Hello darlings, thank you all very much for your thoughts about the story and for hitting "like"! Big hugs! Chapter eight is below. :)
Chapter Eight
"Sire, you simply are no fun any more." A courtesan, wearing an olive green gown and a sullen pout, stood before Maan in his bedchamber.
Maan folded his arms across his chest and searched for an answer. He had been turning away courtesans every night now, and he simply could not pinpoint why.
"Is it your new mistress?" the courtesan asked. "Miss Geet?"
"She's not my mistress," Maan snapped. He let his arms fall to his side, recalling dinner from earlier that evening. After he and Geet had left the playroom, they had settled down for an elegant supper with Adi and Pinky. Geet had, to the surprise of all, spent the better part of the meal chattering with delight as she recounted her time with the children that day. "I just knew you would love helping in the playroom," Adi had said, clearly satisfied with his prediction.
"If she's not your mistress, then what is the problem?" the courtesan demanded.
Maan cocked an eyebrow at her tone. "Have you forgotten to whom you are speaking?"
The courtesan blushed, immediately subdued. "No," she replied quietly.
"I suggest you leave," said Maan, cinching his robe around his waist. He watched the courtesan waltz silently across the room, head held high, letting herself out. He recalled the countless nights of merrymaking in which he had indulged in the past. For some reason, however, he no longer seemed to maintain an appetite for random women.
---
"Where is Geet?" asked Maan, as he took a seat at the dining table at breakfast the next morning. Irritatingly, his first thoughts in the morning had begun to center on what the slip of the girl was up to.
Adi looked up from the slice of bread he was buttering. "She is actually in the playroom, Sire."
"This early?" Maan glanced at the grandfather clock chiming the hour.
"I bumped into Geet in the hallway this morning," added Pinky, "and she was already rushing there. It appears that she has truly taken to caring for the children."
"So she did not eat breakfast?" Setting down his tea, Maan furrowed his brow. "How will she get through the day on an empty stomach?"
Adi and Pinky exchanged a glance. "Well, Your Majesty," Adi began carefully, "I'm sure we can send breakfast up to her."
Maan motioned for the nearest staff member to approach the table. "Please put together a breakfast tray for Miss Geet," he instructed.
"Of course, Sire," the staff member said agreeably. "And should we deliver the tray to her in the playroom?"
"No, I will take it up to her myself," said Maan, swiping a silk napkin across his mouth. "Thank you." Out of the corner of his eye, Maan thought he saw Adi and Pinky share another glance, but quickly dismissed it when Adi began discussing the tasks for the day.
---
Maan balanced Geet's small breakfast tray on one hand as he approached the brightly lit playroom. The children's laughter coming from within caused him to smile involuntarily. The innocence of youth would forever be endearing, even to the most powerful ruler on earth.
Stepping inside the playroom, Maan quickly scanned the enormous space for Geet. He finally spotted her sitting in the library corner, reading a picture book to a young, curly-haired girl. Maan felt his heart swell of its own accord for some reason as he walked toward them, but decided to cast the strange feeling firmly aside.
Maan carefully set the tray down on a low wooden shelf above an assortment of toys. He waited until Geet had turned a page in the book before clearing his throat. "Geet."
Geet looked up at him. "Oh -- hello," she said, closing the cover flap and resting the book in her lap. Unless Maan was imagining things, her voice sounded strained.
"It is the king!" the little girl screeched, burying her head in Geet's side
Maan couldn't help but laugh. He kneeled down next to Geet, who had wrapped her arm comfortingly around the child. "And what is your name, sweetheart?" he asked.
The child peeked her head out slightly from Geet's side. She looked up at Geet, as if seeking permission to respond. Geet nodded gently.
"My name is Rosie," the little girl said quietly.
"That is a beautiful name," said Maan. He touched his finger to Rosie's cheek, which bore a dimple, causing Rosie to giggle. "And how old are you?"
"Four, almost five," she responded shyly, blushing at Maan's smile.
"Did you need anything, Your Majesty?" Geet asked, her tone of voice still tinged with tension.
"What? Oh, uh, yes. You didn't eat this breakfast morning." Maan motioned toward the meal tray that he had placed on the nearby shelf.
Geet stared at him. "I'm not hungry," she said flatly. "If you will excuse us, Rosie and I were in the middle of this fantastic adventure story. Weren't we, Rosie?" Rosie grinned and nodded as Geet gave her a squeeze.
Maan raised his eyebrows at this flagrant case of ungratefulness. "I brought breakfast up to you personally. The least you could do is say 'thank you.'"
But Geet had already resumed reading to Rosie, and was paying Maan no attention.
Maan clenched his jaw and thought to interrupt Geet, but, with a patience that surprised even him, waited until she had finished reading the story aloud.
"That was so, so good, Miss Geet!" Rosie cheered at the end, flinging her tiny arms around Geet's shoulders.
"I'm glad you enjoyed it, dear," said Geet softly, hugging the little girl back.
"You were a very good listener, Rosie," said Maan. "How about you go and play with the other children for just a little while? I need to talk to Miss Geet." He refused to let even one more incident of Geet's blatant insubordination go by.
Rosie bit her lip. "But I want to stay with Miss Geet," she said quietly.
"Just for a minute, sweetheart," Maan promised.
Rosie looked up at Geet, who reluctantly nodded. "I'll be right here, dear," Geet said.
"I wish you hadn't done that," said Geet, as she and Maan watched Rosie trudge over to a small group of girls playing with a doll set. "Rosie is usually so quiet and withdrawn, and she was finally warming up to someone -- me."
"Why is she usually like that?" Maan inquired.
Geet swallowed and her eyes suddenly looked watery. "She doesn't say, but I think I know why. Her parents told me that her brother is very sick and is currently at a hospital in a nearby city. She misses him terribly, I can tell."
"Oh," murmured Maan. "I didn't know."
Geet looked down into her lap and said nothing.
"Well, I was going to say that you need to eat breakfast," said Maan. He reached over and grabbed a piece of toast, which was rapidly growing cold, from the tray.
"I'm not hungry," said Geet. She began to rise, but Maan grabbed her wrist.
"Geet. You need to eat."
"I told you, I'm not hungry." Geet yanked her wrist out of Maan's grip and looked away. Maan could have sworn he saw a tear roll down her cheek, but when she turned around, her face was clean and smooth. "Can you please leave? I need to get back to Rosie. She . . . she needs me."
Maan allowed his gaze to drift over to the little girl, who was halfheartedly playing with a doll. "Fine," he finally relented. This could wait, he supposed.
---
"She isn't coming down for dinner, either?" Maan demanded. The sun had set and, as usual, an elaborate supper had been prepared in the dining hall. Geet was nowhere to be seen. He wasn't sure if she had skipped lunch as well -- he had been too busy to grab a bite himself -- but he would not be surprised if she had. Surely, Geet would come down for dinner, however. Or so Maan had thought.
Pinky jumped slightly in her seat at Maan's tone. "Geet said she was turning in early tonight, Sire," she said, almost apologetic. "She looked very tired."
"This is getting ridiculous," Maan muttered, scooting his chair backward and rising from the table. "She skipped breakfast, likely did not eat lunch, and is now absent from dinner as well?" He all but stomped his way down to Geet's bedchamber.
Maan didn't even think to knock on Geet's door -- he simply flung it open, a sharp reprimand already forming on his tongue. What he saw, however, stopped him in his tracks.
Geet was already asleep in bed, but she was twisting and turning violently, crying out. Maan thought he could make out, "Don't take him, please," but couldn't be sure.
Maan swallowed a lump in his throat and approached the bed. He gingerly shook her shoulder. "Geet," he said lowly. "Geet, wake up." The sight of her writhing in pain was almost too much to bear.
Geet twisted in her sleep for a few more moments until Maan's touch finally jolted her awake. She sat straight up in bed, a sheen of sweat coating every inch of her visible skin.
"Geet, are you all right?" Maan brushed a damp lock of hair away from her face, his heart racing. How violent a nightmare had she just endured?
As if seeing him for the first time, Geet jerked her face away from Maan and brought the bedsheet up to her trembling chin. "Don't touch me!"
"Geet --"
"Get away!" she cried, suddenly dropping the bedsheet and nearly tumbling out of bed. As if Maan's touch, his mere presence, was to be escaped.
"Geet!" Maan shouted, catching her before she hit the floor and holding her firmly by the waist.
"Let go! Let go!" she screamed.
"What is wrong with you?" Maan demanded, his voice rising even higher as she struggled to untangle herself from him. "What happened?" How many times would he go around in circles when attempting to confront Geet's bizarre behavior?
Without warning, Geet began to sob. "How could you?" she said weakly. "How could you have done it?"
"Done what?" Maan's heart began thudding against his ribs. "What did I do?"
"My brother," said Geet, her voice clogged with tears. "You killed him."
"What?" Maan's mind momentarily went blank.
"During the war, my brother was captured in our town by the enemy soldiers and taken to the other nation to be held as a prisoner of war," Geet choked out. "I tried to follow him -- I tried to save him -- the soldiers said I might have a chance to save his life if I was able to bring back intelligence from your palace."
Maan was too stunned to speak. The girl had been a spy for the enemy!
"Is that why you were hiding around the staff quarters?" asked Maan in wonderment, when he finally got his bearings back. "To try to gain entrance into the palace? To steal our battle plans and then give them to the enemy and save your brother?"
"Yes," Geet admitted, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I hid in the staff quarters for weeks and weeks but I could never gain entrance into the palace without a guard seeing me. I even tried to sneak in through one of the stables, and soiled my clothes in the process, but to no avail."
Maan shook his head in disbelief.
"By the time your guards found me," Geet began, her breath hitching in her throat, "I had gotten word that he was already dead." Fresh tears began to roll down her cheeks.
"I'm so sorry, Geet," Maan breathed. He resisted the urge to pull her into an embrace, since she would simply just thrash against him once more. "I . . . I don't know what to say."
"What is there for a murderer to say?"
"I did not personally kill your brother, Geet!" Maan exclaimed.
"You sanctioned the violence," said Geet brokenly, wrapping her arms around her knees. "He died as a prisoner of *your* war."
Maan sat in silence. He had so many things he wanted to say -- that war was a part of life, that he had had no choice but to approve war orders, that he would have saved her brother if he had only known about the situation. But the broken girl before him silenced him. No wonder Geet constantly lost her appetite and had seemed to have such a connection with Rosie this morning . . . both of them missed their brothers intensely.
Sighing, Maan leaned his head against the side of Geet's bed. Finally, her confession was out. But where were they to go from here?
---
Thank you so much for checking out this chapter!
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