by N M Zoltack
“Go on,” Ulric murmured in her ear.
“Go on and do what?” she asked.
“Pick a place to sit.”
“Oh.”
Vivian glanced all around and headed toward a small table in the back that was isolated from the rest of the establishment. At the last moment, a hard-looking woman slid into one of the seats.
“Excuse me,” Vivian said pleasantly enough. “I was going to sit there with my friend.”
“I’m sitting here,” the woman said, sounding bored and annoyed.
“Yes, well… there’s enough room for my friend and I. May we join you?”
“No.”
Vivian frowned. She was growing rather perturbed. “Do you have more joining you?”
“They’re already here, doll.”
By now, the princess was thoroughly confused. No one else was sitting at the table. “They’re here?”
“Yes.” The woman beamed at Vivian. She was missing a few teeth, and one was as black as ink.
Ulric sighed and steered her away, guiding her to the counter. There wasn’t a stool for her to sit on, so Vivian had to stand. She nodded to anyone who glanced her way.
“Stop it,” Ulric muttered out of the corner of his mouth after he had ordered them some watered-down wine and some meat pies.
“Stop what?” she asked, even more perplexed.
“You’re acting too much like a lady. In case you haven’t noticed, this is not the best of establishments.”
Vivian glanced all around. Now, she could see the knives and swords at all of the men’s sides and some of the women’s too. So many looked fierce and tough. It was almost as if they were gearing up for a fight.
“Why did you bring me here then?” she muttered, facing front again.
The bar wench slapped their glasses of wine before them. Some of Vivian’s splashed out onto the already-stained wooden counter.
“Because you insisted on it.”
Vivian opened her mouth to argue, but she supposed he was right.
The two waited in silence for their food, and when it arrived, Vivian proceeded to eat. After only a few spoonfuls, Ulric shook his head.
Annoyed, she paused, the spoon halfway to her mouth. “What now?” she grumbled.
“You will never blend in.”
“How so? What am I doing wrong now?”
He nodded down the counter, and she spied a woman slurping from her bread bowl. Some of the broth was spilling out of her mouth and onto her clothes. Several others were eating just as savagely.
“I will never eat like that,” Vivian said, scandalized.
“You had better start if you don’t want to get caught,” he warned.
He himself wasn’t slurping his food, she realized sourly, but he did seem to blend in better than she did.
This was not the life she wanted for Ulric. It certainly wasn’t the life she wished for herself. When he handed the bar wench all of the coins he had in his possession, Vivian knew what she must do.
She finished eating and laid a hand on his shoulder. “You do realize that you would be better off helping to protect Rosalynne, don’t you?”
“I’m not a guard,” he protested.
“You claimed to be mine.”
“That’s all I’m good for.”
She bristled. “Ah, yes, so the lesser princess gets the guard who isn’t truly a guard. Of course. Because her life isn’t that important.”
“Your life is important,” he said. “If I hadn’t thought that, I wouldn’t have dragged you from the castle. I may have saved your life!”
“And you may have prevented me the chance of ever seeing my sister again. It’s only her and me now.”
“I never intended—”
“Intentions are all well and good, but it is life that truly matters. Nothing else.”
“I am trying to preserve your life,” he said.
Vivian nodded. “I know, but I still feel as if there is more that you can do elsewhere.”
“Perhaps that is true, but that does not matter.”
She smiled at him. “Perhaps not. If you will excuse me, I have to…”
He nodded, and Vivian made her way toward the toilets but then doubled back and exited the tavern. Swiftly, she untied their horse and scrambled onto his back. She flicked the reins, and the horse bolted. She was just leaving the town when she spied Ulric leave the tavern. He yelled and waved his arms, but Vivian giggled. She headed around the town and climbed the large hills. Hopefully, she would be able to find a way to stay in Olac until the city learned news that Noll’s killer would be found. She wished with all of her heart that the murderer would be found swiftly. Most likely, she would not be able to return to Atlan in time to see the execution, but that would not matter, so long as she could return home.
13
A Failure of a Guard Ulric Cooper
Ulric never should have allowed the princess out of his sight. Why had he been so foolish? While under the stars and traveling the great outdoors, he hadn’t given her that much privacy for her to do her business. He shouldn’t have here, especially considering some of the looks the men were giving her. Even worn from terrible sleep, the long days of travel, and her grumpy demeanor, Vivian remained beautiful.
Now, she had run off with their horse, and he had no means to go after her.
Unless…
Ulric turned back to the post where the other horses were tied. If he weren’t such an honorable man, he would think about taking one and tearing after her. Why shouldn’t he? He would be doing all of Tenoch Proper a favor if he kept her safe.
With a deep breath and hoping no one would notice, he headed toward the post.
“What are you doing?” a young boy called out.
Ulric grinned at him and squatted down. “Fetching my horse.”
“I saw you and your girl come in. She was purdy. She took the horse already. Guess she doesn’t like you.”
The wannabe guard grimaced. The boy spoke truly. Vivian didn’t like him, and Ulric honestly didn’t care. He had fallen in love with her sister months ago. He had tried to train himself how to use a sword because he longed to be one of Rosalynne’s guards. How could he serve and protect the queen when he couldn’t even keep the princess as his sole charge safe?
By now, some of the other persons from the tavern were leaving and collecting their horses, and Ulric was given glowers and nasty glares for standing in the way. There was no means for Ulric to steal a horse now.
Head down, grumbling all the while, Ulric left the town. He struggled to locate her horse’s hooves so he could at least trail behind her, but the wind had picked up, sliding sand and dirt around and rustling the grass blades so he could not tell which had been bent.
After a fruitless, wasted hour, Ulric had to face the fact that the princess had successfully evaded him. He was not going to be able to catch up to her, and he had no idea where she was going.
All Ulric could do was return home. Maybe Vivian had the right of it. Maybe he could help to watch over and protect the queen.
Why, then, did he wish that his charge remain the headstrong and infuriating princess instead?
14
Queen Rosalynne Rivera
The days were long, the nights longer. Rosalynne was doing her best to eat, but she had no appetite. Her maids had had to alter her dresses smaller twice now because she could not keep weight on.
Advisor Aldus Perez and Vicar Albert Leeson were doing all they could to discover a possible list of suspects for Noll’s murderer, but honestly, they were making no progress at all. This infuriated Rosalynne to no end.
On this surprisingly chilly day, Rosalynne wandered along the castle perimeter and halted where dried blood remained yet from her brother’s passing. The sight repulsed her, but she bent down anyway and touched the stained blades.
“I will find your killer,” she vowed.
The wind blew stronger as if her brother was trying to hug her.
&
nbsp; She embraced herself to ward off the chill, straightened, and gazed upward. Who all lived on the same floor as the top of the stairwell where Noll had been pushed? Although it was possible that someone had lured Noll to that stairwell and that person’s room was located elsewhere in the castle entirely so as to cast suspicion elsewhere.
Rosalynne frowned. This was a most troubling venture, a most turbulent time, and she longed to have her sister beside her. Hadn’t she just settled on having Vivian as one of her advisors? She hadn’t ever the chance to inform that decision to Vivian. How her sister would have enjoyed that proposition!
Alas, her sister had fallen, whether in death or just out of Rosalynne’s life, and she must continue to live on.
Is this to be my curse? That I bear the crown but have no family?
Footsteps approached, and Rosalynne shifted farther down the castle wall so that whomever it was did not realize the precise spot she had been standing. Once satisfied of her location, she glanced over.
Bjorn Ivano, the stoic, handsome young man who had won the tournament, approached her. Even when she had pronounced him the winner, the man from Maloyan hadn’t smiled. His features were as sharp as he was passive, and he seemed a most valiant man even if a bit indifferent.
“My Queen,” he said, reaching for her hand, bowing over and then kissing her knuckles.
She did her best not to wince. Everyone called her that, but was she imagining it, or had Bjorn stressed the My?
“I hope the sun seeks you always,” she murmured.
He almost but not quite grinned. “She always does. How are you?”
“Well enough.”
His gaze wandered over her, and she did her best to not appear self-conscious. Her maid needed to adjust this gown. It hung on her almost too-thin frame. A fortnight ago, it had fit her perfectly.
“I have sought you out for one reason and one reason alone.”
Rosalynne’s eyes closed. If he were to propose, she would decline merely by asking for more time. If he wished to depart for Maloyan, she would bid him safe travels. What else could he have to say?
“I wish for you to know that I will aid you in any venture that you have need of me,” he said, almost but not eagerly.
She lifted her eyebrows, the only show of shock that she dared to reveal.
He nodded. “I promise you my assistance. I am nothing but your humble servant.” Saying this, Bjorn fell to one knee.
Touched despite herself, she motioned for him to rise. “Thank you,” she said warmly, “for your generosity.”
“Do you accept then?”
She hesitated and dipped her head. The queen feared that accepting would give the young man ideas. She was not ready for marriage even though it may yet prove to be the only way for her to out Sabine and be the sole Queen of Tenoch Proper.
If Bjorn was upset that she did not forthright accept his aid, he did not show it and instead dropped the subject. “Have you broken your fast yet?”
Rosalynne opened her mouth to lie and say she had. Instead, her tongue deceived her. “I have not. Will you accompany me?”
“I would be honored too.”
The young man offered her his arm, and she found that far easier to accept. Mayhap his presence would encourage her to eat more. Time would tell.
After eating a fair amount, that was to say precisely half the amount as Bjorn but more than Rosalynne had been consuming for breakfast for a week now, she bid the young man farewell.
Rosalynne had some time this morning before she was to meet with Advisor Aldus Perez. To occupy her time, she opted to go to the royal library. What felt a lifetime ago, she had started to read about the Li family. Surprisingly, none of the scrolls she had founded mentioned the Lis that her father had killed. Why was that? Had someone removed the scrolls?
It was entirely possible that her father had ordered them burned, but if Rosalynne knew Vicar Albert Leeson, and she did, he never would have allowed that burning to take place.
After searching the entire library for even a hint of a mention of that particular Li family, Rosalynne knew without a doubt that the scroll or scrolls had been removed. Although it might mean that her meeting with the advisor would start late, she sought out the vicar in his chapel.
Rosalynne did her level best to not look at the altar where her dead brother had laid in wait until his funeral.
“My Queen,” Vicar Leeson said, sweeping into a bow. He had been polishing the statue of the Fate of Life.
“Tell me about the Lis my father killed. The king and the queen.”
The vicar blinked in surprise and clasped his hands in front of him, his cleansing cloth hanging limply in his hands.
“Why are you worrying over this now?” he asked timidly.
“Why not?” she demanded. “Noll was murdered. They were murdered.”
“They were not murdered. They were—”
“Killed by my father so that he could assume the crown.”
The vicar lowered his head. “He only did so in order to prevent deaths of thousands.”
“Killing two people is terrible,” Rosalynne said firmly.
“You have had a change in heart.” There was a faint coloring to his words. Surprise? Pleased?
“Death has a way of changing people,” she said. “I believe you have said similar in the past.”
The vicar nodded. “I have, and it does. It changed your father.”
“Not so much the killing of the Li rulers,” she said. “My father was once a great ruler. You said so.”
“I have.”
“But once my mother died…”
“Yes, that was the death that marked the change in your father. We all are human. We all have our tipping points. Deaths tend to be the most powerful tipping point of all.”
“There is some secret with the Lis that you are helping to hide,” Rosalynne said slowly. “isn’t there? Father wanted the scrolls all burned, but the family did not live that long ago. I can go out and ask the people, and they will tell me.”
“Yes, that they would. Your father wished for you to not learn this until he thought you fully understood what the weight of the crown entailed.”
“I am wearing that crown now,” she pointed out.
“Yes, but you are not yet the ruler.”
She gnashed her teeth. “If you do not tell me, I will learn from—was the queen pregnant?”
“The queen had been, yes.”
Tears prickled Rosalynne’s eyes, and she blinked them back as furiously as she could. “Did… Did my father know? Or suspect?”
Please, please tell me my father did not knowingly kill an expectant woman!
The vicar closed his eyes.
Rosalynne stalked out of the chapel. Her father may have tried to stave off a war, but who was certain that war would have been realized? People spoke of war all the time, but that did not mean they would truly move to act. Yes, the Vincanans were a strong, militant people, and if they had come to Tenoch, it might well have been that Vincana Proper would have been forged in lieu of Tenoch Proper. If the Vincanans had come, the Li family would have been decimated all the same.
Had their destiny always been that of serving the Fate of Death to the point of extinction?
Rosalynne rushed around the corner and was able to halt in time so that she did not plow into Bjorn.
The young man gazed at her. “Are you quite all right, My Queen?”
“I am.”
She blinked up at him and made a decision. As much as possible, she needed allies, and while she was not certain he would truly demonstrate to be one, she also needed to determine who might use her and prove to be a foe.
“I accept your promise,” she murmured. “When I have need of you, I will most certainly seek you out.”
“Wonderful.”
The queen favored him a smile and rushed away. She was indeed going to be late for her meeting with the advisor, or, rather, he had been early. After all, the meeting could not b
egin without her.
15
Sir Edmund Hill
Edmund knew better than to ask Jurian for another favor. The knight hated Tatum without having truly met her. Clearly, the female alchemist had given away her profession to him somehow, or perhaps she had merely given the guards her name and said whom she was waiting for. Edmund had talked to Jurian at length about Edmund’s future sister.
Jurian wasn’t exactly a friend of Edmund’s, but he was the one guard Edmund spoke to the most. Whomever Edmund were to ask to cover for him would require a favor in return. Edmund could only hope that the guard would not ask for something Edmund wasn’t willing to do.
Because of his late start to the day, Edmund had no chance to speak to anyone before he had to leave. He had to make rounds along the outskirts of Atlan this day, and it wasn’t until well past suppertime that Edmund finished. The day had been uneventful, but given his lack of sleep, the energy spent during his training, and that he did not break his fast until well past midday meant Edmund was beyond exhausted. Without even bothering to eat another meal, Edmund collapsed into his bed and slumbered far more peacefully than he had in recent weeks.
When he woke, the soreness and stiffness in his muscles nearly made him wince. How could he have allowed himself to become so lax with his training? The other guards shouldn’t have laughed at him. They should have joined him.
Jurian slumbered yet, and besides, Edmund never intended to ask Jurian for another favor, not when the knight would realize the reason behind the request was the female alchemist. Instead, Edmund glanced around the bunker as he changed into his attire for the day. None of the guards there appeared to be ones he thought might be willing. Thankfully, as he broke his fast, he saw Simba Pretorius enter the mess hall. With skin darker than night and a smile wider than his nose was long, Simba tended to keep to himself. As such, Edmund would often sit with the guard at mealtimes. They mostly sat in silence, but they had discussed their duties on a few occasions.