Episode 2

Tibora bowed her head just as she had been taught, the pitcher of water she held in her hands rested against her breasts. The Lady Empress bathed alone, her bathtub cut into the ground surrounded by crystals. As the sun hit its peak the crystals shimmered around the room. Unlike the rest of the palace, The Empress' quarters were extravagant to the point of gaudy. Where The Emperor had stone statues, The Empress had people posing for hours on end. The punishment for breaking her visual pleasure was a beating by the imperial guard. The gold paint used on their bodies was toxic and eventually killed each commoner only to be replaced by another.

A valet scurried into the room and kneeled so that he could whisper in the Lady Empress' ear.

"What do you mean he's not coming?" The Lady Empress stood, water sloshing down her body and back into the tub. "That is unacceptable." She stepped up onto the stairs built into the tub and held her arms out. Another ladymaid rushed to put a shimmering robe onto The Lady Empress, then maneuvered out of the way. She stalked out of the bathing room on bare feet, her robe trailing behind her. Two ladymaids struggled to keep up with their mistress.

Tibora waited until their footsteps faded before placing the jug of water on the floor. Her entire day consisted of holding that pitcher of fresh water and keeping it available for her monarch until the sun went down and she was sent to her quarters were Tibeden waited.

The day was far from over and Tibora was still replaying the encounter she had with that Butler. He had been handsome - so handsome that Tibora found herself debating on leaving her post to locate him. Surely, he must still be in the palace after delivering his message to Galora. The fear of being beaten won out and Tibora stayed where she was.

Several housekeeping maids entered the bathing room and began to clean up the mess The Lady Empress had left in her wake. Yosefa, their manager, glanced at Tibora, exasperated.

"Can you not make yourself busy?" Yosefa's nose raised pushing her weak chin out in a small display of authority.

"Yes, mar'm." Tibora dipped her head lower and backed away until she was out of the bathing room. After the door clicked shut, Tibora backtracked to where she had seen the butler. She was not surprised to find that he was not there. Pursing her lips Tibora decided to return to her barracks where Tibeden waited. Leaving the royal suites, Tibora made her way to one of the servant exits near the kitchens. If she was lucky she would be able to grab some extra food for Tibeden. He would enjoy that.

A flash of grey from the corner of her eye stopped Tibora in her tracks. She approached the terrace, watching the pacing form of a distraught butler. The same butler she had been seeking a few moments before. He paced in long even strides. Each step commanding power and vibrating assurance. He was dressed impeccably in grey and white, his copper hair tied in a top bun. Not a single strand was out of place. Dust dared not marr his white gloves.

Clearing her throat, Tibora waited for the man to notice her. He was obviously Common born, but nothing - other than his coloring - said Commoner. The butler stopped mid pace and turned in a movement so fluid, Tibora stepped back twice.

"We meet again." He smiled, but his eyes remained troubled.

Tibora tried her best to meet his gaze, but she was not used to someone looking directly at her. Only two people had ever truly acknowledged her existence and both were children. Tibeden and Felicias. Yet this man saw her immediately.

"I must say, you are one with wit." The butler chuckled and Tibora giggled before stopping. She had never been one to enjoy a situation - what with life being constantly terrible.

"Would you mind following me?"

She nodded. Really, she would follow him to the end of the planet and off into the void of space if he so asked. He stepped up to her, his large body towering over her. Tibora waited for him to put his hands on her, almost every interaction she'd ever had with a man had gone this way. The butler gestured with one of his gloved hands to a servants secret passage. He reached around Tibora and slid open the entrance and she stepped through. His body heat filled up the small space surrounding her. The butler placed a hand above Tibora's hip and she flinched.

"Apologies. We're going straight, at the first availability turn right." His cheek rested against her face and Tibora shut her eyes. His skin was much smoother than her own, everything about him was another class. "Ma'rm."

"Tibora."

"Shall we be on our way, Tibora?"

"Yessir." Tibora walked tentatively through the pitch black hallways within the castle walls.

"Titen." The hand above her hip tightened. "My name is Titen."

"You would not happen to be Titen Moore?" Tibora was careful not to stumble. Focusing on speaking properly was exhausting. The imperial dialect had no flow. It was as harsh as its people.

"The one and only."

Turning right Tibora tried to recall the stories of Titen Moore. He had been a common boy adopted into a life of luxury. He had fooled everyone into believing he was imperial born. The man had even become a legend of Takturn. He had fought off the last rebellion from the pirates in the Grand Seas. However, word had spread through the commons when Tibora was a teenager that Titen Moore had been revealed and was executed.

"Left in ten paces, if you will."

Tibora turned left and stopped at a door. She held still as Titen Moore's ghost reached around her and opened the door to a room she had not known existed. The room held a bed big enough for three people. The walls were covered in pictures of fighters in different poses. She examined each wall and jumped at the sound of Titen locking the door.

"Are you a ghost?"

Titen pulled back the sheet covering the bed and revealed a comforter embroidered with a bright gold. He sat down and Tibora stopped so that she could enjoy his presence.

"I am not a ghost."

"But if you are Titen Moore, you are dead."

"Am I?" Titen quirked his full lips and Tibora began mentally tracing them. The man had been carved out of grace. "Do pray tell - how did I die?"

"Execution for lies to the court."

"Lies to the court... ahhh so they lopped off my head, did they?" Titen stood and began to unbutton his coat. Unsure what else to do Tibora sat down on the bed. He moved with such comfort that she began to suspect this was once his room. Once his jacket was off, he folded it neatly and laid it on a side table. Then he removed his undershirt setting it on top of his coat. Barechested Titen kneeled in front of Tibora and her breath stopped. He laid his head in her lap and rested his arms on either side of her thighs.

"Is there a scar from the blade?" He asked her, holding still.

Carefully, Tibora ran her hands over Titen's neck and discovered that he had no scars there. "Nay - none."

"Are there any other scars?" Titen straighten and then laid across Tibora's lap again so that his torso was draped across her. She ran her hands across his back and found hundreds of criss crossing scars overlapping each other.

"Many."

"Whip marks. From the Emperor himself."

A line that Tibora's grandfather used to say to her as a warning passed through her memory. "Cursed is he, who draws the single eye of a king."

Resting his weight on his heels, Titen ran his hands over his hair. He stood in one motion and returned to pacing.

"What ails you, sir?"

"Titen. Mine namen is Titen."

"What be breaking ye. Titen."

Titen Moore paused and his face contorted into one of distrust. Recognizing danger, Tibora dropped her gaze from his and waited for him to lash out.

"We share a secret, yes?"

"We do."

"Galora. She had a son?"

"Once. An Imperial Captain killed him."

"... and what if he was not dead?" Titen chewed on his bottom lip.

"Like you?" Tibora thought about how blessed the Moore line was. Not one, but two, were able to live an imperial life.

"Precisely."

"Felicias lives... I do not understand." Tibeden had wept in her arms the night they had taken Felicias away. Her poor son had felt powerless and done nothing.

"He has been granted a life much above any you can imagine for any Commoner." But Tibora could imagine it now. She could imagine her own son having servants - no - having meals. Full meals. Always.

"A life such that you were granted?"

"Yes... yes that is correct." Titen resumed pacing at a much more relaxed rate.

"What of Galora?"

"If she sees him, and she will, his life will be forfeit."

"Because she will reveal him, as you were revealed." And Tibora knew Galora would indeed reveal Felicias. She would probably want them to die together instead of letting him live a blessed life. Galora was selfish. She had always been so.

"I must stop her. I must speak with her."

"Galora is selfish. She will not understand." Tibora spoke her thoughts out loud and shut her mouth quickly.

"She will understand once I speak with her." Titen's train of thought had not halted at her negativity. He paced with more rigour. A man determined.

"What will you do if your words fall on deaf ears."

Finally, Titen Moore stopped his pacing and a shadow crossed his face contorting his features into that of pain. "Then I will snap her neck." A decision he did not want to make.

"The Prince Heir will have you tortured and then executed." The imperial family did not take kindly to their personal servants being murdered. Galora was a favorite of the Prince Heir and had been since she'd been chosen as a companion for him many years ago.

"It's a sacrifice I am willing to make."

"You for Felicias?" That did not sit right with Tibora. Titen was as a celestial being. She on the other hand was not.

"So it seems." Titen clasped his gloved hands in front of him, before turning to dress.

"If I speak to Galora first, she may be more willing to listen."

"Will she?"

"Yes." Tibora lied. Galora would never listen. She had never listened to anyone in her life. Unlike Titen, Galora's life of luxury had made her entitled. She would cause Felicias's death for sure. "Wait here, I don't believe you are supposed to be here."

"Can you find this room on your own?"

"Ay, I canen."

"Appreciated."

Tibora was about to leave the room but there was something else. "Titen?"

"Ay?"

"There is a boy by the name of Tibeden in the servants barracks. If for some strange reason I do not return - will you find someone to care for him?"

"You are just having a conversation with her, Tibora."

"Right... of course." Shutting the door, Tibora felt her way out of the servants tunnels. Emerging into the royal suites, Tibora tried to emulate Titen. She walked with purpose, her shoulders back and head held high. As she approached the guards protecting the Prince Heir's sleeping quarters, Tibora stopped. One of the Imperial guards cocked an eyebrow at her and Tibora waited patiently.

Shrugging the guards opened the doors for her and let her pass. As her heart beat wildly, Tibora stumbled on a broken vase. An image of a smiling Tibeden biting into the juicing flesh of an apple flashed in her mind. Bending down to pick up the shards she held still as the Prince Heir left his suites along with some of the empress's ladymaids. Exhaling her fear of getting caught, Tibora willed herself to relax.

Grabbing a jagged piece of porcelain, Tibora straightened herself and returned to searching for Galora. The demon-eyed servant was lounging in a bed grander than anything that had ever existed in the commons. Her silver hair spilled across the crisp white sheets.

"Tibora?" Galora seemed surprised, but not enough to sit up. "... bring me water, would you?" Her voice was soothing and bitterness punctured Tibora's heart.

"What would you do if Felicias lived?" Tibora advanced on Galora, the jagged piece of porcelain behind her back. Galora sat up enraged.

"Keep my son's name out of your mouth!" She slapped Tibora across her face,a loud crack echoing around them.

"What would you do? Would you let him live a happy and full life?" Tibora imagined if it was her Tibeden. He was a skinny boy, not in the lanky way, in the hungry way. She imagined how he would look with months of good food. She imagined him with full cheeks and muscles curling around his healthy bones. She pictured Tibeden playing with other children just as blessed as he. None burdened with any worry or shame.

"What is wrong with you? Does your ugliness infect your brain?" Galora let the sheet covering her drop as she slid off of the bed. "Are you infested with a sickness?"

"You would let him die - would you not?" Tibora gripped the broken vase shard tighter and she felt it slice into her skin.

"Yes!" Galora hissed. "There is no other place for Felicias than with his mother. You would say the same for your rat of a son."

"No..." Tibora shook her head violently. "No. If Tibeden had a chance at a different life I would let him go. That's what a mother wants. A mother wants better for her child."

"If you wanted so much better for him, you should have drowned him the day he took his first breath."

"Why are you so cruel? You are not one of them, Galora." But Tibora knew that didn't matter. Galora had always had money. She always had just enough to eat. She alone brought work to their village, the palace carts were guaranteed to return to them - because of Galora. "You are as Common as I." Pulling her hand back Tibora ignored Galora's widening eyes and she brought the shard of vase down onto her neck. Blood sprayed Tibora's face as Galora collapsed clutching her throat. Her mouth moved, but no words escaped. "Felicias lives. He lives a grand life... " In her heart, Tibora knew Titen was kind. He was kind and whole enough to find Tibeden and give him a permanent life in the Imperial City. Her son would never feel hungry again.

Tibora did not see who screamed, she was busy watching the blood flow out of Galora's neck. As the guards rushed in, Tibora pulled at the broken porcelain, twisting her wrist to plunge it into her own heart. She dropped to her knees, and then her side. A crowd rushed in, filling the rooms with voices and panic. At the very back Tibora saw Titen Moore, his eyes meeting hers before her world went black.