AN: This is the backstory of Rayne, to help with the understanding of my very erratic murder mystery, Masqued. Any questions, click on 'fili' and read what's on my main page.

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Rayne curled up on her bed. Her tears were dried on her cheeks, making her skin feel tight. She closed her eyes and tried to bury herself in good memories.

Rayne was found in the Palace Temple. She was just a fuzzy babe, according to Anya, red faced but silent, as if infuriated by her abandonment but aware of her helplessness to fix the situation. Anya had found her, before dawn services, during her usual morning prayers.

Rayne remembered playing in rich, lavish rooms, learning how to walk and falling on velvet pillows, wandering in lush gardens, always attended by two women: the elder, Anya, a dark-skinned, white haired, ageless crone, strict but loving, the other a matron, Dija, dark haired and pale, her eyes regal, but a loving mother.

She would run errands for them, sent to fetch small items or messages, or to ask a question or deliver an answer. The other people in the Palace soon grew to recognize her, and she became the Palace pet—greeted by the others in the halls, given treats by the chefs in the Kitchens, and loved by all.

Until the Others.

Rayne had no idea of who was around her until the week that her Dija met with the Prince and Princess in the country estate. There she learned that Dija was really the Empress Della of Ambrya, and that she, Rayne, was just a foundling, a servant in training. It was not so much the Imperial twins who taught this to her—after all, they were being raised with an orphaned Degla royal and a foreign cousin from Hugi. Nor was it the Prince and Princess—the brother and sister in law of the Empress—who forced her to this rude awakening. No, it was the servants themselves.

The servants of the country estate were mostly those of the Ishan people, those who had been conquered by the Gydians, the People of the Empire, generations ago. Yet they still kept themselves apart, due in part to pride. Therefore they scorned those who aspired to better their station by appeasing the Gydians, although the Ishan valued honest work, even if it was to their conquerors. To reconilce these beliefs, the Ishan were a formal workforce, doing their job and nothing more.

The servants at the country estate told the young girl that she was above her place, that she was a very lucky girl, and her fall would come someday. They told her that she was a plaything that would be thrown away. They had no care for a little girl’s feelings, and she avoided their company after the first two days, following the other children like shadows.

It had been wonderful until the assassinations. Then her world turned upside down again.

Rayne was adopted by the Empress officially at that time. The Ishan people sniffed, but the women sympathized secretly with the Mother of the Empire who could not bear children, and thought her a compassionate woman. The other mixed peoples thought it a fine thing that the Empress was not caught up in race issues, and the Gydians were appleased because at the same time, the Empress officially appointed Lord Sinjuin and Lady Yvonne de la Ambrya Heirs Apparent to the Empire.

The adoption changed Rayne’s life again. The nobles, who had always played with her, found her not so interesting anymore—at least to her face. She became an object of speculation and gossip behind her back. The servants treated her the same, but they too, wondered about her origin. The Empress had Rayne trained in weaponry and self defense, as well as the typical schooling for a Gydian noble. In this schooling the teachers had been surprised to learn of Rayne’s Talent for dance. Such Talent was usually reserved for the nobility of any race—and Rayne’s was so strong at ten that she rivaled her teaching mistress.

She tried, once, when she was thirteen, to run away. The silence and dignity she had tried to force upon herself had taken its toll, and she couldn’t bear to fail her beloved Anya and Dija.

She had read in the books about the city, and decided to become a courtesan—a rich, kept woman, paid for looking pretty and decorating a man’s arm sounded like a good enough way to earn money if you asked her.

She had gotten lost in a bad part of the city when a young woman approached her.

“Lookin’ for a job?” She had asked, the common accent heavy on her tongue.

The strange girl had stuck out a hand. “I’m Jewel. Want somethin’ ta eat?”

And Jewel had led Rayne to a whorehouse.

Jewel had suspected Rayne of idealizing a whore’s job, and this was confirmed by the young girl’s wide eyes at the scene in the tavern about her. Rayne had dropped a few unconscious hints about her home, and Jewel escorted her back to the Palace come morning. The Empress and Anya had been so relieved that they sent Rayne immediately to the baths and to bed, and ushered the young woman in and plied her with juice and treats until she told them the whole story. Dija and Anya both approved of the girl, regardless of her occupation, and invited her to join them when she could find the occasion. The four became close confidantes over the years, giving Rayne several perspectives on a woman’s life: the mutt background of Jewel, who had an Ishan mother and a Gydian soldier for a father, the mystic Rona background of Anya, and the mothering, strict honor and care of Dija.

Dija had Rayne learn the art of running a household, overseen by Anya, and then had her practice on the Palace. The gossip rose and fell in waves, fed by her subtle status in the Palace, but undermined by her quiet, retiring personality in public and refusal to respond to the rumors that swirled about her.

The gossip gradually increased over time as Rayne matured during her late teens to quite the beauty. Her Ishan heritage was apparent by her tanned skin and blonde hair, but where most Ishans had dark eyes, Rayne’s were a bright gold. Gold eyes, combined with her Talent, gave most enough pause to not critize the Empress for taking in a poor foundling. Seems that there was gold in the dirt after all.