“The
mosquitoes have been bad this year my lady.” A young woman looked up from where
she sat on the woven grass mats on the floor. She had been writing something on
a small desk that sat in front of her.
“Yuuka,”
the corners of her mouth pulled up in an ironic smile. “Truly,” She rubbed her
hands over her red spotted forearms loosely covered in large bell shaped
sleeves, “much worse than I have any recollection of. Your mother’s cream does
help with the itch.”
The
woman who had initiated the conversation smiled, careful not to show teeth, as
that was not done among the upper classes. The priestess was not of an upper
class, but she has the bearing of a princess. It was hard to believe that she
could have been an orphan before dedicating herself to the temple. She was a
tall young woman, with skin paler than that of anyone else in the city and hair
the color of ripe wheat. Though the priestess was not ugly, neither was she a
striking beauty; her strangeness made her beautiful in a city full of olive
skinned, black haired women.
There
were whispers that she was not human at all, but a halfblooded loai. Yuuka knew
better though; she had been the one to find the priestess washed up on the
beach, half drowned, among the ship’s debris and dead sailors. The shipwrecked orphan
girl who had been taken in by the High Priest of Maduve had grown into an
impressive young woman.
“I
will tell Mother you are grateful, Priestess.” Yuuka presented the young
priestess with a ceramic jar corked with wax.
“I
will always be grateful to you and your mother.” These seemed like simple words
of thanks, but Yuuka heard the weight behind them.
“It
was years ago, Priestess, no need to go reminding everyone of it. Besides it is
my mother’s job to save people’s lives. She says she has a duty to war with
Lord Death.”
She stood and turned to leave, stopping just
before reaching the door. “Is it too forward of me to ask if you’re still
getting flowers?”
The
priestess frowned. “I do not mind you asking, you are my friend, Yuuka.” She
sighed then answered, “My nighttime visitor prays on my mind.” While Yuuka was
glad to be called a friend by the priestess, she wondered if the woman had any
real friends, or only persons like herself who respected her but were too
intimidated by her to claim a relationship.
“It
has been innocent until now has it not? You’ve been getting them since spring,
so maybe it’s nothing to trouble yourself about. Has your father said anything?”
She asked referring to the high priest of Maduve who adopted the priestess
almost ten years ago.
“He
believes it to be one of the novices, perhaps a girl I was kind to. Only those
on official business, novices, and priests are allowed in this part of the
temple.”
“The
high priest is probably right. Don’t worry too much, you’ll make yourself sick
and get wrinkles.” Yuuka bowed humbly to the priestess before leaving and slid
the door closed behind her. Despite Yuuka’s words the priestess was concerned
about her nighttime visitor. Even if the intent was innocent, what type of
person would creep into a woman’s room under cover of darkness? She felt as if
her privacy had been invaded, and surely if it was a grateful novice as her
father had proposed, the flowers would have stopped appearing after a week or
more, it was now high summer and the blossoms were still beside her pillow
every morning.
