story - part 35 - solitude - 1143 words

The next day passes quickly; a day for rest, for calm, to brace ourselves for changes, to figure out new and confusing feelings. I down something strong and sleep through most of it. There are dreams [there are always dreams] but they fade out to something hazy and unfocused, brief flashes of color and distant, muted voices.

It is late afternoon when I drag myself out of bed. I find my simple clothing replaced by something far more ornate, in some soft and rare fabric, something a hair too big for me and far too fine for my tastes. Someone has decided that a prince should dress like a Prince, even a bastard one. I wish that I could have my black and red physician's over shirt back, but I suspect that this is on Corbin's orders, and I cave in.

Calidris is supposed to know my every movement, she is supposed to know where I am at all times, so I slip out of my own room and creep down the hall to hers. I hesitate outside for a moment, smoothing back my hair and adjusting clothing, before I knock solidly on her door. There is a soft murmur, unintelligible, and a shifting inside - it is a few minutes before she appears in the doorway, still dressed in her bed clothing with red hair loose and wild about her shoulders.

"What...? Is something wrong?" Her voice is deepened by lingering sleep, her eyes are vacant and tired. I feel a small twinge of guilt for having woken her, even if it is already so late that it is beginning to grow dar, and even though I do not really have a choice.

"I, ah. I was planning on finding something to eat, and I thought I should tell you." Suddenly uncertain, glancing down the hall and to my room. It has just occurred to me that I do not remember where nobles eat, or when. I only know the bustle and noise of the kitchen, but I cannot go there in this guise of prince, with my wings bared.

She can read the realization and the concern on my face; her fingers brush against my arm and she steps back, gesturing me inside. She is not decent for company, and prying eyes would lead to widespread gossip and sideways glances, but neither of us cares anymore. There are already rumors about us, one more would not make our situation any worse. I follow her inside and the door clicks closed behind me.

"I will ring for someone to bring us food, and something to drink. It will be fine. Let me dress first." Sweeping inward, to her bedroom, to dig out something more appropriate to wear. I am left hovering uncomfortably just inside, blinking around these familiar chambers and wondering if she intends for me to follow her.

"Come in and sit down. This will not take me long, I promise." Muffled, from the bedroom, off to the left. I creep further inward, settle perched on the edge of her comfortable chair and wait for her to emerge. I wonder if I should be flattered or upset that she is so carelessly comfortable with me that she is willing to change with me there. Or is this normal for nobles?

She is quick, reappears soon after with hair swept up off her neck, dressed in something close cut and high collared. Smiling at me, she twists in place to put the long line of tiny buttons, only halfway finished, into my grasp. It is an obvious request, or an order, and I move obediently to stand, working those buttons closed with trembling fingers.

"You look noble, Corbett. Except that your clothing is too big, we need to get you some that fits you. At the very least, I can find what you wore to the party." Smile still audible in her tone. It takes me ages to close the last button, to smooth the cloth into place against her back and shoulders. When it is finished, she shakes down her hair and spins about to face me.

"I do not really want that back." Hands hovering in the air for another split second before I drop them to my sides. She blinks up at me in confusion, as if she cannot imagine why I would not want my clothing back, and finally nods slowly. She does not understand that, but she is willing to respect my decision. And I would not be able to bear the memories those simple garments would drag along with them.

"I think I would rather find something to eat than drag a servant out of his daily routine to bring it to me. Where could I go?" Nothing condescending or disapproving in my tone. I am very careful about that. She can eat in if she likes, I just need the walk, I need something to do, to distract me. I hate feeling useless.

"An hour after sunset, formal dinner is served in the Great Hall. Or, I suppose you could hover in the kitchen doorway and wait until you catch someone's attention. They would give you something to eat. They would also give you nasty looks, but they would not deny you." Puzzled and confused. Her eyebrows knit together in the middle of her forehead, it looks like she would like to ask why I do not want to eat with her, but she bites her tongue.

"I am going to take a walk in the gardens, and...and I will either be in the Great Hall for dinner, or in my rooms. I promise." Unable to meet her eyes, I blink up and away, toward her door. I can still catch the almost hurt expression on her face, out of the corner of my eye, and the disappointed way she bobs her head in a nod.

Feeling awkward and uncomfortably, guilty again, I offer her half a bow and a smile, an attempt to show her that is is nothing personal. I must be very unconvincing, the look she gives me is glazed and somewhat flat. Then I start away; I am almost out, my hand has settled on the doorknob, when her voice drags me to a halt.

"I met with the King this morning. He wanted me to tell you that you are to teach the Prince tomorrow morning, to be suitably dressed for court in the afternoon. I believe he sent out a request for physicians in the city, today, and they are going to interview some tomorrow. He wants you there." Not a request, but another order. I nod my understanding, blink questioningly in her direction again - but can find nothing to say. Instead I slip out into the hall, and away toward the gardens for some more time to myself.