Angst Box Set 1

by David Pedersen

  Alloria sat up straight—the bustier provided a great view for onlookers but at the cost of breathing. Fortunately, Vars didn’t take notice. He stood several feet away, looking downtrodden. His suit of armor was ostentatious—highly-polished silver embossed with solid gold tree branches that curled about wildly. At this moment, the suit barely seemed to fit the large man as though his depressive state ate away at his stature. He looked old, too old to be alive. Vars’s long handsome face was withered with age, the skin hanging helplessly from his chin and neck. A half-wreath of white hair crowned his temples. His peering blue eyes were alert, yet sad around the edges.

  After his attack in the hallway, Alloria had taken steps to show him she was more than a pretty face. She had subjugated the old knight, allowing her to focus on more important issues. It was all coming together. She had taken almost everything from her self-righteous all-too-perfect cousin—Isabelle’s love and respect, the throne... What else was there?

  “I suppose when this is done, I’ll need a champion,” Alloria said in her airy voice.

  Vars did not make eye contact but instead looked down at his left hand, gently rubbing absent fingers with his right. His pinkie and ring finger were gone. Not grotesquely torn asunder, or freshly cut by means of torture; they were simply missing. He looked weakened and confused as he balled his hand into an awkward fist then rubbed the stumps again.

  “Did you hear me?” Alloria snapped.

  “Um, yes...yes, Your Majesty,” he stuttered in shock, forcing his arms to his side and standing at attention.

  “Maybe I should point a few things out to you,” she admonished, directing her pointer finger at him. She stared at her finger mockingly, wiggling it and smiling, before returning her focus to Vars. “You still have that one, don’t you?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” Vars said in disbelief before looking at his fingers once more and shuddering.

  “I answer only to one,” she said, lowering her head and looking at him with a dark scowl. “And that one is not you.” She pulled back her threatening finger and whisked long light brown hair from her tan face. She pursed her pouty lips in self-righteous pompiety. “It’s simple. I’m needed far more than you are,” she stated matter-of-factly. “That’s why I will one day be queen, and you will continue to do as I say.”

  “Of course, Your Majesty,” Vars replied. His voice was scratchy and weak but ice cold, barely restraining the hatred behind his glare.

  “As I was saying,” Alloria said in a singsong voice. “I suppose I will need a champion...”

  “I believe I was, um, designated, for that position,” he said warily.

  “Ha!” she blurted. “No, you will be my Captain Guard...spelled ‘lap dog.’ If you behave.”

  Vars nodded submissively, swallowing hard at the insult.

  “A true champion is one that can be trusted,” she continued. “Our relationship isn’t exactly built on trust.”

  “But—”

  “You still don’t seem to understand our...position,” she said. “We agreed to this situation. Did you think to get out of it so easily?”

  “No.” Vars sighed. “I had merely expected it would be different.”

  “You don’t have to be my lap dog, Vars. Nor do you have to lose anything further,” she said threateningly as she glanced at his hand. “This could still be a rewarding way to live.”

  “To live, Your Majesty?” He balled up his three-fingered hand.

  “I believe Angst would be a good champion,” Alloria said longingly, ignoring the older man’s comment. “And maybe more than that.”

  “You’re kidding,” Vars said. “People would never accept a wielder as champion. Not to mention, isn’t he old for you?”

  “At least he’s younger than you. Anyway, he’s sort of cute for an older man,” she said. “He’s thoughtful, he cares, he has power—especially with that sword.”

  Alloria sounded hungry for something she couldn’t have, and Vars rolled his eyes when she looked away. She was now sitting on the edge of the throne and rubbing her hands together.

  “And?” he asked.

  “It’s the last thing Victoria has. I would’ve taken everything!” Alloria said triumphantly.

  “And you believe it will be that easy?” Vars asked.

  “I don’t believe it will be too terribly hard to sway him,” she said, ineffectively tugging at her bustier and staring at her ample cleavage with a smile. “I know Angst is already interested. We’ve made a connection, of sorts.”

  “This is all fine if he’s not already dead,” Vars said with bushy, raised eyebrows. “The chances of him making it back are very slim.”

  “If it were you, I would agree,” Alloria replied tartly. “But I wouldn’t count Angst out so quickly.”

  A young man burst into the room, followed closely by a soldier. Alloria shot up from the throne she shouldn’t have been sitting in. Vars reached for his sword instinctively, but she held out a hand to calm him. The teenager leaned heavily against the soldier, appearing to have been dragged over a long distance by horse. Longish brown hair matted with dried blood stuck to the side of his thin, pale face. His wild eyes desperately scanned the room as he clung onto the soldier’s arm for support.

  Alloria’s demeanor immediately changed from self-righteousness to feigned worry. She left the throne and quickly walked to the young man, taking his other arm and steering him to a nearby seat. Panic and gratitude filled his face as he took a long look at the beautiful young woman. She shushed several times to calm him as he patted the chair to make sure it was real before sitting down.

  “Apologies, Your...Your Highness,” he stuttered.

  After he settled into to the chair, she stood upright in all her glory. His jaw dropped helplessly at her beauty, his breaths short and quick.

  Alloria smiled appreciatively. She placed a warm hand on his shoulder and looked up at the guard.

  “Paul was with the soldiers sent to protect Unsel from, um, the sinkholes, Your Highness,” the knight stated, doing a poor job of looking her in the eye. “Mr. Paul said he needed Her Majesty, the queen, right away.”

  “Thank you.” She rewarded the peering soldier with a broad smile. “Young knight, how may we help?”

  “I have a message for the queen, Your Majesty,” he said nervously, swallowing hard.

  Alloria nodded in acknowledgement.

  “My...my dad said to deliver it to her,” Paul said, choking up.

  Alloria sat down next to the young man, and his eyes went wide and he licked his lips. She inched closer and put a hand on his knee. “These are trying times, and Queen Isabelle is exhausted,” she said in an airy voice. “But I will rouse her from sleep to give her your message.”

  Paul looked at Alloria, weary from travel and desperate to trust. He glanced over the package of beautiful face with full lips, large breasts held aloft, and warm touch resting on his leg. His labored breathing calmed in her presence.

  “Please, Your Majesty, it is desperately urgent,” he said, choking on the words as his eyes became glossy. “The hundred knights are dead. Killed by the monsters protecting the approaching sinkholes!” He sniffed hard and his throat tightened as the tears began to trickle down his cheeks. “All of them, and my father.” Paul now wept openly at acknowledging the death of his father, completely losing control.

  Alloria continued patting his thigh consolingly. “I’m so sorry,” she said looking at both the young man and the worried guard. “How is it you are the only survivor?”

  The cries slowed as the young man collected himself, his cheeks blotchy from grief and embarrassment.

  “I...well...magics, Your Majesty,” he explained weakly.

  Alloria nodded at him in understanding. “You can wield the magics?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he admitted.

  “And you destroyed the monsters?” Alloria continued.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said with the tiniest bit of pride in his voice. “Only magic
could destroy them.”

  “So you’re a hero!” she declared, gripping his thigh firmly.

  “Hero, Your Majesty?” the young man said in spite of himself. “I...well...I,” he stuttered in disbelief.

  “Say no more,” she proclaimed. “Vars!”

  “Yes, Your Highness,” Vars said, now at attention.

  “I will pass this urgent message on to Queen Isabelle now.” She stood quickly. “You will see our hero to safe quarters.”

  Alloria leaned forward for all to see and kissed him firmly on the cheek. She then looked at the accompanying guard. “Assist Commander Vars and see our young hero to a safe place,” she said, “while I inform Queen Isabelle of the goings on.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” the guard said, standing at attention and offering an arm to the young man.

  “You both do us honor,” she said to the guard and the young man.

  Alloria gave Vars a sideways look and quick smile. Paul gripped the guard’s arm.

  “I will see them to a place safe for us,” Vars said, offering a second arm to the “hero.”

  Alloria watched them leave the room and, in spite of another job done well, she frowned. She couldn’t help but ask herself if this was too much, if she was doing wrong. Even though she had agreed to all of this, she still had conscience, albeit a little one. At least she wouldn’t have to shoulder any blame, nobody would be missed, or hopefully they would be lost in the shuffle. Most importantly, she would get what she wanted, and Victoria would lose everything.

  But, in spite of all, it was messy.

  In spite of all, she thought on Angst, and wondered how she could get away with that too.

  38

  They entered what had to be the longest hallway in all of Ehrde. It practically dripped with pale blue and golden banners that adorned the castle like a circus tent. Light gray veins in the marble floor, wall, stairs, and handrails coordinated handsomely with the decor. Melkier Castle was far more ostentatious than Unsel’s, but in spite of the breathtaking garnish, it felt neither warm nor welcoming.

  Angst was exhausted from the trip, distraught from troubles with Victoria, guilt-ridden over Dallow’s injury, and empty. The emptiness was spreading, and his desire for a foci had grown from mere want to the painful hunger of a starving man. The proximity of Dulgirgraut was the tease of a prize so barely out of reach it seemed to tickle the ends of his fingers. A song whispered in his ear, which was both frustrating and enough encouragement to take another step. Now, more than ever, he needed a friend to lean on.

  Hector had taken lead, followed closely by Tarness. The large man kept one hand around Dallow’s waist in a clumsy attempt to help him along, but it might’ve gone smoother if Tarness had just carried him. Dallow’s shoulders slumped as he cautiously shuffled his feet along the marble floor, keeping to himself in his personal anguish. Angst was reluctant to bother them with his troubles; his exhaustion was nothing compared to Dallow’s sudden blindness. He looked at Victoria hopefully—she always knew what was on his mind, always knew what he needed.

  She giggled.

  He shook his head in disbelief at Victoria’s reaction to their situation but then her smile faded and he realized her eyes were distant and distracted. She frowned and tugged at one of her curly blond locks in frustration.

  “What in Ehrde are you doing?” Angst finally asked. “You certainly aren’t here with me.”

  “I’m... just a minute,” she whispered, waving a hand at him dismissively. Several moments passed and they turned a corner to walk up a long and wide flight of stairs.

  “I was talking to Jaden,” she whispered excitedly.

  “What?” Angst said, much too loudly. The others attempted to ignore him. “What? How?”

  “The earth maiden taught him to speak through stone,” Victoria said. “He’s been practicing, and we’ve been talking.”

  “For how long?” Angst asked as quietly as he could, almost stumbling up a step.

  “A week or so,” Victoria said, staring at the floor.

  Angst blinked in astonishment. How could she have kept this from him? He could have spoken to Heather and let her know he was safe. Victoria seemed to shrink a moment, her head lowering into her shoulders. She looked him in the eyes, and could feel how disappointed and upset he was.

  “I didn’t know if it would—” Victoria began.

  “Heather!” Angst snapped. “How is Heather?”

  “I...I’m sorry Angst. He didn’t say,” Victoria said guiltily.

  “You have a way to communicate with Unsel, possibly with my wife, and you didn’t tell me?” His whisper cracked in anger.

  “It’s not like that,” she said defensively. “I can’t initiate it—”

  “I thought you were here for me, for us!” Angst said in a normal tone, whispering now completely gone. He had needed her, and not only was she focused on someone not with them, she had kept something from him. Again. “How long has this been about him?”

  “You don’t understand!” Victoria snapped. “It’s not about him at all...”

  “Now?” Hector asked in a monotone voice to anyone within earshot. “You have to argue now?”

  “They seem to be like this all the time,” a soldier of the Rehmans Charge interjected.

  “You don’t even know,” Hector said, shaking his head in defeat.

  “Are they married?” the soldier inquired, looking back and forth at the arguing pair.

  “You’d think so,” Hector replied with a sigh.

  “While you two have been messing around, I’ve been in a panic about what’s going on at home!” Angst yelled. “You know this but you have nothing to say? You can’t even ask?”

  “I thought you’d be mad,” Victoria said quietly.

  “You’re right!” Angst snapped. “I am mad!”

  “Then why don’t you do it?” she replied, putting her hands one her waist.

  “Why don’t you show me how?” he asked.

  “I don’t know how!” Victoria said, articulating every word. “I said that already!”

  “Then you tell your boyfriend to contact me—”

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” she spat in a shrill voice. “And he’s busy...”

  Angst breathed flames from his nose and Victoria shot fire from her eyes.

  “You must be getting old, Angst,” Dallow chided, desperate to change the conversation. It was the first time he had spoken, and it instantly quieted both Angst and Victoria.

  “Thank you,” Hector muttered under his breath.

  “Wh...what’s that, Dallow?” He’d been so wrapped up in the argument and his anger with Tori that he’d forgotten all about his friends, and the castle, and the listening ears.

  Angst stumbled again, reaching out and finding Victoria, who helped steady him. They glared at each other, and he jerked his arm away from her. Victoria raised both her hands defensively, as though she would never help him again.

  “Her Majesty, Nicadilia,” Dallow said with a sigh, smiling at the change of subject. “She sounded like someone you would have been, well, more Angst-like with.”

  “She was a little old for him,” Tarness said in his low voice, winking at Victoria.

  “Um, well, it’s not that,” Angst replied, looking at Victoria from the corner of his eye. He ignored her thin raised eyebrow. “She’s a queen, like Isabelle, and I didn’t want to insult anyone.”

  Victoria scoffed loudly, and both escort and Rehman soldier turned their heads to look at her. She rolled her eyes. “She is not like my mother,” Victoria said haughtily. “She is nothing more than a princess with a fancy title.”

  The young man escorting them faced forward quickly, unwilling to acknowledge Victoria’s comment. The Rehmans’ Charge soldier coughed and did the same, wide-eyed and silent.

  “A princess?” Angst asked hopefully. “I thought she was a queen.”

  “What?” Victoria snapped. “Nicadilia is no more a queen than I am. She’s a princess i
n waiting, and that’s all. I assume the title was given to her because she’s so old.”

  “Here we are!” the young man interrupted loudly, hoping not to be caught in a conversation that acknowledged the queen regent’s age. “Your Majesty’s room is here to the right. Mr. Angst, you are directly across from the princess.”

  “She didn’t look that interested in Angst,” Tarness interjected.

  “She sounded interested,” Dallow said with a smirk, reaching out to Angst and patting him on the chest.

  “I agree,” Hector said. “But the prin...queen regent is a tough bird...”

  “Mr. Hector!” the squire said loudly, pointing at a nearby door. “Your room is there. Mr. Tarness yours is across the hall!”

  “It would be good for us, Angst, if you were to get to know her,” Hector suggested.

  “And Mr. Dallow is staying with Mr. Tarness. That will be all!” the squire said with great finality.

  The Rehmans’ Charge soldier bowed curtly to Victoria, nodded at Hector, and accompanied the furious squire back down the hallway. They listened to the squire grumble about disrespect as he turned the corner down the stairway. Angst chuckled.

  “Nicadilia seemed, I don’t know, sort of bitchy,” Tarness said off-handedly. “I typically ignore women like that.”

  “Not up to the challenge, old man?” Hector teased.

  “I’ve dealt with bitchy before,” Angst said, eyeing Victoria.

  Victoria’s eyes went wide, quickly becoming glossy wet. She sniffed loudly with a deep sad breath.

  “How do you deal with bitchy?” Tarness asked.

  “You have to be mean. Women like that don’t appreciate good guys,” Angst said, still staring at Victoria. “I hate it. It’s not how I am, but I’ll be mean and treat her the way she acts.”

  “I can’t imagine you being mean to any woman,” Tarness said with a chuckle.

  “We do what we have to,” Angst said sadly. “This isn’t about you, or me. This is about all of Unsel. Maybe more.”