by RA Lewis
Kalina’s Valdir council members were already present, as were a few of the Ethean noblemen and one woman. That was the first thing she’d done once she’d taken the throne: allowed women on the council. She currently had only Lady Elise Renfort of Ethea on the council alongside her Valdir women. A stoic and sensible widow, Lady Renfort’s husband had died in the Long War and she’d never remarried. She bobbed her elaborately styled grey head at Kalina as she sat at the large head chair.
Kalina’s cousin Kari sat picking her fingernails with a dagger, a smirk on her clever face, and beside her, her brother Rangvald, who was much more reserved and practical, rolled his eyes at his sister’s antics and lack of decorum. Kalina nodded to Jormungand who sat on the other side of Kari, the bearded and stocky man nodding back. Leif took his spot beside her and squeezed her leg beneath the table in support, as he’d always done. Lord Illeron, the tall and thin Spymaster, entered the chamber, bowed slightly to her and took a seat on her left-hand side. This man had delivered her to Hywell Abbey as a baby, hiding her away from Askor and its king’s many watchful eyes. And he had been the first to stand up for her when she’d claimed the throne, deposing Askor’s Prince, Terric.
Lord Avril entered the council chambers last, behind even Lord Tameron who always had a habit of being late to everything. When he finally took his seat beside Lord Illeron, Kalina was growing impatient. She steepled her fingers before her nose and looked at each council member, waiting for someone to open the discussion. She hadn’t requested the meeting, Lord Averil had. Finally, the man cleared his throat and spoke.
“Your Majesty, I requested this meeting to discuss two things. First is the matter of the succession.” He paused, swallowing as Kalina narrowed her eyes at him. She had heard mumblings about this before, but not directly from Lord Averil himself. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, waiting.
“All of us here on the council want what is best for the Stanchon line, and for the good of the kingdom.” Lord Avril’s eyes darted around, looking at the others around him. Lord Tameron nodded beside him and seemed to be the man’s only supporter, but Lord Averil wasn’t daunted and he plowed on. “But some of us are concerned that you are still unmarried. With Ethea fresh out of a war, with Askor to our north, and the possibility of another war, we fear for the safety of the crown. We suggest that you consider finding someone to marry, and to get us an heir as soon as possible.”
In the silence that followed his words, Kalina put her hands flat on the rough oak table before her. She clenched her jaw, trying not to let her frustration come out. Leif gripped her knee beneath the table and she used his touch to help leech away some of the anger that had boiled up at Lord Averil’s suggestion.
“Lord, Averil. I respect you, and everyone at this table’s, opinion. I even welcome hearing anything anyone has to say. But in this respect, I must politely decline. I have barely taken the throne, and I am still trying to stabilize a country fresh out from under the foot of a tyrant. Marrying now would create unneeded upheaval and would be but a mere distraction from our true goal: peace and prosperity.”
“But, your Majesty, a wedding could be just what the country needs. It will prove that you are thinking about stability, and would set many minds at ease among the nobility that you are thinking of this country’s future. Especially if that marriage is politically advantageous,” Lord Tameron chimed in, backing up his friend Lord Averil. They made eye contact with one another and Lord Averil nodded. Kalina let out a breath.
“My Lords and Ladies, let’s table the discussion of marriage for now. There is the upcoming Festival of Flowers celebrations, as well as Prince Terric’s trial, to focus on. Marriage will come in due time.” Kalina sat back in her chair, effectively ending that line of questioning.
Lord Averil cleared his throat again.
“Your Majesty, that brings up the second matter, Prince Terric’s trial. It is my opinion that it be held publicly. He deserves to hear from his former subjects, hear their accusations, and stand trial for those crimes.” Lord Tameron once again nodded vigorously beside him. Kalina had to struggle not to roll her eyes.
“Public? Doesn’t that put Prince Terric at risk? Doesn’t it put us all at risk?” Leif said.
Kalina narrowed her eyes at Lord Averil. She didn’t entirely trust his motivations for making the trial public. She searched the faces of the other council members, who had remained suspiciously quiet thus far.
“I agree. What say you Lady Renfort?” she asked. The older woman shifted slightly in her seat before speaking.
“I don’t disagree. I believe the man should answer publicly for his crimes against this country, but I am concerned about the guards’ ability to maintain order and decorum among the masses.”
“We will enlist the army’s help,” Lord Averil interjected, turning to Leif, an eager smile on his plump face.
Leif’s face remained void of emotion. He was particularly good at keeping his emotions close to his chest. Kalina had never mastered that, she wore her emotions all over her face. She often wished she could be as stoic as him.
“I can, of course, bring in an extra squadron of my men but I don’t think this is a good plan. Too many variables we cannot control, too many things that could go wrong. My Queen, I think this should be a private affair, with only nobility present.”
Kalina agreed with him, but she could see from other’s faces, they were in the minority. Kari had finally put down her belt knife and leaned forward.
“I agree with you, Leif, but I also agree with him.” She squinted at Lord Averil. “That piece of scum deserves whatever is coming to him, and the ones he hurt most were her people. While he and the nobility sat up here in the lap of luxury, your people wallowed in poverty, giving up everything for a war he created out of fear.”
Rangvald hesitantly nodded beside his sister. Kalina sat back in her chair. They weren’t wrong. Her people had suffered more than she could fathom.
“We’ll bring in a few squads and focus on controlling everything we can,” Rangvald said, putting a hand on Leif’s shoulder, placating.
Jormungand was sitting back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest, scowling through his thick silver beard. Kalina nodded to him, encouraging him to speak his piece.
“It should be public. And the Valdir should be present. He butchered our people, slaughtered their relatives and friends. Dragons should also be present. He burned them alive. Besides, their presence should help keep people in line.”
The only person who had been silent was Lord Illeron. Kalina rubbed the bridge of her nose, she could feel a headache coming on. Finally, she looked up at the older man and raised an eyebrow.
“What say you, Lord Illeron?” she asked. The man shrugged.
“It seems the majority want a public trial. While I would prefer it be private, I believe that your people would see it as a disservice, a way to keep them out. And right now, you need the public’s approval more than anything.”
He was, of course, right. Kalina sighed and stood.
“Fine. It will be a public trial. But let’s finalize the details after the Festival of Flowers. For now, let’s worry about celebrating and throwing a great party.”
Chapter 3
Kalina ran her fingers along the rows of flowers added to the ballroom perimeter, enjoying their softness and the pleasant aroma that wafted from them. Streamers and ribbons hung from the ceiling and chandeliers, and flowers adorned every surface. The staircase that descended into the room had a garland of ivy, sunset roses, and daylilies, as well as maiden’s kiss, and dragon’s breath. Dragon’s breath was her favorite, floating in the air like clouds of smoke, its pattern delicate and lace-like.
It reminded her of Maska and she decided that as soon as she was done with this meeting, she would go visit him for a quick flight. Delisa, Margy, Mistress Aynne, and Calla came through the main doors together, followed by a handful of servants. Kalina met them partway across the room. Delisa fr
owned at her outfit, putting her hands on her ample hips.
“I don’t understand why you insist on wearing those old leathers instead of the dozens of beautiful dresses hanging in your wardrobe.”
“Is that any way to address your Queen?” Mistress Aynne said, giving Delisa a disapproving look. Calla and Margy hid their smiles behind their hands, and Kalina pressed her lips together, trying to hold in her own smart retort and smile.
“Nice to see you, too,” she said to the small entourage before her. She gestured to the partially decorated ballroom around her. “You all have done such a stunning job already, I’m not sure what feedback I have.”
Mistress Aynne pulled out a clipboard and riffled through some papers on it until she came to the one she wanted.
“The decorations have been handled, your Majesty. We just need you to finalize this menu and make a decision on entertainment. Then we can go over the guest list one final time.”
Kalina had to work hard not to roll her eyes. Party planning was the last thing on her mind. She was looking forward to celebrating the holiday but she had no desire to be a part of the planning. For this, she had leaned heavily on Calla and Delisa.
“Fine, what is on the menu?” She held out her hand and Mistress Aynne placed a list in it. Margy stepped up beside her and together they pored over it. A half an hour later, Kalina had approved food choices and realized as her stomach growled that after so much discussion of food, she was starving.
“Now, we have a band that will play all the traditional Ethean songs, but I wondered if there were any Valdiran tunes you would like played? We need to let them know by this evening if they are to learn them by the end of the week.”
Kalina froze at Mistress Aynne’s words. With so many battles since her arrival with the Valdir, there hadn’t been much time to become familiar with the music. Suddenly, she felt like a horrible fraud. She was no Valdiran queen. She was just an orphan nobody from the deeps of the Ethean forests. Her cheeks heated as she cast around for a suitable answer.
“I may not be the best person to answer that. Eira, Kari, or even Rangvald or Leif would be better choices. They grew up with the Valdir and know the songs and their names.”
Her heart sank at her own words. Suddenly, she very much wished she’d paid more attention to that part of her people’s culture. But in the scheme of things, it just hadn’t seemed important, not compared to fighting and surviving.
“Eira is not in the castle at the moment,” Mistress Aynne began but Delisa interrupted.
“I’ll sit down with Kari tonight and discuss music. Don’t worry about that part.”
Kalina was immensely grateful for Delisa stepping in. Mistress Aynne sniffed and looked down at her papers.
“Fine. I need it by tomorrow morning.” She turned back towards the center of the ballroom. “Now, there is the matter of the theme. Are you sure you want to stick with a masked ball, your Majesty?”
“Yes. I have never been to one, and frankly, from what the other ladies of the court say, it sounds like so much fun.”
“Excellent. Then I will leave you in Calla and Delisa’s capable hands. Margy?” Mistress Aynne turned and began walking back towards the door. She had always been all business, which was why Kalina had appointed her castle steward. Margy shrugged and gave Kalina a “what can you do?” look before following after the Mistress.
“Now, what are you going to wear?” Calla said, taking Kalina’s arm.
Together, the three women returned to Kalina’s rooms to inspect the contents of her closet and discuss party dresses and costumes. For a few brief moments, Kalina felt like a young girl again. She had never been one for fashion and parties, but for the first time in a while, she looked forward to the occasion.
Kari eventually joined them, and she sat at the table in the corner of Kalina’s rooms and watched Delisa like a hawk, a small smile on her face. Delisa flounced around Kalina’s room, pulling out dresses and holding them up, discussing the merits of each. Kalina smiled at her friend’s antics, indulging them whenever Delisa turned to her to ask a question. Calla sat on the bed and made notes in a small notebook, sketching designs. There were only a few days left until the Festival of Flowers but Calla could sew fast and Delisa had offered to help.
“What color do you want to wear, Kalina?” Delisa said, holding up a deep purple dress in velvet. Kalina winced and shook her head, laughing.
“Definitely not velvet, but purple would be fine.”
Kari smirked and pulled out her belt knife to carve designs into the table. Kalina reached over and put her hand over her cousin’s, raising her eyebrows. Kari let out a long-suffering sigh and sat back, using her knife to clean beneath her fingernails once again. It took everything in Kalina not to laugh. Kari must have the cleanest fingernails by now.
Delisa cocked her head to the side and looked at the dress she was still holding.
“Calla, what do you think? Should we give her a theme?”
Calla looked up from her notebook, her eyes were a little wider.
“Hmmm? What was that Delisa?”
“I said, should we do a theme? We need four dresses and perhaps we could make a play off a theme?”
“Spring. I’ve been sketching a few dresses based on that theme.” Calla stood up from the bed and came to the table. Delisa put down the velvet dress she’d been eyeing and joined the three of them.
Calla laid out her notebook and spun it around so they could all see it. On the two pages, they could see were beautiful sketches of dresses, each with a springtime theme.
“See, this dress I’ve sketched for Kalina. It is based on a spring forest, all in hues of greens with a few delicate gold, silver, and white flowers embroidered on the hem of the skirt and the sleeves and bodice. The mask is a delicate filigree of green wire, like the sunlight filtering through the canopy above.”
Kalina stared in awe at the dress Calla had sketched. The silhouette was very simple with a tight bodice to her natural waist and then a soft flow outwards with a long trailing train that would look like a bed of moss flowing behind her. She smiled and let out a soft sigh. She missed the woods, and Calla had captured its likeness perfectly.
“This dress I sketched for Kari. It represents the bonfires we light in our temple squares and on the hillsides. It represents life and the joy of dancing. All in shades of burnt oranges and reds. The mask is a metallic golden orange to reflect light.”
Calla looked around sheepishly and they each clamored for her to turn the page and show Delisa’s and her own gowns. Her elegant fingers slowly flipped the paper revealing two more gowns.
“This one is floral, representing the flowers we decorate everywhere, the colorful streamers, and the blast of life that spring brings. It will be in a profusion of colors and have a wide skirt.” She pointed to the small bodice and flared skirt covered in flowers. “This is for Delisa.”
“This final one will be in shades of blue, to represent a softly flowing stream, bringing life-giving water to the world. This one I will wear.” The dress was soft, delicate, and flowing with a train behind it like Kalina’s. It was perfect.
Kalina looked at Calla in wonder. Somehow the woman had managed to not only represent Spring but had also captured each of them perfectly in dress form.
“Calla, these are the most beautiful dresses I’ve ever seen. It would be an honor to wear mine at the ball.” Kalina gave her friend a small seated bow. Calla blushed and looked down at the drawings before tucking them away.
“I’ll have them ready by the afternoon of the ball if Delisa will consent to help me.”
Delisa nodded eagerly.
“Let’s get started.”
Chapter 4
The night before the Festival of Flowers, Kalina couldn’t sleep. She wasn’t sure if it was the anticipation of the party the following day, or anxiety about the upcoming public trial of Terric, but she found herself wandering the halls of the castle, avoiding her guards. She had slipped
out through the hidden servants’ entrance to her chambers and down a pitch-black staircase to a lower level.
Kari had insisted on her front entrance being guarded but Kalina never mentioned the back one, for good reason. She wanted a way out. She had taken care of herself before when King Terric had been hunting her, and now she was at least better prepared, better trained. So she often wandered the halls at night, as she used to wander the corridors of the mountain in the Wastes, pondering the day’s events, and thinking of the future.
That night, though, her ponderous footsteps brought her to the entrance of the dungeon. She wondered about Prince Terric below, wallowing alone in one of those cold, dark, and damp cells. She remembered her own time spent in those cells all too vividly. She wrapped her shawl a little tighter around her shoulders before she walked down the cold corridor towards the dungeon’s depths.
She wasn’t sure what drove her to put one foot in front of the other down the cold stone passage. It could have been morbid curiosity about how the former king was faring in the lonely dark, or that she needed confirmation that she was doing the right thing. Either way, she suddenly found herself standing before two Ethean guards, staring at her in her nightdress, her shawl wrapped firmly around herself, her silver hair undone from its usual braids and flowing down her back to the top of her hips. She had to stifle a smile at their bewildered faces. She couldn’t imagine what they must think of her and what stories they would tell their fellow soldiers tomorrow about her strange appearance in the dungeons.
Cells lined the torch-lit the walls, while a leather-studded iron chair stood in the center of the cavern. Her stomach clenched at the sight of the chair, remembering when she’d been strapped to it, Terric standing above her, knife in hand. She remembered Rangvald, hanging limply, beaten down and tortured. That was her reason, that was her conviction that what she was doing was right. Everything Terric had done had hurt her people, and she was done just letting it happen, unanswered for. After the celebrations from the Festival of Flowers died down, she would have his public trial, and she would relish every moment of this man getting what he deserved.