‘Patience,’ she says firmly. ‘This is no trinket to be squandered.’
Salvacion helps me stand and returns the cane. When she makes to leave, I grab at her uniform.Please be my shield,I try to tell her with my eyes.
She removes my hands but squeezes them twice, holding my gaze.
‘This is a gift. You must prove you are worthy of it. Every courtier in Paranish will have the chance to make their case. As stewards your successes must show me you are worthy. The final decision will be mine.’
There are murmurings among the crowd but none of them dares protest. From my time at the Bastion, I’ve learned the courtiers are the most ravenous of Paranish. I’ve observed them take the queen’s morsels when she grants them, securing a better standard of living in exchange for ‘overseeing’ the towns. There is no such thing on the Winter Isle, Aistra being governed by the Temple Mothers with a direct line to the Bastion. It hadn’t occurred to me to wonder how the other isles and towns within were run.
I try to still the roiling in my belly and stand up straight. I will have my dignity, if nothing else. The queen remembers me then.
‘You may retire to your chambers, Hanan.’
How kind, I think bitterly as Salvacion helps me leave. The courtiers barely part as we push and shove between them to the door.I feel their hands brush across the fabric and my skin. It is a desperate hunger.
‘Do you need guiding back to your chambers?’ Salvacion asks, concern in her voice.
‘No, thank you,’ I tell her, brushing the tears from my eyes. I lean on my cane as I walk, determined to do it on my own.
‘I had no idea she was going to do that,’ Salvacion says, catching up with me.
‘What? What did she do? You should have the courage to name it.’
Salvacion exhales in frustration. ‘I am doing what I can, Hanan.’
‘Do you think all your little treacheries will do anything?’ I ask her, emboldened by anger. ‘While we eat her food and the rest of Paranish starves?’
‘Every drop of water is needed for a flood,’ Salvacion insists, grabbing my arm. ‘Little rebellions are all some of us have.’
‘Well, I’ll try to remember that when I’m an empty husk,’ I sneer, shaking her off.
She doesn’t try to follow me. I make my way to the queen’s chambers and through to the nursery, where the princess coos gently in her bassinet. I dismiss the lady’s maid.
‘The princess needs to feed.’
The maid looks at my fine dress, now dirty and bloody.
‘I said leave.’
The maid goes abruptly then.
I scoop up the princess, swaddled in a soft golden fleece blanket. If I bartered this, how far could I get? The princess has grown to know my touch and the promise it brings. She comes to me easily, nuzzling into my chest. I hold her in the crook of my arm and gently brush her cheek. Soft and fluffy as pandesal. She sneezes and then wraps her hand around my finger.
She is sweet milk, cloying and overpowering in her want. I feel it thick and furry on my tongue, the sickly but pleasant smell of sleep. I give in, and calamansi cuts through and mingles with her essence. Our energies flow into each other.
I come away feeling dizzy and nauseous, my mind clouded and body weak. Thoughts slipping like water through my hands. The babe fusses slightly and then settles.
‘Hush, Raina,’ I murmur, wrapping the blanket back into place. I never use the name the queen has chosen, the one which she will present to the Paranishian public. To me, the princess is Raina. There’s a peace in having a secret from the queen.
‘What are you doing?’
I turn to find the lady’s maid standing in the doorway. Perhaps she thinks my duties are that of an ordinary wet nurse.
‘Sating the princess,’ I respond.
Her eyes rove over us both and she approaches slowly. ‘Shouldn’t you return to the queen?’
My mouth twitches into a frown. ‘In good time.’
