Voravia heard the clangor of the gong and the noise of people rushing down the hallways; she wasn't aware of why there was such confusion, or why the offensive clanging continued, but she wanted it stopped.
Marte burst into the room without knocking.
Voravia turned to look at the woman, her eyes snapping in anger.
"Get up, you lazy! The time's come for you to be ready and headed toward the throne room," Marte shouted.
Voravia, ignoring the old hag, was lounging on one of the sofas, luxuriated in the presence of so much wealth and plenty.
There could be no better place on this world.
Water everywhere, in bowls, jars, with flowers protruding from vases filled with it. Food, of all varieties, in other containers scattered around the room, so anyone could just walk by and take what seemed to be the most delicious at the moment. Clothing, beautiful things, lay everywhere.
Voravia never dreamed such a place could exist and here she was.
Marte was an unnecessary nuisance. Voravia, her bright copper hair tossing across her shoulders, only glanced and scowled at the woman.
Marte, however, was more than concerned her charge wasn't ready for this moment.
"I told you. You must be ready when the time came. Now you're being summoned. Get up off your behind and do it now! Do you think I'm willing to get into trouble because of your insolence?" Marte was yelling at the top of her lungs now.
Victoria’s anger began to well up inside her; she felt she should dispose of this woman, and now. It all seemed strange, but exhilarating at the same time.
As she stared at the woman, there was no sound coming from the woman's mouth though Voravia could see it moving.
There was only the quiet she always enjoyed at these moments when she was about to extend herself once again, just to deal with yet another worrisome thing.
Just as she was starting to concentrate on what she was going to do, staring at the woman who now stood over her, the door to the chamber opened.
"Come! Now!" a soldier, maybe an officer, shouted at Marte, stood holding the door open, ready to leave immediately.
"Yes, I know, but I can't get this fool girl to move," Marte ,showing her frustration, paced back and forth nervously.
Voravia, losing her focus on her attempt to rid herself of the woman, stood slowly and walked to the wardrobe nearest the mirror.
"I'll be ready in a moment, if you'll leave," Voravia was as insolent as she could be.
I never wanted to come to this place. Let them wait.
"You will get dressed now and will come with me, or I will drag you to the throne room as you are. You have two counts to comply. Now, do it! One! . . ," the guard shouted back at her.
Marte stood back, her arms folded below her huge breasts, grinning at Voravia. She wanted the man's threat to humiliate Voravia, her eyes gleamed with delight.
Voravia sulking, chose one of the gowns she liked most, started to remove the blue one she had tried first, turned and looked at the guard.
He wasn't moving, only glaring at her.
She dropped her clothing to the floor without looking to see if the man was shocked, reached and chose a black gown with silver slashing across the bodice from her left shoulder and down to the right hem.
She raised it over her head and slid into it. She was pleased when the gown nestled into place and conformed to her body shape as though it was made for her.
There are no fastenings. She was fascinated.
She turned to look at Marte and, more importantly, at the guard, but he had turned to look down the hall and when he looked back into the room, the expression on his face was the same as before.
Men! I should like to turn them all to suskrit and throw them back into the sea!
She stomped to the door. Marte, in tow, pushed the man aside and stepped in behind her.
Once in the hall, Voravia had no idea what she was supposed to do. She stopped confused, looking both up and down the great hallway.
Overhead, the light glittered through dusty air in the highest eaves, too high to see any detail.
"Walk this way," prompted the officer, turned and walked down the long corridor. Voravia noticed he had an officer's insignia.
She smirked at Marte, spun on her heels and walked, mocking the man marching stiffly along in front of her, barely suppressing her giggle.
ANISAH