendant. Using both hands, Rahela put the gold beads to her lips and gave them a closed kiss. "It's an exquisite necklace. I'll return it to you soon. How many days would you prefer, Madam?"

"Three," the Empress Dowager said. "I'll hand you another piece to borrow once you return the pearls."

Rahela kissed the cluster pendant once more.

***

The snow was melting away.

Rahela was glad to see it.

On this particular morning, Rahela and company had to wear pattens to keep out of the wet, melting snow that was oozing over the roads and pathways. Once they were at the paddock, they found one of the stable workers playing with Ureche, Rahela's favored pet. She'd seen that man a few times before, but she'd never thought much of him. He seemed to have just reached adulthood. There was still a hint of sprightliness in his brown eyes. He had short, pale red hair and freckles all over his face.

In the middle of a gentle teasing game with the mule, involving a bundle of long grass in his hand, the young man was able to stop and bow. Ureche didn't care about that. She bent down to snatch the grass out of his grasp and happily chewed on her prize. Gabi giggled once she saw it.

Rahela said to the young man, "It's lovely to know my dear Ureche has her own entertainment. Thank you for being so patient with her."

His chest swelling, the young man said, "Thank you, Your Highness."

As a team of horses was being gathered for Rahela's girls and Ammas, Rahela asked the young man, "What's your name?"

"Ah, I'm Ganbold Hudma," the man said right before he started walking. "I'll fetch the tack for your fine mule, Your Highness."

Some time later, all the horses, and Ureche, all had their tack and were ready to go.

Rahela petted one of Ureche's happy little ears, and she said to Ganbold Hudma, "I'll send a messenger to the kitchens. You should have an extra honey pastry and one more bowl of milk and berries gruel." Once she was mounted and comfortable in her saddle, her skirts carefully spread out and hiding her legs, she said, "My mule's playmate should never want for sweet nor filling food."

During the short ride on the roads, Ammas kept his horse closest to Rahela's mule. It didn't take long for him to suddenly ask, "Your Highness, do you always keep your knife on your belt?" He definitely surprised her.

"Not always," Rahelas said, "but I do keep my knife often."

His gloves creaking with his fingers, Ammas said, "You should always have that knife nearby."

"I must sleep eventually," Rahela countered with a sigh, "but I understand you well enough. Everyone has enemies." One of her hands moved up to adjust a brooch on her cloak. It was a piece the Empress Dowager had let her borrow. She'd been regularly picking out things for Rahela to wear, just as she'd said she would.

"And might I ask," Ammas said as his eyes seemed to point to her face for only a moment, "why don't you choose from the Empress Dowager's collection? You're always wearing something she picks."

"Such an unexpected question from a common man," Rahela said with a nod, "but it's a thoughtful one. Why wouldn't I choose, since I'm the one meant to wear the pieces?" She shrugged. "It's simple. The Empress Dowager is the owner. She should decide which pieces she'd put the risk of loss to. She's also the one with the finest tastes, particularly according to Yahsin standards."

Ammas snorted a bit. "Ah, my Mistress isn't a fool. It matters not what people whisper."

"Oh? I've heard of so many whispers. Have any new ones sprouted without my notice?" Rahela had been trying to keep all available ears open.

"Rahela the Foolish has been laid down beside Rahela the Rude," the man said.

Rahela rubbed her nose with her fingers. "I'm curious as to what the next adjective will be. Coarse? Uncaring?"

"Isn't my Mistress bothered?" Ammas asked with a hint of distaste.

"One doesn't need to state it." Rahela sighed. "I'm very bothered."

***

A few days later, Rahela was on her way to return the brooch. She gave her brain room to wonder what the next piece of jewelry would be.

Just when she and her retinue were at the entrance to the Empress Dowager's bedchamber, they heard a sharp cry of frustration, and then sobbing. One of the guards knocked on the door and asked if everything was well. A girl, probably a chambermaid, said through the wood that nobody was in any danger. Rahela and company were allowed inside with no resistance.

The found the Empress Dowager kneeling over a desk, where there were a few scrolls. One of her ladies-in-waiting was trying to mollify her, but she wasn't having any success. The Empress Dowager had her arms on the desk's tabletop and her face on her arms. Her sobs were muffled, but they still hurt the ears.

Rahela cringed twice as she approached. "Your Majesty," she said, "what's become of you?"

Since the older woman didn't answer right away, the lady-in-waiting said, "Her Majesty's vision is too blurred. She can't read anymore. She's also been more fatigued lately."

Unpinning the brooch she had, Rahela said, "That's so horrible." She got the older woman's attention by putting the brooch on the desk, the solid noise of metal against wood distracting her from her crying. Her eyes, cheeks, and nose were red, and there were even a few wrinkles, although they weren't very deep.

"Your Majesty," Rahela said, "your face seems so irritated and weak. You should use activated charcoal soap."

Bleary with her dazed blinking, the Empress Dowager managed to say, "Ah?"

Rahela went on, "Activated charcoal. I know you must be aware of such a useful ingredient, but you're in such a flustered state. Your forgetfulness is understandable." As if she was a teacher trying to gain a child's attention, Rahela held up an index finger. "Activated charcoal is so incredibly effective. You should rely on it."

Seeming to regain her wits, the Empress Dowager turned away and dabbed her eyes with her sleeve. She even sniffed. "You think I should use activated charcoal?"

"It's one of the greatest things in this world," Rahela said. "Now, Your Majesty, would you please be so kind as to lend me one of your lovely pieces of jewelry?"

***

Perhaps a few weeks later, the Empress Dowager had hidden herself in her bedchamber. The only visitor she'd allow was her favorite, Batu Markov. She still had her chambermaids and girl attendants, but those didn't count as visitors.

If this continued long enough, then Princess Tuya would be the one the sit on the throne for the Imperial Court.

Rahela had spent some time paying more attention to gossip. Yes, she was still the silly child or the mad oddity in most people's eyes. Even the lowest servants would say such a thing. The most beloved topic, however, was the Empress Dowager. What was wrong with her? Why would she suddenly cloister herself? Someone must have frightened or angered her. But who?

Who could it be if not ...

It happened early one morning.

Many armed men burst into Rahela's bedchamber, right after breakfast too. The girls all screamed when it happened. Ammas, who had arrived just when breakfast was served, got up and demanded an explanation.

"Princess Rahela is under arrest," one of the men curtly said.

All Rahela did was tell Ammas to look after her little sister and her ladies-in-waiting. When she was taken by her arms, she didn't resist. She quietly walked with them.

All the way.

The long way.

To the Loveless Tower.

The highest cell there.

It was cold there.

Rahela hated it. The room was small. The straw on the floor reeked and were full of insects. The bench she sat on was small and moldy. There was a plain chamber pot in a corner of the room. A miserable little window that she couldn't reach made her think of a sad eye gazing down at her with sympathy.

Holding her cloak close to herself, Rahela stood up and started pacing as much as the little space could allow. In little time, she was in a circular path. A bit of sunlight would always touch her whenever she went through the spot the sunlight could reach.

Despite the recent meal, her stomach felt empty and raw, like a tree after a bear had scratched at it. Keeping her heart calm was a mighty effort. She wanted to run over to the bars and screech.

The food she was given was ... not what she'd ever thought she'd eat. A stale roll of brown bread that hardly filled up her palm. A weak broth that was so watery and so tasteless that Rahela had to wonder if any meat or bones had been involved in its creation at all. And a handful of cheese crumbs that might've been the leavings of someone else's meal. At least the water they gave her to drink was clean enough.

That was all she was given.

Once a day, or once most days.

And she was certainly kept in that cell for more than one day.

***