The Dragon’s Throne 1

Chapter 6

Eli strode into the sitting room, catching his mother dozing in the large chair awash with the sunlight streaming in through an open window.  He walked up to her quietly, kissing her forehead gently and stepping back, his hands behind his back.

“You know, when you were little, you had your hands behind your back and you were hiding a frog,” she said, not even opening her eyes.

“I have something better than a frog, I promise.”

“I’ve heard those words, too.  That time, you brought me a toad.”

Eli laughed. 

“Open your eyes, Mother.  I found something I know that you’ll love.”

He held the dress out in front of him now, and Lauren slowly opened her eyes, teasing him like she had when he was only six.

When she finally opened her eyes all the way, she gasped and stood quickly.

“Oh, Eli.  It’s stunning.  Where in the world did you get this?”

Lauren took the dress from him, holding it up to her chest and sighing at the feel of it in her hands.

“Festival,” he said sheepishly.

She stopped, looking nervously at the door and going suddenly quiet.

“Your father forbade you to go to Festival.”

“And when has that ever stopped me?” he quipped.  “Come on, try it on.  It was made especially for you.”

“It was?” she asked, clearly confused by the statement.

“Just try it on.”

“Alright, but don’t tell your father where it came from.  I just got that man calmed down, I don’t want to deal with his temper again.”

“I’m not afraid of him,” Eli said, defiant.

“No one expects you to be afraid, but a healthy dose of self-preservation wouldn’t be a bad thing.”

She left the room quickly, stepping into one of the countless bathrooms in the house, changing into the dress and stepping out to let Eli help her tie the bodice up.

“This dress is perfect, and this shade of purple is divine.  It reminds me so much of this one human who did the most amazing work.  I don’t remember her name, but your father used to buy from her all the time, and she took great care to dye the fabric and embellish it just the way I liked.”

“This dress was made for you,” Eli said.  “The woman I bought it from is the daughter of that seamstress.  She also makes beautiful dresses, and I wanted to talk to you about that.”

“Wait, this dress was made by the woman your father bought from all those years ago?”

“Yes.  She died before she could sell it to you, and it’s been stored lovingly this entire time.”

“What an amazing story.  I hope you paid her well.”

“I did.”  Eli stepped back, looking at his mother in the sunlight and smiling. 

She twirled, her raven hair twirling along with the dress.  Eli smiled at her, amazed at how the perfect dress could erase years from his mother’s face.  She looked so young in that moment, laughing and whirling around, then stopping and watching the fabric settle around her legs.

“This is amazing, Eli. Thank you.”

“Thank you for what?” Silas said, walking into the room from the hallway.  “Eli, I’m glad to see you.  I thought you would stay away for a while after our last discussion.  I’m glad to see that you’ve matured since the last ti-” Silas stopped, looking at his wife, his mouth agape.  “Where did you get that dress?” he asked.

“Why don’t you look happy?” Lauren said.  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Where did it come from?” he repeated, his anger growing.

“I bought it for her,” Eli said, standing tall,  not even flinching when his father turned his angry glare on Eli.

“And where did you get it from?”

“Festival.”

There was silence.  Then, Silas spoke, so angry that his voice was hardly above a whisper.

“I forbade you to go to Festival.”

Eli shrugged.

“Looks like I didn’t listen.”

“You have some nerve,” Silas said, his voice getting steadily louder.

“You wouldn’t want a coward ruling Aman, would you?”

“Who made this dress?” Silas pressed.

“I bought it from the daughter of the woman who made this dress for Mother years ago.  She had been storing it and decided to sell it to make ends meet.  It seems that your Festival tax was raised and some of the villagers are going to struggle to survive the winter.”

“What Festival tax?” Silas said, momentarily distracted from the origin of the dress.

“The tax on Festival profits.”

“I don’t tax the villagers of Aldeia.  They’re an independent government.  We only provide them with protection and a safe border.”

“Well, they think that you tax them because it’s called the King’s tax.”

“I’ve never heard of such a thing.”  Silas shook his head,  and turned his attention back to the dress.  “What was the name of the woman who made this dress?”

“I don’t know.  Her daughter was Anna Greely.  She had curly red hair and the most intense green eyes.”

Silas looked upset again, even though he’d calmed somewhat.

“Did you tell her who you were?”

“I did.  I even danced with her.”

“You shouldn’t have gone,” Silas said again.

“But I did, and it was fun.  A lot of the villagers seemed intimidated by my presence, but eventually, they’ll get used to me being around.  I think it’s important for a ruler to be involved with the little people.”

“You’re not king,” Silas said.

“I’m not, but you’ve been pressing me to take over the role, and now that I’ve seen what you were keeping me from, I think you’re going about this all wrong.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Silas said through teeth that were almost clenched.  “You have no idea why I do things the way I do.”

“Maybe you could explain instead of dictating how things will be done and expecting me to just bend to your wishes.  That’s not how life works.”

“You don’t understand how life works.”

“I understand more than you.  Did you know this woman had to sell this dress just so she could make it through the winter, and here we sit, with electricity, living a completely different life?”