by N M Zoltack
The guard furrowed his brows, his confusion amusing. That phrase was how she addressed each person who would ask for her aid. A good queen served the people. At least, that was the type of queen Rosalynne intended to be for as long as she wore the crown. Deep down, she still did not wish this.
If only her father still lived! And her brother. And Vivian not so very far away. Honestly, she would not mind if Aldith still lived too. Although she had betrayed her father, Aldith being alive meant that Rosalynne would not be queen. Then again, would Aldith have schemed as much as Sabine and her mother were? Who had been baby Bates’s father? Perhaps they would never learn his identity.
When the guard continued to hesitate, Rosalynne stifled a sigh. “What news brings you here?” she asked dryly.
“Oh, yes. I beg your pardon. Aldus Perez wishes to see you.”
“Does he?” Rosalynne pursed her lips.
“Now,” the guard added.
The queen blinked a few times. “How bold he has become,” she murmured.
“I’m sorry?” the guard said.
“I will go see him,” she said. “Why wouldn’t I?”
She nodded to her two guards, Wilfrid and Bernard. They dipped their heads in response.
“I will take you to him,” the guard with the goatee said.
“Very well. Lead the way,” the queen said.
Rosalynne had gotten around the situation of sitting on any of the thrones in the throne room by standing for the duration of the assembly. She wished to be as un-imposing as possible. Her father, once upon a time, had been most imposing when he would sit upon his throne. As the years passed, and he grew too wide and unfit to be able to walk, he ventured to the throne room less and less. It saddened Rosalynne to think about who he had been and what he had become.
The first guard marched out of the room and brought the others to the council room. Rosalynne suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. He had not needed to bring them himself but merely tell them where to go.
“Thank you,” she said as the guard moved to open the door for her.
His eyes alighted with shock as she closed the door behind her. Not one of the guards had entered. She did not wish for Aldus to not speak his mind, and he might hold his tongue if others were present. More and more, Rosalynne was realizing just how powerful the tongue could be, whether it wove falsehoods, deceit, or even tempered kindness. Not every gesture, even good ones, could be trusted. Not nowadays.
“You wished to speak with me?” Rosalynne said.
Aldus was standing at the table, his knuckles pressed against the table, on either side of an unrolled piece of parchment. A quill stood, the tip dipped in black ink. The man seemed a little frazzled, which concerned her. Normally, Aldus hid his emotions well. That even he seemed unnerved alarmed her.
“I have been going over the numbers myself. The treasurer, Ruling Queen Sabine’s treasurer, has alerted me to a most troubling truth.”
“And that is?” She crossed over to stand beside him. The parchment was clean, without any ink splats. The sea of numbers meant little to her as she did not know what they pertained to.
“As you know, Ruling Queen Sabine has taken it upon herself to host a week’s worth of festivities. Unfortunately, the balls, the feasts, the entertainment, all of it may well cost us nearly all of the reserve gold.”
Surprised and dismayed, Rosalynne swallowed hard. She hoped she had on an indifferent mask. The last wish she had was for Aldus to easily read her. No one should ever know what she was thinking. As with her crown and gowns, she must act the part of queen, regal and mature at all times. Somehow, she was not a girl anymore. Despite her years, she could not even be a teenage. No. She must be the queen at all times if she wished to be the ruler of Tenoch Proper one day. Whether that day would be soon or years away, she must be ready now to fulfill that role.
Even if Father never adequately prepared me for it himself.
“Forgive me,” she murmured. “I am rather perplexed to hear this news. How can it be that we are so poor? We… I am the royal of Tenoch Proper. The gold we have should be more than efficient to host a feast or festival or ball or any kind of event every day for a decade. How can a single week’s worth leave us without any coins at all?”
“Unfortunately, that is exactly the case. Your father, may his soul be with the Fates, had grown lax on many things over the years. His health, his inability to walk, his mind… He did not always listen to my advice. Unfortunately, he did not ever bother to replenish the treasury. That was why he had been so loved by the people. No taxes had been collected.
Rosalynne suppressed a wide grin. “Very well. You wish for us to collect taxes once more.”
“With your leave.” Aldus bowed at the waist.
“You have it. Go on and resume collecting taxes in Queen Sabine’s name.”
The advisor rose and smiled at her. He clearly approved of her request. While she appreciated that, it did little to make her believe he was truly on her side.
“I do not see why not,” he said. “Taxes will be collected in her name.”
“Excellent.”
“Do you see?” Aldus’s grin only grew. “I serve only the crown.”
“Yet you allowed my father to stop collecting taxes,” she pointed out.
He hesitated and slumped his shoulders. “Without his say so, I could not. My power was limited. But you and I, together, we can reshape Tenoch Proper. Create it into the dominion it had always been meant to be.”
“Perhaps,” she said. “Now, if you have no other matters to discuss, I have other duties to attend to.”
“Farewell, Queen Rosalynne.”
She blinked a few times before nodding to him and fleeing the room. Whenever anyone addressed her as that, she wished to correct them and say she wasn’t a queen.
But she was. For better or for worse, she was, and she would try to do her best to rule as justly as she could.
46
Queen Sabine Grantham
Dressed in one of her newest gowns, the same shade of blue as her eyes with layers of lace and beads and jewels, Sabine departed from the castle. Her guard trailed behind her. She had so many preparations yet to settle, menus to choose, the logistics of housing all of those coming from Vincana… But she would not forget her duties to the people here in Atlan.
Perhaps it was wrong for her to not see the other cities. Mayhap she could go and visit Olac and Cilla and maybe even the islands as well, but only after the week-long festivities. Oh! Yes! The visit throughout the lands could commence as a kind of maiden journey after she married and her husband was made king. That would be perfect.
Humming to herself, the queen ignored the outstretched hand of the footman and entered the carriage unassisted. Today, she sought to traverse more land than ever before, which necessitated using a method of transportation.
The guard clambered onto the back of the carriage, and they were off. The rolling hills made for a wonderful sight, and she smirked as they bypassed the marketplace. Rosalynne had tried to be a facsimile of Sabine and had failed disastrously. It was not kind to find enjoyment in another’s failure. Still, Sabine’s smile only grew.
The younger queen was not a threat at all. She might have the royal name, but that mattered not as she was not old enough to rule. Foolish girl. If she would wed, she might be an issue, but she seemed to have no plans to do that, not even with that fool Bjorn Ivano who would not even give Sabine a passing glance. Not that Sabine wanted attention from him, but respect? She demanded it, craved it, deserved it. After all, she was the ruler, not Rosalynne.
Could it be that Rosalynne was waiting for the festivities? Could it be that she also sought to marry a man from Vincana? The thought had the queen scowling furiously. As much as she hated the younger queen, Sabine could not deny that she was lovely. It would not do for Rosalynne to find a way to outwit her.
Marrying just any man from Vincana might not be enough. Sabine vowed to ask Aldus Perez which
men she might wish to marry. Then again, maybe she should ask another. Albert Leeson was the most knowledgeable man she knew. While she did trust Aldus and did not think he truly loved her, jealousy could alter a man to be vicious and dangerous. Then again, the notion of her marrying a man from Vincana had been his idea from the start. Perhaps she was seeing deceit everywhere from everyone. Her mother’s shadow truly was threatening, even more than Rosalynne’s, but Aldus had not once faltered.
Not that I wish to give him the chance to fail me.
The carriage halted, and this time, Sabine accepted the footman’s assistance down. She spread out her wide skirt and smiled.
Although the footman had halted beside a small bundle of dilapidated houses, not one person rushed over to greet Sabine. Nostrils flaring, she took a few steps forward.
Some children raced by. They splattered in the mud. Sabine jerked back, a verbal lashing ready to be expelled, but she forced a few somewhat calming breaths. A small, mocking smile settled on her lips.
“Won’t you please go and fetch your parents?” she asked kindly.
The tallest of the quartet straightened and stared at her. “We don’t have no parents.”
Orphans. She might have known. Their clothes were torn and covered in filth. Their feet were bare, and it appeared to her that they might never have bathed their bodies ever.
But it was no longer an issue as a small crowd began to gather. Sabine smiled graciously, sidestepping the orphans. Before she could utter one word, a few of the adults turned their backs and walked away.
She hesitated, confused and alarmed. Why were they not being as welcoming as before? This was not the first time she had ventured out this far, although it had been some time. Glancing over the women’s poor dresses, Sabine realized they might think her too far above them.
Well, that matter was easily resolved. After the week-long festivities, she would have another ball, this one for the commoners only. Perhaps there, she could announce her engagement to a man from Vincana. Yes, that might do quite nicely. The more the people would love her, the less of a threat Rosalynne could ever dream of becoming.
Now, if only she could discover what exactly her mother was scheming…
47
Cateline Locke
Princess Vivian had not intended to nap, but she had. When she stirred, she startled, uncertain where she was. Sleeping on a bed after so many long nights out of doors was such a shock to her body that her rest had been terrible.
Yawning, she sat up and stretched. Eyeing the door suspiciously, she stood and crossed over to it. Hesitatingly, her hand reached out for the knob.
Stop being ridiculous, Vivian. It’s only a door.
She turned the knob, and the door swung open quietly. As cautiously as could be, she slipped into the hallway. For some reason, she felt as if she were trespassing by walking around like this, but the mysterious man had given her a tour. Her door had not been locked. She was not a prisoner here.
Still, she felt as if she did not belong.
The air did not feel stale, yet the monastery maintained a presence of witnessing the rise and fall of civilizations, seemingly both ageless and aged. A place such as this may contain secrets, not that Vivian would pry. She had no reason to, and besides, she had a secret of her own.
“Cateline Locke,” she murmured to herself, reinforcing the alias she had chosen in case she were to run into anyone.
The hallways were lonely, and she spied no other persons, heard no other sounds at all. At the far end, she spied a spiral staircase, and she ascended to a tower.
Looking out over the land, she felt as free as a bird but also trapped. The people below in the streets seemed so small and yet happy. She envied them.
A bit disgruntled now, Vivian rushed down the staircase, bypassing her floor for the one below it. The first room she spied contained a large library, and she entered, drawn by the singular painting in the room. Her mouth hanging open, she approached. A massive dragon, golden and brown in color, hovered above a vibrant green landscape. She could see each scale, the muscles in its legs and torso. The wingspan was so impressive that the artist had not painted them fully. The claws were a bright silver that matched the dragons’ fangs. The creature looked so strikingly powerful that she shuddered.
“If they were real, I’m glad I never saw one.”
She glanced over the scrolls beneath the picture. Behind them were a few tomes, and she pried one out. Dust covered it, and she coughed and sneezed. The tome appeared ancient, worn and weathered. She handled it with great care as she cradled it to her chest and placed it on a nearby table. Not caring to sweep out her dress, she sat and opened the tome.
“Three dragons, all wise and benevolent. Man does not deserve their protection,” she read out loud slowly. The script of the words was so flowery and flourished that the words were hard to discern. “All three can see into the hearts of men. More often than not, they do not see goodness but maliciousness and malcontent.”
If the author had been alive while dragons lived, their peers were much the same as humans nowadays. But Vivian did not think the writer could have seen a true dragon. If they had existed, they had died out two thousand years ago.
She skipped a few pages and paused at one that contained a picture of a terrifying ghost-like figure, bones beneath a hooded cloak and no eyes. Vivian shuddered. What was such a creature?
Although frightened, she was too curious, and she began to read aloud again.
“If any of the dragons should see guilt, they will punish the human for their travesties against the realm. The dragons are so astute and sagacious they can even see when a person might commit crimes. If those people who are on that dark path will submit to the dragons, they are turned into wraiths. Wraiths haunt and scare people into being good, helping them to remember the true path. They are not permitted to touch a person. They cannot sentence a person to death as dragons can. Of course, if a person refuses to submit, the dragon will have no choice but to kill that person. Once the seed of evil has been planted within a person, none have been able to return to the light. Who can blame the dragons for their right to guide the humans toward goodness? If not for the dragons, humans would have fallen to rage, anger, hatred. Death and destruction is all they would ever know. With the dragons’ help, one day, humans may finally know lasting peace.”
Wraith. The soulless, eye-less, terrifying figure is a wraith. Vivian shuddered as she closed the tome and carefully returned it to its nesting place. If dragons truly did kill humans even before they committed a crime or subjected them to becoming a wraith, then Vivian was glad they had been killed. No one deserved to be punished for something they might do. Past crimes, yes, but future ones? No.
As dragons were no more, neither were wraiths, and that alone settled her. Somewhat.
48
Prince Marcellus Gallus
The clear blue waters stretched endlessly in every direction. Marcellus had spent most of the voyage so far in his quarters with Rufus. The two of them had been discussing Atlan and Tenoch and the war. Honestly, all of that talk was beginning to grate on Marcellus. He had stepped foot on Tenoch soil once before, but he had been merely five years old at the time. Now, fourteen years later, he was to return in a plot that would hopefully end with Tenoch Proper being converted to Vincana Proper.
If only the throne had cared about the islands instead of merely Tenoch, although according to his father from reports from the other cities, the king and now queen only cared about Atlan. Queens. There were two queens, a fact that Rufus liked to tease Marcellus about.
“One for each of us,” his friend had joked more than once.
Rufus Vitus was a charmer with many things, from women to swords to snakes. A fair amount of snakes, lizards, and other creatures lurked within Vincana. If one did not watch himself, he could find himself dead. However, the land was beautiful, and by all rights, the only place Marcellus would ever dare to live.
Rufus was a fool
if he truly thought Marcellus would try to find a match in either of the queens. Tales of the beauty of the Rivera princesses had reached Vincana, but Marcellus would not be ruled by his eyes or any other part of himself save for his brain. A match with one of them would be courting the enemy. It would be foolhardy. They wished for war, not an alliance. If he were to wed either of the queens, they would remain the ruler. That was not the plan. His father was King of Vincana. Soon, he would lord above all of the lands. Once he passed on, Marcellus would rule in his stead.
Finding a woman to marry either from Tenoch or Vincana or even elsewhere had little appeal to Marcellus. After, once he was crowned prince of Vincana Proper, then, he would find himself a lady to marry. His partner must be someone to bolster his power, his position, so perhaps someone from Tenoch would make a good choice. If he could convince some of the nobility to turn aside from Queen Sabine, perhaps one of their daughters would be a good choice.
He would just have to wait and see, talk and mingle, learn all he could past the smiles and dances. One could easily put on a mask concerning him or the queens. Were the nobles truly invested in either of the queens? After all, Sabine had not been crowned long before her husband died. How much did even the people of Tenoch care for her? As for Rosalynne, her claim was stronger, but her age worked against her. Marcellus thought it ridiculous that a female in Tenoch had to be older than a male to rule. In Vincana, males and females were treated equally. Why shouldn’t they be? The very thought of ladies being beneath him was so very counter to all Marcellus had been taught. Some of the fiercest warriors in all of Vincana were females. Through discipline, hard work, perseverance, and training, anyone could be fierce. Gender played little role in that.
From what he had learned from their farmers, Vincana grew plants that were not found on other lands. Some of the herbs lent both men and women strength. Perhaps in the world beyond Vincana, women truly were weaker. Hmm. Marcellus had not thought of that before, but he hadn’t a reason to.