The North Gate of Torobirk, the capitol city of Unaria, was an especially imposing structure. Stone walls soared a hundred feet tall on either side. The frame of the massive doors was carved from wood to look like the open mouth of a snarling, fierce dragon, and the doors themselves were covered in bronze panels, each depicting a different scene from the empire's history done in bas relief. The doors were so heavy that it took several men to open them.
Princess Talia the last ruler of Vezda, entered the capitol city of Unaria as a prisoner. Talia, Mikhail, and Ilya had out-distanced the escort troop due to several days of hard riding, and the gate guards did not hide their surprise upon seeing them... or their appearance.
Prince Mikhail had forced Talia to ride with him, and she sat in front of him, ignoring the arm he wrapped around her waist to steady her. She was weak still, and though she tried to keep her back straight and space between them, she had often collapsed in fatigue against him as they rode. It was some small comfort that she was aware of how filthy and stinky she was, and though he made no comment on it, she was certain he found the situation very unpleasant.
She'd been given water to rinse her mouth out after vomiting, but there were no more clothes for her to change into, or perhaps better said, no clothes which Prince Mikhail deemed were appropriate for her to wear, for he had found a clean tunic for himself from somewhere. She was given only a wet rag to wipe off with and her own robe to cover herself, which had long since become filthy and mud-splattered from travel. She had no way to confine her hair, and nothing to comb it out with besides her own fingers, and she knew that it hung greasy and tangled around her face.
When word spread to the citizens of Torobirk that Prince Mikhail had returned from Vezda with the famed Princess, they rushed from their homes and poured into the streets. However, she was not the proud and beautiful royal woman with her head defiantly raised that they expected, but a filthy and bedraggled slip of a girl who slumped against their Prince as though she were already half-dead. She was disappointing, at the very least, and the Unarians were extremely verbal in their dissatisfaction.
They booed and hissed, calling insults so loudly that she was sure they would spit and throw garbage at any moment. But that moment did not come. They could not spit or throw something without the possibility of hitting Prince Mikhail, whose arm was wrapped firmly around her.
As a child, Talia had secretly wished to see the capitol city of the Unarian empire. She'd heard about Unaria her entire life, and though she hated the Empire with every fiber of her being, she was also consumed by a rabid curiosity about its culture and people. What did they dress like? What did their homes look like? Did all the men wear their hair long, or was it just their warriors? Were women really kept indoors and not allowed to leave their homes? Did the people love their emperor? Did they truly not see him as evil? How did they stay warm? What did they eat?
Of course, that was only when she was young. In her entire 18 years, she never left the small Kingdom of Vezda, though she'd seen every town, port, and island within its borders,but after her sister's death, she felt only disgust for the Empire and its people. Her curiosity had died.
She closed her eyes to the enraged citizens and their jeering faces. Prince Mikhail let go of her waist long enough to pull the hood of her cloak down over her face, shielding her from the curious and angry people who lined the streets.
They entered the palace courtyard through a heavily guarded arched gate, and the two men immediately dismounted.
Prince Mikhail reached up to wrap his hands around her waist, but Talia was quick to slap his hands away. She dropped to the ground herself and leaned against the horse to steady her weak legs.
"We should go to the bathouses first," Ilya suggested. "I can call for Vanya to bring clean robes for the Princess and--"
"No. We will greet the Emperor now."
"My Prince! The girl is filthy..."
"Yes," Mikhail agreed.
"She smells of vomit... among other things."
"Yes,"Mikhail agreed.
"The Emperor will certainly find her appearance to be offensive and--"
"Yes," Mikhail murmured. "Yes, he will."
Ilya's eyes widened in understanding. He nodded.
"As you say, my Prince," he bowed.
Talia ignored them and took a few cautious steps without the aide of the horse. The ground had ceased to move, but her legs felt rubbery, and her stomach was still weak.
Prince Mikhail bent down to pick her up, but she was ready for him and dodged his arms clinging to the horse.
"No!" she hissed. "Don't touch me! I will walk on my own two feet, and I require no assistance from you!"
"Princess, the courtyard alone is wider than than the battlefield at Dreyva," Ilya explained. "And we'll have to pass through three smaller palaces before we reach the Emperor's inner court. It's quite a ways, and you're in no condition to-"
"Don't tell me what MY condition is, dog. I am a Princess of the House of Eosin and the ruler of Vezda, and I will stand before the Demon Emperor of this war-mongering empire on my own feet!" she snarled.
"Right. Well... if she's going to walk there with no assistance, my Prince, may I suggest that we go to the bathouse and perhaps even have a meal? We should be back in time to meet her at the other end of the courtyard. We might even make it to see the Emperor by tomorrow morning."
"It is your fault if I am weak and slow!" she spat.
"No princess, it is completely your fault. You decided to-"
"You chose poison that would weaken but not kill me because you knew the Emperor would break the treaty and take me prisoner!" she accused.
"Enough," Prince Mikhail interrupted. "Guard! Bring a chair for the Princess of Vezda!"
A chair was quickly found and brought at his command, but Talia would not sit. She continued to stagger slowly forward, crossing the courtyard foot by painfully slow foot, while two guards carrying an empty chair followed behind her.
Prince Mikhail and his aide remained standing inside the arched entryway to the grand courtyard and watched her slow progress.
"This is ridiculous," Ilya grumbled.
"She has lost much. It causes her to hold tightly to her pride," Mikhail muttered. "Wait only until she reaches the first stairway. She will sit."
"I would not stake my wage on it. I think she'll crawl on her hands and knees up those steps before she sits. It was you who ordered her to sit, after all. I think she'll crawl before she obeys an order from you," Ilya smirked.
"She'll sit," he repeated.
"Perhaps you are correct. I half-expected to be greeted as traitors and arrested immediately upon reaching Torobirk, and yet here we are. I don't suppose you've already determined what our next steps should be?" Ilya frowned.
"Not yet," Mikhail admitted. "We cannot send her to Frem now. It is clear that the Emperor has not given up on the Oracle's prophecy. He remains obsessed with House Eosin. I will try to bring her to Bludston, perhaps as time passes..."
"The Emperor will forget she exists?" Ilya guessed. "Not likely."
"Perhaps not," Mikhail frowned, "but it buys me time to find another way..."
"It also buys you time with the only woman you've ever seemed to notice... in your own home, at that," Ilya slyly noted.
Prince Mikhail slowly turned to fix Ilya with a freezing stare, which would have made lesser men tremble. Ilya did not deign to notice.
"Uh-oh! She's down!" Ilya pointed.
Upon reaching the stairway, the Princess had tripped over her heavy skirts and pitched forward, head first. She was now bleeding from her nose.
Ilya started forward, but Mikhail stopped him by grabbing his arm.
"Wait," he cautioned.
As they watched, Talia pinched her nose to stem the flow of blood and climbed to her feet. She glanced again at the stairs and then at the chair.
"She sits!" Ilya said and chuckled.
"Yes," Mikhail agreed. "Now, let us meet the emperor."