Thank you so much for returning to the series for Chapter 2! I will reiterate, once again, that the buildups will be slow and if that is not to your taste, my work probably won't be for you. This chapter ended up being a lot longer than I anticipated just because I got so caught up on building the world behind the story, creating characters, and conjuring political intrigue. I have a terrible habit of getting lost in the details. Hopefully you all don't mind :)
Thanks again for supporting and stopping by; I hope you enjoy!
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Three days. Amora waited three days before she began planning her next escape. The last attempt took nearly a month to plan and she was already behind. It had become increasingly apparent to her that the freedoms that had allowed her to execute her previous escape were becoming a thing of the past.
The King had not dined with her since their last encounter. In fact, Amora had not seen him in Nightwall since, not even in passing. Vareena seemed to have disappeared as well, although Amora was not as curious as to
her
whereabouts. After two days of incessant pestering, Isabel had finally revealed to her that she suspected the King had left the country.
Good
. Amora thought. This gave her time to think and
plan.
Although, she hadn't much idle time to do either recently.
Since her arrival in Jodell, Amora had felt her place at Nightwall was somewhat unconventional. In most respects she was a handmaiden, just like Isabel or Vareena. When high lords visited the castle, she waited on their wives and daughters just like the rest of the staff. She changed linens, dressed them, and even emptied their chamber pots. This was nothing new to her; she'd been a servant nearly all her life. The difference between Amora and her fellow handmaidens was that she, too, was waited on.
It had been a rather strange turn of events for her, as she'd never been on the receiving end of this dynamic. She remembered the day the King had introduced Isabel and Vareena to her, instructing them that they'd be tending to her between their normal duties. It came as a shock to all three of them and made Amora uncomfortable. She was used to blending into the background when it came to servantry. Suddenly the King had made her a
person
, not just a servant. She felt underserving of this newfound status, even if it was limited to the confines of the castle.
The King's undiscernible motives also made her increasingly suspicious. He was kind enough to her, but she'd heard of his cold and calculating demeanor. He was known to easily resort to trickery and violence, as evident by his conquests of the smaller countries of the continent, including her native Relan. Her abduction served as further evidence of this. Though, she had not seen the extent of his deviousness, nor been on the receiving end of it, she thought it best she not find out.
No matter how she was being treated, she was a prisoner. Brought to a strange, rogue country for unknown reasons. Part of her, however, was filled with uncertainty. It was not as if she was being treated badly. She saw more meals in Jodell than she'd ever seen in Relan. She slept in a proper bed and was bathed at least once a day. Outside of her continued duties as a handmaiden, she was treated almost like royalty. If she left, she didn't know where she would find another meal. Besides, where would she go? She couldn't go back to Relan, she had no one and it was a part of the empire now.
The only thing that strengthened her wavering resolve was the memory of her capture. She remembered the unspeakable violence that had taken the life of so many within the castle where she'd resided. Violence that almost took her own life. The Jodellians were a contemptible, ruthless people. No amount of kindness could offset the bloodshed she'd seen spilled by them at the command of their King.
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Six months ago, Amora had been a servant in another royal household, in her native country of Relan. Castle Lowan sat on the coast of the Aried sea and was the oldest, most beautiful fortress in Relan. Amora had been born to a servant mother, Emilise, who like her had donned the same copper curls and grey eyes, and had also been a handmaid. Her father had died months before she was born; white fever, her mother had told her.
When Amora was six, rumors had circulated throughout the kingdom that the Queen Adèle had suddenly taken ill. She would not eat or drink, see her husband nor her two sons, and would wail and scream hysterically, her cries echoing throughout the night. King Geric, to save them both embarrassment, shut her in. Only allowing the Restor a handful of people to attend to her. After a couple of months, it had appeared the illness had passed. She began to leave her rooms and interact with the people again. However, it was short lived. One night, Amora's mother and two other servants were attending to the Queen in her rooms when a fit of madness befell her, and she attacked her handmaids. One managed to escape and call for help, but the other two were not so fortunate. Amora's mother and the other servant were already dead by the time the King arrived with a small guard.
It was said that King Geric had tried to reason with his Queen. Calmly talk her into putting down the bloody knife she'd held firmly in her hand. But the Queen was too far gone into her lunacy, eyes wide and spewing nonsensical words. Geric had tried to approach her, hoping that she would remember him in her haze of madness, but he also was not spared her wrath. Adèle attacked the King, slashing his face with her knife.