Post by Talana Trakand on Feb 12, 2022 14:57:14 GMT
The weight of the crown seemed to grow with every passing year, changing Talana until she no longer recognised herself in the mirror. She could see the weariness in her eyes, feel the numbness in her mind when she tried to think of anything other than her family or her duties yet she could still remember the days when she visited the city in earnest. When she walked among her people and helped them with her husband then later, though less, with her children and it weighed heavily upon her that she could not offer them that any more. She felt completely out of touch within the echo chambers of the Palace, the lioness out of touch with her pride. She spent hours agonising over it when she should be planning various operations against the Dark Friends infesting Randland, particularly her home, and trying to bring her husband home from the Manethereni border. The longer they remained apart, and the longer Gareth went without his father, the more painful it all seemed to be and the crown seemed to grow heavier with every passing day.
Perched upon the edge of her seat Talana had retired for the day, dismissing her guards as she so often did when she bathed the Queen of Andor changed into a simple corsetted jacket, dark buckskin breeches which hugged her figure and a long grey cloak with a frayed hem. Upon closer inspection the fraying would be obviously fabricated to age a new garment and the breeches would be just a little too rich even for the great houses and yet she was not expecting anyone to look too closely. After all, where she was going there would be many merchants in their cups and gambling while gentle ladies spent time sipping wine and pretending they were above it all. She wrapped her hair up in a braid, mimicking the style of a Manethereni Aes Sedai she met in the Tower once, and removed all of the make-up her handmaidens had so diligently applied just hours before. She removed almost all of her jewellery, only continuing to wear the simple silver band given to her by Calyas, lest any of it reveal her true identity. She hoped, somewhat naively, that all of her efforts would help her to remain unnoticed as she wove a simple silver chair through her hair letting the opal drape against her forehead (further mimicking her fellow Blue Sister) and slowly rising from her seat. Not even her handmaidens knew her plans, at least she thought they did not, lest they reveal them to the guard who could and would ruin it all. She would spend a few hours among at least some of her people, away from her own words as they echoed around the palace so that she might learn how her people felt about everything. Whether they still loved her and her children, if she still had their confidence then her beloved son and daughter would remain safe within their borders. Or, as safe as royalty could be.
She slipped from her chambers via the servants tunnel, long thought sealed off after her grandmother’s rule though Elayne had surely used them as well, and down into the depths of the palace until she finally emerged through a small gate in the wall beneath one of the guard posts. She followed the curvature and remained within the shadows until finally she joined the small trickle of people going about their business in the palace’s shadow, she followed the road down feeling the thrill of it all in the pit of her stomach. Like a jolt of electricity. Soon she turned off the road and down into the Inner City proper where she soon found herself entering The Crown of Roses, her nose assaulted by the unfamiliar scents within and her smile, hidden beneath the deep cowl of her hood, crept up at the sounds of life and merriment. She made her way to the corner and ordered a simple wine when approached by a barmaid, watching people carefully and trying to listen through the cacophony of life as it mingled with the almost blissful sounds of the gleeman perched in the corner. She hoped that she could remain a while undetected and then return to her bed before the guards realised something was amiss or one of her handmaidens entered her chambers…
Perched upon the edge of her seat Talana had retired for the day, dismissing her guards as she so often did when she bathed the Queen of Andor changed into a simple corsetted jacket, dark buckskin breeches which hugged her figure and a long grey cloak with a frayed hem. Upon closer inspection the fraying would be obviously fabricated to age a new garment and the breeches would be just a little too rich even for the great houses and yet she was not expecting anyone to look too closely. After all, where she was going there would be many merchants in their cups and gambling while gentle ladies spent time sipping wine and pretending they were above it all. She wrapped her hair up in a braid, mimicking the style of a Manethereni Aes Sedai she met in the Tower once, and removed all of the make-up her handmaidens had so diligently applied just hours before. She removed almost all of her jewellery, only continuing to wear the simple silver band given to her by Calyas, lest any of it reveal her true identity. She hoped, somewhat naively, that all of her efforts would help her to remain unnoticed as she wove a simple silver chair through her hair letting the opal drape against her forehead (further mimicking her fellow Blue Sister) and slowly rising from her seat. Not even her handmaidens knew her plans, at least she thought they did not, lest they reveal them to the guard who could and would ruin it all. She would spend a few hours among at least some of her people, away from her own words as they echoed around the palace so that she might learn how her people felt about everything. Whether they still loved her and her children, if she still had their confidence then her beloved son and daughter would remain safe within their borders. Or, as safe as royalty could be.
She slipped from her chambers via the servants tunnel, long thought sealed off after her grandmother’s rule though Elayne had surely used them as well, and down into the depths of the palace until she finally emerged through a small gate in the wall beneath one of the guard posts. She followed the curvature and remained within the shadows until finally she joined the small trickle of people going about their business in the palace’s shadow, she followed the road down feeling the thrill of it all in the pit of her stomach. Like a jolt of electricity. Soon she turned off the road and down into the Inner City proper where she soon found herself entering The Crown of Roses, her nose assaulted by the unfamiliar scents within and her smile, hidden beneath the deep cowl of her hood, crept up at the sounds of life and merriment. She made her way to the corner and ordered a simple wine when approached by a barmaid, watching people carefully and trying to listen through the cacophony of life as it mingled with the almost blissful sounds of the gleeman perched in the corner. She hoped that she could remain a while undetected and then return to her bed before the guards realised something was amiss or one of her handmaidens entered her chambers…
