by Anya Josephs
After a long minute, I start to feel a little ashamed at the way I’m clinging to her, when I ought to be heading out on my own.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “You thought I was so brave.”
“There’s no shame in weeping. I believe it makes you all the stronger. You are afraid, and yet you are going.”
The two of us hold each other tight for a long moment, saying nothing. And then it becomes clear—the moment for our goodbyes has come at last.
I don’t want that to be the case, but it is. I need to be able to accept that. I need to say the words.
“I love you so much, Sisi. Make sure that King of yours takes care of you, would you?”
She laughs. “I’ll do my best, cousin.”
“And thank you. Thank you for everything. Thank you for being the only person who has ever really believed in me. I don’t know what to say about that, except that I’m grateful, and I love you more than I can say.”
“And I love you, my little bird, my sweet Jena. You have brightened my childhood days. And you were here during the hardest hours of my life, and I never would have had my happiness without what you did for us. It’s here now, for me. I hope that soon enough it will arrive for you too.”
“If it does, Sisi, it will be thanks to you. Thanks to all this.” I pull back from our embrace, knowing that the moment has come to say the last few things. “I wrote letters for everyone. The rest of the family, I mean. I want you to pass them along. Or read them. You don’t have to say exactly what I did. I don’t think I found the right words at all. I’ve always been the one who struggles to speak, and you’re the clever one. If anyone can help them understand why, and what’s happening…well, you understand, yourself. Maybe you’re the one who can make sure they understand it too. Will you try, at the very least?”
“I’ll do more than try, Jena. I will make sure they know why you’re leaving. Because I think I do know, as perhaps no one else can. I know that it’s hard to leave us all behind.”
“It’s harder than I can explain,” I admit, though I’m trying to keep a brave face to impress her. “It’s unbearable. And yet I can’t help but feel like it has to happen. I don’t know if I can go on living the way I have been up to this moment, in this palace, absolutely useless. And I know I can’t go back to being bored and lonely at home. So, I will go on, alone, into the future of my life, even though it terrifies me to try and do that, to try and create something new for myself.”
“You go with all my blessings, my darling. And if you ever can, send a message back. I would like to know if you find your destination safely. Does that sound agreeable?”
“Agreeable?” Oh, Sisi. How strange and formal you sound. How much like a woman you are. How you’ve changed.
How I will bear you with me, in my heart, in my thoughts, every part of you. From my childhood friend who laughed and teased me down the stairs while I grumbled and clung to my bed, to the Queen sparkling at her royal wedding and kneeling solemnly in the sacred caves of Gaia Herself. From the great beauty at the royal Midwinter ball, to this moment right here, as we remain together, the two of us looking into one another’s eyes and trying to memorize the sight of each another, hoping to keep something we can carry through the rest of our lives even as we turn away from each other, knowing we may not see this familiar, beloved face again.
“Come,” she says. “I’ll walk you to the stables.”
We say nothing as we walk through the halls of the palace together, silent and still in the night. We’ve said all we can say to one another. Once in the stables, we embrace one final time. She kisses me softly on the cheek, and I return the gesture.
“I love you, Jena. Ride safe.”
“I love you, too. Rule safe,” I reply. I mean it is as a joke, but she only gives me a small, sad smile as she watches me try to mount up on my mare.
Sisi has indeed found a horse for me to ride and a guardsman to help me find my way out of the City. Unfortunately, I don’t know how to ride a horse. The poor guardsman, who is doubtless less than impressed with having been given the duty of taking a fifteen-year-old girl to the City wall, is nonetheless a fairly patient teacher in trying to get me up onto my horse so I can attempt to ride for a while.
Eventually, I manage to stop falling down. This is probably helped by the fact that they’ve chosen a particularly calm and steady horse for me, a mare who seems to be getting on in years, if I judge by the dusting of white hairs around her nose. She does all she can to stay steady—it’s entirely my own fault that I can’t seem to stay on her back. Yet, after about my third tumble helplessly off of her, I am able to keep a seat at least while the guard has a hand on the reigns to keep me moving forward.
Sisi watches us ride out of the stables. I look back at her for as long as I can, memorizing the sight of her: Queen Sigranna, Second in the Kingdom, the most beautiful woman on Gaia’s Earth, wearing a white nightgown and a blue blanket wrapped around herself like a scarf, weeping small, silent tears as she watches me ride away. She looks so much like she did on that night when she shook me awake in the loft at my father’s house, and told me she wanted to go downstairs and hear what the fuss was all about. I raise up a hand to wave at her, but it feels too heavy to say goodbye to all those moments, from our girlhood at my father’s farm, to the long lonely months at the palace, to the coronation.
Just as when I sat to write my letter, there is nothing left to be said. All I can do, though it takes all my strength, is turn my face away from her and ride on.
I love her still. No doubt I always will. But I chose to give that hope up at the moment of her Test beneath the palace, to keep the love silent in my heart. To accept that I would never be more to her than a sister, and sisters grow apart with time.
I love Sisi. And I’m leaving her behind. Those two opposing truths lie heavy in my heart as the guard and I walk toward the stone wall of the City inexorably, at an even and slow pace. With every step, I feel my heart beat faster.
I don’t speak to the guard. I don’t even get his name. He just keeps his hand on the reigns, and I keep trying to balance myself on the horse.
No one bothers us, despite the odd sight we must be. I see many eyes watching us though, from around corners. This is the most I’ve seen of the City itself, strange as that is. How long ago arriving here seems, though it has been not even a full year.
It’s only about a twenty-minute ride to leave it all behind, even at my spectacularly slow pace. The trip through the gate is much less intimidating this time; with the royal seal by my side, no one even tries to stop us or ask us any questions. When we arrive on the other side of the wide gate, the guard reaches up to shake my hand.
“Have a safe trip, wherever you’re going, little lady.”
I want to thank him for his kindness. I want to ask his name. I want to say anything at all. I turn behind me, wanting to draw out the moment before my departure just a little longer, wanting one more goodbye.
But he’s gone, and I’m alone, looking out into an Earth I know nothing about.
It’s the middle of the night. The sky is dark, though the moon and stars shine. I gently tap my heel into my horse’s side and begin to ride.
We go slow at first since I’m still getting my grip on the bridle. I’ve no idea what I’m doing on the back of this beast, but I find it comes naturally to me. I start to loosen up on the reins, feeling a little less like I’m about to go flying off at any moment, and the mare seems to understand this as a cue to speed up. For a moment, my heart drops, but I quickly realize that the faster speed isn’t truly frightening me at all. Instead, I find it exhilarating, this racing ride through the chilly night air.
As the horse gains speed, I find something is changing within me. I’ve held a deep sorrow within for so long, and suddenly it seems to be dropping away from my heart. The change comes over my body first, before I know what it is that I’m feeling. First, I’m smiling. Then, I’m laughing. Then—I don’t know if there’s
even a word for it, but this happiness rises from my heart, as free and bright as I am. I gallop through the dark, cold night, my hair streaming behind me as black as the night itself, and my heart singing an old song in a language I do not know. And I am filled with a joy I have never felt before.
The end.
For today, at the least. You look wearied, and my throat is dry. I have talked for too many hours, for one as old as I am. And there is much more yet to tell.
Go home, dear one. Rest, and think on what I have said, and what I am going to say.
And if you believe me—enough to wonder if it is so—come back tomorrow and hear the rest.
Glossary
Adirim: a species of extremely elevated magical ability, who are rarely seen in the Kingdom. Sometimes, archaically, called the “great people” or the “greatest people”
Adirit: a single member of the adirim
Annunciate: a title within the konim
Behemoth: a legendary monster supposed to dwell beneath the sea
By-name: a nickname, usually ending in -i or -e, used by women, originally to avoid sharing their True Names with strangers but now to avoid the association with magic
Go’im: a collective name for the Adirim and the Pahyat—all those other than humans—meaning “the people”
Golden Soldiers: a militia formed by Lord Ricard. The only military force in the Kingdom.
konim: an order of scholars and magicians, and one of the Three Powers of the Kingdom, intended to govern matters of the mind and magic.
milar: a coin of moderate value.
Numbered: any of the thousand people closest in line to the throne, typically those who can trace their direct descent to the First King and his Queen.
Old Tongue: the universal language of the Kingdom until the decline of the Adirim, now mostly unknown. Used by magical peoples and to name things of particular importance.
Pahyat-house: a small altar, traditionally built by rural people in the hope of attracting go’im and the magical fortune they bring.
Pahyat: any of several tribes of people with limited magical ability, who once had their own civilizations throughout the Kingdom but now survive mostly as servants to humans, tending to be shorter in stature than humans and Adirim (their name means “small ones”).
Pavain: a courtly dance, done in circles.
Ruak: literally, spirit. The closest translation into the Common Tongue would be “magic”.
Shekin: the most valuable coin, made of pure gold.
tonne: a unit of measurement, the equivalent of all the weight a strong man can lift.
Tannin: a legendary island-dwelling creature with the face of a woman and the body of a bird.
True Name: a name in the Old Tongue that carries spiritual meaning. For women, universally ending in the letter “a”, and generally kept secret or used only by their intimates.
witch: a generally derisive term used for women who practice magic.
zizit: an immense legendary bird, famously supposed to be able to block out the sun with its wingspan.
zuzam: the lowest denomination of money in common use.
Cast of Characters
Prinnsfarm and Leasane
Jena (Jeni): a girl of fourteen
Prinn: Jena’s father
Willem: Prinn’s brother
Sariana (Sarie): Willem’s wife
Maera (Mae): Prinn’s sister, Jena’s aunt
Merrine (Merri): Willem’s daughter
Jorj: Merri’s husband
Malaria (Mali)m: Jorj and Merri’s daughter
Sigranna (Sisi): Jorj’s sister
Willem, Merik, and Belerd: Willem and Merri’s teenaged sons
Zenel: the town’s inkeeper
Daren: the potter’s apprentice
Kariana: a magic user who lived in the woods outside the village. Murdered by the Golden Soldiers before the story began.
Lilane (Lili): a neighbor
Kariana (Kari): Lilane’s daughter
Taric: Kari’s husband
The Royal Family and the Capital
Balion: the King of All the Earth
Ricard: his elder brother and presumed heir, Second in the Kingdom
Elan: a Pahyati and steward to Ricard
Patine: a lady and distant cousin to Sisi
Ransi: another lady and distant cousin to Sisi
Balertius: the palace’s dancing master
Karili: instructor of etiquette
Mari: the palace’s chief seamstress
Garem: the Kingdom’s High Priest
Jehan: his assistant
Padrig: a guard
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Author’s Note
Some of you may know that publishing this book is a near-lifelong dream of mine. I first conceived of Queen of All while playing a game of pretend as a kid—I might have been eight or nine. I started writing when I was twelve. I will be twenty-seven when the book is published.
That leaves me with about a decade and a half worth’s of thank-yous saved up, so hold tight.
So, for a start, I’d like to thank the team that made this practically possible. To the entire GenZ and Zenith family, for taking a chance on an unknown debut author, for treating my story with so much respect and love, and for making my dream come true, thank you for this chance (and a special shout-out to Lauren for the gorgeous cover). To Beth Phelan and her hard work organizing #dvpit, the incredible Twitter event where I first connected with GenZ, thank you for everything you do for marginalized authors and our stories. To my fellow #21ders for your moral support, commiseration, and brilliance, thank you for creating such a special space for us to share.
Thanks to my teachers, from Duke Young Writer’s Camp to Columbia to UCLA, who have guided me as I grew my craft and refined this story over the years. Thank you to the many people who have read Queen of All over the years and given such helpful feedback and encouragement: Kristen, Cynthia, Kersti, Elizabeth, Fiona, Emma, Katya, and many others I’m sure I’m forgetting. Thank you to Maureen for organizing our Fortnightly Writers’ Group, and to everyone who has been a part of it. Thank you to Molly, who has been my rock during the querying and publishing process. It’s your turn now, sorry.
Thank you to the many writers who have inspired me over the years, for your beautiful work and for welcoming me to the writing community with open arms. Thank you to everyone who shared, boosted, or blurbed my book so that it could find its way into readers’ hands. Thanks especially to my fellow LGBTQ+ authors, for treading the ground where I now walk so that the path is a little easier.
Thank you to my family. To my parents: for always encouraging my love of stories, for answering random medical questions about things like medieval childbirth, and for raising me in a home where the arts were truly valued. And to my brother, for being this book’s first fan and supporting Jena’s story for all these years.
And most of all, thanks to you, dear reader, for making this dream come true. I hope you’ll enjoy your first steps into this world, and stay tuned for the next adventure.
About the Author
Anya Josephs was raised in North Carolina and now lives and works in New York City. When not working or writing, Anya can be found seeing a lot of plays, reading doorstopper fantasy novels, or worshipping their cat, Sycorax. Anya’s writing can be found in Fantasy Magazine, Andromeda Spaceways Magazine, The Green Briar Review, the Necronomicon Anthology, SPARK, SoLaced, Proud2BeMe, The Huffington Post, Anti-Heroin Chic, and Poets Reading the News. Queen of All is Anya’s first novel.
Twitter: @anya_writes
Facebook: @anyaleighjosephs
Anya Josephs, Queen of All