The Curse of Thir
Chapter 13

Xylee sat in waist high hot water, her legs where stretched out in front of her with room to spare. The washroom was sparse of decoration but, it held magnificent, clean objects and was also the only room with candles. The tub was rectangular and heated up with a small lever, more of that stormy smell wafted into Xylees’ nostrils. It was magic, used for bathing, and opening gates. She was so in awe of this amazing washroom she forgot to wash, she merely sat in the hot water and looked about.

There was a knock at the door. Xylee jumped a little, then watching as water splashed onto the floor.

“Are you all right in there?” Naveen stood outside. “Did you need help with something?”

“PRINCESS! You must not wash others, especially not demons!”

“Oh shut it Francis!” Naveen hissed at Francis. “Xylee?”

“What... oh I’m sorry Princ- Naveen.”

“Don’t apologies for everything. Are you done perhaps?”

“.... no... I’ve been staring at things, I’ll get done now. Sorry.”

She took a soapy cloth and proceeded to wash herself quickly with the rose scented water. This was the first time she had had a bath tub filled with hot water to wash in, it was quite something to experience. Something cold hit her bare chest; she looked down and saw the yellow stone blinking back at her. Shivering from the memory she hurried out of the bath. The clothes she had been wearing had been begrudgingly taken away, at arm’s length, by Lady Francis, who went on about how she would need to disinfect her arms and the bath, but would never feel clean again as long as she lived. So she stood warm in the stem but with nothing to dress in. Carefully she opened the door, her sodden golden brown hair dripping the floor wet. Naveen sat on the edge of Francis bed, with Francis hovering in the door way ready to pounce on her corner should anything happen. Naveen looked towards Xylee but quickly turned her head, blushing, Francis mumbled something about how rude it was to expose oneself to a person of the royal family.

“.... I.... didn’t have anything to put on, sorry.” Her face reverted to the normal emotionless expression she had found many years of safety in.

“There’s a towel for you to dry and cover yourself with in the washroom...” Naveen stared out of the window.

“....towel?” Xylee began to shiver even though she was still warm.

“Francis, are there towels in the washroom?”

“Yes Princess there are towels, this beast is just uncivilised.”

“Don’t say such awful things about Xylee.” She got up and went into the washroom, coming back out with a fluffy piece of cloth and handed it to Xylee.

“Here...”

Xylee stood with the cloth in her hands; she twisted it about but saw no holes for her head, arms or legs.

“How do you wear this?” The Princess held back laughter and continued on to explain that towels were not to wear but to dry with. The concept was foreign to Xylee, who only cleaned herself out of necessity and when she did dressed immediately after and allowed the day to progress with a damp body, but she dried herself, in front of Naveen and Francis, to the best of her knowledge and handed the towel back.

“You’re not very shy are you?” Naveen dropped the damp towel in the washroom and faced the door way. “Your clothes are there on the bed. I hope they fit.”

Being shy had never been an option for Xylee. She had figured it to be a luxury of those who did not constantly live in fear, if you desperately required something and the only means by which to obtain it showed you in a less than respectable manner, you couldn’t afford to worry about how you looked. A dark purple shirt with the kings’ symbol stitched on it, a white under shirt and an odd looking wire contraption, sat next to black tights, looser looking black slacks and brown boots. She put the tights on first and then the white shirt, picking up the wiry looking top she held it to her body. Although the contraption was a foreign thing, Xylee refused to show anymore incompetence in the matters of what seemed normal to these humans. Lady Francis scoffed at Xylee. Her lack of knowledge was plain to view it seemed.

“Oh come now Francis, perhaps she’s never seen a corset before.” Xylee mentally stored the word for later use.

“Well, you have to put it on underneath that white top you just put on,” Naveen held the corset for her as she removed the white shirt. “You then have to put the cup looking objects at the front, you know... for obvious reasons,” she cleared her throat, “and then clip yourself up at the back.” Xylee did as instructed but found the task of clipping this thing with her arms behind her back nearly impossible.

“Here I’ll help you.” Naveen handed the under shirt to Francis who loudly complained. “It’s simple once you get use to it, but I’ll help you until you get it right. There. Done.” Xylee found herself constricted in all possible directions; also she found she had to stand a bit straighter in order to feel comfortable. What sort of torture device was this?

“It might be a bit uncomfortable.... but you’ll get use to it. I did.” The princess wore this too? Humans where odd and did so many stupid and uncomfortable things. Naveen smiled sincerely and retrieved the white under shirt handing it back to Xylee.

“There are probably going to be a lot of things you’ll need to get use to while living here.” Xylee pulled on the black slacks and purple shirt, the boots where fitted and she found they formed perfectly to her feet.

“There, you look lovely and far more comfortable... aside from the corset which probably isn’t that comfortable.” The Princess noted that Xylees hair was still incredibly wet, which, she thought might end up making her sick, so she went back into the washroom for another towel. She sat on the bed and motioned for Xylee to sit on the floor in front of her.

“Just face your back to me.” She then proceeded to dry the ends of Xylees hair, working her way up to the base of her horns where she stopped and examined them. All the while Francis fought two urges within herself, fear for herself and fear for her job. Xylee had never had anybody dry her hair, and it was a surprisingly enjoyable feeling, although it did terrify her to have someone so close at the same time.

“Do... they hurt?” Naveen touched the sharpest point of Xylees horns, they felt hard.

“Does what hurt Princess Naveen?”

“Your horns... do they hurt?”

“No they don’t hurt, there’re just horns.”

“Oh... could I brush your hair then?”

“...if that is what you wish then yes.” What on Thir were these strange things the princess wanted to do? She wasn’t a horse that required grooming.

“Princess....” Francis began a sentence but decided against it, choosing to go along with the princesses craze whim “...should I get the brush then?”

“Yes, thank you Francis.” Naveen held Xylees hair with admiration. “You have such lovely hair, has it always been this colour?”

“I think so. I haven’t taken much note of it.”

“Well its lovely,” Naveen was handed the brush and began brushing softly around her horns, “It must be a little awkward brushing your hair at times.”

“I don’t... brush... my hair Princess Naveen.”

“Just call me Naveen please,” the brush knocked against one Xylees horns, “I’m so sorry! Did I hurt you?” She held the brush away from Xylees head.

“No it didn’t hurt, it just felt loud.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t brush your hair, encase I do hurt you.” Xylee twisted about and stared at the Princess with a blank expression.

“I don’t think you should be worried about hurting me with a piece of wood and bristles.” Why had she just said that, she was completely out of line with that cheeky comment, she was bound to be punished.

“You’re right, I’m sorry Xylee.” The princess looked down and fiddled with the bristles, “May I continue then?” Xylee nodded nervously and Naveen continued brushing.

“... Did you have friends at the Dreag compound?”

“I don’t have friends.”

“We have a lot in common then.”

“But you’re human? Aren’t humans pack orientated?”

“Just because I’m human, Xylee does not mean I have friends, or a pack... We’re not wolves.” Francis huffed at Xylees unintended insult.

“What was it like living there?”

“I cannot answer, I have nothing to compare it with.”

“Oh.”

They were silent until Naveen took a wooden clip from her hair and fastened it to Xylee.

“Would you like to see the rest of the castle Xylee?”

“If that is what you wish Princess Naveen then yes.”

Naveen slipped out from behind Xylees’ back and stood up. Looking down as Xylee got up from the floor, she noted that Xylee had begun to behave like all the other people she had been surrounded by in her life, polite, indifferent and quick to comply. It saddened her, seeing as she had hoped it would be different.

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It had been almost two hours since Naveen had taken Xylee on a tour of the castle; they had stopped at almost every painting, sculpture and rug so that the Princess could explain its history and origins.

Lady Francis lagged behind with waning enthusiasm only to be flanked by the two guards who had been instructed to keep an eye on the castles new guest. Naveen had found this infuriating at first but eventually ended up ignoring them as she seemed more entertained by the idea of having someone to show around.

“...and this here...” She motioned towards a door that smelt of bread, meat and fresh fruits, “is the kitchen! I saved this for last because I thought we might be hungry after such a trek about the castle, and I know I’m famished! Are you hungry Xylee?”

“I am a bit hungry, Princess Naveen.” Xylees monotone responses hit a nerve with the princess, but she refused to let it show. She was adamant they would become friends, they had too.

“Well then let us enter, I’m sure the chief won’t mind us having a snack or two, and yes Lady Francis, you may join in too.” She pushed open the door and was greeted by a flurry of activity, all in the preparation for dinner.

Xylee may have drooled a little at the amount of food, but she did not let it show. The kitchen could have fit at least halve of the Dreag compound and its inhabitants, and there might still be space to move around and cook. It was truly a marvellous spectacle to behold, white and red clothed bodies flew about, chopping and dicing, dodging and weaving.

“This kitchen supplies all of the meals in the stronghold, so this is the busiest place in the entire kingdom, seeing as men always seem to be hungry.” Naveen stood next to Xylee and explained the different sections to her.

The scent of an electrical storm was present strongly here. More magic, this time to cook with, was everybody in this stronghold a wizard or witch? A few of the kitchen hands closest to the door began to notice the princess and her companion, and slowed down to openly stare. The head chief, a man with broad shoulders and a commanders presence was about to shout at them when he noticed the princess.

“AH PRINCESS! You are as lovely as a flower in spring... you grace me with your presence.” He tramped through the stationary bodies of those staring at Xylee. “What is this then?” He stopped, stared and sniffed the air around Xylee. “Princess you know we do not allow demons or pets, or demon pets in our kitchen. The food might get contaminated, no matter how rosy they may smell.” He smiled and yelled at motionless kitchen hands.

“If it is food you require then you need only send word, and it shall arrive with haste to where ever you may be.”

“Oh I know that Sir Hasst, you are an incredible magician with food and time. But I was outside of your door when a hunger so great washed over me, I have been walking about showing my new friend the wonders of the castle, and is your kitchen not the most wonderful thing about it? So how could I not enter your domain?”

“Princess Naveen, you flatter me, and an old man can only wish. But as you can see, this thing is distracting my workers, and men cannot go hungry because of a distraction. So if you’d please tell me what it is you would like, I’ll have it sent to your room. Although supper will be ready soon, if they ever quit their gawking. Chop those damn onions women!! Excuse my manners Princess.” He bowed in apology. Naveen dared not insult or correct Hasst in his kitchen or anywhere really, even if she did replace him rude, obnoxious and far too arrogant for his own good.

“Oh if you insist Sir Hasst, we shall take our leave then. But could you send up some fruit for myself and Xylee?” Naveen turned to her. “Is fruit good enough Xylee?”

Xylee who had been observing this conversation with interest nodded.

“Yes Princess Naveen, fruit will be fine.”

“Fruit it is then, I shall send a basket filled with fruity delights for My Princess and her pet.” He bowed again and smiled at Xylee. She had seen that smile before, it was untrustworthy, and similar to a distasteful smell.

They left the kitchen to its master and made their way back to Naveens room, all the while both Naveen and Francis complained. Francis about the fruit that was being sent, and that she would waste away to nothing if that was all she was to eat and Naveen complained about Sir Hassts’ attitude.

“He acts so high and mighty in his little room of food, he reminds me of a greedy pig, doesn’t he?” Xylee politely agreed as they walked. She believed she had almost gotten a hold of her bearings in the castle, mostly by smells. The softer the aroma the closer she was to the princes and her room, the more vibrant the smells the closer she was to the kitchen, if her nose tingled she was close to the large library Naveen had pointed out earlier. They had entered her room and the two guards silently placed themselves by her door when a need, Xylee would call it Mother Nature, made itself known. She shifted uncomfortably. Where exactly was she supposed to “go” if she wasn’t allowed outside, or given a bucket like in her cell?

Naveen continued with her rant about Hasst, calling him every known mean word.

“... I swear, if he wasn’t so good at running a kitchen that size I’d make sure he was thrown out of my home...” She noticed Xylee bouncing from foot to foot. “What’s wrong?”

“.... oh... umm.... I... need to... go... Princess.”

“Go? Go where?”

“... go... umm... Mother Nature.... go.”

“Oh.. Oh... Thir be dammed, I didn’t show you where the water closet was.”

“What would I do with a closet of water?”

Francis jeered from her corner, this time seated on a stool close to the new bed that had appeared.

“Uncivilised little wench.”