[Aylwen Dreamsong]

“It is a lovely gift, and it suits you, my lady!” Akim admired Gjeelea’s necklace. The princess nodded her thanks as the other younger ladies of court agreed with Akim. The silly grins on the faces of the young nobles stretched to show their teeth in misleading flattery. Gjeelea knew the motion well, for she had given false smiles often, to her parents as well as the petty nobles that so often spoke to her and her family. Akim tilted her head slightly to the right; her eyes focused on something behind Gjeelea’s head. Turning, the princess saw that Akim’s gaze had landed directly upon where Lord Korak sat, opposite of the Lady Arshalous. “You are very lucky, if I may be so bold, princess.”

They think I am so lucky…Gjeelea hid her smirk as thoughts ran through her head and contempt flashed for just a single moment through her eyes. They know nothing of Lord Korak but his lovely face and his soothing speech. They see no further than his dark skin and luring eyes. Silly girls.

“I am indeed very lucky; it is as you say,” Gjeelea lied bluntly to her companions (she would no sooner call them friends than she would call Korak loving) as they smiled and nodded their agreement.

Suddenly, a light wave of hushed murmurings made its way across the room. Person by person the message began to lose its meaning and truth. Every second that Gjeelea waited for the gossip to reach her circle made her more certain of the lack of credibility.

“He said that Siamak should be made King!” Majran’s voice came in heated whispers to the small circle of dignified ladies. All the eyes widened except for Gjeelea’s, who had been expecting some kind of news, and questions quickly arose from the gaggle of petty ladies.

“Who said that?”

“What?”

“The Emissary! He said that Siamak would be the next King!” Majran answered the questions with a squeal. Some of the ladies looked immediately to the princess while others cast wild looks about the room, trying to see where the Emissary was. Gjeelea did not speak until the impressionable young noblewomen had calmed into silence.

“This Emissary has many lessons to learn,” Gjeelea paused for effect, and soon all ladies in her circle turned their eyes attentively to her. Where is Siamak when I need him? She had meant to look to her brother also, to add meaning to her words, but he was nowhere to be found. “Our good Emissary shall soon learn the lesson that the son of the King is not always fit to be the next ruler. Now, if you will excuse me, I would like to find my brother.”

It was another lie, but it quelled the questions in the faces of her companions as Gjeelea left the group and went to find another. Although the princess did not seek out her brother, she did wonder where he had gone off. Her brother always seemed to disappear – the siblings never saw or spoke to one another unless absolutely necessary – and sometimes it made Gjeelea wonder what the young prince was up to.

Instead of searching for Siamak like she had told the girls, Gjeelea joined the table of her mother. There she saw her father and others speaking with the Emissary. His dark hair fell in waves – something Gjeelea was not used to seeing – and his face awkwardly clean of hair. The princess watched the Emissary and waited until there came a pause in the conversation.

“Good Emissary,” Gjeelea began, her alto voice silky and falsely hesitant. She forced out a smile. “I do not mean to interrupt. I have seen you, sir, but I do not believe we have formally met.”