Gisella’s heart was still thrumming wildly in her chest when she managed to find the troupe again. Her mother had taken the place at the front of the flock along with Malota and Roseia while she fell in at the back.
She couldn’t see quite well from where she stood but the group had been stopped just before the entrance of the grand castle by some guards. Gisella was still in awe of the beauty and majesty of the grand castle that she barely noticed it when it was her turn at the front of the line.
One of the guards roughly grabbed her wrist and pulled it towards himself.
“Hey!” The actions from the guard caused Gisella to shout out, “What do you think you’re doing, sir?”
But without uttering a word to her the guard only looked at her from beneath the silver helmet he had on. She could barely see the man’s eyes or the way he looked at her, but the way his body froze and his hand continued to caress her wrist she had an idea of what he was thinking.
Pushing her eyebrows together she tried to pull her arm back but the guard quickly snapped out of whatever trance he had been in and snapped a blue band over her wrist. Gisella stared at the intruding object for a moment more before she voiced her questions.
“What are these?” Her voice was softer now and kinder too, hoping that she could entice the guard into speaking to her and telling her exactly what she wanted to know.
“They’re bands, my lady.” Gisella felt a bit uncomfortable with the way the man still held her arm but she didn’t resist, not yet. “The blue colour of this one indicates your peasant class. All members of the Farrador Court as well as everyone within the castle’s hall are required to have such bands to indicate their class and position.”
Gisella digested the information as it was told to her. It sounded like they were very strict about labels and titles within this kingdom, much more than their neighbouring kingdom or even the one after that. What was it about the Farradorian Court and their great need to establish lines between its people?
She shook her head at the band that now labelled her, although she was not of royal blood or had any part of the Farradorian army it did seem somewhat demeaning for her to be walking around with this band.
A slight anger rose up in her as she now learnt that this single piece of cloth now determined the respect she deserved within these castle halls.
She stepped away for a moment but then she remembered the particular occurrence at the marketplace. Turning back to face the guard, she called his attention to ask him one more question.
“You said these bands represent each social status within the castle?” The guard nodded, “What does it mean when someone is the bearer of a golden band?”
Gisella watched with growing curiosity as the guard’s face goes pale and his body, despite being rigid from before, goes even straighter. She watched as his eyes darted from left to right, as if to scan for something, and then looked back at her.
“That’s impossible.” The guard tells her straight.
Her eyebrows furrowed together, “But I saw one at the—“
The guard turned to her fully then and pushed his face into hers, “It’s,” He clarified sternly, “impossible.”
With growing confusion Gisella and the rest of her troupe were led to the eastern side of the castle just above the servant’s quarters where they were given their rooms. They passed the kitchens on the way to their rooms and Gisella’s stomach rumbled at the smell that emitted from it.
She supposed the cooks and maids were getting ready for the end of day meal to be served to the royal family and a part of her wondered what they might have been like.
She had heard stories about the ruthlessness of the current king and of his wife who had been killed years ago. The rumour that had spread throughout the Farradorian Kingdom as well as other lands was that Farrador’s Queen had been killed in an assassination attempt.
It was hours later when Gisella lay in bed that she still thought about the misfortune that had struck the royal family. She had tossed and turned all night and tried to occupy her mind with the stories she had heard over the course of her journey.
Sighing loudly to herself, she flung the covers from her body and got up and walked towards the kitchen. She was in desperate need of warm milk to calm herself down and ease her mind. Visions of a maddened king that had turned cold and distant after the death of his wife plagued her mind.
She was distrustful of powerful men, less so of men who thought they had been wronged by the doings of the world.
“Ouch!” Gisella hissed as her lower hip bumped into a table. Her mind so preoccupied with thoughts she barely managed to see the table next to her and missed the candelabra that had been sitting on it completely.
Luckily for her, a large hand shot out and grabbed the object by its silver body, steadying it in his hands before placing it back to its previous position.
When she lifted her eyes up to meet the other presence within the kitchen, the first thing she noted were tufts of strikingly wild blond hair. The next were piercing blue eyes as they stared down at her and she shifted from one foot to the other—both wondering if she should leave now or stay.
She decided on the former as her discomfort grew greater standing in the presence of the man. Despite him being as handsome as the stranger she had met in the market she still felt a great urge to be out of his presence. She stopped trying to move away when he called out to her.
“Who are you?” The strange and yet handsome man called out to her. His voice was soft and inquisitive, yet she thought there was a layer to something else as well. Despite it being a kind question she didn’t think it was her choice to answer or not.
She remained silent anyway. Not wanting to give the man her name or put her troupe at a potential risk so early on in their stay at Farrador. Her mouth remained shut as she looked from the man’s piercing blue eyes and turned her own matching set to his wrist.
There a golden band glinted in the dim candelabra light. She tried not to let her curiosity get to her and resisted the urge to reach forward for it and inspect it closely. So she only settled on a question.
“What does that mean?” She heard herself asking him and in contrast her voice sounded so differently from his own demanding one. Lifting up her own arm she brandished her blue band. She missed the way his eyes widened slightly as he stared at her.
She looked beautiful in the glow of the candelabra. With her back turned to it the light cast a golden glow upon her silhouette and the striking blue of the band perfectly matched her eyes. Long, blonde eyelashes fluttered at him as she waited patiently for his response and the stranger was overcome with a deep desire to see those eyes shut in pleasure.
Disregarding the way she refused to say her name the stranger only moved forward with his arm lifted, “Do you like this?” He mused, “Is it pretty?”
He leaned closer to her.
“If you come with me to my bedchamber,” the man’s voice was sickeningly sweet now, and a part of her wanted to laugh in his face at the tone he thought would work on her, “I can show you all sorts of bands… all sorts of things I use to tie other things up.”
A large hand came and caressed her hair, “Would you like that? Would you like to find out about these pretty gold bands?”
Gisella tried to hold back her body from shaking too much, “No, thank you.” She tried to leave but the man held her wrist tightly. It was almost bruising in a way and she felt a sense of fear seep into her.
“That wasn’t a question.” He snarled at her and she furrowed her brows.
Yanking her hand back Gisella replied, “I suppose I answered anyway.”
Gisella’s lip pulled up into a snarl and just as she was about to attack the man, a familiar voice called out. The voice was something like the bells of a church, calling her to safety and shelter during a storm.
But Gisella doesn’t think twice about it as she pushed the man off of her and ran away again back to her bedroom.