by N M Zoltack
“To when the people were good and kept in check.”
“That’s our job now as guards,” Jurian said, “or have you forgotten?”
“I haven’t forgotten,” Edmund said through gritted teeth.
“Good. You should be happy that, right now at least, there’s peace. One day soon, you’ll be wishing we had this boring of a time serving our kingdom.”
Edmund had no answer. He finished stripping his armor and climbed into bed in his undergarments. A long time passed before sleep claimed him.
The sun hadn’t completely risen yet by the time Edmund decided that no more sleep would be had. Swiftly, he changed into a leather jerkin and breeches. Nothing fancy, but clothes that allowed full range of motion. Then he grabbed his sword and only his sword.
Edmund wasn’t about to head to the training grounds at the castle. The barracks was more on the outskirts of the city, whereas the castle was in the direct center. There were other grounds, however, that were clear of vegetation, covered in dirt and sand, perfect for training. The nearest, as luck would have it, was only a few steps outside the back door of the barracks.
Knees bent, Edmund sank into a defensive position and then jabbed forward with his blade. His muscles welcomed the chance to stretch and coil in ways they had long grown accustomed to.
On and on, Edmund dodged and parried imaginary strikes before lashing out and attacking an invisible foe. Before long, his body was covered in sweat, but still, he worked through various drills, relishing how the sword and his arm felt as if one.
“What is he doing?” someone called.
“Fighting the wind, it looks like.”
“There’s not a breeze today.”
“Then he’s fighting the air.”
“Look how winded he is! The air is winning!”
Edmund truly wasn’t breathing all that hard. He scowled and glanced over at the ones mocking him. It was unsurprising to see that each and every one of them had been among the class of knights ordained before him. They knew his parentage, that he wasn’t the son of a lord, that he had no true wealth. His parents were merchants who sold shoes.
For the most part, Edmund had avoided these guards, and he chose to ignore them now. Swiftly, he resumed his strikes and parries, training once more. After all, he had not yet decided if he would ask to be reassigned. Even if he didn’t, there remained a possibility that Jurian was right in his prediction. If that was the case, Edmund and every guard and knight would need to be ready for the fight for their lives.
But war wouldn’t come anytime soon, would it?
Edmund paused and glanced at the horizon, toward the rising sun. Everything did seem rather peaceful, but Tenoch had seen much bloodshed especially after the dragons three all fell. Perhaps it was only a matter of time before blood watered the fields once more.
6
Rase Ainsley
Rase Ainsley was doing his best not to think about food. He was hungry, always hungry. Lately, he had been eating almost every day, but the past two days, a morsel hadn’t passed his lips. If it weren’t for the promise he made to his sister, Leanne, he would have taken to eating worms long before now.
Considering that Leanne kept wanting to go off and find her friend who had been missing for a long while, Rase was more than willing to do whatever she wanted to keep her in their one-room house. He had spent a long time locating the friend. As it turned out, Maxene Byron was alive despite Leanne’s worries. She had been hit in the head and injured at a noble’s house. The son of an earl supposedly had taken to her, or so Maxene claimed. The whole situation didn’t sit well with Rase. He might be twelve and looked like he was only seven, but he could tell when something wasn’t quite right. He didn’t want Leanne near the Snells. Just because they were nobles didn’t mean they were good people.
Then again, Rase’s ma would yell at him for judging people he hadn’t met. He supposed that wasn’t the nicest thing, but he wanted to keep his sister safe. Maxene had already been hurt. Leanne didn’t need to be hit on the head with a flowerpot too.
Just then, the door opened, and Pa strolled in, carrying a small bag.
But that wasn’t the most surprising thing.
Pa was whistling.
Leanne glanced at Rase. “Did you know Pa could whistle?” she whispered.
Rase shook his head and sniffed. Something smelled delicious.
“What’s in the bag?” Rase asked eagerly.
“Now, now,” Pa said, his smile as wide as he was beginning to look thin. Pa had always carried some weight to him, but the years hadn’t been kind to any of them, and even Pa was thin. “Where’s your ma?”
“Out back,” Leanne said.
Pa’s smile slipped. They all knew that when Ma was out back, more times than not, she was crying.
Rase hated to see Pa so upset that he jumped out and rushed past Pa out the door and ran around the small shack that served as their house.
Ma wasn’t crying. She was twisting stems of flowers into a wreath.
Without glancing up, Ma asked, “What is it, Rase?”
“That’s pretty,” he said.
Now, she looked up and fixed him a curious stare. “That is not why you came out here.”
“Pa’s home. He’s asking for you.”
Ma beamed. When she smiled, she was beautiful.
Rase was confused. Why were his parents so happy? Especially since it had been so long since they had eaten. True, there had been more food in general lately, but none of them were eating quite enough yet.
The boy hadn’t forgotten that he wanted to find a job. Any position. He had worked in a tavern a few nights before he and his pa had ruined that. More so his pa because of his gambling. Once upon a time, they had farmland, not that Rase could remember it. He pieced together from arguments between his parents that his pa had gambled it away.
“Are you going to come in with me or stand out here staring at the grass?” Ma teased. “Come on, boy.”
Rase grinned, and the two of them joined their family inside. Pa hugged Ma close and kissed her forehead.
“For all of you,” Pa said as he proudly handed Ma the bag as if presenting her with a crown.
Ma giggled as if she were a girl. She opened the bag and gasped.
“What is it?” Leanne asked. His sister tried to look disinterested, but she wasn’t fooling Rase. She was as curious as he was.
“Biscuits,” Ma said excitedly. She dug out two and handed them to the Rase and Leanne.
Pa took the bag back. “And a fruit tart for my tart.”
Ma slapped his shoulder, her laughter ringing out.
Rase ignored everyone and tried to eat his biscuit slowly, but that was impossible. The first taste of the buttery dough, and he inhaled it in two humongous bites.
“Delicious,” he said around the last mouthful, crumbs spraying from his lips.
“Gross.” Leanne nibbled on hers.
Ma and Pa retired to the back corner, talking and feeding each other bites. Rase smiled. Was this happiness? Could things be turning around for them?
A few hours later, Leanne and Ma were both sleeping. Rase suspected Pa to be awake, and as Rase approached, sure enough, Pa opened his eyes.
“Where did you find the job?” Rase asked eagerly.
Pa said nothing.
“You found work, didn’t you?” Rase pressed.
Again, Pa remained silent.
Rase hesitated, confused. How else had his pa been able to get them that many biscuits and the fruit tart?
“I think that because you worked all of what, two days? That you think you can get another job,” Pa started.
Rase stuck out his chin. “I can, and I will,” he vowed.
“You don’t need to worry about that,” Pa snapped quietly. “Not until you have some meat on them bones of yours. You’re liable to fall asleep at any job and be fired.”
“I can stay awake all day,” Rase protested.
“And be productive
? Not have your mind all a mess?”
Rase tilted his head to the side. “I don’t know what you mean,” he finally said.
Pa sighed. “Are there times when you don’t remember a word? When your thoughts are all jumbled?”
Rase nodded sheepishly. “Why, Pa?”
“Hunger can do that,” Pa said. “So can not enough sleep. You need to be able to sleep and eat as much as the other boys your age, if not more. Don’t worry. We’ll get enough.”
“Enough to survive?” Rase asked.
Pa shook his head. “Enough to thrive.”
As much as Rase wanted to believe that, he didn’t know if he could. His pa had been bringing home more food lately, yes, but if he wasn’t working, where was the food coming from? If his pa did have a job, why wouldn’t he talk about it? Maybe he was ashamed, but Rase couldn’t think of a job that would be embarrassing. Anything that would get them food was good in Rase’s mind.
Still, it would be wonderful to never feel that painful hunger gnawing at him all day long. And to go to bed with a full stomach every night would be a dream come true.
His pa and ma were happy. Leanne was pleased that Maxene was alive and accounted for even if his sister hadn’t seen her friend in ages. Maybe Rase should be content and not think too much.
And definitely not think about how delicious that biscuit had been and how he wished he could have eaten a dozen more.
7
Queen Rosalynne Rivera
Rosalynne was beyond herself, beyond fear, beyond worry, beyond sorrow. She was so beyond everything that she felt nothing at all, merely a blank indifference. Although she knew this was only a mask she had slipped on so that she could endeavor to be the Queen of Tenoch Proper, she strove to wear that mask well.
For two days, everyone looked everywhere for Princess Vivian. Everyone. All of the guards, the maids and servants, those visiting, even Rosalynne herself with the assistance of Wilfrid and Thorley who refused to leave her side unless the other remained.
No one could find any sign of her. No one could tell if she had been kidnapped or taken or if she had left of her own accord. All anyone knew was that the princess was not anywhere within the castle.
Rosalynne could not bring herself to cry. She refused to for fear that if the tears started, they would never cease to fall. Instead, she dictated to Wilfrid and not Aldus Perez that she wished to have another assembly with the public. The guard had hesitated, and she knew he was recalling how disastrous her previous one had been. One look at her face, however, and Wilfrid bowed and rushed to do her bidding.
Now alone, Rosalynne made her way to the throne room. There, hanging on the wall, was the commissioned painting of the royal family. The sight of her father added to it only brought her sorrow. Gazing at Noll, who had been painted as taller than he had been truly in real life, caused tears to form. Shifting to stare at her sister, Rosalynne felt herself smile. Vivian had a beauty that was unparalleled. If she had been the older of the two, she would have already been courted, perhaps even married already.
I will not lose hope. You are safe. You are hiding somewhere. You will find a way to let me know where you are.
I hope.
The guard proved to be most efficient on that matter, and within two hours, Rosalynne found herself back on that balcony, staring down at her people. Previously, her brother and sister had stood behind her to give her support as had Advisor Aldus Perez and Vicar Albert Leeson. Now, only her two guards stood there. She hadn’t bothered to locate the advisor, and the vicar remained with her brother’s body.
Rosalynne held her head high and stood as tall as she possibly could to make herself appear stronger.
“My good people,” she said, speaking somewhat loud and yet soft. “I fear I must tell you troubling news.”
Rosalynne hesitated. Should she share the details of Noll’s death? Perhaps she had been a fool to not seek the advice of others before holding this assembly. Oh, well. She had not seen Sabine in days, and it was not as if she had asked the ruling queen’s permission to hold this assembly. This was all on Rosalynne’s shoulders, and she would tell them what she wished.
“My brother, your prince, Noll Rivera, has died. He fell down a flight of stairs…” She hesitated and then added, “And evidence suggests that he had been pushed and perhaps even attacked first. I wish to invite you all who would like to join me in one week’s time for your prince’s funeral.”
She had Noll’s entire body examined, every bruise and cut studied. Thankfully, guards had kept servants from the stairwell in question, and further investigation did not show enough blood there to explain his injuries. No, the prince had been attacked elsewhere and then pushed to his death. Or perhaps he had died before even being pushed? That no one could determine for certain, but all Rosalynne truly wished to know was when they would locate the fiend responsible for the prince’s death. Rosalynne would actually relish being able to give the order to kill the bastard.
“It’s just as well another Riveras’s dead!” a heckler called.
Rosalynne inhaled deeply, but she did not even have to lift a finger. Two of the guards posted down below in the courtyard moved immediately to secure the man. They carried him away, most likely to the dungeon. Rosalynne would see to him later.
“I do hope that many if not all of you will come. Noll was perhaps the best of us all. He was always such a happy boy.”
Her voice cracked on the last word. She pivoted about and fled the balcony. She had spoken the truth. Noll was perhaps the most beloved of the three. Yes, he could be trying at times, given that he had been dropped on his head as baby and acted like he was a child despite his age, but he had such an innocence to him. Whoever had killed him was a vile, wicked man, and he would be brought to justice.
Or woman. Either way, whoever his killer had been, he or she would face Rosalynne’s wrath. The fury of the Riveras now rested on her shoulders alone until Vivian was found, and until then, that fury was going to be wondrously monstrous.
The day of the funeral, the skies ripped open and drenched all those who attended the funeral procession. It seemed to Rosalynne that nearly double the amount of people had showed up for Noll’s funeral than her father’s. At the time, she had been impressed with her father’s. This was amazing if not heartbreakingly tragic.
Thankfully, no one heckled her on this terrible day, and the funeral went rather smoothly. If anyone noticed that the princess was not there, no one spoke of it. That Sabine and her mother Greta stood beside Rosalynne to be greeted by each and every person who bid farewell to the prince infuriated the queen, but she did not wish to create a scene by demanding they leave. Gradually, the last of the well-wishers departed, leaving only the two queens, Greta, and Rosalynne’s guards. Rosalynne was beginning to think of them as her shadows, and somehow, their constant presence no longer annoyed her.
“We are so very sorry for your loss,” Sabine said. She glanced at her mother.
“So deeply saddened where we when we heard the news.” Greta spread out her arms for a hug.
Rosalynne stepped back to nearly stand between her guards. “I appreciate that,” she said mildly.
“Have you any suspicions as to who could have done such a terrible thing?” Greta asked, slowly lowering her arms.
“That is for me to know,” Rosalynne said stiffly.
In a word? No. No suspicions. None could wish to harm Noll, not if they truly knew him. Yes, he might accidentally ruin a dish in the kitchen or trip and fall and break something or spill ink all over his sister’s new gown, but nothing he had ever done had warranted the need for someone to kill him.
Which made Rosalynne wonder if the murderer was not done yet. What if Noll had not been their target? Or what if Noll hadn’t been the only target?
Maybe Vivian had suspected this. Maybe she had fled of her own accord to prevent herself from being the next target. Maybe she was alive yet.
With Vivian gone and Noll dead, if the mur
derer was going after all of the Riveras, then that left only one to be killed.
Rosalynne.
That was why she now embraced having her guards with her at all times.
Sabine and Greta were prattling on about how very sorry they were, but Rosalynne was not listening. She was too busy allowing her thoughts to bounce from one idea to another.
It was entirely possible that Noll had overheard something that he should not have. Noll had a tendency to listen in on other people’s conversation, a fact that had only soured their relationship for an entire month. When Rosalynne had just turned thirteen, she had kissed a baron’s son. Kendrick Dalton. He hadn’t been the best kisser that Rosalynne had ever experienced, not that she had kissed many boys and especially not after Noll told Vivian about the kiss. Of course, then her younger sister, all of ten years at the time, thought she should have a kiss as well, and their father had found out about her quest to find someone to lock lips with. Rosalynne and Vivian both had been punished, banished to their rooms for an entire week straight. They could not even eat supper with their family. All of their meals had been in their rooms.
Rosalynne clapped her hands. “Sabine,” she said far warmer than she had ever said the woman’s name before.
The ruling queen blinked in surprise, clearly recognizing the odd tone.
“Yes?” Sabine asked.
“How are you willing to go around without any guards in these troubling and fearsome times? Please. You must have one.”
“Oh, I can find one once I return to the castle.” Sabine smiled brightly. “That is an excellent idea. Thank you for considering me. I do not think myself to be a target.”
“Oh, but you might be. We are certain Noll was killed. Vivian might be dead as well. If all of the Riveras are targets…” Rosalynne trailed off.
“I am not a Rivera,” Sabine protested.
“But you are,” Rosalynne said sweetly. “You married my father.” She turned and patted Thorley’s arm. “Won’t you accompany the ruling queen from now on? Guard her for me?”