Iszalie woke suddenly. The warmth from the man beside her was comforting and she relaxed. She closed her eyes quickly as she felt him roll over. As he gently pushed a strand of hair from her face she opened her eyes.
‘Good morning your majesty, how be you this fine day?’ His sly smile amused her, but only slightly. Ignoring the question, she turned her back to him,
‘Would you mind leaving now?’ It was more an order than a request.
The man relented but not before attempting a final touch. Iszalie flinched and pulled the covers over her naked flesh. She heard his sigh and smiled playfully to herself.
Slowly turning, she watched as the man began dressing, pulling on the clothing of his rank. A soldier in all his glory, a fine catch. He was handsome and strong, she smiled lustfully as his muscles flexed. He pulled his cloak over his shoulder and caught Iszalie staring.
‘Shall I return tonight, Majesty?’
‘What’s your name again?’ Iszalie snapped.
The man leant in and whispered, ‘whatever your Majesty wishes.’
Bored and agitated Iszalie shrugged her shoulders and turned away, ‘ensure the door is secure after you leave.’
The man’s footfalls echoed through her chamber as he made his way to the door. He slowed, ‘Michael’ he said firmly.
‘What?’ Iszalie yawned and stretched, becoming more aggravated that she was not yet alone.
‘Michael, my name is Michael.’
Iszalie pulled the covers over her head, and finally heard the door close. She pushed the blankets back and sighed. Iszalie stared at the ceiling and traced the symbols in the air with her finger, wondering why her father had decided on colouring it black. She let her mind drift.
A knock at her chamber door was followed by a small voice whispering ‘are you awake, Majesty?’ Iszalie sighed. Could she have one moment to herself?
‘Come in, Teresa.’
The door opened, Iszalie turned on her side as she watched the girl enter and attempted not to disturb her. She had.
‘Good morning Majesty, are you well?’ Teresa asked cheerfully moving toward the windows to draw the curtains.
‘Leave them!’ Iszalie yelled, Teresa bowed her head.
Iszalie rose from the bed and stood with her back to Teresa. She heard the girl gasp, and glanced over her shoulder at Teresa who had averted her eyes and begun picking up the clothes scattered around the bed. She knew that look all too well, it was the same whenever anyone saw the scars that covered her back. Iszalie sauntered towards the windows, and drew the curtains letting the light flood the room. She squinted until her eyes adjusted.
Below her a grand city. Steeples, as tall as mountains; mazes of streets weaving their way through multitudes of majestic houses. Although it was just past dawn, she could feel the bustle of activity below. It was a sight, a beautiful grand city. And it was hers.
‘Majesty?’ Iszalie turned around to see Teresa holding open a gown. She smiled, remembering she was still naked.
‘Thank you Teresa, and are you well this morning?’
‘Yes, Majesty, I am well, thank you for asking. Would you like some breakfast?’ Iszalie shook her head, ‘Would you like me to return this to Corporal Stern?’
‘Who?’ Iszalie replied yawning, looking at the sash in Teresa’s hand
‘Michael Stern, the Corporal of the Guards, I … thought I saw him leave … I must be mistaken, Majesty.’
Iszalie held her stare. Lift your head high you stupid girl she thought. Look me in the eye; stand up to your accusation. Teresa avoided her gaze. Iszalie sighed as she turned back towards the window. Why were people so weak?
‘Yes Teresa, please do.’ Iszalie smiled. She was bored, and she knew this always brought on a dangerous mood.
‘Make ready my clothes I think I need to go hunting’
The halls leading to the royal chamber were made of a dark green marble. From floor to ceiling, squares of ornate designs repeated throughout. The arched ceiling featured mosaics of forests and mountains, and upon one of the walls was the royal family crest. Two moons with a mountain peak between. As she had done as a child, Iszalie touched her fingers to her lips, and then placed them on the crest. It always brought a sense of sadness; today for some reason she was especially saddened.
Turning the corner Iszalie headed down a long hallway toward two doors, they were as tall as the ceiling and were made from a beautiful unearthly black wood - the entrance to the royal chamber; the room where all decisions pertaining to her land and city were made. The guards on either side bowed and opened the doors on her approach.
This room still took her breath away. It was larger than any other in the palace, with towering ceilings, and the intricate designs like those in the outer halls were repeated throughout the oval shaped room. Vast windows took in the views to the south and the surrounding mountains. The floor again was marble. A large table made from a single tree ran the length of the room. It had hosted many banquets in Iszalie’s youth; today it was simply a reminder of happier times.
In the centre of the room sat a delicately carved wooden throne, rather simple compared to the grandeur of the room, no decorations or ornamentation – it was subtle, but the carved wood seemed to reflect all the colour that fell on it. To its left on a lower level were set two smaller thrones, and draped across one of these with his head hanging, mouth agape, and snoring, was her brother.
Iszalie walked angrily toward her brother and looked down on him. He stank of alcohol, his clothes were dishevelled and his unsheathed sword lay on the floor, traces of blood splattered on the blade. Iszalie kicked the side of the throne. Daon stirred and began snoring again. She kicked him instead, harder, and he slowly woke. Looking around he finally fixed his gaze on Iszalie and smiled.
‘Good morning, little sister.’ He attempted to stand but only stumbled back into his throne. ‘I think I’m sick Iszi.’
‘I think you are still drunk! And you stink! Go and bathe.’
Daon smiled and shielded his eyes from the morning light, instead slapping his forehead. He groaned lifting himself to his feet, and clumsily bowed.
‘Yes, Majesty.’ Daon froze. Turning his head quickly he vomited all over the podium surrounding his throne, ‘I told you I was sick, Iszi’ he started laughing.
‘Guards!’ Iszalie roared ‘take this imbecile to his room and get someone to clean up this mess.’ The guards bowed and reached for Daon, but he pushed them away, ‘How dare you touch me you stupid oafs.’ Daon fell to the floor and laughed. ‘Well don’t just stand there, help me up.’
Iszalie shooed the three men away. After the doors closed she sank into her throne and tapped her fingers loudly on the armrests. It was going to be a long and annoying day.