Responsibility Ch. 31

On one night, Rahela had Oksana comb her hair and even chatted with her with a pleasant and friendly tone. "Once you've graduated on to womanhood," she said to the young blonde, "would you fancy a mule as a gift? The right pet can be such a

joy."

With respectful eyes, the girl told Rahela, "Your Majesty, I'm not as thoughtful as you. I might abandon the creature without realizing it."

"You wouldn't even ask for a dog?" Rahela said as she looked at her reflection. A chambermaid was holding a mirror up. Rahela thought she was quite beautiful, even with stress pulling on her skin. Not the most beautiful woman in the world, but goodness she looked nice. Her cheeks were full. Her lips were flushed. Her eyes were clear.

"No, Your Majesty. I shouldn't have a dog."

"Aside from the typical gifts," Rahela said, "what would you want?"

Putting the comb down on a table, Oksana gave the weakest little smile. "Perhaps a few headrails to cover the top of my head, pretty ones with color."

Rahela promised that if she was able, she would give her those things.

As she slept that night, Rahela had troubling dreams, almost nightmares but not quite so frightening. She was constantly arguing with someone. No, no, that wasn't allowed. How dare you?! Those sorts of thoughts. Everything felt taut, even her toes.

She even imagined someone was holding onto her head, forcing her to listen to someone.

After a time, as the dream world's colors blurred against her eyes, Rahela thought she was floating. During this moment, she heard someone crying, then calling out to her with blame. You did this! How could you?! Terrible thoughts, aching thoughts.

Rahela tried to argue her position, even though she didn't know what position she even had, but her voice was gone. She couldn't even feel her throat buzz with movement. It was more irritating than anything.

Rahela woke up the following morning feeling as if she was in a foreign place, but she rubbed her eyes and shuffled away from her still sleeping sister.

She sat up.

Feeling light.

Feeling light!!

Rahela reached up and back.

Nothing.

She touched her nape.

Nothing.

She bolted up form her bed and sprinted away to the nearest mirror.

Absolute horror. Absolute shock.

Quiet. Her jaw didn't even fall.

Her fine pale hair, which she had often proudly displayed, most of it was now gone. Her hair was shorter than her husbands! Her ears barely had any to touch them!

Her glory as a woman, a source of pride and dignity.

Gone.

Rahela ran back to the bed, and she found no more of her hair. Whatever had happened to the length, she couldn't say. Her heart was so fast. Her feet and hands were now cold. Her neck and back were very, very cold.

The world was quiet and gentle. The girls and the female bodyguard were sleeping so well. A palm at a cheek, trying to keep tears at bay, Rahela tried to look for anything, anything that could be evidence.

Strange enough, what she saw was a tiny, barely visible group of hairs on the bodyguard's clothing, and especially a few near her personal scissors, which were looped onto to her belt.

Very well... but how was she meant to face the world? How could she face her husband?! What would he say? How could he ever lay down with her? How could he ever place a child into her womb if she looked like...

Someone with no glory, with no pride, with no beauty.

Rahela fully covered her face with her hands. She went down to her knees, and she happened to pick a spot with no pretty fur rug. It was cold there. Her legs all were soon chilled as she quite openly wept.

This was more than something cosmetic. This was damn political! This was her symbol of Testoan beauty. This was her culture. This was the equivalent of someone insulting her country. This was the equivalent of someone calling her unworthy. This was the equivalent of so many terrible things.

This was, in some ways, more insulting than being locked up in a cell.

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