Royal Blood

by Faith Soprano

  It was hard for the king to come to terms with the land becoming smaller, but it was the only way to keep from sinking into insurmountable debt. He told himself that his people no longer needed this much land, because so many of his subjects were now dead.

  Elloriann watched as her father struggled to recover everything the storm had taken, uncertain of whether she would have been able to perform the duties of the monarch in the face of such tragedy, and whether she’d be able to do so in the future, when her time to rule inevitably came.

  It took a long time, but those who remained made slow, steady progress toward making their lives what they had once been. For years, life in Evlirone edged closer to survival than prosperity. But eventually the royal treasury started to fill up again, the farms and factories were once again producing at full capacity.

  When the king at last paid off the debts, he lowered taxes as much as he could in order to give his people hope for the future, and discourage them from theft and evasion of payment. People celebrated it as an important milestone on the road to true recovery.

  But Evlirone was still but a pale replica of the prosperous state it had once been. With the population lowered and so much of the land still in ruin, the best thing for the land would be a partnership with one of its neighbors.

  And what better way to create such partnership than marriage between royal heirs?

  With a heavy heart and a guilty conscience, the king sent Elloriann to the land of Mordielle, to meet its prince.

  Elloriann did not resist. Like most people she dreamed of marrying for love, but like most royalty she knew that she was unlikely to enjoy such a future. She had always known that a day would come when she would have to marry one of the royals from a nearby land, and she was as prepared as one could be for such a fate.

  So she got into the carriage and traveled to Mordielle, where her future and the future of her land would be decided.

  5

  When Carla had first been taken by the bandits, Evlirone was still in such a terrible state that slave trade was difficult. Even the rich did not have enough to spare to purchase slaves. So Carla’s captors took her to a neighboring land, one that had not suffered as much from the storm, and one where slavery was not against the law. They gained less there for the slaves than they did in the lands where slave trade was unlawful, but the transactions were easier and less risky, so it was a choice that slave traders often made when times were tough.

  There Carla was sold to an earl’s estate. She worked mostly in the flour mills. It wasn’t as bad as she’d feared it would be. She had a bed in one of the barracks, was provided with clothing and footwear, as well as daily meals. If she performed her duties well, no one hurt her.

  There were no dreams in such a life, of course, no future prospects, and no pleasures. The ‘unpaid servants’, as Carla’s owners liked to call it, were not allowed to entertain any interests outside of their duties, nor to leave the premises at any time. They had no means to purchase anything, and even the clothes they wore were not truly their own.

  The only joy the servants found was in communicating with each other in the barracks at night. They’d play quiet games and tell jokes, trying their best not to make any noise so as not to attract the wardens’ attention.

  But eventually any relationships that had been formed were snuffed out by fear when two of the slaves were beaten to death in from of the others. They were found kissing behind a shed when they were supposed to be working. The wardens gathered everyone up in front of the barracks. All the slaves were then made to watch as the two offenders were slowly killed before their eyes.

  After that, the slaves hardly ever talked to one another. At night, the barracks remained quiet but for the occasional sobbing, moans of pain, or whimpers of someone in the grip of a nightmare.

  Carla spent almost 3 years there. During the first year she still hoped that she would somehow escape, though she could hardly imagine where she would go, and what she would do. She didn’t even know where she was, or how to get home. Not that there was a home to get back to.

  After 2 years, even that hope was almost gone, and Carla soon made her peace with the knowledge that she would someday die there, carrying flour bags, or killed by one of the wardens.

  The earl, however, was a gambler. He soon lost much of his fortune in card games, and was forced to sell his land and his slaves.

  Some of the slaves were sold directly to new owners, while others, like Carla, were sold back to slave traders. Once again, Carla crossed borders, and was now sold to work in the stables of the royal estate, owned by none other than the queen and king of Mordielle.

  *****

  On her way to Mordielle, Elloriann thought of many things. She lamented her fate as she thought of how unfair it was that royals were paired up with each other for the sake of political connections and financial gain. Then she felt bad about lamenting her fate as she thought of all the people in her land and in others who were far less fortunate than she was. Perhaps many of them would be happy to take her place, and would find her hardships quite laughable compared to the struggles of their own lives.

  She wondered what the Mordielle prince would be like, if she would like him. She never had much interest in men, but if she were to marry this prince, she had to hope that she would one day learn to love him. After all, her parents had loved each other despite having been placed into their marriage by royal obligation as well.

  Elloriann had never seen that love, however. She had no reference for familial love, and she wondered, as she looked out of the window of her carriage, if that was a good thing. If, perhaps, her loveless marriage would be less of a disappointment because she’d never learned to expect anything more than whatever this fixed royal partnership would end up being.

  Her father had asked her to marry the Mordielle prince, but could not order her to do so. If she were truly unhappy with the man she’d meet, she could say no. It was no great comfort, however. If she chose to reject the marriage, she would let down her father and all the people in her land.

  And then there was the possibility that the prince would reject her, and though some part of her wished for that to happen, she feared it just as much. This partnership was needed for the good of her land. This was what she had to do for her people at this time.

  As far as royal marriages went, this one wouldn't be the worst kind. Both Elloriann and the prince of Mordielle were direct heirs to their lands' thrones, neither one of them had less power than the other, which meant that in this marriage, they would be equals. Evlirone and Mordielle shared a border, so when the time came, they could both rule their respective lands from one castle. However, Elloriann couldn't help but wonder if, perhaps, they could simply stay in their own lands, their own homes, and only meet occasionally, without ever having to live together. After all, this was an arranged marriage designed to create an alliance. Neither one of its participants was particularly interested in spending time with the other.

  This all would need to be decided at some point in the future. For now, Evlirone needed to make sure that Mordielle would be its ally, rather than a potential threat. And Elloriann marrying its prince was the surest way to achieve that goal.

  When Elloriann arrived in Mordielle, she was welcomed by the king and queen. They were more polite than kind, but that was as much as she’d expected. The prince himself was not yet available to meet her, so Elloriann was offered to wait for him inside.

  She was shown to the room where she’d be staying. Gerome was offered a room in the servant wing. Elloriann changed into a dress that had been sewn specially for this occasion. Then she sat down on the bed and waited to be summoned.

  An hour passed. Servants had arrived with food and drinks. Elloriann wondered if the prince was truly busy, or if he simply did not wish to return, savoring the last moments of his freedom, before he would be fitted with a wife and a future in which he had no say.

  As more time passed, Elloriann got restless. She c
hanged out of her beautiful dress into more comfortable clothing, then slipped out of her room and out of the castle.

  The royal courtyard was immense, and far richer than what Elloriann enjoyed back home. Her simple clothing allowed her to travel unnoticed among servants and traders. She walked around the castle premises, wondering if she might eventually run into the prince. A part of her hoped that meeting him like this, in private, without the pressures of an official introduction and the rules that were to be followed in such events, would give them better chances at forming a bond, at liking each other.

  She was wrong.

  She eventually reached a set of wooden buildings some distance away from the castle, where she saw a young man screaming at a servant. She had misplaced his riding crop, not for the first time, and he was furious.

  Elloriann watched on in disdain; but this was not uncommon behavior for the rich and powerful, and it was hardly the first time she’d witnessed such a scene.

  But then the man picked up a heavy whip and hit the servant with it. As she fell to the ground, he kicked her in the stomach, all the while shouting promises of worse punishments to come. Elloriann could no longer watch in silence.

  6

  “Leave her be!” Elloriann said as loudly as she could without shouting.

  She did not wish to start a confrontation with an obviously violent person, but she hoped that if she announced her presence and her disapproval of his actions, it would make the man stop.

  “And who might you be?” the man said with a sneer, turning slowly to face Elloriann.

  His movements were predatory, aimed to threaten and subdue.

  “Who I am doesn’t matter. You need to stop.”

  “Do I?” The man laughed in derision. “Do you know who I am? How dare you give me orders!”

  “Who you are doesn’t matter either.”

  “Oh, but it does. I am Prince Rondall. I do as I please. And you best run along if you value your life.”

  Elloriann gasped. This was the prince of Mordielle. The one she was supposed to marry, to live with, to have children with. And he was beating a servant half to death without reserve or remorse.

  Elloriann had wished to meet the prince in a place where he felt comfortable, where he was himself. And she certainly got what she wanted.

  When the prince saw the shock on Elloriann’s face, he believed to have made an impression by announcing his status. Satisfied with the result, he turned back to the servant and raised the whip once more.

  “Your highness,” Elloriann said bitterly. “I think you’ll find that you are expected at the castle. The princess of Evlirone arrived hours ago. She and your parents are waiting for you.”

  Elloriann hoped that this would force the prince to stop his assault on the servant. It was her best idea short of engaging him in a sword fight. And she had not brought a sword.

  “Oh, fine!” The prince huffed in annoyance, then turned to the servant. “I am not finished with you.”

  Then he turned and walked toward the castle. This was all an inconvenience to him, this meeting with the princess. The marriage was arranged, there was no point for them to meet one another and pretend as though the impressions they made on each other made any difference. But he would suffer through the politeness if it meant he would one day have power not only in Mordielle, but in Evlirone as well. He hoped someday he could even merge the lands. Mordielle was bigger and stronger, it only made sense for it to take over Evlirone altogether. And it was easier to do so through marriage than through war.

  Once the prince was out of sight, Elloriann ran toward the servant and kneeled beside her.

  “Are you all right?” she asked nervously, checking for injury.

  There was some blood, but Elloriann suspected that most of the damage was hidden by the servant’s clothing.

  “I’ll live,” the servant replied hoarsely. “For now.”

  “He meant it, didn’t he? That he’s not done with you?”

  “He does usually keep his promises when they involve violence.”

  “I see.”

  Elloriann wasn’t sure what to do, and if she could do anything. They often say not to bring your own rules into someone else’s land, but she felt responsible somehow for this stranger. What was the point of stopping the prince if she was now going to leave the servant here, to wait for his further wrath?

  “Thank you,” the servant said quietly. “For...that. Saving me.”

  “I fear the rescue is only temporary.”

  “I still appreciate it.”

  Elloriann smiled at the servant, though her smile appeared far more sad and guilty than she had intended.

  “I’m Ell, by the way.”

  “Nice to meet you. I’m Carla.”

  Carla thought she was finally ready to rise, but she winced as the pain in her back renewed with movement. Elloriann caught her as she almost fell back to the ground. They sat back down to allow Carla more time to recover.

  “We need to have you looked at. Is there a doctor around here?”

  “Not for the slaves,” Carla said, attempting to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

  Elloriann froze.

  “Slaves?” she asked in terror. “You’re a slave?”

  For a moment Carla feared that her savior was now regretting ever helping someone who turned out to be a slave, but the emotions in Ell’s eyes assured her that this was not the case. It was something else, but she wasn’t sure what, nor how to approach it.

  “I’m sorry,” she said; because she did not know what else to say, and taking blame in any situation was something one learned quickly in slavery.

  “The royal family owns slaves?” Elloriann asked. “Is it...is it not against the law?”

  “Not in Mordielle.”

  Elloriann felt a cold, tingling sensation run through her entire body, for a second she felt as though she might faint. Not only was she meant to marry a cruel, entitled prince, but her land was to be allied with one where slavery was commonplace. She knew slave trades happened in Evlirone as well, but the practice had been outlawed several generations prior, and the ruler of the land was fighting rather than embracing it.

  She felt ashamed of herself for not knowing more about Mordielle's laws. She had studied the laws and traditions of nearby lands, but they frequently changed, and the fact that slavery was not unlawful in Mordielle had somehow escaped her. When her father suggested that she marry Mordielle's prince, Elloriann had simply assumed that he'd made sure this was a safe alliance, and it had not occurred to her that it might be a land that still practiced slavery. She felt sick to find out about it this way.

  But this was not the time to fall apart. Elloriann needed to take care of Carla. Before anything else, her wounds needed to be tended to. So she took a deep breath and focused on the problems before her.

  Carla watched Elloriann’s face with worry. She went pale, and her eyes went unfocused for a moment. But then she collected herself and gently touched Carla’s shoulder.

  “Is there any medical help available for slaves?” Elloriann asked.

  “If a slave is injured during work, a healer will be called in. But minor wounds, especially those caused by punishment by an owner are generally left untreated.”

  “I see,” Elloriann said, taking a steadying breath. “Do you think you can walk now? I’ll find a doctor for you.”

  Carla rose. It was still painful, but bearable.

  “Where?” she asked as Ell was helping her walk, guiding her gently toward a destination only she knew. “Where are we going?”

  “To the castle. Well, to the servants wing. I don’t think I can march you into the castle unnoticed, but I’m sure the servants wing will have a healer somewhere.”

  Carla felt panic settling in her chest. The slaves were not allowed in the castle, or anywhere near the castle.

  “I can’t...”

  “Don’t worry. If something goes wrong, you’ll be under my protection.”
r />   “I...I know you told the prince that it didn’t matter, but...who are you, really?”

  Elloriann let out a sad, nervous giggle.

  “I’m the princess of Evlirone.” She sighed deeply. “And I am to marry Prince Rondall.”

  7

  Carla stared at Elloriann for a moment, then quickly lowered her eyes. She was not supposed to look up at royalty. That rule had been made very clear to the slaves.

  Elloriann picked up on that quickly and felt terrible.

  “Please, don’t do that,” she said in a pleading tone. “You can look at me, you don’t have to bow.” That did not quite have the desired effect as Carla was simply too scared of the consequences of breaking the rules. Elloriann kept trying to reassure her. “You’re not even my subject. I’m Evlirone’s royalty, not Mordielle’s.”

  “The slaves are everyone’s subjects,” Carla said, still looking down at the ground.

  “I’m sorry,” Elloriann said.

  Carla’s fear, instilled in her by years in slavery, could not be remedied quite so quickly or simply, so they walked to the castle in silence, with Carla tense and scared, and Elloriann feeling angry and guilty.

  When they arrived at the servant wing, Elloriann spotted Gerome and walked toward him.

  “What happened?” Gerome noticed the injured stranger beside Elloriann and hurried toward them to help.

  “She was attacked,” Elloriann explained as she helped Carla take a seat at the table outside the entrance to the servant wing. “She needs a healer. She's a slave, they don't really have a healer here, but maybe we could find someone who can help her.”

  “I’ll try to find help,” Gerome offered. “My room is the 5th to the left on the first floor. You can take her there.”