Accustomed

by Kyra Gregory

  “Forgive me,” he whispered, not taking his eyes off the sleeping girl, able to see her small, porcelain features in the candlelight.

  Sybelle raised an eyebrow, “For?” she asked, licking a drop of wine from her lips.

  He cleared his throat, pulling the door closed with care. “I sought out the physician, begged him to give me something to end her crying for the night.”

  Sybelle resisted laughing, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “I suppose that’s one way of tackling the situation,” she said.

  “I hope she will be in somewhat higher spirits tomorrow, even if just enough to reason with her,” he said.

  “And if she’s not?”

  Deros exhaled heavily. “If she’s not,” he started, filled with regret, “she will be resigning herself to her misery. And I’ll have yet another one of my own to accept.”

  Sybelle smiled sympathetically, handing him the chalice of wine which he took with a meek, grateful glance from beneath his lashes. He swayed towards the opposite wall, resting his tired body against it as he sipped on the wine and contemplated. He slid to the ground, exhaling noisily as he drew his knees up to his chest, “I have plenty to apologise for,” he whispered.

  “Think nothing of it,” Sybelle sighed, holding her head up high.

  “The way I’ve treated you lately has been inexcusable. It shouldn’t have happened, not with how strong my feelings are towards you, and, yet, it happened anyway.” He rubbed his temples, cringing visibly, “I’m so weak,” he murmured.

  “I told you to think nothing of it,” she said, her voice stern but warm. “Your actions towards me...were painful, but I’ve endured far worse as of late.”

  “All the more reason not to have behaved that way,” Deros countered, riddled with guilt.

  “To say that I felt nothing for your actions is to say that you hold no worth to me and that is furthest from the truth,” she said, crouching onto the ground across from him. Her voice darkened, as did her gaze, “But it does not mean that I’ll be broken over trifling matters of the heart, of words spoken out of a little hurt and frustration.” She rose to her feet, crossing her arms against her chest as he looked up at her, “Don’t make the same mistake so many others have made; don’t take me for a child.” He sat there, focused on her words as he nodded numbly when she looked to him for understanding. Her lips drew into a small smile at the end and her gaze seemed to brighten, lifting a weight from Deros’s shoulders. She turned away, starting down the hall, “Drink your wine and get to bed,” she said, her voice heavy once again with the weight of her command. “I’ll be waiting,” she added.

  CHAPTER 10

  KNOCKING ON THE door startled Sybelle awake early in the morning. Her brows furrowed together and her narrowed eyes looked around the room, searching for some indication of the time. She stumbled out of bed at the sound of another knock on the door, one more eager this time. She gathered her gown off the ground and made her way towards the door. Her bed was empty, she’d only just noticed. She pulled the door open, holding her dress against her naked body as she glared up at the guard who was to act as a messenger. His gaze flickered elsewhere, “Your Majesty,” he addressed urgently, clearing his throat.

  “Yes?” she asked, slapping her hand against her dress at her side. “What is it?”

  The words that left his lips had her slamming the door shut, slipping into her dress immediately and storming out of the room as she laced up the bodice of her gown. “Where’s Deros?” She asked, not looking over at the guard that she addressed.

  “Already atop the Capital wall,” he replied.

  She made her way there, storming across the capital with a wide circle of guards, making her way up the tower and across the wall with her eyes cast out towards the beach. A pigeon sat perched on the wall at Deros’s side, the message it had brought with it between his fingers as he looked out at the boundary walls.

  “They are days too early for this,” Sybelle murmured, snatching the paper from Deros’s hands.

  “Too early for what?” Deros asked, his brows furrowing together.

  She waved off his question, dropping her eyes to the paper that the bird had brought.

  “It would seem that Azura has grown impatient waiting for the reply that they’ve hoped for,” Deros remarked. “The taunting of the men upon our walls started as entertainment to them but they’ve approached the gates now, periodically using the ram upon it.”

  “They’re trying to frighten us,” she said, scrunching up the piece of parchment. “They’re trying to get us to make a move; surrender to their desires, or, at least, force my men into open battle with them. There’s no doubt they’re bored just sitting there.”

  “Whatever their methods, they’ll work,” Deros sighed. “I’ll prepare an army. We’ll face them the next time they take to our gates.”

  “You shouldn’t,” Sybelle said, adamant. “Having our men, what few we have, out there is exactly what they want. If the country hardly has an army to defend them then what stops them from breaking through the gates anyway and doing as they wish with us?”

  “If we don’t confront them they will break down the gates and make their way inside regardless,” Deros argued.

  “Then let them come,” Sybelle countered. “Let them do the hard work of attempting to break through that gate. They come with one hundred or so men. They will wear themselves out trying to get through, not to mention fall victim to the soldiers upon our walls.”

  “It’s a mistake,” Deros said, following her as she walked away. “If we let them attack our walls they will be in high spirits at their success. They will make their way through and slaughter anyone they may come in contact with.”

  “Then put the army together, stand within our walls and protect the people if Azura were to get in,” she said.

  “Or we can confront them,” Deros said, insistent. “We can draw the battle as close to the walls as possible. We will have the advantage of our men on the ground and the archers above. We will deplete their number so that they won’t think about confronting us again so soon.”

  “I know I need time,” Sybelle said, glancing over her shoulder, “but I would like to avoid bloodshed of my own men for as long as it is possible.”

  “You never told me what your plan is,” Deros said, calling across the square of the capital as he came to a stop, forcing her to do the same, “and I won’t ask,” he added, “but I trust you. Your plan needs time and if you would just let me take the army to Azura then I can buy you the time you need.”

  “The time I need has yet to be determined,” she said, turning around.

  Deros shrugged his shoulders, throwing his hands up by his sides, “Then what does it matter if I confront Azura in an open battle or wait for them to break through the walls on their own? The time it takes them to succeed may not be enough of the time you need and bloodshed will occur anyway.”

  Sybelle advanced on him with a scoff, “Do you not understand?” she asked, her lips curling into an incredulous smile. “It’s your bloodshed that I’m trying to avoid,” she said. “I don’t want you at the front of my army. I don’t want you to get killed, most certainly not for me.”

  Deros captured her face in his hands suddenly, drawing her close enough to feel his hot breath against her lips, “And I don’t want Azura close to you. I don’t want them to make their way into the Capital because if they do...they will have you and I cannot have that.”

  “Don’t think of me,” Sybelle pleaded, grasping his hands tightly in hers. “Think of your daughter. Think of what she will lose if you leave Lionessa’s walls.”

  “I am thinking of my daughter,” he whispered, “and I’m thinking of what I love most in this world and all I know is that I have to do everything in my power not to lose either of them.”

  Sybelle shook her head as a familiar stinging sensation filled her eyes. “Put an army together and go to the gate, in case they get in. But don’t leave Lionessa
’s walls,” she said, her voice breaking. She hung her head, brushing the long strands out of her face, “You’ll have to tell your daughter that you’re leaving,” she added.

  Deros looked at her with heartbreak in his eyes as he slipped his hands to her cheeks, brushing his thumbs back and forth along her cheeks. “It cannot be anymore painful than this,” he whispered.

  Sybelle forced a smile, inhaling deeply as she brought his hands to her lips, kissing his knuckles tenderly. “For you, perhaps,” she whispered. She pulled herself away, squeezing his fingers between hers before returning to her throne room alone, pondering the silence and stillness that her mind and body would have to acclimate itself to alone.

  Guards came and went, reporting on the progress of putting the army together. She only opened her mouth long enough to tell Ewin to stay, not to leave with Deros and the others, otherwise keeping silent as she drew her legs up onto her throne, tilted her head back and thought. She approached her window when she heard the noisy assembly of men in the square down below. Deros’s voice was louder than the rest, dealing instructions to their actions. She stared down at him with breaths held within her chest, captivated by him, almost missing the sound of Ewin approaching her. “Will you not go down there and give a speech? It may empower the men to know that they have such blessing from their Queen,” he said.

  “Does Deros look like he requires my assistance?” she asked, rhetorically, walking away from the window as the men lined up to march through her narrow streets.

  Ewin chuckled softly, “No, I suppose not, but…”

  “My mind is plagued by greater matters, Ewin,” Sybelle said, seating herself at her table, placing her head in her hands. “I don’t care for speeches at a time like this.”

  His brows furrowed together and he took a few, cautious, steps towards her, “Is there anything you require, your Majesty?” he asked.

  She shook her head, scrunching her eyes shut. “No. There is nothing you can do. It’s out of our hands now.”

  Ewin’s brows furrowed together and he glanced around the room. “And in whose hands do you claim it to be?”

  Sybelle lifted her gaze, one that was dark and cold. “Not mine,” is all she replied. “Not for the moment at least.”

  Ewin cleared his throat, bowing his head. “Well, on the subject of speeches, you may need to give one. The people have been discouraged, uneasy. I’m sure that seeing our men on their way to the outer walls won’t fill them with much hope in the avoidance of a war.”

  “They shouldn’t be hoping to avoid a war,” she said, “they should be hoping to win the war.”

  “Being Queen is not only about making the difficult decisions when it comes to politics and war,” Ewin said, placing his hands on her table. “You must cater to the people and see to it that you tend to their concerns with your words and actions. Perhaps seeing our men making their way to battle will fill them with hope if you show them that it’s the only way. Until then, they will merely think the worst.”

  Sybelle threw herself back in her seat, huffing. “Make the preparations. I’ll see to the people this evening, make a small speech, interact with some before coming back.”

  Ewin smiled, so full of pride at successfully having convinced her to do something. He left to make the preparations as she’d asked, once more leaving her in silence, this time to formulate words that would be filled with hope.

  Having become Queen, she thought she’d been faced with far worse than having to give speeches. Nonetheless, it didn’t stop her from gulping down a chalice of the strongest liquor in the palace before making her way out of the Capital, to the stage that had been erected just outside the gates. The people fell silent at the sight of her but she could feel their disapproval and uncertainty even through the haze that she’d brought upon herself. Her hands shook, causing her to clasp them together against her dress as she looked down at the people, waiting for the guards to take their positions and silence the crowd entirely.

  “You’re all scared,” she remarked, keeping her voice tender as she held sympathy for their plights, “but I’m not,” she said, shifting her weight, dropping her gaze at her confession. “Though it may not seem like much has been done to eradicate these dwellers from our shores I assure you that, beneath it all, much has been done to see to it that they will never again cause harm to us, not to our trade, and not to our people.” The gazes in the crowd softened, amidst the nervousness and uncertainty that her over-confidence undoubtedly brought upon them. “Just have faith in my plans, have faith in my ideas and believe that what I’ve done, what I’m doing, is all to protect Lionessa and its assets.”

  “And what of the army that was seen leaving the Capital this morning?” A voice in the sea of people called out, the crowd never shifting to look at the speaker, making it difficult to make out where the voice had come from.

  “Merely a precaution,” Sybelle called out, more loudly than the other voice, ascertaining that she was heard. “The soldiers of Azura have made childish attempts at our gates. While sixty men line the walls at the top, putting in their effort to ascertain that our gate is not breached, I would have men on the ground, were anything ever to happen.”

  “And of the man you’ve chosen to lead those men on the ground?” Another voice asked, more easily identified to that of a woman, holding a child whose face buried deep into the crook of her neck. “What of him?”

  “What of him?” Sybelle countered, cocking her head to one side. “He is a man of great worth to an army. He has left behind his own child in tears,” she said, gesturing to that of the woman, “in order to defend this country, to defend you and your child, so that you may never be separated from them.” Sybelle bit her tongue on one side of her mouth, her gaze flickering to the sky above her as she pulled back every trace of overwhelming emotion, replacing it only with darkness. “I don’t care who a person is,” she said, “I don’t care if they are a saint or a sinner, when a man leaves everything to defend others he has earned my respect.” She removed her gaze from the singular woman and child, looking to the entirety of the crowd, “And I find it absolutely deplorable if he, or any of the others who marched today, has not earned yours.”

  She scoffed, shaking her head. She wanted nothing more than to leave the stage. She wanted to storm away and not have to return to it. But, in order to do that, she knew she had to say more, to ascertain that she needn’t return to give such speeches again anytime soon. “Have faith, people,” she said, begrudgingly. “All will come to pass soon enough when everything falls into place. I just need you to be patient in the meantime.”

  She looked upon the people for a response. She received none; at least, not with words. They looked at her with patient perseverance, like they would do as she asked for just a little while longer. That was all she needed, she told herself as she bowed her head before making her way off the stage, assisted down the steps by Ewin who quickly whisked her away, back into the Capital. “Good enough for you?” She asked, glancing at Ewin.

  Ewin smirked, nodding his head, “Not quite what I had in mind but I suppose it will do.”

  “You’ve gotten too comfortable,” she remarked, making her way to the nearest tower of the Capital’s walls. At the top, she looked out at the dispersing crowd as they gossiped amongst themselves. She couldn’t read lips, but she could read faces, even from that distance. Her words had done something to soothe some, if not most, of the crowd, but she couldn’t deny that a few people still looked displeased with the way matters were handled.

  She skimmed her hand along the top of the wall, walking along while casting her gaze out across the East of the country. “We haven’t heard anything from the others yet, have we?”

  “Not that I’ve been told,” Ewin said, following her and her line of sight. “You shouldn’t be out here,” he remarked. “You can wait inside and we will tell you when we hear anything.”

  She could, she thought, but she didn’t want to. She stared out at the vie
w, watching the stillness of the world so close to the distant wall. She’d paused, leaning against the wall and staring into the distance, squinting as she tried her best to make out anything at all. She exhaled heavily, giving the view her back and looking to Ewin.

  He cocked his head to one side, looking at her with curiosity. “What are you thinking about?”

  She smirked, shaking her head and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Nothing at all,” she lied, her voice softer than she thought possible.

  Ewin looked at her with uncertainty, taking a few cautious steps towards her. He side-stepped her, leaning forward against the wall and looking out at the view. She turned with him, emulating his position against the wall. “You are Queen,” he whispered, causing her to raise an eyebrow at him, “and I understand that. I understand that your position is head and shoulders above the rest of ours. I’m troubled to think that you’re, perhaps, under too much pressure from the rest of the world.”

  “You think I cannot handle my own position?” She asked, raising an eyebrow at him, forcing her lips to resist the tug of a smile.

  He bowed his head in some sort of apology, replying, “I think it’s difficult for you to speak of these pressures. I think you lost your confidant in Gyles when he left and, though you’ve gained another loyal soul at your side, I think you haven’t been able to replace him. Though it’s clear you share some great bond with the Count, you haven’t been able to speak with him of the pressures because, after all, he was your enemy at a time and you cannot allow for the risk that he may take advantage of his position and your weakness.”

  Sybelle smiled, bowing her head to hide her amusement. “You’re certainly not as stupid as you look,” she said.

  Ewin broke into a smile, “Thank you, I think,” he said.