by Lana Axe
“Patience, my son,” Ivor said. “We must be certain everything is prepared before we act. The time will come, and it will be soon.” Under his breath, he added, “I’m not getting any younger.”
“How much of Ra’jhou will we be taking?” Ivor asked, despite knowing the answer.
“I won’t stop until the entire realm is under my control,” Tyrol responded. “Nilan won’t be spared, nor will any of his line. We can’t risk having sympathizers or false claims to the throne. Perhaps I will let you see to this.”
Ivor smirked. “I’d be delighted. Maybe I’ll start with the woman in my chambers.”
Tyrol waved dismissively. “You may do what you wish with her once the war has begun. I care not. For now, though, she must remain safe and in communication with her family. They must believe she is well treated and content in her new home. We can’t have Nilan thinking he needs to mount a rescue.” Tyrol laughed quietly at the thought. He knew the Ra’jhouan army was substandard, and he intended to exploit that weakness.
* * * * *
Aubriana stood on her balcony, staring out over the sea. Her husband had visited her bed in the night, but there had been no sign of romance. Without a word, he had performed his duties while she fought back her tears. Her dreams of having a loving husband had been childish. Reality came crashing down on her as he left her room. Their marriage was doomed, and her future was uncertain. With luck, she would soon become pregnant and give birth to a male heir, which might bring a smile to her husband’s face. Perhaps then he would appreciate her.
“My lady,” Shala said as she approached the princess. “Your ladies in waiting are here.”
“I haven’t chosen any,” Aubriana responded, wrinkling her brow. With a sigh, she realized she would not be given a choice in the matter. A queen of Ra’jhou would choose her own court, but the princess of Na’zora would get what she was given. “Put a smile on your face, Shala,” she said. “Let us have a cheerful first meeting.”
Holding her head high, Aubriana strode inside to her sitting room. Seven young ladies dressed in blue satin curtsied before her. “Welcome,” she said. “I hope to know each of you well, and I hope we may all know friendship.” If her husband would not show her affection, she would instead strive for companionship among these ladies. Perhaps some of them would become true friends. It was her only chance for a happy life in her new surroundings.
Shala handed Aubriana the embroidery she had worked on in the carriage. It featured a bright red rose with deep green leaves. The image gave Aubriana hope, and she smiled as she looked upon it. “I would like my ladies to wear red roses pinned to their bodices,” she declared. She may not have had a say in choosing her ladies, but she would tell them how to dress and what duties to perform.
The ladies looked to one another and smiled. Apparently, the princess’s first command had pleased them. They took their places on cushions around Aubriana’s high-backed chair.
“Tell me stories of this land,” Aubriana said. With a shy smile, she added, “Romantic ones.”
The ladies giggled at first, but one of them finally spoke. “I will tell you the tale of a knight and the maiden who stole his heart.”
Setting her embroidery aside, Aubriana leaned her head on her hand. “I would love to hear it,” she said. Tales of love would have to fill the void her unhappy marriage had created. Though the previous day had brought nothing but disappointment, today brought her hope for the future.
Chapter 6
Four months passed as Efren and Ryshel enjoyed the freedom that came along with their marriage. Ryshel was delighted that her husband had proved to be a kind-hearted man, and they frequently discussed everything from history to politics. Though women in Ra’jhou were not typically expected to be educated beyond pleasing their husbands, Efren had given Ryshel credit for her sharp mind. She had not spent her formative years in frivolity. Learning about government and the lands around her had been a favorite pastime. Those conversations with her husband made her feel appreciated, not only as a woman but as an equal.
Efren had prospered as well these past few months. Despite his father’s insistence that he would never learn to ride a horse, Efren had done so with his wife at his side. Her affinity for riding had sparked something inside him that he had never before considered. Upon hearing her description of the freedom she felt on a horse, he knew he must try it. Today, he sat atop a chestnut thoroughbred whose handlers had taught him to follow a specific path. Normally, Ryshel would accompany him, but she had awoken with some discomfort and insisted he go on ahead.
The songs of various birds filled his ears, interrupted only by the footfalls of his horse. The air smelled of freedom as he moved beneath the canopy of trees. Efren smiled to himself, glad that Ryshel had suggested he learn to ride. She was convinced he could do anything a sighted person could do, and he appreciated having her support.
As he neared the house, he heard his wife’s voice in the distance. Though he could not make out the words, he could tell she was excited. With a slight nudge, he asked the horse to walk faster.
“Welcome home,” Ryshel said as he approached.
Climbing down from the horse, he replied, “Are you feeling better?”
With a laugh, she said, “I’m wonderful, simply wonderful. I’m with child.” She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Efren.
Squeezing her tightly, he said, “A child? Already?”
“You are pleased, are you not?” she asked, slightly concerned. Though they were still newlyweds, she hoped the news would please him.
“I’m overjoyed,” he responded, tears filling his eyes. “I love you.” He took her in his arms once again and kissed her lips. “Is there anything you need?”
“My maidservants will see to my needs,” she replied, blushing slightly. “Though, I might invite my mother to stay for a while. It would be a comfort to have her near.”
“Of course,” he replied. “Does this mean you won’t be able to ride?”
“At least not until the baby is here,” she replied. She knew it also meant a temporary reprieve from wearing corsets, and the thought pleased her. Despite the morning sickness, she intended to enjoy every moment of her pregnancy.
Returning inside the house, she decided to compose a letter to Aubriana. There had been only one letter from the princess since her wedding, and it had contained little information. Aubriana had simply stated that she was well and hoping to fit in among Na’zora’s people. She had not mentioned Prince Ivor in any fashion, leading Ryshel to worry for her sister-in-law. Most brides would write at least a few words of their husband, but Aubriana had remained silent on the subject. Perhaps news of Ryshel’s pregnancy would bring her some cheer.
Dearest Aubriana,
I hope this letter finds you well and in good spirits. Your brother and I have exciting news that we wish to share. I am with child, and we are overjoyed. Life in the country has proved to suit both of us well. There is never a dull day, and the weather has, for the most part, been beautiful. I hope the Na’zoran climate is agreeing with you, and I hope you and Prince Ivor are getting along well together. I would dearly love to see the ocean and hope to visit you someday. You are always welcome here, my sister, should you ever wish to return and stay awhile.
Much love,
Ryshel
Ryshel tapped the feathered end of her quill against the writing desk as she stared out the window. Perhaps her letter was too vague. Should she ask outright if the prince was cruel to Aubriana? Would it be appropriate? The two had met only briefly, but Ryshel felt a strong bond with her sister–in-law. Efren spoke of her often, as the two had been good friends growing up. Though their paths had been quite different, they had visited each other often, engaging in childish daydreams together. From Efren’s descriptions, Ryshel knew Aubriana to have a kind spirit, and she hoped that spirit was not being crushed. After all, the princess had no one but her maid to remind her of her past. Her entire world had changed in a
n instant, and her current situation was something of a mystery.
Leaving the letter on the desk, Ryshel rose and approached the window. She had a clear view of the stables from this room, and she observed as Efren handed the reins of his horse to the handler. His smile was genuine as he turned and headed back to the house. Ryshel herself had overseen the servants as they installed various posts with bits of twine between them. Efren could navigate a large portion of the grounds with ease, unaided by a servant. His lack of freedom within the castle had been a sort of punishment. Here was a man wholly capable of moving about on his own, but he had been locked away at his father’s insistence. Never again, Ryshel thought. He is free now, and the king’s wishes are irrelevant.
Ryshel laid her hands over her belly and closed her eyes as the sun’s rays warmed her face. Returning to her desk, she folded the letter and sealed it with red wax. If Aubriana’s next letter was too vague, Ryshel would write again with less subtlety. Her own marriage was full of joy, and she would do anything in her power to ensure the same happiness for her sister.
Chapter 7
The sun shone brightly in the autumn sky as Efren and Ryshel sat in their garden having tea. The air of the countryside was fresh and clean, filling their lungs with its purity. Ryshel read aloud a tale of adventure in a land of magic, while Efren imagined what it must be like to cast such powerful spells. Often, he would interrupt her reading with a question she could not answer.
“Does mage lightning leave behind a scent? Surely it burns all it touches,” he commented.
With a laugh, Ryshel replied, “I’m afraid I can’t answer that one either.”
“What it must be like to be a sorcerer,” he said. Sitting forward he asked, “Have you ever met one?”
“No,” she replied. “For that matter, I’ve never met an elf.”
“It isn’t only elves who can wield magic,” he replied. “Humans are capable as well.”
“I’ve never met such a person,” she said. With mischief in her voice, she asked, “Or have I?”
Efren laughed. “If you’re referring to me, then I must disappoint you. Had I the opportunity to learn, though, I would gladly take it.”
“Perhaps you should write to the elves of the islands,” she suggested. “They might send a tutor.”
“For myself, they would decline,” he said. “I’ve read of their teachings, and one must start training at a young age in order to unlock the power inside. It is said a human must be born with certain abilities, which I lack.”
“Perhaps for the baby,” Ryshel replied.
Efren laughed. “Perhaps.”
In a more serious tone, she asked, “Is it your lack of vision that precludes you from learning?”
“I could not say,” he replied. “All I’ve read is that there are specific signs that can be detected only by a master sorcerer. There are none of those in Ra’jhou.”
“Let’s send for one after our child is born,” she said. Though she did not truly believe her child was destined to be a sorcerer, she wanted to give her husband the chance to meet one. It would bring him joy, and that was reason enough for her.
“Please continue the story,” Efren said. “Forgive me for interrupting so often.”
Ryshel turned back to her book and began reading once more. As the story progressed, Efren shifted excitedly in his seat, suppressing the urge to cut in at key points. Finally, Ryshel stopped to allow a few moments of discussion.
“I can see you’re bursting to speak,” she said. “Go ahead.”
Before Efren could speak, a servant approached and interrupted them. “My lord, there is a visitor from the court.” The servant bowed before taking his leave, and another young man approached.
Ryshel set aside the book she was reading and observed the young man’s expression. It was plain that the news was not good. His eyes were downturned, his posture defeated. Clearly, something terrible had occurred. Her mind immediately went to thoughts of war with Na’zora. There had been little word from their king since Aubriana’s marriage. Perhaps she had not been a high enough price to avoid an invasion.
Bowing, the servant said, “Your Highness, I come bearing sad news. The king took ill three days ago and died just this past night.”
Startled, Efren bolted forward in his chair where he had been relaxing. “What illness?” he asked. “Is the queen in good health? And Gannon?”
Ryshel took his hand and squeezed it, hoping the answers to his questions would bring better news.
“They are well, Your Highness,” the servant replied. “Prince Gannon is preparing for coronation tomorrow morning. The sickness that took the king is not known. He was racked with fever and convulsions. I regret to say his passing was not a peaceful one.”
Efren’s eyes filled with tears. The king had been a poor excuse for a father where he was concerned. He had lavished attention on Gannon, but he rarely had anything to do with Efren. Since Nilan saw his son as broken, Efren had not been considered worthy of the king’s affection. They came together only during court functions despite having lived in the same castle for more than twenty years. He could not recall his father ever visiting him in his chambers or saying a kind word. Their meetings were always out of necessity and never out of fatherly concern.
“I am so sorry,” Ryshel said, kissing him softly on the cheek. She was aware of their lack of a relationship, but she could see that her husband was upset.
“We will have to return to court for a while,” he declared, allowing his tears to fall. “Gannon will expect us at the coronation.” As a prince, he knew his duty. Sorrow was no excuse to be absent from court functions. His father’s funeral would be swift, and he was determined to attend. Perhaps he could be of some comfort to his mother. Surely she would have reason to mourn the king, even if his son did not.
Ryshel raised a hand to summon her maidservant. “See that our things are prepared for a trip to the castle. We’ll need clothes suitable for a coronation and also garments of black. Tell the groomsman to prepare our carriage.” She spoke softly, hoping not to trouble her husband further. “Should I write to Aubriana?” News of her father’s death might come softer if it came from a trusted friend.
“Gannon will see that she’s informed,” Efren replied. His eyes still glistened, but the tears no longer fell. Any hope of proving himself worthy of the king’s love had died years ago, but his regret still lingered. Taking in a deep breath to compose himself, he vowed to be a better father to his children than King Nilan had been to him.
Ryshel stood, taking her husband’s arm as they walked back inside their home. “Will you be all right?” she asked, concerned.
“Of course,” he replied, nodding. “I did not expect to lose him so suddenly, and it pains me that he is gone. He was my king, after all.” As a subject of the king, he was required to love him. As a son, he felt only regret.
Chapter 8
Within an hour, the couple was prepared to leave for the castle. Efren climbed silently into the carriage, followed closely by Ryshel. Once the luggage was loaded, she signaled the driver to commence their journey. With Efren remaining lost in thought, her only company was the rattling of the carriage and the thunder of the horses’ feet.
Ryshel was startled when Efren finally broke the silence.
“I wonder how my mother is faring,” he said. “Gannon will not have time to comfort her, and her only daughter is too far away.” Though his mother had shown him only slightly more affection than his father, she had doted on her younger son. Gannon, of course, would be busy with matters of state, leaving the queen with only her servants to lean on. Would she seek comfort from Efren at all? He doubted it, but he could no longer bare the silence. He could find no other words to commence conversation.
“I’m sure your mother is well tended to,” Ryshel reassured him, patting his leg with a soft hand. “I worry more for Gannon. With the king’s illness progressing so rapidly, he has had little time to prepare himself.”
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“Gannon is strong,” he replied, “and he has been preparing for this his entire life.”
They reached the castle grounds early the following morning. The serving staff had been outfitted in mourning clothes, and the mood inside the castle was somber. No one would be allowed to laugh or make merry until a full week had passed. Gannon’s coronation would be carried out quickly, and he would have to meet with his council immediately following the ceremony. Efren did not envy his brother the task ahead. He was relieved to be spared the burden of becoming king.
After stepping out of the carriage, Efren took Ryshel’s arm. “We should see to the queen first,” he said.
“Of course,” she replied.
Slowly they ascended a spiral staircase and made their way down the long corridor to the queen’s chambers. To their surprise, the door stood open. Servants were running back and forth carrying various items.
“Not that one, idiot,” the queen’s voice sounded from inside.
Efren sighed and stepped inside the room. Ryshel squeezed his arm slightly, hoping to give him strength.
Nearing the queen, he bowed slightly and said, “Your Majesty. How are you, Mother?”
“Terrible,” she sobbed. Her voice was hoarse from both screaming and crying. Looking Ryshel up and down, she asked, “Are you with child?”
“I am,” she responded with a slight smile.
“Well, there’s no danger of the child being born blind,” the queen informed her. “Your husband was born normal. The doctors lied, but I know it to be true. I believe it was an infection that claimed his sight. It wasn’t my fault.” She walked over to a chest full of dresses and began sorting through them, throwing many of them onto the floor. “Not these!”
A servant rushed to her side to collect the fallen gowns. The queen slumped down onto the floor and buried her head in her hands. Instinctively, Ryshel went to her side to comfort her. Composing herself, the queen patted her daughter-in-law’s arm and nodded.