Free The Gypsy Queen by Samuel Solomon Page A

came easily to her just then. She liked how it felt.
      “Then perhaps he will accompany us to the palace,” said Otta, looking Yana directly in the eye. “The King has requested your presence .”
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    The Gypsy Queen- CHAPTER 6- “Hall”
     
     
     
      Yana entered the gates to the palace, grateful for this opportunity. She feared the King, being a simple gypsy girl, but she did indeed feel bolstered by Bastion’s presence. She knew she was safe with him.
      The palace was an impressive place. Yana looked around wide-eyed at all the sights. The structures were beautiful and commanding, and the fine silks and boots of the people were appealing. Yana always loved to watch the people when they went into the various cities where they traveled and did business, peddling their wares- baskets, fruits, fortune-telling, and the entertainment of song and dance among them.
      The city people were friendly enough, on some occasions, especially if they hoped for a good fortune to be told them. Too often, though, the city people were cruel, calling the gypsies dirty or worthless, and accusing them of thievery. Yana was always amazed by that, knowing that some city folk were every bit the thieves that gypsies could be, only in a different way. The gypsy clans were simply people, and she did not like to see people mistreated for no reason... and that was what she was accustomed to in some of her forays into the cities.
      Yana tried to win them over with pleasant music and dancing, even getting them to clap or dance along with them when she could. Alas, the city folk had some cause for their disdain- many gypsies did run afoul of them, and do them harm. She wished she could redeem her people, but it seemed things would always be this way. This disparity was a reality, a disharmony much like the one within her.
      Yana often felt scattered, as wandering just seemed to have that effect on her. She felt unable to get clarity sometimes, though she had always found an element of beauty to the uncertainty that life presented her.
      She felt that way now, she realized, walking with Bastion into the palace. She tried to think straight- think of what she might say to the King, or what he might say to her. The palace was quite lovely, even down to the stones laden on the earth beneath her feet.
      She looked over at Bastion as they walked, prompting him to look back at her with a smile reminiscent of their time years ago. Oh, Yana thought, how she loved the look on that darling boy’s face. She reached out and held his hand, and allowed him to lead her into the throne room.
      It was grand, though not as cavernous as she might have guessed. The King was not on his throne, but standing to the left, tending to a small simple garden of common periwinkle. Yana counted seven big planters. The throne was ornate but not overly so. The throne room smelled faintly of lavender, and something familiar she couldn’t quite identify.
      The King turned to them as they walked in. Yana was taken aback by his resemblance to Bastion, though she might have expected it. Yana had never met his family, as the caravan she was with when she found him as a child avoided things like kings and princes. Authority was not the preferred company for gypsies.
      The King allowed them to approach, saying nothing. He was so pleased to see his son, and curious of t he gypsy girl that walked with him. He nodde d to his son, and then looked at Yana .
      “So,” the King boomed, startling Yana , “this is the gypsy girl causing so much trouble?” Yana ’s mouth opened just a bit. He was suddenly quite menacing to her. “This is the one,” he continued, “that has interfered with our riders and warriors?” He looked at his brother Otta, who said nothing. “A mere gypsy girl, an intruder who might steal the shirt from my back if she could?” 
      Yana was horrified and infuriated. “Yes sir,” she announced as boldly as