Queen of Savon

by Tricia Andersen

  “You are right. You need a partner your own size.” Tutor stared for two long seconds before walking out of the room and slamming the door.

  Matthew sat in the chair again, groaning miserably. Tutor's tall, lanky frame was only part of his distraction. What dominated his attention was the sight of Victor and Cassandra deep in conversation in the garden. Every moment or so, Victor would brush a lock of hair from her face or softly caress her cheek.

  Matthew felt his heart burn. How can Victor lure her away from me, especially when he knows what I feel for her? Is he in love with her also, or is she just a prize for him to win?

  Tutor marched back in, a proud smile plastered across his face. “She will be here in a minute.”

  Matthew's stomach turned. Deep in his mind, he could see himself having to learn to waltz with Cook as his partner. Reluctantly, he glanced up as he heard a pair of feet rustle in. He took a deep breath, gazing at Cassandra as she stood in the doorway. She was swaddled in a crème and gold satin ball gown, her hair held back in a ribbon. Her eyes glittered excitedly as she folded her hands in front of her.

  “Let us try this again,” Tutor announced as he motioned her in. Matthew rose to his feet quickly, as she approached him uneasily. A giggle escaped her lips as he took her in his arms. Matthew's feet began to move in rhythm with the violist's music. Cassandra clung to him tightly as she struggled to learn the steps.

  “Matthew, look into her eyes, not at her feet,” Tutor remarked.

  Matthew swallowed as he looked up, his eyes meeting hers. He lost himself in their hazel depths, feeling her gasp as he pulled her closer. He felt her breath grow rapid in her chest as it pressed against his racing heart. He felt her grow weak in his arms. Time stood still as they danced, swaying across the room as one.

  They stopped suddenly as Tutor's voice broke through the music. “Good. Very good. I think that is it. Thank you, Cassandra.”

  She pulled away from Matthew and bowed silently. She lowered her eyes and refused to look at him as she quickly spun and swept from the room.

  * * * *

  Thomas sat wearily on his throne. The war had waged on through the rest of the winter and into the spring, taking its toll on all those involved. Malicar had become short tempered. Exhaustion had etched itself on Edgar’s rotund face. The king sighed miserably. Even his own sweet, shy, happy boy had become angry and hateful.

  The only one who seemed content with the current situation was Victor. The young man seemed at home on the battlefield. I’m not sure if that is a blessing or a curse for Matthew. I pray a blessing.

  He looked around gratefully. Those assigned to serve in the palace, especially the women, had kept his home in perfect running order—from cleaning and cooking to nursing the wounded as they returned.

  He deeply missed the domesticated life of home—the laughter, the conversation, the feeling of family that surrounded him. Most of all he desperately missed his surrogate daughter. I wonder how Cassandra has been with the rest of us gone for so long.

  He looked up as the doors to the throne room swung open. Joseph glided across the room to Thomas. “Bartholomew, the scribe, sends word he will be arriving soon for your meeting.”

  “Good. Thank you, Joseph. And thank you for taking such great care of my palace.”

  “That was Cook, really. A word, Thomas?”

  “Yes?”

  “Matthew will be seventeen in a month. He will be eligible for marriage…”

  Thomas held up his hand to quiet Joseph as the side door opened. A smile quickly bloomed across his lips as Cassandra slipped inside, cradling a goblet of brandy in her hands. She presented it to the king. He had never been so relieved to see her.

  “Cassa, I have butlers for this,” Thomas chided as he took a sip. She shrugged as an embarrassment flushed her cheeks. Thomas took her hand and looked at Joseph. “Is she not beautiful, Joseph? A young woman now.”

  Joseph eyed her coldly. “Yes, Thomas.”

  “I have some spells to attend to, your majesty.” Cassandra bowed meekly before sweeping from the room. Thomas watched her intently as she left.

  Joseph cleared his throat. “Your majesty? About Matthew?”

  “Yes. Marriage,” Thomas answered as he snapped his attention back to his prime minister.

  “I wish to invite princesses to the palace for him to court, and for you to choose as a bride.”

  Thomas thought quietly for a moment. “Inquire. Do not invite. Inquire on both eligible princes and princesses.”

  “Princes?” Joseph asked dumbfounded.

  “Yes. I have a beautiful young woman in my palace that would make a wonderful queen. She has already saved her own people from starvation.”

  “But her vows…” Joseph protested.

  “I am releasing her from them. She needs to marry, and since she is an orphan, I will provide her dowry. But,” Thomas warned, “Only inquire. I may have plans for both her and Matthew already.”

  “You have chosen their spouses?”

  Thomas laughed. “In a matter of speaking, yes.” Why bring others into our house when the perfect mate for each of them is under the same roof?

  Both men looked up as a dark haired monk, dressed in chocolate colored burlap robes, entered the throne room.

  “Ah, Bartholomew. It is good to see you,” Thomas greeted.

  “You also, your majesty,” the scribe greeted as he bowed.

  “Joseph, leave us. We have business to attend to,” Thomas ordered.

  “Of course,” Joseph answered uneasily as he quietly left the room.

  Thomas rose to his feet and offered his seat to the old monk. “Please sit, Bartholomew. Have you spoken to King Fortunado of Gavoy?”

  “Yes, sire. I have. He has his top scholars tracing the bloodlines of Samuel and Catherine of Nokkel as we speak. He is unsure how long it will take, though.”

  Thomas nodded his head slowly as he began to pace. “Very good. I will find a way to delay Joseph if I need to. However, I am sure this war will do the job for me. And if Fortunado’s scholars find nothing?”

  “He is scheming an alternative plan and has his experts in the law already drafting the documents you will need for the ruse.”

  Thomas laughed as he stopped beside the throne and patted the monk’s shoulder excitedly. “Excellent! That is the best news I have heard in a long time. I am feeling good about this, Bartholomew. I think we will be attending my son’s wedding very, very soon. Not even this war can destroy the hope I have for the future of Savon when my son and his lovely bride take the throne.”

  Chapter Five

  Matthew sat on the log watching as Victor paced the edge of the forest. “Where is she?” he grumbled as he grasped his gloves in his hands.

  “She is coming,” Matthew answered. He took a deep breath of the morning air. This warm, glorious week in spring marked their seventeenth birthdays. Today, Cassandra's was the last of the three. Victor and Matthew rose early to release Thomas' favorite hunting dog and then instantly agreed to retrieve it. Once finding the cur, they sent it home with a squire to escape the tight confines of the palace.

  They both searched the horizon for their female friend. Victor jumped as he felt someone brush against his arm.

  “Hello,” Cassandra cooed.

  “Where did you come from?” Victor demanded.

  “I just appeared.” She looked at both men while holding up the bag on her shoulder. “I made sandwiches.”

  Matthew laughed as Victor struggled to contain his anger. “So what should we do?” he asked.

  “Let us swim,” Victor stated.

  “Cassandra cannot,” Matthew objected as he stood. “It would not be fair.”

  “It is alright, Matthew,” Cassandra responded as a wicked glimmer twinkled in her eye. “Let us swim.”

  The three of them walked to the pond nestled in the clearing of the forest. It sparkled clear, deep, and cool in the warm spring morning. Cassandra disappeared behind a cover of
branches as Matthew and Victor disrobed to their undergarments. They waded into the pond before watching anxiously for her.

  She stepped to the water’s edge, smoothing her dressing gown shyly as the morning sunlight revealed the silhouette of her naked figure. Victor stared at her in awe. Even Matthew's look of righteous indignation thinly veiled the desire in his eyes. Then, she dove under the water, completely immersing herself as a circle of prism light bloomed across the surface. Seconds later she reemerged, her body suddenly bare of her dressing gown.

  “Your clothes,” Victor gasped in shock.

  Cassandra smiled slyly as she lifted her legs above the surface. In the place of her two small feet was a pair of emerald fins.

  Matthew slapped the water as he roared in laughter. “You turned yourself into a mermaid!”

  Cassandra nodded in confirmation as she floated, revealing the green scales that covered her from chest to toe. She turned on her stomach and swam away from them, giggling.

  Matthew and Cassandra made every attempt to include Victor in their play. Still, he scowled at them as they chased, captured, and splashed each other. Matthew glanced over to his friend, seeing that look radiating in Victor’s eyes. He knew what it meant. Winning Cassandra away from me is just another challenge for him. Let him try. Good luck, friend. It’s true he’s been bred for battle. Love is not war.

  As the sun slipped into the afternoon, Matthew yawned. “I am hungry. Should we go have lunch?”

  Cassandra nodded as she dipped under the water again then waded out, her dressing gown mysteriously dry. Victor followed close behind as he glanced over his shoulder at Matthew. Matthew returned the jealous glare as he trailed after them.

  They all dressed quickly and wandered out to the meadow, resting under a tree for the meal Cassandra had prepared. She handed each of them sandwiches, pastries, and fresh vegetables to feast upon. From the bottom of the bag, she retrieved a bottle of cider. They ate and drank until they were full.

  Once they were finished, Cassandra laid back in the long, soft, green grass. Matthew shadowed her, gently wrapping an arm around her as she laid her head on his shoulder to watch the clouds.

  Matthew turned to Victor, smirking at the jealous discontent in the blond’s eyes. Victor cleared his throat. “Cassandra, you have not given us our birthday gifts yet.”

  Cassandra turned towards him then sat up. “What would you like?”

  “You know, the boys in the village have all kissed a girl before they were seventeen.”

  “All you want is a kiss?” she asked incredulously.

  “If you do not mind.” Victor grinned past her to Matthew, and Matthew silently seethed in anger.

  Matthew knew the purpose of Victor's request. He wanted to shout “liar” knowing that Victor had not only been kissed but had warmed the beds of several girls in Sebrone. However, his tongue froze in anger and locked shut as Victor drew Cassandra into his arms, parting her lips with his to sample the sweetness he found inside. Cassandra wrapped hers around his neck as he drove his kiss deeper and harder.

  As they parted she softly whispered, “Happy Birthday.”

  “Thank you.” Victor smiled at her.

  Cassandra shook her head to dispel the fog that Victor had placed over her mind. She turned toward Matthew. “Now your turn,” she announced.

  Matthew looked past her to Victor's triumphant smirk. “No. Thank you.”

  “But your gift…” she protested.

  “I do not need it.”

  “But the fun will be ruined.”

  Matthew smiled at her weakly then turned his attention to the grass beneath his feet. Cassandra reached across him, cupping his chin in her fingers and turning his face towards her. His heart thundered in his chest as she pressed her mouth against his. She gently pried his lips apart with hers to bravely find his tongue and gently stroke it tasting him and moaning at the sensation. He grasped her to him feeling her grow weak in his arms as she wound her fingers in his hair. His heart pounded out of control. He could feel hers race in time with his.

  Cassandra pulled away for a moment, gasping for breath and losing herself in Matthew’s smoldering eyes before sinking into his lips again. Matthew took control, searching for her, tasting her, inhaling her in. They lost themselves in the intimacy of the other forgetting Victor, Savon, everything until a squawk above pulled Cassandra away. She searched the sky to find a falcon and a gray eagle soaring above. The eagle crowed furiously. Cassandra sighed angrily.

  “Grandfather,” Cassandra spat. She tenderly touched Matthew's cheek as she pressed her lips to his once more. “Happy Birthday.”

  “Thank you,” he breathed.

  Cassandra slowly rose to her feet with Victor and Matthew following. They turned to find a small delegation of soldiers on horseback emerging from the trees led by King Thomas. He rode across the meadow to them, fury embedded in his face.

  “Where have you been?” he demanded.

  Matthew and Cassandra lowered their heads in shame as he angrily rambled on. Thomas's fury raged deeper as Victor glared at him defiantly.

  “Get back to the palace,” he ordered to Matthew and Victor. “We go to battle tomorrow.”

  The two men trudged across the meadow to a pair of unmanned horses and mounted the steeds. Matthew spun his around away from the others in the group. He watched protectively as his father waited for Cassandra to transform. She gazed at Matthew one last time before a flash of light consumed her, turning her into a small white dove. She sailed into the deep blue sky to her grandfather.

  * * * *

  Cassandra sat on her cushion beneath the window of the north tower, staring outside as she mixed herbs for potions and hummed to herself. The army had been gone for ten days and for those ten days, she mused to herself over the kisses she had received in the meadow.

  Victor had recently become unbelievably sweet to her, but his temper still raged, making her doubt his feelings as sincere. Matthew's shy fascination with her had blossomed into something more, becoming electric and growing more powerful with each passing day. She lost herself in him. She had since she had known him. Now, he seemed to lose himself in her as well.

  She looked up as an excited giggle escaped her throat. She gazed out the window intently as she saw the first of the troops arriving from battle. She scanned the army suspiciously—something looked foreign.

  Dropping the bottle she held, she gasped, suddenly recognizing the difference. It shattered into hundreds of pieces as she raced through the door and down the steps, the image of the black standards waving in the air horrifying her.

  Cassandra barely thought as she threw open the entrance door and stopped on the front step. She wildly eyed the soldiers in the afternoon sunlight as they assembled in the palace courtyard, searching for a familiar face. She flew down the staircase when she saw Victor. As she ran near, he caught her in his arms.

  “Matthew. Matthew,” she sobbed.

  “Matthew is all right,” he coaxed.

  “But…” She pointed to the flags.

  “Your grandfather was injured saving Matthew. Edgar and Thomas are…” Victor's voice trailed off.

  Cassandra looked up as she pulled away from Victor. She raced across the courtyard to Matthew, his cheeks tearstained and his armor splattered in blood. She threw her arms around him, holding him close as he cried—an orphan now, just like her.

  The sun set on the silently mourning palace as Cassandra rinsed the cloth out in the bowl of cool water then gently mopped Malicar's forehead.

  He lay on her bed in her bedchamber in the palace, a room richly furnished in rose-colored tapestries and the finest rugs available. Each piece of furniture was crafted from the finest wood in the cedar forests, from the hand-carved bed to the chairs and dresser placed carefully throughout the space. The chamber was fit for a princess, the princess that Thomas had hoped she would become.

  She smiled gently at her grandfather as he rested weakly on the silk bedspread, his a
dvanced age making the healing from his deep wound difficult. As she lovingly wiped his face, he caught her wrist in his weathered hand and drew her onto the bed. Cassandra looked at him, confused.

  “I am sorry, little one. I tried to reach Thomas, but it was too late. I threw myself on Matthew as Gorgon prepared to strike the moment after he slayed Matthew’s father. I tried Cassandra. I feel like I have failed no one but you.”

  He touched her cheek as she let go of a sob from deep inside her heart. He pulled her to him and held her close as her grief released a flood of tears in memory of the man who had been a father to her. Malicar smoothed her hair back, gently comforting her.

  The following weeks were consumed with the preparations for Thomas’s funeral. Cassandra hardly saw Matthew. He kept himself locked in his father’s chamber. He finally emerged the day of the service, his dark eyes hollow from the tears he had cried. She stood beside him during the ceremony, holding his hand in hers for comfort. She didn’t let go until well after the burial.

  The next morning, Malicar stood in the center of the room, facing Matthew, Cassandra and Victor. Matthew sat on the step ascending to the throne with Cassandra by his side. Victor paced on the platform behind them.

  “As you know, now that the funeral is past, we need to coronate Matthew immediately. At this point, with Edgar's passing, Victor, you will take your position as Commander of the Army,” Malicar instructed.

  Cassandra gazed at Matthew, gently taking his hand. His face was worn and weak as his world fell in upon him. He had not only become a man, he was now a monarch. She glanced back at Victor. His blue eyes were glaring at Malicar like a hungry tiger finally getting his meat. She sighed then turned back to her grandfather.

  “And a final point,” Malicar continued, “I am announcing my resignation. I was brought into another generation. You were all raised together, and you should remain together. Therefore, as of the coronation, Matthew, Cassandra will be your advisor. All right?” Matthew and Cassandra looked at each other, then to him, nodding.