After another two days of recovery Hydrangea was now walking along the corridors of the guest wing of the palace. Bastian had told her that they had been granted asylum and that they were free to stay here as long as needed.
She would continuously bring up the subject of him going to Selva and he would always argue; "It's dangerous." "There's not enough supplies." "You need to stay here."
She pursed her lips in trepidation. She would not stay here, and she would not let him go alone. Hearing footsteps nearing the study she hid her emotions and placed a more calm expression on her face.
There was a knock on the door and Bastian stepped in. She observed his attire, he was now always wearing the fanciest of clothes, far more extravagant than what he'd worn as Sovereign.
He was wearing a green kaftan, a long, heavy overcoat that reached his knees. The textile was pattered with gold and light green emblems. A gold chain was clipped to his left shoulder and draped to the right side of his chest. His pants were of a dark green and his leather boots were topped with fur. She looked to his face and he seemed to be observing her dress as well.
'His face still looks so different without the beard.' She thought, but she was getting used to his chiseled physiognomy again.
She herself was wearing a large white shirt with a blue dress overtop of it. The shoulder straps were frilled with dark blue lace. At her waist the dress flared out slightly. The fabric was embroidered with vibrant colours in patterns of flowers and birds. Under the skirt was a layer of furs and some starched fabric to keep the skirt round.
Her hair was braided back into three braids that had been braided into one. That braid had been made into a bun and pinned at the nape of her neck.
After what felt like a long couple of minutes he finally met her eyes and cleared his throat, saying, "The Tsarina would like to have tea with you."
Hydrangea's brows raised, "Oh, uh where?"
"The servants will lead you to Tsarina's wing."
"And where will you be?" She asked, her brow raised.
"I will be with the Tzar."
Her lips formed a frown; he was always meeting with the Tzar, every second of every day.
"Will that be alright?" He asked and she met his humoured eyes. Her frown deepened.
"Yes, that will be fine." She waved her hand.
"You know, Hydrangea." He started and she gave him a bored look, "It wouldn't hurt to be honest sometimes."
She raised her chin, "I am honest."
"Are you?" He asked with his brows raised, "I've been thinking, you remember when you wouldn't hesitate to speak your mind? I do… I miss those days."
Then he left.
She stood there, before the window, her face a picture of perplexity.
He missed when she would speak her mind? Why? She would always yell and she'd slapped him more than once.
She looked up when multiple sets of footsteps came from the other side of it. There was a knock, then something said in Viskogornian. She breathed an annoyed breath through her nose.
Walking to the door she composed herself and opened it. A group of servants were piled on the other side. One of them spread his arm in gesture of the corridor to her left and then said something that she couldn't understand, but she caught what sounded like, "Tsarina"
So she nodded and they led her down the corridor and through a locked door. Then through a few more of the splendidly decorated halls and up and down a few stairs till she finally arrived at a sitting room.
The same servant who'd told her to come with him, knocked on the door. A feminine voice called out and the door was opened.
Hydrangea walked in, trying to keep her gait as regal as possible. Her posture remained straight as she walked in, placing her feet carefully with each step.
She bowed—Bastian had told her to whenever she saw the Tzar or Tsarina—and the stately woman nodded.
Hydrangea felt some tension leave her shoulders; the Tsarina looked to be a kind woman, Bastian had told her that she was.
The woman had affectionate hazel eyes set in a light skinned face with few wrinkles. Her blond hair was plaited into a tall braid that was masterfully set on the crest of her head with the length of the braid still draping behind her back from the "crown". An intricate silver tiara was placed on her head around her hair, which Hydrangea now noticed had streaks of white in it.
"Come, sit and we shall have tea." The woman said in Cadaraman, but her thin voice was laced with a Viskogornian accent. The lady patted the cushion beside her.
Hydrangea moved her feet and sat next to her, placing her hands on her lap as she watched the servants prepare the tea. The Tsarina strangely leaned forward and opened a valve on a strange looking contraption, hot steaming water poured out and she began to add certain things into her tea.
Hydrangea watched the ornate looking thing with a confused gaze.
"Oh!" The Tsarina's wispy voice came to her ears, "This is a samovar. You just lift the lever here," She pointed to a brass piece, "And the water comes out, hot and ready. Unless you prefer cold tea."
Hydrangea shook her head, "No, hot tea is just fine, thank you."
The Tsarina nodded and, once Hydrangea had made herself a cup of tea, she waited for the older woman to speak.
The Tsarina stirred the brownish red liquid with her eyes on the leaves drifting on the bottom of the cup. Taking one sip she set it down and Hydrangea lowered her cup to her lap, holding it steady with her hands.
"Now, I know that you've been ill and that you've been recovering," The lady started, placing her hand on Hydrangea's knee, "But I do believe that a celebration of some sort is in order, do you not?"
Hydrangea's brows drew up and she took a sip of the overly sweet tea, "I, uh-" She cleared her throat. She was still somewhat congested from her illness, "I'm afraid that I am not experienced in such things. What sort of celebration would you deem is in order?"
She smiled amiably, "That is quite alright, my dear. May I call you Hydrangea?"
Hydrangea's eyes widened and she swallowed, "Yes, yes. Please do."
"Excellent. Now, once we've finished here I shall get preparations underway for a grand ball. One suited for the Sovereign and Queen of Cadarama." She patted her knee again and took a sip from her tea, her eyes watching Hydrangea with an excited gleam.