Chapter 6: Ysolde: The Gilded Cage

The humans call it a ‘guest chamber’. I recognise it for what it is ... a gilded cage. A beautiful one ... draped in velvet, lit by golden lanterns, perfumed with rosewater ... but a cage all the same. The doors are locked from the outside. A guard stands outside the main door, perhaps the small servants’ entrance as well. The windows are barred with iron filigree disguised as decoration. Even the silk sheets feel like restraints.

I sit on the edge of the bed, back straight, hands folded in my lap. I will not lie down. I will not let them see me wilt. A queen does not wilt.

The palace around me hums with noise ... laughter, footsteps, the clatter of goblets, the rustle of silk gowns. Human nobles are celebrating. I can hear them through the walls, their voices rising and falling like waves. They toast their king. They toast their victory. They toast the fall of Thaliryn. My kingdom. My home. My daughters. The ache in my chest is a physical thing. A bruise that deepens with every heartbeat.

A soft knock at a small servants’ door breaks the silence. A servant enters ... a young woman with downcast eyes and trembling hands. She carries a tray of food: roasted meat, warm bread, a goblet of wine. She sets it on the table without meeting my gaze.

“You should eat, my lady,” she whispers.