Jade Prophecy

The peasants clambered at the door, anxious either to get away from the flying lizards or to have their future told, but Murdak, Refuge Of The Helpless, ignored them. She didn't feel like helping anyone tonight.

Then there came a heavy, royal knock on the door. Murdak, the All-Knowing wondered who it was, then recognized the king's face through the window. She hurried to dress herself before opening the door, smiling at His Grace and his infant daughter and bidding them enter.

"Murdak, Giver of Fortunes, I have come for you to tell my daughter's future," said the king. Murdak noticed the signs of heavy grieving on his Majesty's face and mourned that the king had paid such a price for his princess.

"Of course, Sire. If you will give the child to me, I will read her face for signs." The king reluctantly handed his daughter over. The old woman bent over the child, who had begun to cry, whispering soothing words and studying her small hands and face.

"You wish me to christen her, Your Majesty?" Murdak asked. The king nodded. "Her name, Sire?"

"Irielia."

Murdak held the child above her head and whispered sacred words, then said "I christen thee Jade Irielia."

She lowered the princess and handed her back to her father.

"Your Majesty," she said. "I see your daughter in a marriage that will secure your legacy and end the reign of the flying lizards." Murdak could see the king objected to her choice of words, but knew that he wouldn't voice it; she was the only prophet in the kingdom, and as such, invaluable.

"A marriage? Whom shall she wed?" The king looked down at the infant in his arms and sighed. Her emerald-green eyes reminded him of his wife.

"A prince - the prince of Durrièl."

*****

Princess Jade Irielia glared at her father, and at the band of gold with the ancestor's jewel that he wore on his head - the jewel that she had been named for, after the custom of royal daughters.

"But Father, I'm not ready to marry. Mother didn't wed you until she was 18." She wanted to marry - Venus knew she wanted to marry - but not yet. She wasn't ready.

"Irielia." The king didn't like discussing his late wife, though the loss was 16 years old.

"Father, I will wed when I find the one whom I love." She knew it was pointless, but somewhere inside her their was hope that perhaps he would ignore the prophecy, for her sake.

"Jade Irielia, you know what the prophecy states. Now retire to your room and prepare for the ball." Irielia scurried away to her bedroom.

She called her lady's maid, Celene, who began dressing her mistress in front of the mirror.

"Celene, my father tells me that I will meet my future husband, the Durrièllian prince, at this ball. He tells me that we will be wed by March." 1 month. Irielia tried to say it carelessly, but Celene knew her too well.

"Perhaps he will not be as the stories tell, Your Highness." Celene tried make her lady see the bright side. "Surely not all of the Durrièllian princes are as arrogant and loud as they are believed to be."

She was careful not to mention that the kingdom needed the marriage; she knew the dislike the princess and His Majesty had for the prophecy that forbade Irielia from fulfilling her dream of loving and wedding a worthy man.

"But Celene, what if I don't love him? What if I don't even like him?" Irielia said, turning sideways so that Celene could adjust a strap of her pale green dress.

"You will, My Lady, you will. Venus would not be so cruel as to deny you that."

"Juno might," Irielia grumbled. The goddess of marriage could be cruel sometimes.

"Your Highness, think of all of the suitors who wish to wed you. They will cease to annoy you once you are another man's property." Celene tried a different approach.

"They don't want to wed me, Celene. They want to wed my wealth. But that's not the point." The princess became less formal as she grew more annoyed. "And I'll have to learn more Durrièllian. It would be too much to expect the prince to know Floran."

There was silence as Celene finished the adjustments on Her Lady's modest dress (it was the kingdom's custom for women to dress modestly until their marriage. Once married, they could be more lenient with their choice of dress with no fear of undesirable attention.)

"Must I wear it?" Irielia said when Celene handed her the jewel-encrusted gold band that denoted her role as princess. Celene paid no attention; it was Irielia's duty to wear it, and the princess knew it.

"You look beautiful, Your Highness." Irielia smiled at her maid, and left the room.

The ball had begun, and the princess had to take the servant's stairs to avoid the groups of people that were flooding in. She curved round the edge of the palace and arrived at the ballroom without being addressed.

Taking a deep breath to prepare herself for the part, she entered.

"Princess Jade Irielia of Flora," the doorman announced. Irielia smiled slowly, waved gracefully, and tried to hide herself in the corner of the ballroom to get out of the spotlight.

Edging behind a large group of nobles and trying to get out of sight as quickly as she could, she bumped into someone. Her royal training told her to look the obstacle in the eyes and lift her head, but her instinct and natural nervousness told her to apologize.

"I'm so sorry," she said, turning round to see the obstacle. A clean-shaven young man in a dark costume faced her, smiling anxiously as if silently apologizing. Irielia felt pressured to introduce herself, and heartily wished she hadn't bumped into him.

"Princess Jade Irielia." She curtseyed, waiting for his name. He continued to smile at her, bowed, then spoke.

"Yuseiduni muqabalatuk ya 'amira." Irielia recognized the language as Durrièllian, and groaned inwardly. If only I could just walk away. But it was her duty to entertain the guests, so she stayed, as no-one else seemed to be interested in this particular guest.

"I am sorry, I do not speak Durrièllian," she said slowly in her own language, hoping he understood. He just smiled.

"Jade Irielia," she pointed to herself, then pointed to him. "Name?"

"Al asm," came the answer, and Irielia could just translate it. No name. She smiled at him, thinking she had misheard, but he wasn't looking at her. He was looking around the ballroom as if searching for someone, and that reminded her that there was a special guest she was supposed to be entertaining.

"Forgive me," she said, momentarily forgetting that he didn't speak Floran, " I must attend to another guest."

She drifted away before remembering, and looked back to apologize, but he had gone. Shrugging to herself, she moved on to find her father.

When she found him, he was talking to an large man with a laughing face and grey hairs on his long beard. Irielia reached him, and sunk into a low curtsey. "Your Majesty."

The king watched his daughter, admiring the ease and grace of the curtsey before bowing and saying "Your Highness."

Formalities over, he introduced his companion to the princess. "Khaliph Abdi, this is my daughter, Princess Jade Irielia. Princess, Khaliph Abdi of Durrièl."

The Khaliph smiled at Irielia, then frowned. "Ly 'amira - my Princess, I regret to bear the sad news that my son is unable to attend this wonderful ball. He has received injuries from defending his mother, the Khalipha, and I from an attack of the flying lizards, and is unable to come. He deeply mourns his absence and declares that once he has met you, he will shout his love from the palace roof."

The Khaliph kept eye contact with Irielia throughout the speech and burst into loud laughter when he saw her reaction to his last words.

"I am sorry Your Highness, I did not mean it. I invented it because you and your beautiful father seem too serious," he explained, and Irielia smiled.

Her feelings were conflicted - relief that the marriage would be delayed, apprehension that she had to wait for longer to see the man she would be tied to, and a little hope that her future husband wouldn't be as bad as he had been preparing for. She found that she liked this Khaliph.

"You are right, Khaliph, Florans take life too seriously," she agreed, not deserting her smile. "I am sad that I cannot meet my betrothed, but perhaps it is best that for now we deal only with guests who don't embarrass my royal father with shouting from his roof."

The Khaliph walked off to talk to a beautiful woman in a light headscarf whom Irielia presumed to be his wife, leaving the princess and her father together.

The king smiled at his daughter and edged closer to her. "That gives me a few more days with you." Irielia smiled back at him.

"No, it gives me a few more days with you." Neither of them wanted to admit how much those few days would mean to them; at least for Irielia, she would have company (company that she now wasn't sure if she wanted or not).

The princess looked over to the band beginning to play their country's traditional waltz. She moved to the dance floor and waited for the music to kick in before starting to dance.

Fumbling and jumping over the floor, Irielia didn't care about the many onlooking nobles laughing down their sleeves at her performance. The music flowed through her, and she danced the way it made her feel.

As it finished, she spun and spun and looked around her for the mysterious 'Al Asm'. He wasn't there. Oblivious to the outwardly respectful guests and her father who was watching indulgently from a distance, she encouraged the band to play the waltz again, louder.

She danced once more, paying special attention this time not to stumble, trying to leap and land gracefully. As she did so, she looked around her again. He still wasn't there.

One week later...

"Celene, what do I do if he still is not coming?" asked the princess.

Celene laid the silk gown and jade band on Irielia's bedside table gently before answering. "I'm sure you managed last time, My Lady."

Irielia sighed. She took off her palace clothes and waited for Celene to dress her. At least I won't be bored entertaining only one guest, she thought.

Once she had dressed, she left the room and took the servant's stairs again to avoid attention. There were more people at this ball than the last; word had got round that the prince's visit had been delayed, which made the public more interesting in seeing him.

"Princess Jade Irielia," the doorman announced. Irielia was getting tired of the same announcement every time she entered a room, the same people waiting for her (they weren't always the exact same people, but they did the same bowing, curtseying and respectful smiling). Once again, she waved, smiled, and tried hiding. This time she avoided bumping into anyone.

She watched her father from the corner of the ballroom, until she heard a voice behind her. "Amira."

Irielia whirled around to see the dark-costumed man again. "Al Asm." She smiled.

The man bowed and smiled back at her. "Yuseiduni muqabalatuk maratan 'ukhraa ya 'amirati," he said. She smiled awkwardly - he had forgotten that she didn't speak his language.

A foreign noble approached Irielia and bowed.

"Do I have the honour of addressing Princess Jade Irielia of Flora?" He asked. Irielia curtseyed in return, and he continued. "My Lady, Prince Ayadul of Durrièl much regrets being unable to meet you yet again. He is unfortunately still immobile from his defense against the flying lizards last week." He bowed again and looking at her without straightening himself, waiting for an answer.

"Please tell him I also regret the delay, and give him my wish for a swift recovery." The nobleman nodded and departed to talk to someone he recognized.

Irielia turned back to her companion and smiled an apology for the interruption. He smiled back, then shrank away. Irielia whirled around and saw a large group of Floran women sauntering over to them. She turned away from them and stopped. 'Al Asm' had disappeared.

"Princess Jade, how do you do?" She turned to face the ladies who were clustering around her, and tried to smile gracefully at them as they curtseyed.

"Aya, Leyphie, Vila, Rileen, how do you do?" She greeted them each by name, thankful for the lessons on memory her father had given her.

They circled her, gushing and chattering, sharing general gossip and desperate for something new from the palace. They knew more about the palace activity than she did herself; Has Bessie the under-kitchen maid run off with her young man yet? they asked, or has she chosen the other young rascal that used to run around her like a lovesick puppy?

Subtle hints and smothered giggles were their game, and Irielia just managed to keep them off with diplomatic answers that would really mean nothing if they thought hard enough.

When the ball ended, she was only too glad to rush away to her room, and the company of her quiet, straightforward Celene. She breathed a sigh of relief and wondered when she would see Al Asm again.

To Be Continued...