Marikus, chief amongst the castle servants, walked the long stone corridors towards his queen’s bedchambers. He was a man of around twenty, tall and leanly muscular, but more ‘pretty’ than ‘handsome’. This was to be expected. He was a eunuch after all, castrated as a child, his body and mind unmarred by the taint of vulgar masculinity. Hence why he was ‘chief of servants’. Of all the men in the castle, he was the only one the women trusted. And when the King is off at war, the Queen and her cohort rule the roost.
His queen had summoned him to her chambers yet again this evening. He had spent many evenings there with her as of late, discussing and advising her on matters of state. She had been summoning him like this more and more often in recent weeks.
He finally reached the wide double-doors of the queen’s private chamber. He knocked on her door and waited for a response. He heard voices coming from within, before the door swung open and a lady peeked out. She smiled warmly at Marikus, gesturing for him to enter. “Come in, sir” The lady spoke courteously. Marikus nodded and stepped into her chamber.