Chapter 61
Brigitte led her Queen into the jungle a little ways and sitting her down on a large tree root she checked her over for any injuries.
Her Queen was staring at a spot in the distance as though afraid of it.
"Your majesty, are you alright?" She asked gently.
"No Brigitte, I'm not." She whispered back. Her grey eyes whipped to look at hers then she stood and walked back in the direction of the stream.
Brigitte stayed in that spot for a few moments more, puzzling out her Queen's words. 'Did she have a bad dream?'
Still thinking of the dilemma she walked back through the trees.
Hydrangea changed into a new dress folding the other and planning to dry it some other time.
Her hands shook as she dressed behind a tree, her dead face still fresh in her mind.
In her mind's eye she watched again how the Sovereign rushed to find whomever called his name. 'It had been me.' She thought again, 'How had I died?' Her entire body chilled with the remembrance.
Inhaling a tremulous breath she finished dressing and put her somewhat damp hair into a simple plait.
She chanted the phrase in her mind, 'I won't be afraid, I won't be afraid, I won't be afraid…' over and over again but her body was still cold from the fear, and from the creek.
Climbing on the horse behind the Sovereign she questioned why he'd been so anxious to find her in the dream. She tried to figure it but her mind could not produce an answer.
They rode for days, camping every so often but they mostly trudged on always intent on keeping the creek in view.
After six days they finally arrived at the Guillermo Estuary.
Hydrangea's lips parted as she witnessed the massive sight.
'We'll definitely need a boat to cross this.' She thought as she saw the many boats going through the estuary and out to sea.
"We'll head to the docks and trade something for a boat." She said as though to herself.
"We won't trade, we'll commandeer." The Sovereign said from behind her on Helle.
Hydrangea sighed but remembered Ratri-kar's words. To trust him.
'How can I trust him when he's always doing such foolish things?' She asked frustratedly. 'And I'm supposed to protect him. What if he does something arrogant and foolish like he usually does and I have to protect him, or do I have to trust him?'
She wanted to pull her hair out from the contradicting messages.
They ventured down to where the ferries and were docked and could see people bustling about and being loaded onto the boats.
Looking at the far back of the wooden and stone patchwork dock they spotted soldiers.
"What do we do now, your majesty?" Brigitte whispered to her from their hiding place behind the tree line.
Hydrangea thought and quickly she communicated her plan.
"Brigitte, could I borrow your cloak?"
"Of course, your majesty." She said and undoing the clasp she handed to the Queen. Hydrangea looked at the Sovereign carefully.
He raised his eyebrows and asked, "What?" Feeling jittery under such focused scrutiny. He was used to women ogling him, even the maid did it sometimes, but the flower's eyes were… different.
"I don't suppose you could grow a beard in a few seconds, could you?" She asked finally.
He opened his mouth and scoffed, "No." He said sounding slightly upset.
He'd taken great pains to keep his face smooth over the past weeks painstakingly using his knife to cut away any stubble that tried to form. He wished for a mirror or even some fragrant oils to soothe his skin because it had become irritated.
"Hm, fine. Wear this and this." She said handing him articles of clothing.
Horrified at what was in his hands he met her eyes, "I am not wearing this."
She didn't try very hard to fight the smile that appeared on her peach, bow-shaped lips, "You will wear it, unless you want to swim across then you'll-"
"I'll wear it." He said hurriedly and cursed himself for it. He hadn't had a dream from Samadur in days but the thought of swimming, or even the act was impossible.
Both women stared at him as though he'd said something sacrilegious. Which he more or less had.
Walking some distance he undressed behind a tree and began to wear what the flower had told him to, cursing at his luck and circumstances all the while.
"Do you need help?" Her amused voice called.
"I've unlaced enough corsets to know how one is supposed to go on." He shouted back grimacing at his words.
He emerged from behind the tree and cursed once again, blaming Samadur and all of the other Primals he could name, not caring that they were real. They would understand his plight and hopefully have pity on him.
Walking to where the flower and maid stood he waited for them to take notice of him, not wanting to attract attention to himself in his diminished state.
The maid was the first who noticed him and she snorted and covered her mouth looking away. The flower, hearing this strange noise, turned and looked at him.
Her entire form erupted in laughter and she clutched her stomach as the mocking noise came from her mouth, it wasn't mocking though, it sounded rather merry and happy to him and a smile appeared on his face, he hid it.
"Oh, oh, my goodness. I can't-" She burst into more giggles and chortles at his expense. There was something very familiar about her eyes when she was laughing.
She put a hand to her chest and cleared her throat, "Ahem, I'm sorry," Her apology was not at all serious by the spurt of laughter that exited her mouth after her words, "Let's, let's uh get you all prettied up." She said happily.
He shivered in disgust at what was happening to him. Had he no honour? This was the lowest of lows. This was the most humiliating thing any man could experience. This was the peak of devastation. He thought dramatically.
Hydrangea walked over to him and draped a scarf over his head. He wished he could grow a beard in just a few seconds, he'd be willing to lose his smooth face.
After the scarf she ordered him to pinch his cheeks, "I will not." He said firmly. He would not.
He watched her roll her eyes and shrug. She seemed very relaxed at the moment. Was it because of his torment? He wondered as he tugged at the dress collar.
It wasn't a hideous dress and he would love to see it on either of the two women, anyone but him. The underdress was white and itchy, the overdress was black with patches of brown, also itchy.
The flower finished by putting a flower in his hair, making sure it was peeking out from underneath the scarf.
He smiled sarcastically at her and she just beamed back.
They walked onto the dock, the maid pulling a horse, her blonde hair lose over her shoulders. The flower was wearing the maid's dark coloured cloak with her black hair hidden and her face covered somewhat.
And he, he… he was wearing a dress, sauntering out into broad daylight for all to see.