But good news was brought to her on the same day: Vieve would join the war. Troops were already marching toward Burchess and would likely arrive just days after the troops from Andoradda. That should be all the help she would need to gain control of the military of Burchess. She could then turn her attention to protect her country from an attack by Liksland.
***
Prince Harrington died three days after the king. Illianah could honestly say she felt nothing at his passing, not even relief. It was as if he left without even so much as making an imprint on her soul, although she knew that was not the case with her kingdom. Burchess would feel the effects of Prince Harrington’s intrusion into their lives for an entire generation, possibly longer.
While she had allowed her father to be buried in the royal catacombs of St. Moraine’s Cathedral, she would not grant Prince Harrington such a privilege. “Send his body to Liksland,” she ordered.
Sir Tannin questioned her thinking. “It will stink, My Queen. That is too far to send a body.”
“It is better that they are stuck with the smell than us. I will not have his body contaminate Burchessian soil one moment longer.”
Again, Sir Tannin challenged her. “I do not think this gesture will go over well. Liksland has already sent five ships full of soldiers across the channel. Do you wish to anger them more?”
“No, I only wish to send him back where he belongs.”
She looked across her council table; it was evident that none of her advisors liked this idea. But to her right, Donovan had his thumb to his mouth, looking like he was ready to chew his nail; behind his hand, she could see a mischievous smile. “What do you think Prince Henrick? Should we send the body back to Liksland?”
He put his hand on the table, sat taller, and looked directly at Sir Tannin. “It would be rude, disrespectful, and brazen to send the body to Liksland; but it would be bold. It would show that we do not fear them. A move so bold would make them question our military forces. They will expect us to be stronger than we really are and may disengage their attack.”
“A bluff,” Sir Tannin said.
Illianah had not thought of it in that manner, but yes, it would make it look as if Burchess had no reason to fear Liksland. “I will draft a letter to send with the body,” she said, smiling with satisfaction, glad that her gesture of retribution had a military motive as well. “I shall tell them that any other member of their royal family who dares to infiltrate Burchess will find themselves returning to Liksland in a coffin as well.”
***
Four thousand soldiers arrived from Vieve to defend Queen Illianah’s throne, and without them, it was likely that the battle would have been lost to Prince Harrington’s former army. Harrington’s men fought without discrimination, slaughtering fellow countrymen and family in the name of restoring justice. But when the army of Vieve came from behind, the tide was turned and Harrington’s men either died on the battlefield or surrendered. However, Harrington’s surviving soldiers would not proclaim allegiance to their Queen. It was necessary that they be sent to prison, otherwise they would continue to be a threat to her crown. Illianah was saddened to have to fill her prisons, but it also concerned her that these troops would not help her fight Liksland.
Already, the ships from Liksland had arrived on the shores of Normandisle where it was reported that Prince Alberic of Liksland—Leif’s older brother— was at the castle, negotiating with the king of Normandisle. It was likely they were forming a strategy to attack Burchess at her westernmost border. It was also possible that they would first attack the already weakened and unstable Deltegra to claim her wood as their own. Illianah did not know what to do: whether she should protect her own border first or help Donovan protect his.
It seemed that Donovan contemplated this as well because his voice in the council chambers was no longer heard. Every time Illianah looked at him, his thumb would be at his mouth and he would be staring off into the distance. Finding time to speak to Donovan alone was presently impossible, as every minute of Illianah’s day was filled with war preparations and matters involving the care of the besieged city of St. Moraine.
Since Madame Partlet’s appointment to the council, she had relegated her duty as the royal dressmaker to her daughters, but on this particular evening, Madame Partlet herself came to dress the queen for supper. Illianah had missed their time together and was glad to have a moment where she felt more like her old self rather than this important figure she had become. But after Illianah was dressed in a soft, crimson gown, Madame Partlet said, “Sit, My Lady; let us speak a moment.”
Illianah was instantly troubled, as her old friend appeared to have an ulterior motive. No other member of the queen’s Privy Council had the excuse of dressing the queen in order to gain a private audience.
“Your council is concerned about Deltegra,” Madame Partlet said. “While we certainly know of your allegiance to the Da Vias, you have not made your position clear on what lengths you will go in order to protect their country.”
“I would like to give them every resource available in the event that they are attacked.”
“Yes, that is understandable. But the concern of the Privy Council is that you will take from Burchessian resources to protect Deltegra and ultimately weaken our army. We do not have a strong enough force to be divided in two.”
“No, we do not. However, we do have the troops from Vieve. With them defending the capital, we could spare some troops to Deltegra.”
“My Queen, I can see that your motives are noble, however, Vieve pledged to help us, not Deltegra. We cannot leave the full responsibility of our defenses to Vieve. It would be unfair, and it would make us look ungrateful.”
“Yes, well …”
Illianah did not get to finish her thought, as she was interrupted by Madame Partlet. Obviously, she thought her statement to be so important as to break protocol by not allowing Her Highness to speak. “I fear a decision to send troops to Deltegra would leave your throne unstable and likely split your Privy Council in two. You must first show devotion to your own kingdom. Your love for Prince Henrick and his kingdom must come only after Burchess is upon solid footing.”
So many thoughts raced through Illianah’s mind; but mostly she was wondering if this conversation would be any different if the two countries were formally united. Already, in her heart, she felt that the two countries were one, yet she had made no official statement on the matter. “There should not be any question in my Privy Council: Deltegra has my full support. I would not have appointed Prince Henrick to my council if I did not have an allegiance with his kingdom.”
“That fact is well known, My Lady. But an allegiance is not the same as a union. We can only speculate that a union is on the horizon; however we do not believe it to be in the best interest of Burchess at this time.”
Illianah grew hot with anger. “My Privy Council does not wish for me to marry Prince Henrick because it is not convenient to the revolution?” she asked, hearing the irritation in her voice. She did not want to get upset with Madame Partlet, but the woman had overstepped her bounds. “I was once told whom I could marry and now I will be told when I can marry again?” she asked.
Madame Partlet smiled kindly despite Illianah’s scolding. “My Queen, no one will dictate your choices to you. Your council only means to advise. Our kingdom is divided. Our people look to you for strength. Deltegra is currently weak and would only add a burden to our army. If you accept the hand of Prince Henrick, it may reflect badly on you. It might be a sign of emotional weakness on your part, and it may look to be desperation on the part of Prince Henrick.”
“That is preposterous.”
“It may be unfair, My Queen, but it is something to take into account. It is what the people are saying—it is what they are worrying about. I am only putting their thoughts in your ear, so that you may make a decision: a decision that is for the good of all of Burchess.”
Several thoughts ran through Illianah’s mi
nd. One thought seemed to be faster and broader than the other thoughts and sequentially emerged as the dominant one. She was to be selfless if she wanted to be a successful ruler. That meant putting aside her happiness if it would benefit her kingdom. Illianah swallowed heavily, realizing that her will was not in line with that of her kingdom.
But perhaps her will was not Donovan’s will either. “He has not even offered me his hand,” she said numbly. Should he not have made his intentions known? It had been one full week since her husband had gone the way of the earth.
“It is too soon, My Queen. I’m certain he recognizes your need to grieve.”
Illianah wanted to laugh. She did not grieve for a man who never loved her. Madame Partlet added, “There are certain protocols to keep.” It was as if she had read Illianah’s mind—or possibly her face. “And it is likely that Prince Henrick understands your position with the revolt and does not wish to tax your leadership with the burden of his kingdom.”
Illianah nodded and said, “Yes, I am certain you are right.” She desired to have a few moments alone to think, so Illianah dismissed Madame Partlet.
Donovan was the thoughtful and sensible one. She was rash and impulsive. There was no doubt that he had tossed water on the fire of their passion, cooling it and holding it an arm’s length away. She had been too busy to think of it much, and she had certainly not had the time or energy to try and find a way to rekindle the fire. The caution he had previously shown had saved him from the death sentence of an adulterer. She knew to trust his instincts. If he had not offered her his hand, and had, in fact, grown somewhat distant from her, it was for good reason.
Now is not the time to be with Donovan.
Even though that thought was hard to accept and it made her heart feel as heavy as a blacksmith’s anvil, she knew it was the right decision to make—for the good of her kingdom.
***
At dinner, Illianah felt as if the rest of the great hall was swarming with life, much like a thriving beehive. Her council members spoke eagerly one with another, continuing their plans and strategies. But she did not join their conversations, nor did she listen to them. Donovan did not seem to listen either. He sat at her right, his body leaning away from her slightly. It was apparent that he had much on his mind, and he did not eat much as it likely would have broken his concentration.
It was not a surprise when he entered her private chambers that evening and asked, “Might I have a moment of your time?”
Illianah turned in her chair at her dressing table so she could have a better view of where he stood. His voice had sounded confident, but when she saw the way he shuffled his feet, she sensed his nervousness, which then caused her heart to sink. If he was afraid to speak to her, his news must be formidable.
“I have decided to leave Burchess,” he said.
It was as bad as she had imagined. She took a deep breath and asked, “You wish to help your father?”
“Yes.” King Henrick had taken back his throne only one day after the Burchessian soldiers from Andoradda had surrendered to the Vievian soldiers at the Battle of St. Moraine. He did not have the struggle for support from his people like Illianah did—the entire kingdom of Deltegra was happy to have their king back on his throne. But he did have one struggle in common with her—the task of keeping borders safe from invasion. “I fear Deltegra will be attacked by Normandisle and Liksland before they turn their sights on Burchess.”
“I fear that will be their tactic as well,” she said sadly. It was likely her council knew this to be the case, yet they would not let her offer her support to Deltegra.
“I must go home and … ready the troops.”
She did not want to state the bleak—Donovan did not have enough remaining troops to protect his border from yet another attack, but she needed to know if he was running home to watch the death of more of his troops, or if he would be able to somehow save them. “You cannot have more than a thousand soldiers left. How will you prepare them to meet armies from the western countries?”
“I do not know.” His head hung low as he gave his reply. “I only know I cannot sit here and do nothing.”
Her heart felt like it was climbing out of her chest, attempting to push tears out in the process. She wanted to swallow the emotions, but her broken heart was reflected in her voice when she spoke. “I do not blame you for wanting to be at your father’s side. You are granted this request. How soon … how soon will you leave?”
“At dawn.”
“So soon?” Illianah could not stifle the sob that came from her throat. She tried to hide her tears from Donovan by bringing her hand to her eyes. A queen should not be crying like this. She should not be so weak.
“Illianah,” he said, approaching. He knelt beside her and tried to pull her hand away. “How is it that you cry over this news when you did not shed a single tear over the deaths of your father and Prince Harrington?”
“It is because they did not have my heart, as you do,” she said through her tears.
Donovan grabbed both her hands and brought them to his chest. “I am leaving your presence Illianah, but never your heart.”
His words did not dry her tears, but forced them to fall in greater droves. This was her greatest worry—that Donovan would never have a place beyond the private confines of her heart.
He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. “I do not want you to leave,” she mumbled. “I do not know that I can do this without you.”
Donovan released her from his embrace and gave her shoulders a squeeze. “You do not need me. You are strong, Illianah. Your intuition is precise. Do not let fear take hold of your crown. Be bold. Be brave. Your kingdom will prosper under your rule.”
He would not embrace her again like she longed for him to do, but he did give her the privilege of brushing his lips on her cheek before he left her chambers.
Illianah closed her eyes and thought of the kiss they had shared in the mausoleum. It had made her body come back to life with a renewed strength and fervor she had never thought possible. He had said the memory of that kiss would last him a lifetime, and now she realized it would have to last her lifetime as well. Kissing Donovan was in the past; not in their future.
***
It was another sleepless night for the queen. She wished she could go back to her youthful ignorance when nothing kept her from sleeping at night.
Giving Donovan the task of returning to Deltegra without aid from her kingdom was wrong; she knew it just like she had known he could not die for giving her freedom. Again, she did not know how to right this wrong: she only knew she must, even if it shook her throne so badly that it would topple.
Just as the sky was beginning to shed the blackness of night, she left her chamber and called for a meeting of the Privy Chamber—at once. She did not even allow time to get dressed.
The members of her council quickly gathered—looking sleepy and disheveled. She imagined she looked the same and briefly smiled at the thought that she was likely the first monarch to ever address a council in a nightgown. She glanced around the room and all members of her council were present—except Donovan. She imagined he dismissed himself from this meeting because of his imminent departure to Deltegra.
She did not sit, not wanting to waste a moment in getting to her topic. “Deltegra will be attacked, I am sure of it. They do not have sufficient forces to protect their country. It is our fault they find themselves in this situation. It was our troops who slaughtered their men by the thousands. It was our troops who burned their forests and villages and rendered them unable to function as an independent kingdom. And while it was not our current leadership who inflicted these hardships on Deltegra, it was done in the name of Burchess. We cannot turn our backs on them now, at the hour of their greatest need. To do so would prove us to be heartless and selfish. They are our neighbors. They have longed for many centuries to be our friends. I pledge my support to Deltegra, regardless of what it does to my popularity as queen.�
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Several members of her council stared at her with wide, unblinking eyes. A few of the men look irritated. But one man—Count Leopold—nodded wholeheartedly. “The Queen is right; we cannot abandon Deltegra after we have left them crippled. They will fall to the northeastern countries, and then our enemies would control the forests. They would claim the seas with their newfound naval strength; then they would claim New Burchess.”
“If we do not fight for Deltegra,” she added, “we might be able to protect ourselves from the northeastern countries temporarily, but in the end we will be conquered. If we leave Deltegra be, we will essentially be trampling them under our feet and giving way to the northeastern countries to take control of the Western Corridor. We will then become the ones who are weak and useless.”
The room was so quiet Illianah could practically hear the blinking of her council member’s eyes. At least they were now blinking, as it signified they were no longer astonished by her pledge to help Deltegra.
After a time that felt nearly as long as when she had hung from the hangman’s noose, Sir Tannin spoke. “I agree with the queen. We should not abandon Deltegra. It would certainly mark the end of our kingdom.”
As Illianah looked from face to face, she saw a general consensus. It was agreed upon. “I will go tell Prince Henrick that he has our pledge of support,” she said, nodding to her council.
“He has already left,” one voice said. It was Count Leopold.
“Already? But it is not yet dawn.”
“He was already heading to the stables when you called this conference, My Lady,” Count Leopold said.
The Reign of Trees Page 31