carrion feeder

The Arrival

The first snow of the winter fell over the City of Aves last night, and come spring Her Majesty, the Grand and Kindly Duchess Altisidora Eclectus, would need to find a mate. Her twenty-seventh year was quickly dawning upon her, and tradition decreed the bloodline must be secured by her thirtieth. The City would have itself a hatchling princess by this time next winter.

Maeve Asirensis sat quietly in the rickety coach that would take her into the Duchess’s palace, and watched the gray, melancholy morning pass outside the window. She had woken to two Talons- members of the Duchess’s personal honor guard- rapping at the door of her family’s manor. Though she was only the third daughter of a humble Magpie lineage, she had been personally selected from all the noble Passerine houses to serve in Her Majesty’s royal court. Her mother had wept at the news of her departure- at twenty-two, she was close to nearing mating age herself, though servitude to Her Majesty would delay any chance of a daughter for at least a few years. Her two elder sisters, while feigning joy and pride, could not hide the jealous glints in their dark gazes. It was not common for the youngest daughter of a household to be selected to serve Her Majesty, and they no-doubt thought themselves better suited for the task than humble, naive Maeve. Regardless, there was little they could argue against Her Majesty’s direct orders, and had to resign themselves to remaining at home while Maeve traveled to court. She was dressed in her finest gown- a shiny thing of black silk and lace, that complemented the pretty blue-green glint of her feathers. Her long, jetty hair had been pulled into the most ornate braid her sisters could plait within the short time they were given. A small case was packed with belongings- her finest gowns, extra shifts, a mere few sentimental trinkets and jewelry items she was allowed to bring. Maeve had cried farewell in the arms of her family, and she had been sent on her way.

Across from her, sat the two Talons that’d been sent to collect her. One was a Whistling Kite, with a slender face, tawny complexion, and black-speckled wings. Her companion, a Peregrine Falcon: both dark-faced and -feathered, with a smaller stature and a sharp, judging look in her eye. Maeve shrunk under their gazes. She knew the Talons would not hurt her, especially not when they had been ordered specifically to ensure her safe arrival at the palace, but the nervousness in her stomach contorted into instinctual fear. After all, it had not been too long ago that birds of prey like the ones before her had ruled the City under iron claws.

The Talons wore bronze-metal chest plates over their white ceremonial tunics, though Maeve had seen patrolling knights wear chainmail underneath instead. The chest plates were each emblazoned with the knight’s personal insignia, perpendicular to the Duchess’s royal crest of green feathers and a rising sun. The Kite and Peregrine had removed their sharp, face-covering helmets in the privacy of the coach, though the expression on their faces were just as stern and unreadable as they might’ve been hidden under metal. The Talons did not speak to one other, or to Maeve, but kept their hands on their weapons as they scanned the outside streets for any threats. Fearing awkwardness from lack of conversation, Maeve, too, averted her gaze to the city.

The City of Aves was gray in the winter, especially close to Maeve’s home district in the northeast. It was still too early, and too cold for the majority of the city to have woken yet, though from her window Maeve could watch the commons exit from their small homes and tend to their gardens and yards, their daily morning chores. For a while, theirs was the only coach on the road, though as they turned into the inner districts it was joined by other carts, carriages, and vehicles bringing goods too and from the palace. Maeve was yet another bargaining chip to be traded, another luxury to be placed safely within Her Majesty’s court.

In summer, the inner districts closest to the palace were painted in paradisial jewel tones that sang and shined both in the warm light of day and the shimmering lantern-glow of night. Maeve could still remember her fledgling days spent at the summer festivals, wandering the streets with her sisters. In winter, the vibrant colors were washed out by the gray of the cold- the beautiful, ornate roofs capped by snowfall. It was as if a sheen of death had passed over the city, masking what once made it beautiful. Maeve still found a certain charm to it, though. The formidable structures of the inner districts gleamed, despite the cold of winter. They, like the jewel-feathered nobility that inhabited them, retained their elegance even in the harshest of conditions.

The Jade Palace was, of course, the most elegant of them all. It stood in the very center of the City of Aves, and was constructed entirely of bright green stone for which it was named. The Jade Palace was circular in nature, and it was said the closer one resided to the center of the palace, the closer they were to the heart of the Duchess. For centuries, Eclectus monarchs had reigned from the inner sanctums of the Palace. Altisidora was the first to reign after the Interim of Bloodshed.

A deep, dark-watered moat encircled the Jade Palace, only crossable from five small bridges evenly spaced around the moat. The coach made a full round of the road that encircled the moat, and Maeve was treated to the briefest glimpse of the Palace’s formal entrance- the grand, many-numbered marble steps that glistened even in the dull morning sun, the multitude high arches of doorways and open windows, the masked, marble guardian-figure statues, beckoning in the welcome while shunning the unworthy. Maeve knew she was not worthy- at least not worthy enough to travel through that door. After a brief moment, the coach moved on. She would enter the palace through the servant’s door.

The coach came to a startling halt on the other side of the palace, and the two Talons were first to disembark. They met with a formed squadron of their peers, and left silently to their duties, while Maeve remained sealed in her coach, waiting. Her idle hands found the handle of her singular small traveling case, as she anticipated needing to leave soon, and didn’t want to be a burden when she did.

Though she tried not to look out the window too much- gawking would be uncouth- Maeve spared more than a singular glance at the palace from her window, and spied a stout woman nearing the carriage. A Sparrow, judging by the dappling patterns of her feathers, and a Matron, by the fine silks of her gown, the lines of age on her face, and the regal elegance she carried herself with. The Matron was accompanied by two others- a Harrier Talon brandishing a spear in her hands and a cold detachment in her eyes, and a young-faced Titmouse girl- likely a maidservant.

The Titmouse girl opened the coach door and helped Maeve down. Maeve properly bowed to the Matron, and was answered in turn.

“Lady Maeve Asirensis, it is my pleasure to welcome you into Her Majesty’s hallowed nest and home, the Jade Palace.” The Matron greeted with a slight incline of her head. “I am the Matron Insularis, head housekeeper of this fine palace. It is I that governs over the maidens of the palace- from the humblest scullery maid to the finest ladies-in-waiting. I will guide you into this new chapter of your life in service to the Duchess, and oversee your courtly duties.”

“My graces upon you, Honored Matron,” Maeve kept her gaze politely low. “I am honored both to receive this opportunity from the Duchess, and to learn under your watchful teachings.”

The Matron gestured once to the Talon, “This is Reu Maillardi, your appointed guard,” and to the Titmouse girl, “and Tessa Baeolo, your attending maidservant. May you find their services satisfactory during your time here.”

Maeve nodded once to the Talon, and to the servant girl. She hadn’t anticipated having both a guard and a servant. Even back home, her family could only afford the most humble of household servants. “I am certain they will exceed expectations.”

Though Maeve had made effort to keep her voice and face neutral, she could see how Tessa’s eyes lit up at the near compliment. Reu only looked past her, as if watching for some invisible threat.

The Matron Insularis continued, “Before you are presented to Her Majesty and her court, you must be suitably cleaned and prepared. Follow me.”

A flush of embarrassment burned in Maeve’s chest- was her finest not enough for the Duchess? Regardless, she had no choice but to follow.

The Matron led Maeve into the dark, winding interior hallways of the Palace. Reu and Tessa tailed them, always a pace behind. The servant’s corridors were dim and tight, limited to only the most necessary of furnishings and luxuries. Occasionally, they’d pass a dark-dressed maidservant or the rarer armored Talon, each on their way to their various duties. Though her household of birth was humble, Maeve had frequented larger nobel households as a child, especially before the Interim of Bloodshed. Despite this, she was ignorant of the true amount of laboring bodies it took to run the Jade Palace. It seemed as if half the City of Aves itself was working in those dark, twisting halls.

They traveled up a flight of stairs, to a slightly cleaner, slightly brighter area of the palace, yet still there were none in the halls but the lower servants and guards. The Matron paused before the door to a bath chamber, and indicated Maeve enter. Tessa followed, while Reu stood guard at the door.

Inside the bath chamber was a small bathing pool, and a case of grooming tools. A tinted-glass window hung on the wall, letting in dawn light without any view of the outside. Tessa led Maeve to stand in the very center of the room, and guided her to extend outward her upper limbs perpendicular to her body. With swift, nervous hands, the girl disrobed her. The morning air was cool upon Maeve’s bare skin, though she didn’t find herself minding the immodesty of being so naked in front of another.

“You’ve come here to help the Duchess in her child-rearing, haven’tya?” Tessa asked- the first words she had said to Maeve. She spoke with a slight lilting accent common among the songbird lower classes. Maeve knew it was not exactly proper for a maidservant to engage in such casual conversation with the lady she was attending, but she did not consider herself high-standing enough to refuse the conversation. She was more like Tessa than she was the Duchess, after all.

“I have.” Maeve replied.

“Do’ya have any daughters of your own? Back wherever you’re from?”

The question was a nicety, more than anything. “No. I’m still too young. My mother hopes I might be selected for mating soon, though.” A wish that would likely not be fulfilled while she served at court. “Have you?”

“Ah, not I.” Tessa shook her head. She retrieved a wet sponge from the grooming kit, and began scrubbing the phantom of grime from Maeve’s bare body. “I’ve been of age for some years now, but it’s been so difficult for us small birds to be mated, after the Interim.”

Maeve hummed in agreement, and lifted her arms so Tessa could wash her torso. During the five years of the Interim of Bloodshed, no men had been allowed to enter the city, making mating impossible. In the three years since, it had been difficult to reinstate the norm of things, especially among the lower classes. “I hope you will be blessed with a daughter soon.”

Tessa finished cleaning Maeve’s body, and briefly withdrew. “I hope, before myself, that Our Duchess is blessed with a child.”

It was the most proper thing to wish.

Having cleaned the rest of Maeve’s body. Tessa then turned to her wings. Preening was usually an intimate activity, reserved for only one’s closest affections, especially in the circles Maeve had been raised within, but through her uncomfortability with the too-close touch, she could understand this as a necessary preparation to her introduction to the Duchess. And at least, Tessa seemed to know what she was doing. She pricked and pulled at Maeve’s feathers with a precise gentleness- enough force to tend to her pin feathers and rearranging the grown ones without causing Maeve any actual pain. The sensation was, at least beneath the surface-level discomfort of it all, somewhat pleasant.

“Ah, you Magpies have such gorgeous wings,” Tessa sighed as she extended out Maeve’s wing, her light touch barely grazing her white flight feathers. “A shame we will have to clip them, really.”

“Yes. A shame.” Maeve said, and swallowed her apprehension. It was only custom for the Duchess’s ladies-in-waiting to have their primaries clipped. A court lady was not a swift messenger or Talon guard. She was not meant to be prepared for flight at a moment’s notice. Her wings were to be clipped, so she would remember where her duties truly lay.