by J. E. Klimov
When she reached the king and queen’s sweetheart table, servants swarmed Isabel. One slid a fried egg onto her plate, another dabbed a spoonful of mashed avocado beside it. Someone plopped a crystal bowl of berries at the head of the table.
Isabel’s stomach growled as she plucked a biscuit garnished with sesame seeds from a nearby servant’s basket of baked goods. Dante smeared butter on his toast before scarfing it down. Her lips twitched into a smile.
“Would Her Majesty like some juice or milk?”
She turned and found Agnes by her side. This time, her bird-nest hair was wrapped up with cloth. “What kind of juice do we have today?”
“Fresh squeezed lemon and Fuad berries, sweetened with honey.”
“Delicious! I’ll have that. Oh, and Agnes, can you have two horses prepared this morning? Dante will be joining me today.”
“Of course,” Agnes answered as she poured the ruby red liquid into Isabel’s chalice.
When she left the tableside, Isabel dug into her egg and chewed thoughtfully. The juice cooled her throat. She observed her subjects: guards, maids, and various apprentices sat, ate, and moved on. The number of bodies rotated seamlessly.
“You know,” Isabel said, leaning toward Dante. “I never thought I would see the likes of this again.”
“What?”
“The sense of normalcy that used to bore me is now the most welcome sight.”
“We’re quite blessed. Although we were left with some scars,” Dante replied in a flat tone.
Isabel turned her head, but couldn’t make out his eyes hidden beneath his dirty blonde bangs. His locks flowed past his shoulders, tied loosely with a ribbon.
“And in need of a haircut,” Isabel teased.
Dante smirked.
When the rain had dimmed to a fine mist and their bellies were full, they headed to the stables. Isabel mounted her horse and glanced at Dante, who was patting his steed’s muzzle.
Gripping the reins, Isabel said, “You ready to go?”
When Dante mounted his horse, it shook its head wildly. “Woah, there,” he said, running his fingers through its mane in a soothing manner. As soon as the horse settled down, he nodded.
They broke into a trot. The click clack of the horses’ hooves echoed down the cobblestone streets that wound through the royal gardens. The roses and hydrangeas had wilted; the petals that had created a sea of purple and red faded into brown. Naked apple trees lined the castle boundaries, their fruit already plucked from the branches. Isabel led the way with Dante immediately behind, escorted by two soldiers.
The final stone archway stretched high above Isabel and the iron gates swung open. Deranian homes branched out from the main road. Most of them were built to completion. Stone and clay made the foundation while the walls were pieced together by fir lumber, topped with thatched roofs.
“Good morning,” Isabel called to a man pushing a cart of limestone.
Wiping his brow, he said, “Good morning, Your Majesty.”
“How are you working without some assistance? Like a horse or a donkey?”
“Those are hard to come by,” the man said.
Snapping her fingers, Isabel summoned her soldiers. “Could you please send word to the shepherd and ask for one of his donkeys? Tell him I will forward along payment when I return to the castle.”
“I will go.” The soldier to the right bowed and galloped away.
“Don’t push yourself.” Isabel turned her attention back to the man.
His eyes shined, and he mustered a plethora of thanks.
“I’m simply trying my best.” Isabel nudged her horse and continued forward.
Dante sped up so he was beside her. “You still have quite a big heart.”
Isabel rubbed the back of her neck. “My parents were kind and fair rulers, and I’m trying to be the same.”
Staring forward, he said, “Just be careful not to be too kind, or else your people take advantage of you.”
She bit her lip. Isabel hadn’t figured what payment she would give the shepherd. Gold was too much. There were some vegetables left from the palace gardens, but would that be an insult to him? Bowing her head, Isabel thought maybe she really wasn’t thinking this through. She may be a queen, but she couldn’t be reckless with her decisions. Turning her head, she looked back at the man struggling with his cart. Something tugged at her heartstrings.
“What would’ve you done?” Isabel asked, shifting her attention to her husband.
Rubbing his chin, Dante said, “Deran is in a state of rebuilding itself. I don’t think there would be much I could do for that man. The shepherd, I assume, is struggling like everyone else.”
“I didn’t think about that.” She let her imagination run wild. Maybe the shepherd needed that donkey. I didn’t even take into consideration how much livestock he had. Remorse crawled up her spine and swirled like a maelstrom in her mind.
“Don’t worry about it. You’ll learn along the way. It took me a while to get a handle on managing people.”
“I guess so.” Isabel’s shoulders slumped.
They approached a clearing. A dozen men hammered away at what looked like the base of a fountain. Isabel smiled sadly. This would eventually turn into a monument to celebrate her parents. That decision didn’t require any thought. The community chipped in and dug a well in the center. The well turned into a memorial. A memorial that would provide fresh water for all.
Isabel hopped onto the ground and cleared her throat. Everyone scrambled onto their knees and placed their hands on their hearts─their new salute. She waved her arms downward and said, “Thank you. You may all rise.” Her breath hitched at the attention. “How’s everything going?”
“Your Majesty, the well has been dug, and we have begun laying down the framework for the memorial,” said the foremost man. His straw-like hair clung to his forehead.
“And I got to help, too!” A boy, no higher than the man’s thigh, hopped up and down.
“Andre!” The man scolded.
“But papa, I wanna show the queen that I’m helping!” He stomped his feet and glared with his chocolate-colored eyes.
Isabel brought her hand to her mouth and giggled. “Andre, is that your father?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Dante stepped forward and said, “Your father should be proud of you. Just be careful, okay?”
Andre nodded vigorously, not taking his eyes off him. “Wow. Nice to meet you, Master Dante. Mommy and Daddy told me you died.”
The wind carried a silence as Isabel squirmed in her own skin. The intensity at which everyone stared at them seemed to magnify.
“It’s King Dante.” His voice shattered the void in her mind. “Master Dante was my former title.”
Andre dropped his head and swayed sheepishly, but Dante’s voice continued to rise.
“Furthermore, I would take care of the words you choose. We live in an age where no one can raise the dead, so I believe your parents were ill informed.”
Sweeping Andre behind him, the father stared at Isabel, chin aquiver.
Isabel shot Dante a sideways glance. He picked at dust clinging to his tunic, face blank as a slate. “Everyone can resume their business. We simply wanted to check on you and attend to any needs or inquiries.”
The score of men, women, and children glanced at one another.
A drop of rain landed on Isabel’s nose. Then another. A rumble rolling in from the west announced that the foul weather was far from over. “I’m off to the castle. I would like everyone to finish up. A storm’s brewing.” When she mounted her horse, he still stood in front of the crowd, motionless. “Dante?”
Jumping in place, he whipped his head around and nodded. “Yes. Back to the castle.”
As they rode home, Isabel peeked back at the monument. The crowd still hadn’t dispersed. They leaned into one another, whispering. When she turned her focus back to the castle, she lost footing in the stirrup. The horse neighed snuffed in irrita
tion. “Sorry, girl.”
Isabel rubbed her eyes. The rain fell liberally, clinging to her lashes. The world around her spun, and all she could do was hold onto her horse more tightly and focus on the beat of its hooves splashing in the mud.
“Would you like my cloak, Queen Isabel?” A soldier’s voice reached her ears.
“I’m fine with just mine, thank you. Besides, it’s refreshing,” she said, removing her hood. She tossed her head back and let the rain cool her skin.
“You’re going to catch cold!” he said, issuing a paternal glance.
His voice faded from her mind and she opened her mouth. The raindrops tasted sweet on her tongue. There was something so liberating about letting nature consume her. She opened her eyes to observe Dante. He tugged his hood tightly.
The shower transformed to a downpour, and the ride seemed to take forever. With each home she passed, faces stared from fogged up windows like apparitions. Color drained from their cheeks. Her people had returned home, but they seemed so uneasy. Is it me? Or are they still spooked over Dante?
By the time Isabel reached the castle gates, she was drenched. Her guard led the horses back to their stables as she wrung her hair dry. Dante flicked his cloak and hung it by the entrance.
“So, this is what you’ve been doing every day?” he asked.
“More or less. The rain cut my visit short. Usually I delegate tasks and call for resources when needed. The Tuuli have been extremely helpful providing resources.”
“The houses do look familiar,” he said.
Isabel excused herself so she could bathe and change. She went through the motions, letting her mind wander. Having time alone was her only means to truly experience peace. As she changed into her evening gown, she peered out the window. The rolling hills stretched for miles, all blurred by the rain. An ache in her chest sent her feelings toward the Deranian shore. And beyond. Some days I wish I had the freedom that Bence has.
The opal embedded in her armlet glowed, tempting her to try to send another message. Isabel shook her head. When she tried to communicate with him through the powers of the wind, the talisman drained every fiber of her energy. She’d collapsed on her bed and did not wake until the following afternoon. Lief had thought she was in a coma.
Once hunger pangs kicked in, Isabel headed down toward the dining hall. Her servants were lighting the candles in the chandeliers. One of them had to be no older than seventeen. He wobbled on the ladder, trying to maintain his balance. Before Isabel could blink, the boy’s foot slipped, sending him tumbling down. She shot her arm in his direction, casting a gale that buffered his fall. The boy landed on his feet, mouth agape.
“Woah,” he stuttered. He fell to his knees upon spotting Isabel. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“It’s no bother,” she said. “Here. Let me help you.” With a snap of her fingers, the ruby in her armlet flashed, and flames danced on top of every candle.
The boy’s lips twitched, his words fumbling out. “B-but, that is my job. I can’t have you performing a servant’s duties.”
“Like I said,” Isabel pressed. “It’s no bother. Your safety is more important. I would focus on balancing on that ladder though!”
Before he could respond, the servant looked beyond her and dropped his head. Isabel turned and spotted Dante, dried and dressed in new clothing. Her father’s crown sat atop his head. Heat erupted in her chest. She’d never seen it on anyone else before. It flattened his thick locks, pressing the bangs over his eyes.
“What are you doing, Isabel? You helping another servant do his job?”
Twisting her fingers behind her back, she said, “The boy lost his balance. I kept him from an unfortunate fall, that’s all.”
Dante shrugged. “Do as you may. But your subjects with become complacent if you do everything for them.”
Isabel pouted, but mulled over his words as Dante dismissed the boy with a flick of his wrist. The shuffling of feet signaled that all the servants were leaving. Dinner had been placed on her table, and fresh lavender replaced yesterday’s flowers in vases at every windowsill. Her footsteps echoed in the empty room. It was only four o’clock─an early dinner, but she was still surprised no one else was eating at the long tables. There usually would be someone snacking in the dining hall.
When she arrived at her seat, Isabel sunk into the velvet cushion and licked her lips. Roasted duck with skin crisped to perfection sat on her plate, surrounded by leafy greens and wine sauce.
“What a treat! Looks like the hunters were successful today. It beats chicken any day!” she exclaimed, turning to Dante.
He dug into his meal with his hands. He tore into the meat and closed his eyes in satisfaction. Isabel reached for her utensils and cut around the bones. She tried to ignore his munching and slurping as she ate. She never recalled Dante eating this way, even when they were younger and cared less about manners.
“More wine,” Dante said.
“Not sure if the chef is nearby to hear you. Let me get him.”
As Isabel stood, Dante grabbed her wrist. “You shall not do such a thing.”
She flicked her arm away, stricken with shock. “I can do whatever I want.”
Dante stood abruptly, nearly knocking his chair over. “More wine, somebody,” he shouted without taking his eyes off Isabel. “Now!”
A plump woman emerged from swinging doors, face covered in sweat. “Sorry, King Dante. I was working on a stew and didn’t hear you.”
Isabel glared at him as the woman poured wine from a glass jug. Drops of red splattered onto the white tablecloth.
“Watch it, fool,” Dante spat.
She bowed up and down incessantly as she backed away. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again─”
“Just go!”
Turning on her heels, she jogged back into the kitchen, sniffling.
“What’s the matter with you?” Isabel slammed her fork and knife on the table. Dante’s behavior chipped at her heart piece by piece, and she wasn’t sure if there was anything left. Frustration mounted on her shoulders, but Isabel tried to force a neutral tone. “You are as grumpy as someone with a Kana claw digging into your side.”
He chugged the wine. Wiping the excess on his sleeve, he leaned forward. Dante’s face was inches from hers. “Nothing’s the matter. I am king and you are queen. You should behave like a woman of status.” Isabel flinched. “You are no longer the forgotten tomboy princess.”
“Enough!” Her entire body shook violently. Her pulse thumped in her ears. “And because I’m the queen, I can act any way I want. Let me remind you─this is a matriarchal kingdom. You take my last name, and while the king may issue orders, you cannot override my decisions. That includes my day to day behavior!”
Isabel huffed and turned away. “That’s enough. I’d like to retire to the library and relax by the fire.”
They finished their meal in silence. When Isabel stood, a lone soldier entered the dining hall. He knelt and held his hands to his heart.
“What’s going on?” Dante asked.
The soldier stood. His leather armor and chainmail were slick with rain. Strands of gray hair clung to his cheeks. The gilded hilt of his sword indicated it was the captain of the guard. “We have a visitor.”
“We do?” Isabel squeaked.
“Yes. A man.”
Butterflies tickled Isabel’s stomach. She wasn’t expecting anyone, and nothing surprised her more than Dante’s arrival. The tribal leaders would’ve announced their visits with advanced notice. It was highly unlikely, but maybe Bence had returned. She smoothed her gown, twirled her hair, and flicked it behind her. “Okay, Dante and I will make our way to our thrones. When we are seated, let him in.”
Lifting the hem of her gown from the floor, she swiftly made her way toward the main foyer, with Dante trailing behind. When he caught up to her, Dante grinned from ear to ear. Isabel raised a brow─his mood changes were unpredictable.
Isabel sauntered up the marble
steps and eased onto her throne. Beside her was the pillar that held her crown, guarded by two men. They stepped aside as she lifted the casing and gently picked it up. She adjusted the teeth of the crown onto her braided hair. When she sat, Dante grasped her hand and squeezed.
The line of armor-clad men struck the ground in unison three times. The massive double doors creaked open, exposing a shadowed figure, escorted by the captain.
Isabel leaned forward and strained her eyes. The lanterns cast a weak light, and she could barely make out his features. Each beat of her heart rattled her bones as her grasp tightened on the armrest. The visitor’s face was masked by a large red hood connected to a cloak streaked with black. She frowned. Bence didn’t like cloaks, even in the rain; it couldn’t be him.
When the man removed his hood, thick locks of ebony hair speckled with gray framed his face and fell to his shoulders.
Isabel slumped. It wasn’t the fiery-red hair she hoped for. Dante remained silent.
“Who are you? State your business.” She corrected her posture, still uncomfortable with speaking so formally.
“My name is Raiden.” Silver studs ran up the bridge of his nose and down the length of his ears. His hooded eyes were charcoal, but seemed to reflect hints of color. Though clearly a human in his early twenties, he didn’t look Deranian. “I have arrived to offer my services.” His husky voice rumbled through the room and sent goose bumps up her skin.
He removed his cloak, revealing a long-sleeved tunic, a cherry-red leather vest, and black leather trousers. After eyeing Dante for a few seconds, he bowed.
Isabel scanned the room. All of the guards remained still, but their eyes darted around in confusion. Even the captain of the guard couldn’t mask his curiosity. Tension bound her body like rope, causing her to take quick, shallow breaths. “Excuse me?” she blurted.