Welcome to my seemingly endless journey.
A trip that will take you to places I might have visited many moons ago.
It´s a tale that came back to me when I meditated on one of my past lives. A life I told you about in my unbelievable true story.
As promised in that story I will now share this story with you.
Chapter 111
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Everyone follows my example, and soon the circle is complete. The daughter seems very curious when we talk about the villages we come from. The world beyond the safe walls of the city must seem so far away. I expect she will not leave this city often, possibly never.
After Cabilah speaks last, wonderfully scented carts are wheeled in. These are placed on either side of the table, but the covers, which conceal the food from view, are not yet removed.
For no apparent reason, everyone is suddenly staring at the stairs.
A figure appears at the top, dressed in white. Very calmly, but at the same time full of strength, he descends the stairs. Everyone pushes back their chairs and stands.
The Sikh takes his seat, and servants appear on either side, placing golden plates and cutlery before his divinity. When everyone has joined, the Sikh pushes his chair back. Before we can follow his example, he commands us to remain seated with his hand.
“Lady, gentlemen, as far as I can remember, you are new and not used to the customs of the court. This time I will not blame anyone if he or she does not act entirely according to etiquette."
"But I would like to ask you to show all the respect you have towards me and my wife and daughter. It doesn't happen often that we have strangers as guests, if I remember correctly it has never happened before."
"All of us might need to find our way in this somewhat strange situation."
"Even though we did not meet I assume you know who I am, my servants have told me who you are, or say you are. At least the part you told my wife. Then I would like to welcome you and wish you a pleasant continuation.”
I can see from watching the staff that what is happening here is not usual; their eyes almost roll out of their sockets. Krya and Sion also look somewhat dismayed during this short speech.
The dishes are uncovered, and stewed vegetables, poultry, and meat, the smell of which we have been able to smell for some time, now become visible to the eye. Everything is served upon request, and the first few minutes pass without a word being spoken.
The opening comes from an unexpected source when Sion stands up and asks. “Your Divine Highness, since etiquette is a bit more relaxed, am I allowed to inquire about certain matters?”
The words sound stately despite coming from the mouth of a young woman. The Sikh looks at her, waits a moment, and nods. Sion sits down again. She looks at me and then at Numico; “Would you be so kind as to tell me more about your journey, your village, the things you saw on your long journey?”
Her eyes are kind, the rest of her facial expressions obscured by her makeup. We tell a hundred tales. When I take a break, Numico joins in, and we are occasionally supplemented by Cabilah or Dadrie.
I'm not sure whether it's nerves or the fact that we are so close to our goal, but it´s clear we all enjoy talking about our adventures. It´s not only Sion who listens attentively, Krya also appears to be fascinated by our stories.
The Sikh eats and is silent throughout the dinner. It's not even clear to me if he's listening or if his thoughts are somewhere else entirely. After dessert, while we're not even halfway through our story, the Sikh stands up, and everyone follows.
“Young Mr. Numico, please follow me,” despite the nice tone, it sounds commanding. Numico moves away from the table and follows the Sikh up the stairs. When they are out of sight, we take our places again and continue our conversation.
Both ladies are very curious and well-informed about the goings-on in the world outside the palace walls. Something that surprises me because why would they need that information?
After a while, Cabilah and Kreytu excuse themselves. The four of us are left behind. It's beyond the ladies' honor to get up before their guests do. It takes me a little while to realize that but after a few drinks, I suggest that if the ladies would allow me I wish to return to my room, and Dadrie gratefully takes the opportunity to follow me.
“It wasn't too bad,” I tell him on the way to our rooms. He nods and indicates that he couldn't read the Sikh at all. The combination of friendliness and authority was completely wrong.
I had noticed that too, and while eating, in the few moments when I wasn't speaking or listening, I had been puzzling over what this could mean. So far, I wasn't sure, and Dadrie also had some ideas but no certainty.
That night I dream of the palace, of stairs and corridors. Of servants who bow, bowls of food, and of Krya.
She is a special woman; everything about her is feminine. From her choice of words to the way she lifts and puts back her cutlery.
When I wake up, she still won't leave my thoughts. It won't be until dinner that I see her again.
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