Author's Note: A male friend of mine seems to think that this story is "GrimDark." I'm disagreeing but I'm also unsure. I don't know much about that concept. What do you think?
***
Itching. So much itching.
That was the part that bothered her the most. The bugs. She'd scratched herself so much that she'd bled.
Another part that bothered was the guards' incompetence.
On the moldy bench Rahela had often sat on, every single day she'd take her knife and dig a little line on the seat.
She still had her knife, and everything else that had been attached to her girdle. She even had her scissors!
According to all the marks she'd left behind in the bench, she'd been kept for almost a month. When a guard came, she'd wrap her cloak around herself to hide the tools that had been so foolishly forgotten about. At first, she was questioned often. They told her the Empress Dowager was bed ridden, and it was all her fault because she'd apparently poisoned her. It would be best to confess, they'd usually claim.
Rahela chose not to say anything to them.
One day, her stubborn silence angered a guard so much that when it was his turn to exchange her full chamber pot for a clean one he decided to just knock the full pot over, nearly splattering her with the contents. A younger guard came by an hour later and volunteered to clean everything up. He'd even put down fresh straw for her, and because of that Rahela quietly performed every mental trick she could think of to remember his face and name.
She supposed she should be thankful. Not talking was dangerous. They could always torture her. What she truly worried over was Gabi. Gabi was only a child, an innocent little one. Legally, she knew that Gabi and the ladies-in-waiting weren't supposed to be punished. They were meant to be interrogated, but otherwise they'd be confined to Rahela's bedchamber.
But she knew extremely well that just because something was illegal didn't mean it didn't happen, especially not among governments.
Sometimes Rahela wept.
She was starving. She knew it. Some days she wasn't given food, only water. She could see and feel more of her bones. Her skin was dry with scaly patches. She was always cold, and she trembled. Sleeping was extremely difficult.
The reason why she had hope ...
The only reason why she hadn't sent Gabi away ...
Was because she trusted the Empress Dowager not to let this go on for too long.
Before Gabi could truly be in any danger, Rahela had to be shown at court and found guilty, at least. Even those who hated her would demand it. For Rahela to die in prison, that wouldn't satisfy anyone.
When the cell door was opened one morning, Rahela had thought someone was going to come and clean up. Perhaps it was that nice young man that had been helpful to her.
No. It wasn't. It was only a group of guards telling her it was time for her to show up to court.
She was unstable, in danger of collapsing. That's how weak Rahela was, but her chilled fury drove her on. The guards didn't even see the need to touch her. They probably didn't want to. She didn't smell nice and perhaps three different kinds of pests were in her hair and on her skin.
That kind guard stopped them and insisted that she had to eat something before she went. Nobody else seemed to hate her enough to care whether she ate or not. So nobody protested when that kind guard gave her food and watched her eat. A proper wedge of ordinary cheese. A bowl of broth that actually tasted like pork, and there were tiny pieces of real pork too! And a roll of fresh bread. It was all still a tiny meal, and Rahela ate it as slowly as the kind guard allowed, but it was heavenly when compared to what she'd been given before.
She was already exhausted when the meal was done, but she drank all the water she was given. The kind guard decided to join the other guards. He decided to stay near her so he could keep her face from meeting the ground.
The moment they were outside, Rahela's eyes squinted from the sunlight, which was almost like a shock. The fresh air, however, delighted her lungs and almost made her feel giddy. If she had more energy, she would've tried to skip.
Along the way, they were stopped by a woman with a long veil and a headdress shaped like a crescent moon that had been turned with its outer curve on top. This woman introduced herself as Esfir Koztrov. She showed a document with the Empress Dowager's signature and wax seal.
"Her Majesty is confined to her bed," Koztrov said, "but she was still able to send for me. I'm your barrister, Your Highness. I'm here to argue for and defend you." As she put the document away, rolled up into a tube, Koztrov asked, "While you were in your cell, did anyone tell you had the right to ask for a barrister, or to hire one?"
Rahela barely had the energy to whisper, "No." Her voice was similar to a frog's cry.
Shaking her head and making disapproving noises with her tongue, Koztrov said, "I should've been sent to you long ago. What a hapless little woman. I'll do my best for you." Her eyes were soft as she looked down at Rahela's emaciated face. "Have you answered any questions?"
"No," Rahela repeated, her fingers digging deeper into the cloak she so tenaciously held closed.
"Excellent," Koztrov said. "Don't even speak without my permission. Normally, I wouldn't even dare to give Your Highness an order, but this is for your own good."
The group then continued on to the Imperial Throne Room. The moment Rahela was in there, she knew she might always be remembered as the lice infested, flaky and thin, ugly little foreigner that dared to try to marry their Emperor.
Another glorious court meeting. Brightly colored and glittering people. Princess Tuya on the throne with her girls seated near her.
That princess was frowning when Rahela first saw her. The frown deepened when she finally met Rahela's weak eyes.
Princess Tuya was a vision of gold and black with a purple headdress. That headdress was vaguely shaped like a flower, and the petals had outlines of shiny gemstones. There were even tassels of similar gems hanging from each side of her face, only just touching her surcoat, which had a neckline deeper than the gown underneath. The length of her veil, along with the jewelry pinned to it, had been gingerly pulled away and rested over one of the throne's armrests. She was on the oh so daring edge of fashion and high class in Yahsin culture, but that didn't seem to console her.
The group stood between the throne and the audience. Rahela didn't know what to do. Normally, she would've been more alert, but she was so weak and listless. Her brain could still perform some basic forms of logic, but anything too complex and she might faint.
But she did hear Princess Tuya say, "This is absurdity. Princess Rahela is headstrong and silly, but she's not foolish enough to poison the Empress Dowager. Justice was not applied here, only ochlocracy, or a similar but wild concept."
Rahela thought she understood. It seemed that the reason why she'd been accused and imprisoned was because most of, or even all, of the nobles demanded it. She dared to turn her head back to see their faces. Their furious, accusatory glares were enough to convince her.
Rulers couldn't work alone. They needed support. When your supporters all hated someone, it was only a matter of time for their target to be harmed. One couldn't ignore their wishes so easily.
She looked back to the throne, right up to Princess Tuya's bitter face. Then she looked down at the rug on the floor.
"Well, does anyone want to give an accusation?" Princess Tuya asked. She was holding the scepter Rahela had seen before, and she drew what was almost a circle with it. Then she seemed to point at someone and she said, "You. Stand. Speak."
Rahela heard a man clear their throat and claim it was obvious that Rahela had poisoned the Empress Dowager. When he was done, another man also got up and said it was obvious. Rahela let a thin arm poke out from her cloak so she could furiously scratch her scalp. She hoped none of the bugs jumped onto the people around her.
The moment there was room to speak, Koztrov asked, "What evidence is there to support such a claim?"
"Princess Rahela blatantly collect poisons," someone pointed out, "and she's been courting the Empress Dowager's regard. She must've used all the opportunities available."
"Your Highness, that's not evidence," Koztrov insisted. "Nobody should be appeased with that."
Nodding once, Princess Tuya asked the audience, "Does anyone even know what was used to poison the Empress Dowager?" After a short, quiet time, Princess Tuya announced, "I've already hired two toxicologists to investigate. They'll stand before the court now."
Right then, two men entered the space. They stopped and bowed to the throne some feet away from Rahela and the group near her. They seemed ordinary enough. One was taller than the other. The taller one spoke as soon as Princess Tuya addressed him.
"Small amounts of poison has been applied to the Empress Dowager's jewelry, an invisible and tasteless lacquer. This was meant to damage the Empress Dowager over time."
New lines forming on her brow, Princess Tuya said, "That sounds quite ... difficult."
"One would need to soak the jewelry in the poison for some time," the taller man said, "and then let it dry well."
Almost rolling her pretty golden eyes, Princess Tuya said to the audience, "I suppose most of you will argue that only Princess Rahela would think of such a thing. She might as well be a toxicologist herself. Is that what will be said?"
Silence.
But then, after someone coughed, and someone else sneezed, Rahela heard a woman in the audience say, "The Empress Dowager turned ill after Princess Rahela began regularly visiting her. It's highly suspicious."
Bam!!
One of the side doors was slammed open. Everyone reacted in some way. Some people jolted. Some hopped or bounced. Princess Tuya nearly dropped the scepter. Rahela almost fell onto the guard that had been so kind to her.
The Empress Dowager.
A blood red surcoat with a thin plackard, so thin that it barely existed, essentially a rope of ermine fur. More ermine fur had been made into a border for the garment. Her gown was black with a little pattern of golden triangles. The gown's sleeves had a light bag style, cuffed at the wrists with some looseness in the fabric on the arms. Her long, golden veil and tall, wide black headdress framed a face so contorted with rage that Rahela almost fainted at the sight.
She didn't have any jewelry, aside from a few things that had been sewn onto her clothes. Rahela didn't even think there were jewels on her veil.
And she didn't look like she'd been sickly and stuck in bed.
