I am such a silly person. It can't be improved. I was going in the wrong direction. I must focus on the new and leave ameliorations for the lesser minds.

LoG, 174

Nalina waited for the girls to lay the fabric over her now clean, fragrant body. Then she followed them without words, leaving The Lavatory. Countless times, she thought how glad she was that her servants knew the way back to her bedchamber.

Her face glowed with a joyful idea.

If it were up to me, I would most certainly get lost. Why doesn't someone place signs all over The Mushroom? It would really be helpful, for example, to take one corridor, and suddenly see a wooden signpost that says "The Dining Room" or "The Lavatory." So I would definitely not lose my way, and poor girls wouldn't have to keep me company running around with me everywhere. Oh, or even better! 

I only ever go to The Lavatory, The Kitchens, The Dining Room and my bedchamber. So, four different coloured thick threads should be placed along the corridors, and they could lead me to those rooms. I wonder if I should suggest that to my mother.

"Your Highness, we have arrived," the girls said in unison, and thus interrupted yet another of her associative strings of mental images.

"Yes, I'm sorry, I got lost in thoughts," Nalina replied and walked behind them into the bedchamber.

In there, every power they had over her stopped. No matter how hard they tried, the servant girls never managed to be the ones to dress Nalina.

A tiny smile danced around her lips. Such small victories make my day, she laughed, putting on a simple green dress and soft dark-green satin shoes.

Then, however, Nalina patiently sat before the boudoir. She allowed them to properly comb her hair, which still showed signs of dampness.

"Hairdo, Your Highness?" desperation could be heard in the voice of one of the girls.

"Oh, don't worry, leave it to fall freely. I don't want any special hairstyle," Nalina took advantage of her status to issue this order.

"As Your Highness Commands," the maid replied sourly. The other servant spoke next.

"Make-up, Your Highness?"

Nalina shook her head once. The stubborn girl was resolved to enumerate all possibilities to her like she did every Light.

"Skin bleach, eyebrow painting, eyeshadow, blush, lipstick?"

Nalina shook her head sharply five times.

The girls' fingers then scattered all over her face like tiny mud crabs, and both of them attacked Nalina's eyebrows with tiny wooden pincers.

The torture lasted for a few minutes until they finally let her go.

"I suppose I couldn't say no to the arranging of my eyebrows," Nalina said in a grievous voice, casting an almost imperceptible smile to one of her maids. "Thank you for everything you did for me this Light. See you tomorrow!" She waved them goodbye.

Fortunately, they didn't have to remove the hair from my entire body this Light. Of, how that hurts.

"Your Highness." The girls retreated from her bedchamber walking backwards, bowing all the time.

When she was left alone, Nalina threw herself on a vast bed and ridiculed the absurdity of the situation as she did every Light. "All right, maybe we made progress here. Or not." She said out loud, without caring if someone could hear her.

Before going to The Kitchens, Nalina paused for a moment in front of the mirror. She closed her eyes. A tiny, malnourished little girl looked back at her from a half-broken piece of glass.

That little girl was a memory of her so many Big Ones ago; she wore dirty grey panties and Borna's repeatedly patched sweatshirt back then. Nalina had to wait for Miglena to return from the Omnibus classes so she could get dressed. So she could put on Miglena's worn sweater, the old skirt and shoes with demolished soles.

I never had my own clothes. And now ...

She opened the closet that stretched all over the wall, her eyes widening. No matter how many times Nalina saw that scene, she knew she'd never get used to it. There were enough outfits for several girls of her age to wear: a few dozen underwears, blouses, skirts, countless dresses for a variety of occasions, jewellery, hats ...

And shoes.

There were hundreds of pairs of shoes of all colours and shapes.

Nalina's head spun, and she slammed the door of the wardrobe. For a few seconds, she breathed heavily, forcing herself to calm down. This isn't me. But ... I'm no longer who I was, she thought, and a tear dripped onto her opened palm.

Nalina quickly wiped it away and left the bedchamber. I cannot think about it. This is my life now and ... No matter how different it is from my former life, I ... I'll get used to it. I have to.

Perhaps the key merely lies in trying to adjust the situation to my personality. Although I am now a princess, I will behave in the same way as before. I will do all the same things as before and ... In time, nothing will seem different anymore.

She took several steps and then paused in the hallway. Mm, and now ... How to get to The Kitchens ... It seems to me that it's ... This way!

After about ten minutes of roaming in circles and investigating the terrain, Nalina found herself in front of the worn stairs made of grey unpaved stone that led downwards.

The Kitchens are in the cellar of The Waterfort!

Nalina joyfully concluded that she was on the right path before wandering down the stairs as fast as her legs would carry her. Wearing a grin of a playful, enthusiastic child, she barged into the first of several large stone rooms with a loud "plop".

Each of the chambers had a separate purpose, according to the meal that was prepared and who the food was meant for.

In one of them, the young assistants assembled, chopping and boiling meat and vegetables as per requirement. Then they would carefully put ingredients together in different containers and deliver them to The Main Kitchen. From there, cooks would take over and begin the meal preparation.

Nalina rearranged the third room for her experiments with several types of herbs and plants. That was where she brewed various oils, ointments and creams. Later she would take them to The Curatory of Lagad.

Cooks had no understanding for this activity of hers.

Luckily, I'm a princess so I can do what I want. She stuck out her tongue at invisible critics.

In the fourth room, the piles of stone and wooden dishes were washed and prepared for future use. The fifth and the last chamber was full of the cleaning agents. There were cleaners responsible for keeping it all immaculate. Nalina knew it was because the Queen didn't like dust or dirt.

The Kitchens staff always felt embarrassed and uncomfortable whenever Nalina would show up at the door. No one knew how to treat her.

I am their princess. But maybe I am too soft with them. I just forget myself sometimes and start greeting everyone intimately, offering my help, instead of commanding respect. Perhaps that's why they always look so confused. I swear, these people seem as if they can't wait for me to order them to do something, Nalina rolled her eyes.

On that particular Light, Nalina went straight to The Main Kitchen to locate Magda. This short, white-haired old woman of a gentle glance was like her other mother. Nalina remembered when she first saw Magda at The Market Square while she hid behind her mother's overly long sleeves.

Back then, Nalina was only a child. Magda sold the fruit at one of the stalls. Gospava usually came to buy six weekly apples, one for each family member. They were the cheapest fruit. Nalina's eyes wandered around the stall and stopped at juicy, bright red peaches. She couldn't look away from them.

Their taste was unknown to Nalina, but something was telling her she would like them if she had the opportunity to try them. She knew she mustn't ask her mom to buy her that fruit. They only brought half a glass of water for trade, and it was just about enough for the apples.

Magda caught her gaze and caressed her hair. Nalina stiffened, unaccustomed to tenderness. "What're you looking at, doll? You like peaches?"

Nalina just shrugged. She was timid as a girl.

Mom looked at Nalina with a warning and gently pulled her to stand behind her. She paid for the apples. It was time to go.

"Here, take one. Go on! Try it!" Magda said and put a big soft peach into Nalina's hand.

"It was not necessary, Magda," Gospava muttered, blushing.

"It's alright, Gospava. It's for children. It's alright," the greengrocer from The Market Square replied.

Nalina recalled Magda's gift. It was her first and only bit of the peach. They took it to Namas number 217 and split into four parts. Mom and Dad didn't want any. That honey-flavoured sweetness that slid down her throat, filled with sugar and water was the most delicious thing Nalina had ever tasted.

It was the beginning of one of the most beautiful friendships despite the difference in age. Nalina confided in Magda everything she didn't dare say to her mother. The shame of the old, overly worn clothes she was wearing at The Omnibus classes. She told Magda all about how Miglena and Borna mistreated her, her first crushes and her love for herbs.

Nalina had always known that she wished to become a Curator although she was sure that Gospava would object to it. "You will finish elementary education and become a cleaner, like me," she could hear mother's voice in her head.

Magda supported her to be what she wanted. This gave Nalina courage to sneak out and to spend hours on the field just outside the city after classes. She would collect various leaves and flowers and explore their properties together with the Instructor during her Omnibus classes.

During The Water War and water shortage, almost no one bought fruits and vegetables or exchanged water for them. If anything, people would bring anything they owned and tried to swap it for a glass of water.

Magda's job came down to nought, and Nalina was sad because she couldn't do anything to help her. She wasn't even able to support herself, let alone her benefactor.

Now, when her parents were proclaimed Leaders, and she and her brothers and sisters, princes and princesses, Nalina could very well come to Magda's rescue. She went straight to Magda's Namas and invited her to work for them. That gave Magda the roof over her head and a constant source of food, water and clothes.

The new Leader told Magda she could take her son with her. The boy was her only family. This was also the lone favour Nalina had requested from her father, Milen, at the end of The Water War.

"Magda!" Nalina exclaimed cheerfully from the door of the Main Kitchen. Then she rushed toward the smiling, visibly tired cook.

Magda made a small bow and jokingly said, "Your Highness."

Nalina was flabbergasted. "Oh, not you too, please!" She dragged the old woman to the pantry where she hugged her fiercely.

"Nalina, child," Magda told her in a reproaching voice. "I was preparing omelettes for your First Meal. And my son left a peach jam to cook in the pot. I have to keep an eye on it. The pies with meat and cheese are in the oven; everything will burn! And I also need to chop sausages, bacon, salami and brew gallons of coffee ... You can't pull me away from the stove just like that."

"Oh, listen! After The First Meal, I will go to The Curatory to see dad. See father, I mean," Nalina added a few moments later, correcting herself. Ever since they became nobility, Nalina's mother, the Queen, insisted that her daughter's language should be more formal.

"So I wanted to ask you ... Can I make one or two sandwiches with egg, cheese and ham? I'll do it super fast, I promise. I'll take a few tomatoes from the pantry, too," Nalina blabbed on.

"Don't you dare make your own sandwiches in front of all the hired hands! Why are we here, then? People'll start to talk."

Nalina hung her head low. "You have a lot of work to do. I don't want to burden you even more. It'll take me like five minutes to do it while you're doing something else."

"Listen, honey, I know that you're doing it from the goodness of your heart, but people don't see it that way."

"What people? Who are those "people"?" Nalina frowned, hurt. "I've been listening about these abstract "people" for so many Big Ones, ever since I became the Princess of Lagad. Some people in front of whom I can't do this, I can't say that ... Who are they to me? Why should I care about their opinion?"

"That's how you could behave before. Now not only do you have to maintain your own reputation but also your family's reputation as well. This isn't solely about you anymore, Nalina. You know that the residents of the city have already begun to complain. Now that Milen is in The Curatory ... Well ... Many people say that Gidenar shouldn't have made your father Leader on The Light he died. That Gidenar's son Fedum should lead us. Your mother, your brother and your sister ... They aren't really that loved. People don't like it when someone jumps over social classes. Yesterday you belonged to a working class, today you rule. From the cleaner to the Queen."

"I only care about what you think." Nalina's eyes became teary.

"Honey. It doesn't matter what old Magda thinks," Magda hastily laid her finger on Nalina's mouth before she could protest. "No, no. Don't speak. Listen to me now. And why doesn't it matter? I'll tell you why. Old Magda is no-one. Old Magda can't do anything. And a group of well-organised rebels can. People don't have to love you. Yet they have to respect you and learn to live under your rule. They must accept that your mother is now Leader's wife. And you aren't doing her service with your crazy behaviour. It just ain't fitting. Ain't fitting," she repeated, shaking her head and her forefinger in unison. "You know that I love you as my own daughter. I'm grateful to you for everything you did for me. That's why I'm telling you all this."

"I know." Nalina bit her lip. "I ... I don't want to be a rich princess. At least ... I don't want that to determine who I am. To be the only thing I am."

"Well you are a princess and there's no escaping it! It's a heavy burden to carry, old Magda knows, she knows ... You'll find a way to reconcile those two sides of your personality. And now, enough about that." Magda said in a business-like manner. "I'll make those sandwiches for you. It's nothing to me, no problem at all. Send your father my best regards and tell him I hope for his quick recovery."

"I will." Nalina said gently, smile embellishing her face. "Oh! Today I'll examine the qualities of the valerian and the marigold in the Curatory. Wish me luck."

"I don't worry about you. You always had that energy, will, goal. I knew that you would be successful in any task you put your mind to."

"I didn't really want to become the daughter of the Leader, but a Curator! But oh well." Nalina was hopping mad.

"Then you will become The Curator," Magda replied calmly.

Nalina felt tranquillity wash over her. The mere appearance of this woman infused her with enormous self-confidence. "Well, I hope you're right," she sighed.

Later Nalina followed Magda to The Main Kitchen. On her way there, her nimble fingers snatched a piece of sausage from the cutting board and stuffed it in her mouth. This made Magda look at her sternly.

"How is Miro?" Nalina finally said, after having swallowed the delicious meat, about to climb into The Dining Room.

"Not well," Magda grunted. "He still loves her."

"I feel so sorry for him." Nalina's lips tightened.

"I'm not. Miro must move on and snap out of it. There's nothing he will get out of her anymore. There's nothing at all ..." Magda shook her head and turned to the stone furnace. She pulled out a variety of divinely scented pastries.

Nalina was just about to leave when Miro appeared at the door. "Miro! I'm so glad to see you. How are you?" she asked with a smile, pulling him into a big hug. She always enjoyed the company of Magda's son. He reminded her of a benevolent blond-haired giant with huge arms represented on an illustration in her storybook.

Miro seemed tired, and he looked way older than the twenty-five Big Ones he really had. "Nalina," he mumbled in response. "The Light before, I saw Miglena in front of the palace, The Waterfort. The Mushroom, I mean." He scratched back of his head. "She didn't tell me anything. She didn't even look at me. She walked right past me like I was nothing ..." Miro bit his tongue.

"I'm sorry," Nalina looked down. She didn't know how to help the cook's son, how to comfort him, to solve his problem. And that's what I like to do. To listen, to make others feel better. It's just the worst feeling in The Squareworld when I can't.

"Do you think you could ... perhaps you could ..." Miro was getting lost up to the breaking point while he stared somewhere over Nalina's shoulder. "Give her this letter, tell her it's from me, and she might ... Maybe she will send an answer."

"Miro ... I'm not sure if that's such a good idea." Nalina said cautiously. "You know how Miglena is and ..."

"Please." She could have sworn a tear appeared in his eye.

"Oh, alright. Fine." Nalina wrung her hands as her eyes darted left and right. "At least I can give it to her. I know it means a lot to you."

"Thank you!" Miro raised her above the ground, without caring about the observers, and drew her into a bone-breaking hug. "I won't forget this."

"You're welcome." Nalina shrugged. Poor Miro. He really likes Miglena a lot.

She felt the Viewstone vibrate in her pocket and she almost cried out in fear. No way! It's orange already? The First Meal is about to start. I have to hurry!

Nalina rushed towards The Dining Room. She would occasionally pause if someone came across the corner to kindly greet the person with a restrained nodding of her head. She hoped that, in that way, it wouldn't look as if she was desperately running through the corridors.

Luckily, the path from The Kitchens to The Dining Room is short. There is no danger of me getting lost here.

She finally entered the stone hall, panting, a little breathless. As she advanced to the enormous wooden table at the base, Nalina felt the eyes of her sister and her mother on her. They were looking at her with disapproval.