“Thank your Queen for me, I am most proud to receive a personal welcome.” I finally answer.
Princess Celyz doesn't seem to be bothered by the moments of silence I took to think. She nods her head at me before facing her Queen for a second.
After a pause, the Rykz Princess unfurls all her tendrils to spread them widely on either side of her, planting her toes deep into the ground and extending her tail fully behind her. She then executes a deep bow towards the humongous Queen, making her tendrils swish in front of her in elegant waves.
Princess Celyz holds the bow for a single second before straightening herself back up, wrapping her tendrils back around her chest, and letting her tail drop closer to the ground.
She then turns around to us, slapping her tail to the group four times, making blunt sounds on the street pavement. The warriors around us start moving, I remain completely silent, immobile. I even allow myself to smile a little when I hear the other three's feet scrape on the ground, behind me, as they tense in reaction to the Rykz' movements.
As I expected, there was nothing to fear. Forty of the warriors separate from our escort, leaving impassibly in four different groups. The remaining group of ten gathers around us, four of them remain very close to the Princess.
“My Queen promises you safety if you are content to labor in our mushroom pit fields for the hive.” Princess Celyz states calmly.
“I …” How do I refuse this? Can I? It could be an attempt to separate me from the group. I could use my lost arm as an excuse.
“Do not worry, the offer is traditional. My Queen will not take offense at your refusal to feed those waging war on your hive … I mean on your country.” She unfurls a tendril to wave it gently around her chest.
“Traditional. Is the Queen not welcoming us by tradition too?” Lady Lance asks, wary. I would be on edge too if someone else were to be welcomed while I wasn't.
“My Queen is not as knowledgeable on the differences between Rykz and Human culture, she has a tendency to make parallels that are not quite accurate during her dealings with humans.” Princess Celyz states the facts simply. She does not seem to fear any kind of retribution for criticizing her Queen. A human would be imprisoned at the very least if he was caught speaking of his King in this way. “In this case, my Queen considers the fact that you surrendered to be … dishonorable.”
“But a peasant doing the same is honorable?” Patrick scoffs, derision in his voice.
“The capitulation of a worker is indeed honorable. It is expected of them since olden times, their duty if you will. A very long time ago, when resources were scarce. Rykz hives have taken to war against each other in order to determine which hive is stronger, which Queen is wise enough to find the path of survival. The tradition established then is that workers are to be spared and integrated into the hive if they accept, Warriors have also been allowed to join hives if their resources allowed it.” She pauses. “We Princesses, however, have a duty to live and die for the hive, to successfully protect our Queens or to accompany them in death.” Princess Celyz explains, the prideful tone that I noticed earlier takes over her tone towards the end, as she describes her duty.
“If your Queen believes our duty is to die for the Izla, why accept our surrender?” Lady Lance asks.
“My Queen is aware of her lack of perspective in such matters. She insisted that I extend the traditional offer towards Jessica, but she has deferred judgment to me in this entire matter as I have invested the time that my Queen could not spare into studying human society.”
I can buy that the Queen would be more welcoming of me if that is how their hives interact. I was wrong in thinking that her welcome was a white lie on the Princess' part. But that doesn't invalidate the rest of my reasoning. This new information actually reinforces my speculation.
Princess Celyz has taken responsibility for us in front of her Queen.
She wanted to test us, to make sure we would not act in a way that would cost her after she has taken charge of us. To do that, she needed to know if we could be of use before we reached the Queen, before the Princess was forced to make a final decision one way or the other. Perhaps also probe our general attitude towards the Rykz.
“I wonder what would have happened to us if we all acted as diplomatically as our dear, inherently superior, Lordling.” I express the thought out loud with a mirthful smile, focusing on my hearing to catch their reactions behind me. They remain sadly silent, but I hear enough sounds of leather ruffling to know that heads have turned, positions shifted.
I keep my eyes on the Princess. My own amusement, at the fact that I just put Patrick on the spot for being reckless, does not change the fact that Princess Celyz has goals unknown to us, objectives that will affect our lives. As long as we don't know more, my attention must remain focused on her.
“Let us proceed towards the lavatories, we will provide you with fresh clothes after you have finished washing and guide you to your new accommodations.” The Princess says, passing over my comment.
I am not about to begin an argument and delay the longed after opportunity to wash. I will consider fresh clothes to be a pipe dream until they are in front of me.
We make our way through a side street, heading towards a building with dozens of windows, it is located right next to a larger one with fewer windows but several chimneys. On the way over, four workers join the back of our group, each carrying large copper basins filled with clear water.
“There is another identical lavatory building nearby, I do know that your species has norms regulating how you present yourselves to the other genders. The three of you can use this one while I guide Lord Patrick around to the other lavatory, behind this one.” Princess Celyz proposes.
I can imagine the wide mischievous grin that just appeared on Yvonne's face at these words. Nope, nope, nope. I'm not playing on the same team this time, I will not let myself be put in the same room as my Leomi while she undresses. I might directly die from my blood pressure rising too quickly and too much. Worse, I could do something stupid that ruins my chances. I hurriedly explain before Yvonne can get a word in.
“We usually tend to ourselves alone because we live in much smaller housings, in situations like this one that sometimes happens during travels we do separate but it has more to do with orientation and less with gender.”
“Oh, I understand.” The Princess nods. “I will let you decide and wait for you to be done in the street between both lavatories, if that suits you.”
“Thank you for being so courteous.” I nod towards her, on my right side.
“Do leave your damaged outfits behind in the lavatories, we will take care of them.” The Princess adds.
I keep my head forward as I walk past the first lavatory, very careful to only let the back of my head visible for the two women behind me. I can sense the heat in my cheeks, they must be glowing red from the feeling of it.
The steps I hear behind me must be Patrick's, I can easily distinguish them from the clicking sounds made by the Rykz' four legs as they hit the pavement, or the heavy dull sound made by the Princess as she walks. I throw a quick look over my shoulder just before I enter the second lavatory. I let a sigh of relief when I indeed find Patrick, the furious blushing of my cheek finally relents and recedes.
The room is very long and not very wide, the floor in inclined towards the small trench running in the middle of the room. Two of the workers who have been following us enter the room soon after us.
They deposit their two copper basins filled with water on the ground in front of us. As soon as that's done, they both turn around and take their leave. Patrick starts squatting in front of one of the basins, probably to pick it up and move apart.
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I roll my eyes, directly grabbing the hem of my shirt and pulling on it with my arm, struggling a bit as I do my best to slip it off without touching the wound to my left or pressing too hard on the cracked ribs on my right side.
“You were much too casual with the enemy, learn to discern the situation you are …” He begins berating me but he stops when I finally manage to find a good position to take my shirt off. “Wh, wh, what are, wh, what are you, do, do, don't. Ar, aren't, you,” Patrick stammers comically. I sadly can't see him embarrass himself with my shirt halfway over my head, covering my eyes, so I hurry and finish taking it off.
“You don't have to look, Lordling. I sure as hell am gonna do my best to avoid seeing any part of you if I don't have to. Your face is enough of a scar inside my memory.” I answer, busying myself with untying the string holding my old pants to my waist.
Oh, are those the same one I … peed into. Argh! Water! Water! I throw the pair of pants against one of the walls, far from me, taking off my plain knickers in a flash and projecting them away from me in the same direction. Patrick coughs like something is stuck in his throat while I do that. He unfortunately survives and starts speaking soon after.
“Have you no shame?” He asks.
“Not for you, no?” I shrug. “Again, don't have to look.” I throw a quick glance over my shoulder, finding his back turned to me.
I roll my eyes, kneeling in front of my water basin and grabbing the piece of cloth floating inside. I start washing my hands first before moving on to my face, and then my arms. Top to bottom, using the washing rag on my face when it's the cleanest.
“I am not looking! A proper Lady should have propriety! Conduct herself …” Patrick starts spouting his nonsense.
“Yeah?” I interrupt. “Well I sure as fuck am no Lady, so there you go. Peace and silence now, I'm busy.” A mischievous smile raises my lips and I start speaking to myself loud enough for him to hear. “Good tight butt, strong legs, discreet abs, nothing to be ashamed of here.” I don't mention my breasts because of the red horizontal cut on my left one and the large black bruise located very close to my right one.
I twist my neck to look over my shoulder, behind me, Patrick still has his back turned to me but he apparently decided to ignore me as he is now carrying his own copper basin away.
I raise my hand up high before lowering it quickly and slapping the right side of my butt loudly. Patrick makes a startled volte-face, finding my hand resting flat on my butt's right cheek. His face turns red within a split second and his head snaps back forward so quickly he may have hurt his neck muscles.
I go back to washing myself, producing a mean giggle from the back of my throat that persists until a Rykz worker shows up with two piles of fresh simple brown clothes.
“Thank you.” I tell the worker, nodding my head as he lays one of the piles next to me.
I begin unwrapping the bandage that Yvonne applied to the wound and around my chest, I am very careful as I unravel the band of cloth because it also passes over the large black bruise covering the cracked ribs.
I find that some crust has formed over the red meat of my flesh, but most worrying is that there are a few pockets of pus around the lower part of the wound. There also a crack in one of the largest crusts, it is oozing a small amount of transparent pus, it is covering one of the bones that were cut and exposed if I remember correctly.
Fuck. I … I won't be able to clean myself with the rag if I use it to clean this … mess. I grit my teeth, choosing to ignore the wound until I finish washing my body.
I resume using the rag to rub myself clean, wiping my privates since I did fucking pee myself like a kid and I feel dirty now that the memory resurfaced. I work on my legs next, my calves take the most effort as apparently some of the Rykz' brown viscous blood splashed on them through the fabric of my pants and mixed with dust, leaving disgusting brown smudges on my skin.
Once I'm satisfied, the rag has so few unstained spots left that I just throw it over my pile of dirty clothes.
I take a long while to wash my hair in the water. Half-way through plunging my head in the basin, for the fifth time, I notice that the large amounts of water I project around me, every time I pull my black hair out of the basin, aren't making puddles.
The water is instead flowing towards the center of the room to drop into the trench that runs through the center of the lavatory. That small thing fulfills the same function as the ditches on either side of the large road that leads to Meria. Nifty!
Being done, the only thing left is taking care of the flesh wreck. I decide to directly plunge the wound into the basin, using my hand and the water to hopefully clean the wound. I take my kneeling position in front of the basin again, placing the left side of my tummy on the edge of the basin, right under my ribs.
I slowly angle the place where my left shoulder should be towards the water, careful to maintain my balance. The wound makes contact with the water. It's cold and I feel a couple stabs of pain but nothing too harsh.
I let the infected injury soak for a bit before using my hand to delicately, carefully, lightly, faintly, brush against the flesh. My teeth are already grit, they have been since I saw the state of the wound. It allows me to catch and strangle the harsh scream of pain that abruptly rushes up my throat, being pushed out from the very bottom of my lungs.
I swallow the air in my mouth, using that to push away the reflexive howl of distress. I straighten myself, pulling away from the basin and sending my hand to grab the pile of fresh brown clothes near me.
I dress up, the Rykz included knickers but nothing to function as a bra. I suppose one wouldn't know the all-importance of a bra without having suffered breasts directly. I am still paying the price of my decision to spend the morning free of constraint on Emperor's day.
I finish slipping the simple brown shirt on, I tread very carefully around the wound. I delicately press on the short left sleeve to flatten it somewhat and hide the state of the wound. I don't know or trust Princess Celyz enough to ask for medical attention.
I exit the lavatory, walking into the street and finding Yvonne standing in the middle of it. I notice that her hair are slightly wet and dripping water on her shoulders. She is wearing the same simple brown shirt as I am.
Her eyes are serious, watching the surroundings warily but she, oddly, rarely turns them towards the group of ten Rykz warriors surrounding Princess Celyz not ten meters away from us.
I smile reassuringly, deciding to both throw a pike at Patrick and tell Yvonne that he's fine inside.
“He totally checked out my ass!” I speak loudly, enough so that I am certain he heard me.
“He did?” Yvonne asks, a small smile rising to her lips.
“You slapped it!” His voice comes out of the lavatory in a protesting yell.
“You did?” Yvonne repeats herself.
“I have a very slappable ass if I do say so myself.” I answer, bringing my hand up near my torso, spreading my fingers and placing them right beneath my throat in a gesture full of arrogant pride.
We both exchange amused smiles for a few seconds. She then winks, nodding her head towards the back door of the lavatory building she used with Lady Lance. Is she suggesting I go in?! I … I … I …
Princess Celyz' voice resounds around us, breaking me out of my brain freeze. “I couldn't help but notice the smell of your injury, Jessica. It is infected.” A statement, not a question.
I nod towards the Princess, confirming. It is pointless to dance around the truth if she can smell the infection. I make a grimace at the thought of the smell. I just fucking washed!
“Come with me, please.” She nods towards the nearby building with the chimneys. “It is our place of healing.” She unfurls a tendril just long enough to make it brush against two of the warriors, they instantly follow behind us. “We will be back shortly.” She tells Yvonne as we depart.
Yvonne nods at me as I pass by her, she is trying to conceal a worried frown. I send her a light smile.
The place of healing, as the Princess calls it, is currently occupied by a single Rykz worker with splints on two of his fingers. He is laying sideways on the sheet of fabric of one of the dozen odd Rykz beds in the room, resting. The underside of the creature's lower trunk is identical to its upside except for the four legs idly laid around it.
The Princess leads me to one of the beds, turning her ovaloid head to face me before nodding towards it. I swallow my unease. No good reason to be difficult, let's be helpful. If she wants to harm me, there is nothing I can do about it anyway.
I take the brown shirt off slowly. It is still a struggle to do the simplest things with a single hand. I sit on the bed, I take my right breast in hand to gently push it aside and take a better look at the black bruise covering the cracked ribs. I wince in pain as soon as I try moving my breast to the side, the bruise extends all the way to cover some of my under-boob.
I sigh and remove my hand, these two lumps of flesh are so much easier to deal with when I can just admire them on other women's chests from a distance.
Even if my Leomi wanted to play around with them, I wouldn't be able to let her because the flesh of the left is so close to the wound that it sometimes pulls on the edge of the wound when I take a too abrupt step and my left breast moves a bit too much.
This would be a fucking adventure if I didn't spend most of it getting injured, falling unconscious, or walking carefully, taking light steps because otherwise...
“My boobs fucking hurt! Rhaah!”