Responsibility Ch. 28

"Here, Your Majesty. Please soothe your nerves with these," the chambermaid said as she bowed and handed a plate of well fried hog jowls to Rahela.

That Empress Consort was sitting in a corner of the Empress Dowager's bedchamber, nervously tugging and twirling on a tuft of one of her braids. When she had the bowl of jowls, she left her hair alone and put one of the meaty, fatty things between her teeth.

Her jaw was quick and nervous. One of her feet rose up a bit, leaving only a few toes to touch the floor. Her leg bounced underneath her skirts.

"I'm certain the Empress Dowager is already beginning the healing phases," Oksana said as she adjusted her position on a stool near Rahela. Her voice was bright but her face was ashen. Close to her, Yana was looking over at a tapestry, or that's where her eyes were pointed. Her jaw looked painfully snug. Ammas and the other two bodyguards were also nearby, and they all had the strictest expressions.

Gabi, who was closest of all to Rahela, asked in a breathy yet daring tone, "Might I have some of those?"

Hardly even recognizing the question, Rahela nodded and didn't react when Gabi took a jowl. Rahela was too preoccupied with her own dreadful thoughts.

Some distance away, kept on her tall bed, there was the Empress Dowager. Her attendants were standing nearby, listening to instructions given by a female physician. Not only was the Empress Dowager's leg broken, but some sharp rocks and branches had pierced one of her calves. There was also the angriest, most interestingly colored bruises all over her sore body. She needed the grandest care, the most cautious care, the best care in the world.

The Empress Dowager couldn't get out of bed without grunting and bleating out terribly painful noises. She'd always demand to be put back in her bed as soon as possible.

Once the physician left the area, Rahela put her snack aside and wiped her fingers on a damp cloth. Then she rose, her attendants and bodyguards following, and walked over to the bed.

Rahela was soon folding and sucking on her own tongue as she took in the Empress Dowager's appearance. A chambermaid reached over to adjust the blanket over the the patient's lap. The patient herself was wearing a simple gown, and her hair had been combed and wrapped up once more under a cap and veil. There wasn't anything improper about her.

Still, it wasn't an enjoyable sight. Her flesh was spotty and sickly. Blood loss and injury could do that to a person, but despite the lack of surprise Rahela still felt ill over it all.

And ... odd enough ... even with the meaty and salty flavor of hog jowls still coating her mouth and throat, Rahela was craving something else. If she'd been asked, she wouldn't have been able to say what she was craving, but she might've said that her stomach was silently whinging.

"Madam," Rahela said, "if there's anything I could do to lessen your suffering, please tell me. My mind is so weak now. I can not imagine what I could do."

Leaning back against a stack of cushions and pillows, the Empress Dowager sighed and turned her face away. "Whatever happens, Little Squirrel, you must not lose your will. If you show any deficiency to the world, you'd be more easily toppled."

After gulping down more saliva as the strange craving intensified, trying not to press her hand to her belly, Rahela miserably rasped out, "Your Majesty ... this woman you've warned against being weak ... she's pregnant."

Her shoulders rising and falling with a sigh that looked like it pulled something more than air out of her, the Empress Dowager said this:

"Calling the Emperor's wife incapable simply because she's done exactly what she's meant to do is asinine. Heedless of that basic fact, people are generally asinine. Their own impotency and stupidity will cause them to project these flaws onto others, particularly those they view as enemies. You have few choices, Young Empress. Even if your pregnancy becomes nearly unbearable, you must carry on and fight for yourself, otherwise you will fall or even be pushed."

Rahela couldn't think of an argument against that, but she wanted to argue. She wanted to scream and spit. She wanted to pitch a childish tantrum. She wanted to weep and chew on something else. Something earthy.

All she said to the Empress Dowager was, "I'm honored to have your wise advice, Madam."

Some time after Rahela left the Empress Dowager, she chose to spend some time on one of the verandas on the first floor. A few large braziers had been placed near her and her group. The coals were lively.

Rahela was holding a cup of warm milk and trying not to grimace down at it. Her gloves protected her skin but her nose was exposed. The milk's aroma made her stomach flop around. After a time, Rahela sighed and put her cup on a little table.

As she listened to Gabi chat with the older girls nearby, enjoying her practice of the Yahsin language, Rahela found herself longingly staring out at the snow, although she wasn't thinking of the snow. By the time her milk had cooled, she was grinding her teeth.

And she could endure it no longer.

Making a combination of a huff and a whine, Rahela shot up from her chair and stepped off of the veranda, down to the earth. Several people called out to her. What was the issue? Was there anything that could be done to calm her? Shouldn't one stay near the brazier?

Ignoring even Ammas' worried voice, Rahela crouched down and dug her hands into the snow, shoveling as much away as she could. Once more, she heard Ammas' voice. "Your Majesty! Have you lost something there?" It was likely that he couldn't think of any other explanation for the scene.

Despite the gloves, Rahela's hands were already cold. She didn't care. She tugged at the dead grass she eventually found and even targeted the hard soil. She was able to scrap a thin amount of powdery earth up.

And she put those things right into her mouth, even swallowing and licking her gloves.

"Ah! What?!" Again, Ammas.

Rahela thought her belly was finally calmed, although the taste was rough and undesirable. She was thoughtfully licking the earthy remains between her teeth when she felt an insistent grip on her shoulder. Ammas was right there, wildly demanding an explanation. "Why would you do that? How could you?!" He knelt down before her and put his hands on her cheeks. Rahela suddenly wanted to weep, but she had no feelings towards the vexed man's expression. She didn't know why she was so miserable.

"Please. Open your mouth." Rahela didn't respond, but she did let him pry her lips open so he could peer inside. She felt his breath as he said, "You actually ate dirt and grass. What's wrong with you?"

"Ammas! Mr. Ammas!" That was Gabi. She panted as she hurried on through the snow. "Don't touch your Empress! Not that way!"

Yes, in any other context, Ammas would've been beaten for such a daring touch.

But even in her unusually sad mood, Rahela understood he was only reacting to her almost extreme behavior.

She got up to her feet, wiped her lips with her covered knuckles, and brushed snow off of her clothes. "Don't chastise him. No harm was put upon me."

"She tried to eat the ground," Ammas bitterly said. "She needs to see a physician."

"Why would she do that?" Gabi moved on to stand beside Rahela. Then she tugged on Rahela's fur-lined surcoat, right on the hip. "Hey, did you try to eat the ground?"

Rahela didn't know what color her face was. However, when she saw the disgusted expressions of the passing servants and nobles that happened to be around, she soon felt as if her face was a sickening yellow color. A dark and almost green color. Like infected mucus.

Her belly lurched and she had to grit her teeth stop something from bursting from her throat. Her fingers made painful fists.

But she wanted more of the soil and grass.

Some moments on, after had rinsed her mouth out and sat down by another brazier, she wondered if she'd made a mistake. Why had she wanted to taste the earth? Why had the craving been so intense that she'd wanted to cry? It was so terrible, and now even more rumors would roam about. She'd be called insane, or at least unwell.

The scariest moment of the day was perhaps an hour after that incident outside.

She was back in her bedchamber, trying to play a board game with Gabi. Then suddenly, her stomach and mouth silently begged her for something more. Her eyes rose from the pieces on the board, and they slid over to the direction of her locked chests, the one that held ...

Held ...

Poison.

Poison!!

Rahela winced.

Why did she want ...?

Ammas was there before she'd even known he'd moved.

First, he stiffly bowed.

Second, he reached for the belt at Rahela's waist.

Third, without an apology, not even a warning, Ammas held onto Rahela's ring of keys. He jerked and tugged until a certain key was free and in his hand. Then, as a very dumbstruck Rahela stared up at him, Ammas said, "I'm going to hide this key. It's for your own good."

Rahela actually looked down at the board and let her lower lip stick out.

She couldn't remember the last she'd ever pouted, not even as a child.

***

At a long table, washing his hands with the simple, if darling soap that Zorig Bayar had designed for him, Borys Chaika hummed an old war song and let his brain empty itself out. It was one of the few truly calm times in his life. Standing beside him, also washing his hands but with a smaller basin, there was the little Zorig. He was in a happy mood. He often was. Such an easy-going child!

Once the washing was done, they had to dry their hands, and Borys used that time to get the smaller boy's attention and whisper to him, "We're going to hear very untrue words soon. You must ignore them."

Innocently blinking up at him, Zorig asked, "Is someone going to lie? Why would they lie?"

Patting his shoulder, Borys told him, "Sometimes, in order to catch true criminals, one must give a lie now and then. You must forgive all the lies you'll hear soon."

Borys couldn't find anything that even resembled distrust in the little boy's brown eyes. So he was confident when that boy said, "If you tell me I must forgive them, then I will."

Borys exhaled. It felt like some aching thing had gone with his breath, leaving him lighter and free.

They were in a large tent. The troops were resting at camp. Wearing a leather cuirass and a padded tunic, the Emperor was seated some distance away. He'd recently eaten. Most of his food had been bacon. He'd had such a craving for bacon lately. Borys had to check in with the livestock handlers to make sure there was enough pork for everyone else.

The Emperor still had a faint bacon smell on his person when Borys moved past him to get a rolled map. That man was carving his play soap, his face relaxed and clear.

Map in hand, Borys paused and realized he'd forgotten the table. Of course! He handed the map over to Zorig, and it was a funny image. The tube's height was more than the little one's.

Borys dragged a large, round table by its tabletop to a spot before the Emperor. Then he took the map from Zorig and rolled it out on the table. He held it in place with four paper weights. Not long after, General Anisim entered the tent and stopped near the table. He bowed and calmly said, "Your Majesty, you've requested my presence, and so I'm here."

After putting his play bar and knife away, then after brushing little bits of carved soap away from himself, the Emperor rose from his chair and stepped on over to the general. Borys thought the Emperor's eyes were unusually business-like. It was as if all the warmth had been buried under snow. There wasn't even the fun-loving smirk that Borys had grown accustomed to.

General Anisim and the Emperor spoke for a long time while using the map for reference. Borys kept Zorig busy with a scroll of text for him to practice reading. Borys kept himself busy by whetting a dagger.

The whole exchange between the Emperor and that general seemed normal enough, or it sounded normal. At the end of it, however, Borys looked up from his work, his hands pausing, and he saw the Emperor personally roll the map back into a tube shape.

The Emperor shook his head and groaned as if he was truly frustrated over something. Then he scratched at his hair and said, "Ah. My wife has placed more difficulty here than I should see. My life would be less exasperating if she fell ill."

What difficulty the Empress Consort could've possibly placed wasn't known to Borys. He couldn't think of anything. In his eyes, that woman had always been prudent and peaceful.

General Anisim's pale brown eyes widened only a bit, but otherwise he went on as if he hadn't heard the Emperor say anything.

Some hours later, as Borys helped Zorig gather the items needed for a rustic wash, he picked up a bar of soap. It was made to resemble bacon. The design had clearly been inspired by the soap gift the Empress Consort had ordered long ago for His Majesty.

The boys helped the Emperor undress and wash. When the Emperor happened to pick up the bacon-like soap, flipping it in his hands and producing more lather than he needed, Borys saw the warmth return. He was happy.

After he was washed, the Emperor was served a meal, and there was bacon. He saved the bacon for last, and once he finally had it he ate it slowly, closing his eyes.

After his fingers were cleaned, the Emperor relaxed in his pallet. Borys noticed that he spent some time tugging and fiddling with the hair ribbon tied around his wrist, the one he'd forced away from the Empress Consort's hair.

That actually made Borys flush.

Before anyone could properly fall asleep that night, however, a voice rang out from behind the tent's entrance flap. "Your Majesty! I have urgent news!"

Grumbling, Borys got up from his pallet and put a cloak over his body. His bare feet stepped onto the cloth floor. Once he was close to the entrance flap, he opened it slightly and asked the visitor in a low whisper, "What could possibly be so urgent? His Majesty needs his sleep."

The messenger gave an impatient little sigh. Then he hissed out, "The Empress Dowager has died. She was injured after falling off a horse and an infection took her away."

Borys heard shuffling some distance behind him.

He cringed before he'd heard it.

"Who died? Who had an infection and died?"

That was the Emperor's tired voice.

***

The judgemental stares Rahela often saw from the servants and nobles had her stomach churning.

Rahela the Wild. Rahela the Mad. Rahela the Worm.

The One That Eats Dirt.

Rumors were going around that she'd eventually raid a fresh tomb. Why wouldn't a worm want to go there?

She couldn't finish her walk. Her heart was too weak.

"Are you going to leave now?" Gabi asked as she caught up to Rahela. The two older girls remained behind while the female bodyguard stayed roughly to one side.

Rahela's legs felt nearly as clumsy as her slowly growing waistline, but they were determined to continue moving along the cool path outside. It was no longer freezing, however. Spring was breaking through.

It mattered not that she might've been ignored. Gabi spoke again. "Hey, are you really going to leave now? Are you going to your bedchamber?"

This time Rahela sadly muttered, "Yes ... yes." She didn't see Gabi's face, though. She was too busy watching the hem of her own gown flap and flutter.

"But you should try to be more visible," Gabi said. "You're the most powerful person in the whole castle."

Was that true?

Rahela's throat jolted with a sickening mass' attempt at arrival. She clamped a palm over her mouth and gulped the mass down. She knew she'd have to sweeten her breath later.

Now that the Empress Dowager was gone ...

Technically ... Rahela was the highest rank in every sense, with not even a mother-in-law to mind ... but ...

What support did she have?

All she could think of was Princess Tuya, and that one was hardly ever out of her bedchamber. That one was so stubbornly melancholy that she couldn't do much.

Even guards would sometimes roll their eyes at Rahela!

As if they all knew that this little empress was on her way out! It was only a matter of time!

Rahela stopped in her tracks. Her sister asked if anything was wrong. Yana and Oksana asked the same thing after a few painful seconds, in which Rahela's stomach twisted and poked more of her insides.

It was too much.

She was able to remember the last thing she heard from the Empress Dowager.

No wise words.

No kind words.

Rahela didn't know what her true last words were.

What she remembered was the Empress Dowager mumbling something in a burning sleep, no true words. Only angry noises. She also remembered the sweat on the Empress Dowager's brow.

An unfitting death for such a strong woman.

It still disturbed Rahela. If such a grand and powerful woman could die in such a pitiful way, what was in store for her, the Empress Consort?!

And now that the Empress Dowager's body was sealed in its beautiful coffin, the world moved on as if she'd never been important. Her attendants were sent off to different women in the Empire. Her valuables, including her clothing, were all given to Princess Tuya. However, as far as Rahela knew, that princess kept these treasures locked away, not even trying on a ring. Did she want to forget her mother?

Rahela pulled her hand away and vomited onto the road.

When her stomach was empty, but she was still coughing and gasping, the female bodyguard approached and quietly suggested that she continue the walk to her bedchamber.

Rahela pitied whatever servant that would have to wash the road.

She sat up in bed for a time, sipping water and eating plain bread. Gabi sat on the mattress beside her and tried to talk about happy things. Rahela didn't speak back to her, although she wanted to. An ache was forming in her lower back and she was wondering if she should ask for help about it.

When the aching turned to cramping that seemed to break everything, Rahela dropped her cup and bread, spilling water and crumbs all over the blankets. She had no time to ask. More people rushed to her side. The female bodyguard gently guided Rahela to rest on her side while Yana massaged her back.

Their efforts weren't as useful as they'd hoped.

Rahela was weeping.

Her belly was soon cramping too.

Was this a punishment from the gods?

It had to be!

Oksana's shrill voice ripped through the air.

"BLOOD!! THERE'S BLOOD!!"

***

The night wasn't too cold.

The blankets were adequate.

Her bed was comfortable.

As quiet as a rock, Gabi was hugging her from behind.

None of that was worth much. Rahela was cold.

She was cold, tired, and wanting everything in the world to end.

Her tears had been dried up long ago. All that was left was a silent agony buzzing in her heart and belly.

Timidly, a chambermaid approached and announced that Princess Tuya herself was at the door, asking for a moment with the Empress Consort.

Rahela didn't want to give an answer, but she supposed that she must. After blinking a few times and rubbing one of her eyes, Rahela pried her sister away and sat up. Then she folded her legs up under herself and smoothed her gown's skirt. She nodded to the chambermaid and softly told her to let that princess in.

Gabi climbed off of the bed, but she stayed nearby. Her eyes seemed larger and very concerned.

Some moments later, Princess Tuya and her retinue appeared, although the retinue stayed behind while the princess approached the bed. She looked how Rahela felt. Tired and nasty. Her veil was off-kilter. Her gown was thin and patched. Her face had no cosmetics. Her face was bitter.