A Healer Princess by Alea Henle

Author:Alea Henle
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Crabgrass Publishing

14

“I’m told you would like me to dance.”

Danissa barely breathed. The mumbles and bangs from the kitchen, the children yelling as they ran down from the orchard, sounds faded into a distant buzz. A gray fog edged her view, leaving only five faces visible.

A guilty expression on each and every one.

The earth bore her up, steady and unmoving beneath her bare feet. Her tunic and mantle rippled about her calves as a late afternoon breeze twined about. A thin layer of clouds hid the sun and reduced shadows to almost nothing.

Platters of food sat ready for serving on the tables set up under the trellis. The aroma of fresh nutty bread and stuffed fruits overrode the lighter floral scents from the trellis flowers and distant fields. Torches holding stone glows stood at the corners of the yard, covered for now.

Family thronged the square, but kept to the edges. Some sat on chairs or cushions. Others perched on walls or handcarts.

All watching.

All listening.

All waiting for the fest of the eldest to start. It always began with a song and a dance. Always she danced. Perhaps someone else had when she was young, before she could remember. Her father was asked, in those early years, and chose her to partner him. Once she came of age, she was requested directly.

She’d asked her great-grandleether, years earlier, why they chose her, though others danced the start when they weren’t around. “I might not understand what princesses and compeers are,” Seloro, then the eldest, had said, “but there’s a difference when you or your father dance, especially you. But hush.” They laid a finger across their lips, pretending they didn’t know her father looked over their shoulder. “Don’t tell your father.”

“For the first time, the burden is mine to choose. I miss Seloro, but I would not have a dance of sadness or loss. I choose you, and joy.” Great-grandfather rose, tottering a bit. Danissa held his hands until he steadied, thanks in no small part to her father and grandfather bracing his legs and torso. “Will you dance joy for me?”

“Of course.” The words fell from her lips unbidden. She’d assumed he’d ask. Anticipated partnering with her father, as usual.

Until she’d heard the last words from him. His confession of illness, and the lack of a cure.

His early summer sickness hadn’t gone, but returned in greater strength.

And he didn’t tell her, didn’t share, didn’t let her help.

Shared the news with one of his fathers and his grandfather first, rather than her. His other father, busy in the kitchen, would have to hear later as well, but that offered little consolation.

A heavy weight seemed to press on her shoulders. Every bone and muscle grew stiff, awkward.

Yet she had to dance.

Joy.

But first, she needed to choose a partner or two.

Rustles and whispers penetrated the thick fog around her. Her neck refused to move, waist likewise. Feet shuffling, she turned in a circle. Other people’s bodies blurred into each other, forming a big mass topped with distinct faces.

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