Honor

After the Queen's departure, the Bedni boys and girls filed back into the chambers, their hushed whispers filling the air. They exchanged wide-eyed glances, clearly taken aback by what had just transpired.

"Did you see that?" one of the younger girls murmured, her voice a mix of awe and trepidation. "The Queen herself, in here!"

A lanky boy nodded vigorously. "And her dress! It was dripping when she left, like she'd waded right into the basin."

The chatter continued as they resumed their positions around Marius, who remained motionless in the water, his mind reeling from the encounter. Two of the older Bedni children, a boy and a girl, picked up their discarded sponges and approached him cautiously.

"What did you do to get Her Majesty so riled up?" the girl asked, her tone a mixture of curiosity and concern. She began to scrub Marius's back, her movements gentle but efficient. "And why would she step into your basin? Does she want to keep you as a Bedni in her court? I can't even be jealous of you. You will walking on eggshells all your life if that happens."

The boy chimed in, his voice lowered conspiratorially, "She's taken an interest in you, that's for sure. And like this? She must really want a pound of flesh."

Marius remained silent, his eyes unfocused as he stared at the rippling milky water. His mind raced, trying to piece together what could have possibly drawn the Queen's ire. What had his family done to deserve this? The weight of uncertainty pressed down on him, making it hard to breathe.

He had been fine with being dead just a moment ago. He hadn't been asked to be saved by the Prince. Not if being alive cost so much.

The Bedni children exchanged worried glances over Marius's head, unused to such stillness from their charges. Usually, there was at least some protest or conversation during the cleaning process.

"Stand up, please," the older girl requested softly, breaking the tense silence.

Marius complied mechanically, rising from the basin as water cascaded down his body. The cool air hit his skin, raising goosebumps along his arms and chest. He barely registered the fresh, scented water being poured over him, rinsing away the last of the soap.

"Step out now," another Bedni instructed, holding out a soft rag for Marius to dry himself.

As Marius took the cloth and began to wipe down his body, his movements were slow and distracted. The Bednis watched him, some curious and some concerned, unused to seeing someone so deeply affected by a royal encounter.

"You know," one of the younger boys piped up, unable to contain his curiosity any longer, "I've never seen the Queen come down here before. Not once in all my years of service."

An older girl shushed him quickly, casting a worried glance at Marius. "Hush now. It's not our place to speculate."

But the damage was done. Marius's hand stilled, the rag clutched tightly in his fist. The reality of his situation crashed over him anew. This wasn't just an unusual occurrence - it was unprecedented. And that knowledge only deepened the pit of dread in his stomach.

As he finished drying off, Marius couldn't shake the feeling that he was standing on the edge of a precipice.

The Queen had said it. She wanted him dead. And her decision to keep him in her quarters was to ensure it.

As Marius stood there, still damp and vulnerable, another Bedni approached with a folded violet garment draped over their arms. Marius reached out to take it, his fingers trembling slightly as they brushed against the soft fabric.

He recognized it. A Toga.

"Um," he stammered, his cheeks flushing, "will I be getting any... underwear?"

The question hung in the air for a moment before the chamber erupted in laughter. The Bednis giggled and snickered, some covering their mouths in an attempt to stifle their amusement.

"Oh, honey," one of the older girls said, wiping a tear from her eye, "No Bedni wears underwear. That's just not how it's done here."

Marius's blush deepened, spreading down his neck. "But... but that's a stain on my honor," he protested weakly, his voice barely above a whisper.

The laughter died down as the head Bedni, Lyra, the stern-looking woman with graying hair, strode purposefully towards Marius. Without a word, she snatched the violet garment from his hands, her movements efficient and practiced.

"The honor of a Bedni," she declared, her voice firm but not unkind, "is their accessibility." She began to dress Marius, her hands moving with swift precision. "But don't you worry, child. You're what, seventeen?"

Marius nodded mutely, still processing her words.

"You'll be in the Queen's quarters for months," she continued, adjusting the garment around his shoulders. "As long as you're not in the wrong place at the wrong time, or if someone from the royal house doesn't claim you, you'll be just fine."

Her words, meant to be reassuring, sent a chill down Marius's spine. The implication of what could happen if he wasn't "fine" hung heavy in the air.

The head Bedni stepped back, giving Marius a once-over before nodding in satisfaction. She turned to the group of Bedni children who had washed him earlier. "Take the Omega to his room for tonight," she instructed. "When dawn breaks, take him to the Queen's quarters, just as Her Majesty ordered."

As the small group led Marius out of the bathing chamber, he couldn't help but feel like a lamb being led to slaughter. The corridors they traversed were dimly lit, the stone walls seeming to close in around him with each step.

One of the older Bedni boys, noticing Marius's distress, attempted to lighten the mood. "Hey, it's not all bad," he said, nudging Marius gently. "The Queen's quarters are the nicest in the palace. You'll be living in luxury compared to the rest of us."

A girl chimed in, her voice hushed but excited. "I heard they have silk sheets and feather pillows. And the food! Oh, the food is supposed to be amazing."

Marius managed a weak smile, appreciating their attempts to cheer him up. But their words only served to highlight how different his world had become in such a short time. Hours ago, he had been at home with his family, living a simple life. The son of a Duke. Now, he was being led through the palace as a Bedni, his future uncertain and potentially dangerous.

When they approached a small, unassuming door, one of the Bedni girls stepped forward. "This will be your room," she explained, pushing the door open. "It's not much, but it's private. That's more than most of us get."

Marius stepped inside, taking in the sparse furnishings. A narrow bed, a small table with a wash basin, and a tiny window high up on the wall. It was indeed private, but it felt more like a cell than a room.

"Try to get some rest," the older boy advised, his tone sympathetic. "We'll come for you at dawn. It's... it's going to be a long day."

The moment the door closed behind them, leaving Marius alone in his new quarters, the reality of his situation truly began to sink in. He sank onto the bed, the violet garment rustling softly. Questions from before swirled in his mind: What had his father done that was so bad? What would the woman achieve from torturing him? And most pressingly, Marius wondered if his family found peace in the glass river. Was the other side a better place where ranks didn't matter?

Marius lay back on the bed, staring up at the stone ceiling. Sleep seemed impossible, but he knew he needed to rest. Whatever tomorrow would bring, he would need all his strength to face it.

When the silence of the room settled around him, Marius felt the last of his composure crumble. The tears he'd been holding back all day finally broke free, streaming down his cheeks in hot, silent rivulets. His chest heaved with silent sobs as he curled onto his side, drawing his knees up to his chest.

Images of his family flashed through his mind - his father's stern but loving face and his mother's gentle smile. Had they really found peace in the glass river? Or was that just a comforting lie told to ease the pain of loss?

Marius buried his face in the thin pillow, muffling his cries. His fingers clutched at the violet garment, twisting the fabric as if it could somehow anchor him in this strange new reality. The tears seemed endless, born from a well of fear, confusion, and overwhelming grief.

As the night wore on, Marius's sobs gradually quieted, replaced by occasional hitched breaths and sniffles. Exhaustion began to set in, his body and mind drained from the emotional outpouring. His eyes, red and swollen, finally began to drift closed, sleep offering a temporary respite from the hell of his waking thoughts.