After Cece had put on the dress, Gheai started making the
slippers out of the few scraps of fabric left over from the dress. She had
decided that the bright green color wasn't nearly as bad when on the dress,
though with her silvery hair and red skin, she felt as if she were a Christmas
tree with eagle ornaments.
Finally fitted with slippers- a process that only took a
few moments, though was beyond Cece's understanding- Cece wriggled her toes and
was surprised at just how comfortable they were. They seemed durable, though
she felt that tramping through the camp would dirty the fabric almost
instantly. And the fabric will probably
rip easily, too.
Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Cece smiled at
Gheai. She wasn't sure why she was acting as if she would be wearing the dress
and slippers for a long time. As soon as she woke up, the memory of the soft
slippers and strange dress would disappear quickly. Then maybe when I sleep again I'll be able to have a normal dream.
As if Gheai had signaled to Loyie that they were
finished, the small woman came bustling through the door, her expression blank
but her fists clenched. The sun was already starting to fade, surprising Cece at
how long it must have taken for the dress to be sewn and the shoes made.
"Thank you, Gheai," Loyie said quietly before
reaching into her sleeve and pulling out a small coin. "That will do for
now." Loyie ignored the unhappy expression from Gheai, as if the payment
was much too small for the amount of work the woman had put in.
"Here is your dress back, Loyie," Cece said,
holding out the neatly folded dress for the small woman to take. "I would
have washed it, but your ways of cleaning are much different than mine."
Loyie frowned, looking puzzled at the dress for a long
moment. "You may use it for scrap fabric, Gheai. I do not need it."
"But Watcher, that dress is your-"
"It does not matter what it was, Gheai. All that
matters is that you need fabric, and so I am giving you some. Dresses are of
little importance with the times at hand. Do not worry."
Gheai nodded and took the dress from Cece's hands. The
woman stroked the fabric as if it were something of great importance, rather
than just a simple dress. Cece wasn't sure what importance it held, but got the
feeling that she should not ask.
"Child," Loyie said, directing her attention
back to Cece, "come with me. It is time that you spoke with Prince Bramaad
and King Xvenaad." Her tone was iron, as if she were already expecting a
fight to occur.
Cece nearly started laughing. She supposed that if there
were a prince in her dreams, there would most certainly be a king, though she
had hoped for once her mind would make an exception.
Without pause, Loyie turned and headed out the door. Cece
nearly jumped to catch up with her, though being taller than the smaller woman
gave her some advantage.
"Why do they want to speak with me?" Cece asked
once she had caught up with Loyie moments later.
With the light growing dimmer, Cece couldn't tell, but it
looked as if Loyie had rolled her eyes. "Men, even men with power, are not
always willing to see what is right in front of their faces until it bites them
on the nose."
When Cece tried to press further, the little woman did
not reply. She even ignored the bows and signs of respect from the men and
women they passed, simply weaving past them as they traveled more toward the
center of the camp.
Finally she stopped in front of a seemingly simple hut.
It was a little more put together than most of the other huts, but even the
size was not much larger than all the others. Cece supposed that they would try
and keep the enemy guessing as to where the leader sleeps, but she couldn't
imagine people getting through all the traps, then to the hut before someone
caught them. Why am I even thinking about
this?
Instead of just entering as Loyie had done at the
previous hut, she knocked on the door and said loudly enough for someone inside
to hear, "It is the Watcher, come with the girl."
Instantly the door sprang open with Bramaad's chiseled
face greeting them with a grim expression. "Come," he barked, opening
the door wide enough for the two to pass by.
Inside the hut held more furniture than Loyie's, with two
tables, an actual bed in the corner rather than just a bunch of blankets,
shelves, a cooking stove, and another small desk right next to the door. The
floor had several carpets overlapping one another to make a much nicer floor
than even the mud-packed floor of Loyie's hut. There were people scattered
about the place, making it feel extremely cramped.
It did not take long for Cece's eyes to settle on a
muscular man with tanned skin and a chiseled face, much like Prince Bramaad's,
but his face held a neatly groomed beard and connecting moustache that only
framed his mouth. His eyes were hard, though Cece suspected it was from
whatever he was going through, for he had laugh wrinkles around his eyes. Right
then, however, Cece couldn't imagine him laughing for anything. So this must be the King Xvenaad. At least
my mind let him seem more approachable than his son.
The king did not look up as his son led the two up to the table he was crouched over, reading a piece of paper. The king was wearing a simple shirt and pants, but over his heart embroidered in the same green as was on all the men's armor, was the eagle in the center of a full sun. Although he was not wearing a crown, his mere presence made Cece shift and swallow.
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