Malice In the Palace

Thanks so much to Amanda J. Silberg for helping me write this.

Two lightly-clad dancers appeared from the main door of the ball room. It’s hard to distinguish which one is Tyrina, because of the lace veil covering their faces.

I turned to my uncle. “They are splendid.”

“They most certainly are,” he replied. I could see his eyes glazing them over, a spectacle that seemed a bit odd for my uncle. He was seldom interested in anything other than Kolarian affairs.

I looked back at the dancers, noticing a loose braid of golden hair spilling from under her head wrap. I still can’t get a glimpse of her face, but the way she moves her body to the rhythm of the music is magical.

It must be her, I thought. She looks as if she hasn’t done anything but dance for all her life. Her slender arms look so fragile, yet so precious.  

Still dancing, she turns around, giving me a chance to study her face. It is definitely Tyrina. My body aches to run to her side and hug her tightly, just to never let go of her again. Her eyes are blue as the sky, her lips red as a rubies and her eyebrows formed perfectly, their color matching her hair.

My whole body vibrates, as if she is magnetizing. Her daring gaze meets mine, and she stops her graceful movements for a second. Her lips part in astonishment, her eyes shining with emotion.

“Why is she looking at you?” my uncle asked. “Is that the girl you met?”

I nodded. “Just on the street,” I said, trying to divert suspicion. I had to keep my uncle thinking that it was just a brief meeting, and not the budding romance I was hoping it would become.

Tyrina began dancing again, but was horribly distracted. She crashed into a nearby table, sending a glass into the air where it broke. I start running, wanting to catch her. Safe her from what I know will happen in a few seconds.

But I was woefully late.

I hear her whimper, through the noisy crowd of drunk, rich people. A tiny steam of blood run down her naked belly, and she faints, falling down to rest on the blood stained cloth, covering the table.

“Take her to my room,” I command the nearest guard. “And be careful with her.”