The kitchens - I

"And this," she pointed to another lady with red eyes, "is the mother of Bert. You know him, yes?" 

I nodded and smiled at the woman, "Yes, I do know him. How are you?" 

The woman chuckled and another meaning less conversation drawled on. 

There was a time when I would thrive on these conversations. When someone had a crown over their head, everyone wanted to talk to you. 

I was ready for all of their conversations. Some of them were trying to butter me up while the others were trying to put me down by taking up topics of trade and commerce thinking that I would have no knowledge about them. 

I did though. I was thankful to my mother for that. 

On the other hand, here, I was being introduced to people that were not of this world yet seemed to be. 

Everytime I would laugh and smile at someone genuinely, the red eyes would haunt me. 

The fact that in their golden goblets were the blood of people that have been killed for this.