[Amanaduial the archer]

I ask for your blessing, Goddess, and for strength to endure what will come ahead...what is happening in your land, my lady? The creatures, these leafy 'mothers'...they must be in your care, Rhais: what do they mean? What do all these changes mean?

Zamara's prayers had a slightly desperate, urgent note in them as she directed her thoughts up at the statue of the goddess, much as she tried to conceal it. But try as she might, the tension all around her was getting to her: the Priestess was, as always elegant and serene, but those who paid close attention and looked more closely might note that she looked more pinched and tired than usual, her serenity disturbed. In the month that had passed since the Emissary had first arrived, many things had happened, many changes had come about, and for the first time in years, Zamara felt that she couldn't understand what was happening beneath the surface. And there were indeed things beneath the surface: Zamara called to mind her meeting with the Queen nearly a month ago, a meeting that still troubled her.

"...but I do not suppose that will be necessary, Your majesty!"

Zamara's tone was half-joking as she smiled almost conspiratorially at the Queen where she reclined amid a pile of cushions. Bekah smiled with her, the expression lighting her face as she leant forward towards Zamara, moving her arm towards the Priestess as if she intended to touch the other woman's arm. But as she did so, the pillow beneath her arm slipped, and it fell awkwardly off, twisting at an unnatural angle. The Queen gave a sharp, muted cry of pain as she seized her arm with the other; Zamara, out of concern, darted forward quickly, staying the Queen's hand as it fell. As she did so, she felt something seem to snap beneath her dark fingers, light though her touch was, and she recoiled as if Bekah's arm was white hot to touch, her dark eyes widening. "Queen Bekah, what has...I-"

"It was not you, High Priestess," Bekah replied quickly, cutting the other off, her voice sharp with pain. From behind, one of Bekah's handmaidens made to come forward, panicked at her mistress's pain, scurrying to Bekah's side.

Zamara watched the Queen, thoughtfulness and worry creeping into her expression alongside the initial shock. "Your majesty, what has happened to your arm?"

Bekah's expression was troubled but she replied instantaneously, almost too quickly. "A fall, High Priestess. Just a fall."

"High Priestess?" The repeat of the words from her thoughts startled Zamara although the voice that spoke them was soft, and her eyes opened quickly as she was called back from the palace and Bekah, to the cold stone floor beneath her knees, her beautiful temple to Rhais...and, more surprisingly, Princess Gjeelea. So shocked was Zamara that she finished her prayer rather more hastily than usual, knowing she would return later. She needed to speak to her goddess, to ask more about these strange matters, both political, natural and, worryingly, religious.

Bowing in the traditional way, Zamara turned around to face the Princess as nodded her head in respect to the young woman. The princess had visited more often recently than before, but had rarely come directly to Zamara. "Princess Gjeelea, good morning to you," she said, smiling politely and with some warmth at the princess. She had a feeling that Gjeelea had come to speak to her, bearing in mind the way in which she had approached her, but thought it not polite to ask directly if it was to speak to her that the princess had come. "Have you come to worship?"