Responsibility Ch. 15

Out of respect, since her breath was unpleasant, Rahela rinsed her mouth out a few times. Then the girls helped her floss and brush her teeth. They wouldn't normally do that, but honestly Rahela knew that a few minutes in and her arms would give out.

Finally, she was put in a true bath and served good food. It wasn't much food at all, but Rahela let herself break for only a moment when she saw it. She cried. Tears fell all over.

A slice of bread with nuts in the crumb. A little bowl of chopped vegetables in broth. And a cup of mild wine. That was all. Not much.

She savored every time her tongue came in contact with the deliciousness.

Once her belly was full, and her skin was properly soaked, the chambermaids helped her out and dried her off. Then they finally washed her hair, deciding to let the air dry it.

A layer of ointment was spread all over her body and face. Their jar only had a few pinches of the stuff left when they were done. Then she was put in a fresh outfit, her damp hair flowing over her back and partially over a shoulder.

Rahela told Gabi to go with her to the balcony and talk. Literally talk. They'd sit on chairs and look out at the sky, the beautiful sky, and Gabi would talk to her. Rahela thought she needed to hear that.

She was so damn happy to not be in that cell anymore.

Her eyes were more eager to accept the sunlight. For the first time in a long while, her skin was soothed by clean air. She appreciated even the clouds that were slowly graying and filling up the sky, taking away some the sunlight she'd craved.

When she heard Ammas' heavy feet against the balcony's floor, Rahela's head lowered and her lips pouted as she realized she should've never felt distressed over her imprisonment. She hadn't stayed long. Ammas had been locked away for two years, and many people had been kept longer than that! Rahela had been treated mildly in comparison.

Yet suddenly, Ammas interrupted Gabi's earnest chatter by saying, "This was a disgrace. You shouldn't have been put in a cell, and it's obvious you were neglected there. I've never had as many parasites as you had. Did they ever change the straw? And you're unusually thin. Did they give you food? Did they give it to you every day?"

Rahela had to cough. A chambermaid hurried to get a cup of water for her. "Ammas," Rahela said, "there was one guard who was kind to me. He should be rewarded."

"Please describe him, and give his name," Ammas said. "I'll send someone to carry out your wishes."

Once she gave her description, Rahela said she wanted to give him rewards. One of her golden fillets for him to sell off, one of her expensive gowns for him to do the same with, and an extra bowl of fish gruel with a honey pastry placed with all of his meals for a month.

Some more time passed where Gabi kept talking to Rahela. Both of them had a pitcher of water with cups for whenever they needed a sip. Sometimes, Ammas would dare to step a bit closer than he normally would, as if he thought he might be needed, but then he'd step right back to his previous spot.

Eventually, Rahela told Gabi to hush a moment and she said to Ammas, "Shouldn't you dismiss any sorrow I might have? Isn't it a fragment, or perhaps nothing, when compared to yours?"

Bowing his head, his arms stiffly at his sides, Ammas told her, "Yes, the hardship placed against me lasted much longer, but that doesn't nullify your hardship. Your body and mind is very delicate. You must be cared for."

Rahela sighed.

For a while, she forgot to listen to Gabi. Her brain was already working harder than it could probably handle.

The now dead Batu Markov was the son of a certain duke with significant amounts of land. She wondered how many of the nobles have secret or even open alliances with that duke. Now that his son had been killed, would that be another reason for such a great amount of dislike towards her? Would she be suspected of somehow coordinate the whole affair, framing Batu Markov? Could some people even believe she convinced the Empress Dowager to distrust that favorite of hers?

Perhaps it didn't even matter if Rahela had framed Batu Markov or not. Simply moving against him, even accidentally, might've been enough to earn more enemies. Sadly, many people didn't care about justice. Many people only cared about whatever benefited themselves.

Later, she went to one of her chests of fabric. From inside, she pulled out the handkerchief the Emperor had told her to keep. Beforehand, she had a suspicion that she might be imprisoned, and she didn't want to have the handkerchief on her person during that time. Who knows what would've happened to it?

And Rahela wondered ...

Hadn't His Majesty assumed that most wouldn't approve of her?

Why did he want to marry her in the first place?

***

Although Rahela's meals were strictly small, the ingredients were still what she needed. Little portions of meat, herbs and spices, all available types of fruits and vegetables, flavored water, sips of alcohol, and a variety of cheeses. The strategy for leading her to a normal diet was meant to be a slow one. Bit by bit, day by day, a little more food was added. It seemed that her strength returned at the same rate.

When Rahela's body was strong enough for brisk exercise, she chose to have longer walks outside. Even if she didn't receive any benefits, her ladies and maid-in-waiting certainly would.

It was as it usually was. Only the Empress Dowager and Princess Tuya were openly friendly with her. Anyone else would give a gesture of respect and then move on. That was fair. Rahela knew she wasn't friendly anyway, and many of those people probably disliked her. There was no reason to be surprised.

Early one morning, she was asked by Princess Tuya to visit her after breakfast. Rahela and company obeyed, meeting Princess Tuya in her weaving room. With swift yet vigilant fingers, that princess worked at one of her looms. She was making a small tapestry with many colors.

"Come, come!" The princess' eyes didn't leave her work. "Come see this piece. Do you like it?"

"The colors are vibrant," Rahela said as she moved in just close enough, "but I'm afraid I don't know what they represent."

"It's meant to be geometric," Princess Tuya told her. "I'll give it to you once it's done." Her fingers stilled as she turned her head and golden eyes just enough to reach Rahela's face, her veil shifting over her shoulders. Her tone softened. "I can still remember when I first saw you after you'd been released, when you were falsely accused. You're so much healthier now."

Nodding, Rahela said, "I'm grateful for both your and Her Majesty's support."

Princess Tuya looked back to her work. "When my brother learns of all this madness, he won't be pleased. He's always been protective of his wives, no matter his personal feelings towards them."

"Her Majesty has already sent officials and investigators in to improve the Loveless Tower's organization and staff. Is there anything the Emperor could do?"

"There's always something he could do," Princess Tuya said. "We all trust him to work well." She pointed over to what seemed to be the beginning of a straight, red line in her project. "I'm going to form a hollow rectangle here."

She'd put her work in focus again. That was fine. She loved weaving. She spent most of her time weaving. "This is one of the best ways to lose one's worries," the princess said. "I have control here. Not a single thread moves without my guidance. There are no difficulties here."

Shrugging, Rahela wanted to say, "Until a loom is damaged or a thread snaps," but she didn't say it at all.

***

A messenger arrived one day. He claimed that His Majesty and his troop had been seen within Yahsin borders. The Emperor would return to marry soon, although the wedding wouldn't take place the moment he set foot in the castle.

Rahela's diet and appearance had improved greatly, although she still had a few marks from where she'd been bitten or scratched. With regular applications of medicinal ointment, everyone was certain those marks would fade away. If not, a little makeup could help, but only a little. Rahela wanted her skin to seem smooth and uniform, but she didn't want a false blush on her cheeks.

The spring weather was invigorating. Rahela wanted to ride her darling Ureche. At the paddock, she saw that playful stable worker again. Ganbold Hudma. He was giving Ureche his attention, lovingly scratching the mule's neck, most likely reaching an itch that felt so pleasant once dealt with. Ureche's ears flicked. Her nostrils were soft. Her breathing was content.

"You've tended to Ureche well," Rahela said as she approached the mule. She petted the creatures back. "I wish I could've had more time with her this spring. The weather's been agreeable, and I know she loves to run with me."

Bowing, Hudma said, "Ureche's a fine mule. Entertaining her is a pleasure." He then left to get the tack. Others went get tack and horses for Rahela's retinue.

Soon, they were riding. Cheerful exercise. Sometimes they went slow enough for mindless talking. Sometimes they went for little races. Mostly, though, they went to the direction of the hunting grounds.

At one point, Princess Tuya happened to show up on her own horse, with her own retinue mounted near her. She seemed poised and amiable as ever, if still holding a tranquil face. At her suggestion, their groups moved together.

Spring made the forest so much prettier. The leaf litter crunched and rustled with a bit more life as tiny creatures scurried away. The pathways weren't as stark as before. Green was spreading out. Birds sang.

There was an odd force. It was quick. It put a jerking movement in Ureche's body. Rahela felt it. She heard the mule grunt and squeal. It was as if something had been pelted at her.

Rahela tried to look for a cause.

She didn't have time.

From one side of the pathway, a huge group of mounted men, likely hunters, rushed through as if they wanted to stampede the group of mostly women and girls.

***