Ash-colored Despair (7)
“N-nice to meet you, your highness.” “I... I will do my best to serve you with devotion,” the girl muttered in a trembling voice.
Talia looked at her sharply, not hiding her irritation. As soon as you looked, it was immediately clear that the maid was inexperienced and clumsy.
Did they really decide to slip me a newbie to show who’s boss?
She said coldly:
— The nanny will take care of all my affairs. Call her.
“Are you talking about that woman... half-dwarf?” — the senior maid, the same one who introduced herself as Aretha, asked with a barely noticeable grimace. - Sorry, but you are now the mistress of the Eastern Duchy. You are entitled to servants appropriate to your position.
Thalia caught the thinly hidden contempt in Aretha's voice and narrowed her eyes.
“My nanny once served the empress herself.” Or do you, by any chance, think that the Grand Duchess is superior to the Empress?
The woman's face turned white, her lips pursed tightly.
-Didn't you hear me? I said: call my nanny immediately.
Aretha hesitated, but suppressed her displeasure and bowed.
- Whatever. We will entrust your morning preparations to those whom you brought with you. When you're ready, call us and I'll show you the castle.
“You don’t need to show me anything,” Talia snapped.
Aretha's face tightened even more, but Thalia didn't even think about softening her tone.
“Have you forgotten that I’m just back from a long journey?” I will rest in my chambers for several days. So don't you dare bother me.
Aretha moved her lips slightly, as if she wanted to object to something, but in the end she silently left, taking the young maid with her.
This impudent, defiant back made Talia seethe inside with anger, but she restrained herself. From the very first day she did not want to be branded a tyrant, looking out for the slightest offenses from the servants.
She fell onto the bed with a heavy sigh.
After some time, her nanny entered the room, yawning loudly. She had disheveled hair, sticky eyelashes and sleepy eyes. From this unsightly appearance, irritation flared up with renewed vigor.
Ну как её будут уважать, если она сама себя в порядок привести не может?
- Horror! Look at yourself! Thalia snapped. - Wash yourself immediately!
“Oh, why are you angry again this morning...” muttered the nanny, pouting her lips. She splashed water into a basin by the window, quickly washed her face, somehow smoothed her hair with her plump palm and began to light a fire in the fireplace.
While she was busy, two strong servants looked into the room, brought a heavy wooden tub of water and placed it behind the screen. When they left, Thalia latched the door and stepped into the water.
The nanny immediately brought a soft towel and soap, and began to rub her on all sides with confident movements - too hasty and rough, as if she wanted to get rid of this responsibility. The skin turned red from such efforts, but Thalia endured it. It’s better to endure this rudeness than to show your scars to strangers.
While drying herself, she stubbornly tried not to attach importance to the coldness that had clearly appeared in the nanny’s manner since her body had been distorted by illness.
“The whole dress is hanging like a sack... You are too thin,” muttered the nanny, sighing heavily, pulling an outfit of expensive silk onto her.
Talia couldn’t stand it and suddenly said:
- Stop sighing! It's disgusting to listen to.
- You can’t even breathe now? — няня скосила на неё глаза.
- Don't sigh in front of me, okay? I see you hate looking at me, so you puff!
There was no answer.
Talia threw an offended, painful look at her, waiting for her to refute it, to say something kind... but in vain. It was she who replaced Thalia’s mother, raising her from the cradle instead of Senevier. That is why the girl could not drive her away.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Talia angrily pushed her towards the door.
- That's it. Leave.
“Okay, I’m leaving,” she muttered, roughly pushed her hand away and left without hesitation.
Left alone, Thalia felt the anger that had just been seething quickly give way to anxiety.
In this foreign land, the only person she could trust was her nanny. Even if she turns away from her, she will find herself completely alone, without support.
Bitter frustration began to gnaw at her: why did she lose it in the heat of the moment?
We had to wait a little longer...
“Your Highness, I came on the orders of the young master.” May I come in? - an unfamiliar voice came from behind the door while Thalia nervously bit her lip.
After a little hesitation, she answered:
- Come in.
As soon as she said this, the door opened and a dark young woman walked inside.
- Greetings, Your Highness. My name is Tiuran. By order of the young master, I have been instructed to closely monitor your health.
Thalia slowly examined her from head to toe with a wary gaze.
Strong, long arms and legs, smooth skin, looking no more than thirty years old, intelligent dark brown eyes. Slender, beautiful woman.
“Are you the healer of the ducal house?”
“Yes,” the woman answered calmly.
Thalia frowned. For the court healer of the most influential family of the East, this woman seemed too young.
Apparently, noticing her doubts, Tiuran wilted slightly, but immediately spoke:
— They say that after a serious leg injury, you began to experience chronic pain. Can I inspect the damaged area?
Thalia involuntarily stepped back.
Show your scars to a complete stranger? No way.
— I already have a personal doctor. So do something else.
- But... this is the order of the crown master...
“I’ll talk to Barkas myself.” Now go away.
Tiuran bit her lip, as if considering something, and asked with cautious politeness:
“If you don’t feel comfortable showing your legs... maybe you could at least let me hold your hand?”
- Hand? For what?
“I will pass magical energy through your body.” This way I can find out his condition and choose the right medicine.
Thalia frowned. She had never heard of this method before.
-Can you really do that?
“I studied healing from the age of seven to become a healer of my own kind.” Please give me a chance. I will do my best to help you, Your Highness.
There was sincerity in the voice.
Looking at her face, Thalia finally gave in and tentatively extended her hand.
Tiuran carefully grabbed her palm with a strong hand covered with hard calluses. A rough touch, like tree bark, made Thalia twitch, but soon warmth spread through her palm, like a stream of water.
Confused by this new sensation, Thalia quickly pulled her hand away.
The healer frowned for a second, as if listening to her body, and, looking thoughtfully into Thalia’s face, sighed barely audibly.
“Before you can restore your leg, you need to regain your strength. Your body is very exhausted.
-...And what is needed for this?
- First of all, eat well and sleep well. I will prepare a strengthening potion for you. Take it every day.
Thalia frowned, disappointed. I was hoping for some unusual remedy, but I heard banal advice.
“Was it worth my while to raise my hand for this?” I know all this without you.
-...
- Okay, that's enough. Leave. As you said yourself, I'm too weak to stand on my feet for long. I want to rest.
Lying on the bed, she only squinted her eyes towards the door, and Tiuran, taking the hint, silently left.
Thalia pulled the blanket up to her shoulders and tried to sleep. But soon the pain that had subsided again palpably crawled up the bones. She tossed and turned, fidgeted, endured it, and finally couldn’t stand it: she reached for the bell.
A few minutes later, the same young maid, whose name Thalia could not remember, ran in. She nodded her chin arrogantly:
“Immediately call my doctor, whom I brought from the imperial palace!”
* * *
A sharp wind swept across the endless plains.
Squeezing the reins and driving through the pastures, Longboat looked back, surveying his native expanses.
When he first returned here after the news of the death of Tesalin, mother of Lucas and Raina, this entire land was painted a faded, dreary gray.
Since then, he has never been to Kalmore, and in his memory his native land forever remained dull and lifeless.