58 Dark Caravan (1/2)
Usoa covered her eyes, blocking the sun in an attempt to see something in the desert that lay beyond the sprawling expanse of the Acropolis. The city unfurled under her, colored, tiled roofs and bright canopies but her focus remained locked on the shimmering sands past the city walls. Far past the turrets of the tower she stood on.
Esti danced nervously from one foot, then the other, her hand shielding her own eyes in just the same way, her focus just as concentrated on the singular space where they would come from. The brides from the Dark and their escorts.
The girl, just seventeen, tugged on Usoa's sleeve, drawing her attention to her.Do you see anything, she signed, her body forming the words her voice could not.
Usoa shook her head and rolled her eyes. If you can't see anything why would I be able to, she asked in the same manner.
Esti shrugged and went back to looking, the sun glinting off the desert sands.
Usoa smiled wide, patting Esti's arm and pointing into the distance. Clouds of dust rose like clouds, a dark caravan stretched before them, coming over the horizon. Usoa turned to Esti to say something but the girl had already turned away, taking off at a run, back inside and down the stairs. Is she so excited to be married or just to be outside of the palace, Usoa wondered as she followed, slower.
Maybe I would be more excited if I was changing my status too but I'm only the daughter of a second wife, she sighed. Still maybe it will be nice to travel some, she thought as she hummed to herself, following the stone stairs down after her sister, the new wife for the prince of the Dark Realm.
By the time she reached the bottom the halls were loud with excitement, Esti having already come and gone, signing the news that they were coming. Her prince and his entourage to receive her. She slipped down the tiled halls, smiling at the familiar faces she passed, realizing that for some of them, it may be the last time. She sighed and pushed the thought away, it wasn't as if they were friends. But I'm saying goodbye to them as well, she thought frowning as she hurried to catch up with Esti.
Around her, the tiled halls, the walls filled with color that sparkled in the light of the sun from the windows. Around dark corners she could hear the whispers of the gossip as it spread, person by person through the palace.
She found the girl, finally, back in the Garden, excitedly explaining to Porras that the caravan had been spotted, that they would be here soon. Their older sister turned her head to them, her dark hair cascading, free down her shoulder, her dark eyes like pools locked on Usoa. ”Are you ready?” she asked.
Usoa shrugged. It is just a greeting, she signed back.
Porras waved her hand. ”A greeting with her new husband. Come on, you know she'll need help. I thought that's what you were stuck to her for. I'll help you.”
Usoa sighed for the thousandth time that day and slipped her arm through Esti's, pulling her to her bedroom. Porras was right, only a greeting but an important one for the girl.This is such a hassle, Usoa signed.
Don't say that! Esti objected.
”Of course you're excited, you're going to marry a prince. Usoa is going far away from home to be your maid!” Porras laughed as they walked through the Garden, past the blooming flowers and fountains and into the tiled halls.
Not a maid, a companion, Esti corrected.
A maid, Usoa signed, Porras nodding in agreement.
”You're very young, Esti. You don't know how things are. They are bringing Usoa back to make sure your hair is kept properly and to alleviate the stress you'll be under in the Veil. Another dreamweaver will make it easier to withstand all the light that will come to you until you are properly bonded with the prince of course.”
Esti frowned. Do you think he'll like me, she asked shyly. I'm not pretty like Porras.
Usoa glanced up at their older sister, Esti's words ringing true. Porras stood tall and full as the moon with dark hair that fell like water down her back and smooth, rich skin the color of amber. Her dark eyes shone bright with life and laughter and her lips held a smile. Esti favored her a good deal, the same hair, skin, eyes and lips, but their ten year age difference was clear. Porras was a woman where Esti still looked much like a girl.
You're very pretty, Usoa comforted her as they walked considering her own looks. Their mothers were different women and it showed. Usoa's skin was a dusty sand colored and although there was some fullness about her body in her hips and breasts, there was a litheness to her that her sister lacked. That and her auburn hair, thick and curly matched with her tea-brown eyes made it clear that she was the daughter of the second wife, not the first. Less important and in line for no parts of throne. At twenty four, if she had been born to Esti's mother, she would marry the prince from the Dark Realm. Still, there was some small joy in her freedom to choose some part of her path, a bit of her own future.
If Porras was a dreamweaver like us she would be marrying the prince, Esti signed, her jealously clear.
”Don't be childish,” Porras scolded, ”There's no reason for you to be nasty. I cannot be Sorgia and neither can Usoa. It is only you, as the first daughter born a dreamweaver of the Emperor who can take on this role. There is no reason for you to be so jealous.”
Esti frowned and they laughed, hurrying the girl into her room. There, the two older women stripped the girl and rubbed her skin with fragrant oils. Next they concentrated on her hair, brushing it until it shined and shimmered in the sun. Porras as added color to the girl's lips and outlined her eyes they the dark pools appeared larger and brighter.
”I'll take care of her clothes,” Porras announced. ”You should go get ready yourself, Usoa.”
Usoa frowned down herself. Porras was right, she wore a drab brown dress, fit for climbing towers, not for greeting royalty. Standing she nodded and left, heading for her own room. She left the halls of her sisters and made her way into her own family's, the maids and servants smiling and waving as she passed, busy with their own work and concerns. She stepped into her own courtyard, a small affair with a bench and a simple flowerbed which she tended on her own. She frowned, who will care for these when I'm gone?
”Sister, are they here?” Ochoa asked, releasing the light he had used to hide himself in, startling her.
Stop doing that, her hands moved quickly.
He laughed. ”I need the practice! How will I become a member of the guild if I can't even hide correctly?”
It is unseemly, you are the son of the Emperor! To become an assassin is not right!
”What do I care, the son of a second wife, what is and isn't unseemly? Our brother will take the seat when the old man passes. I will need something to keep me occupied and useful now that my dear sister is leaving me,” he laughed.
A tremor of sadness ran through her then. The face that stared back at her was so like her own, her dusty skin, her tea-colored eyes, the same nose and full lips. Shorter hair but just as red, just as curly. Though they hadn't been able to fool the maids by swapping clothes in many years since his body began to shape as a man and hers as a woman, it was still clear to all who saw them that they were twins.