Heir of Illaria: Book One of the Illaria Series

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Heir of Illaria: Book One of the Illaria Series Page 4

by Dyan Chick

I looked away from her. “I’m so sorry. What happened to them?”

  “My mother was taken hostage by the duke before the Battle of the Dead. My father was a member of your father’s advisory council and they tried to control him by holding my mother hostage. My parents would never bow to a man like the duke. My father pretended to be helping him while leaking information to your father. When the duke found out, he killed them both. He killed my brother in the Battle of the Dead. To make an example of my family, he came after me. I was at the market,” she wiped back a tear, “and came home to find my house in flames. My husband and children trapped inside.”

  My brow creased. “How could somebody be so cruel?”

  She wiped away another tear. “I don’t know, but he has to be stopped. If there is anything I can do to prevent somebody else from losing their family, I will do whatever it takes.”

  I pushed away my bowl. The thought of food made my stomach churn. I knew what it was like to lose family, but it had to be so much worse for Lady Genevieve. I didn’t know my parents and my grandmother wasn’t exactly young. How much worse was it for her to lose her children? Innocents who did nothing wrong? I shook my head. “Why hasn’t anybody stopped him already?”

  “People are afraid. They’ve lost hope. That’s what you’ll bring to them when you show them you survived. When you stand up straight and walk with confidence. You’ll give them back that hope, and maybe they’ll start fighting back.”

  Finally, it was time for dinner. Lady Genevieve helped me dress. Apparently, a princess has to wear uncomfortable clothing and four layers of dresses in order to eat an evening meal. When I walked into the dining room, she applauded me.

  “I wasn’t sure you could,” she said. “But you learned how! You looked like a princess walking in here. You can only walk like this from now on. No going back to the slouchy farm girl walk.”

  I smiled despite the insult. It was the first time all day that I felt I had accomplished something.

  Saffron joined us for dinner. Lady Genevieve had me teach her all of the proper uses of the silverware and how to eat each course. I was rewarded with a beaming smile from Lady Genevieve.

  “You’re a fast learner,” Saffron said.

  “Good thing, too,” Lady Genevieve said. “I was worried when you asked me to do this. I didn’t think it was possible. We have a lot to cover the next two days, but she should be able to pass as a royal who was raised by peasants by the time you two leave.”

  After dinner, the history lessons began. Saffron and I went to the sitting room and she began to teach me the history of the kingdom. Since the king didn’t allow for any discussion of the old king, there wasn’t much history being passed down to younger generations.

  “A princess would be well versed in the history of her people,” Saffron said. “You need to know your country’s history and your family’s history.”

  I nodded. I was looking forward to learning more about my family.

  She rested her chin on her hand. “Let’s see. Where should we begin?”

  “My family?” I suggested.

  “Of course.” She smiled. “Now, your father was the seventh king in your family line. The Aqualine kings have a long and happy history. He ruled for 12 years before the Battle of the Dead.”

  “What about my mother?” I asked. I heard snippets of stories and comments about the king, my father’s, life growing up. I never heard anything about the queen.

  “Your mother was from Gallia. A small, peaceful country. The stories say your mother and father married for love instead of political alliance.”

  “So that’s why I was taught Gallic,” I said. Growing up, I’d had lessons daily. My grandmother insisted that learning Gallic was important because we lived so close to the port. Gallia was a boat ride across the sea, making them our nearest neighboring kingdom.

  “Your mother would be proud to know that you learned her language,” Saffron said.

  I tried to picture what my mother might have looked like. Based on the tapestry, I looked a lot like my father.

  “The day you were born,” Saffron continued, “I remember the celebrations and the parties. The king and queen had been married nearly ten years before you were born. People were worried that there would be no heir to the throne. The Grand Duke would inherit the throne if there was no heir and nobody wanted Osbert on the throne. I suppose he must have decided to take it the day you were born.”

  My birth had been the catalyst for the war that cost me my family.

  The next two days were exhausting. I spent them learning how to braid my hair, dress myself, and curtsy. I learned how to hold my hands while speaking and how to greet new people. It was a whirlwind of information that would probably have come naturally to me had I been raised in a palace.

  On the third day, I was nearing my breaking point. “Why am I doing all of this? Wouldn’t it be better for me to be just like the people? Won’t they understand that I was raised as a peasant?”

  Genevieve sighed and plopped into the chair, in a very unladylike fashion. “We have been over this, dear. The people will expect you to look and act at least a little bit like a princess. Besides, there may be reasons that you don’t fully know yet.” She snapped her mouth shut and her eyes widened.

  I lifted an eyebrow. Genevieve had given me some extra information. I knew they were hiding things from me, but they were very good at keeping secrets. Genevieve’s exhaustion was clouding her judgment. I sat down next to her and leaned into her. “Genevieve, you have to tell me. Give me something to help me focus so I don’t mess this up.”

  She looked at me and then looked toward the door. We were alone in the sitting room. Her voice was low. “I’m not supposed to tell you yet.”

  I knew she was close to cracking. Over the last three days, I had learned that Genevieve could not keep things inside. She said exactly what was on her mind at all times. I would guess that keeping this secret was driving her crazy.

  I pleaded with her. “Please. I promise I will pretend that I don’t know.”

  She sighed again.

  I could feel her resolve breaking.

  “Okay,” she agreed. “But only because it isn’t really a secret. It is more that we didn’t want you to worry.” She took a deep breath. “We are working on gaining allies in other countries. We need them badly if we are to succeed. We need them to believe that you really are the princess, and it will be hard to convince nobles and royalty you are a royal if you act like a peasant. They don’t spend time with peasants. They will expect you to have certain qualities, even if they know of your upbringing. We will need you to seal our alliances with them.”

  I thought for a moment then stood up and then turned to face her. “So that’s what you need me for?” I let out a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness! I was worried I would be expected to fight or something. I can shake hands and talk to people.” I smiled. “I think I’m getting pretty good, too.”

  Genevieve stood. “Don’t get too full of yourself, you’re not there yet and I still have a whole afternoon with you.”

  I lifted the fan we had been working with. “Back to work, then?”

  She nodded.

  5

  When we left Lady Genevieve’s home, I hugged her goodbye. She was hard on me during my lessons but I knew it was for a good reason. I hardly recognized myself. I was now wearing a traveling gown fit for a lady of the court and my hair was woven into an intricate braid atop my head. Out of habit, I tried to push my hair behind my ears, even though there wasn’t any hair hanging in my face.

  I didn’t realize how well funded the Ravens were until Saffron led me to the carriage she had secured for our journey. We had a driver who would take us to our next stop in Yorkton, a day’s journey from here.

  Inside the carriage I sat with my back straight, gloved hands clasped in my lap. My face was set in an expression of disinterest. I didn’t want the driver to realize it was my first carriage ride.

  The driv
er loaded my new trunk on top of the carriage with a thud. Any one of the dresses in the trunk was worth more than my grandmother made in a whole year. Saffron directed the driver to secure my luggage with extra care. She was a convincing maid.

  My shoulders and lower back were starting to ache from holding the unnaturally straight posture. Once Saffron was seated across from me, the driver shut the door. The carriage rocked as he climbed to his seat. I let out a long breath and slumped against the cushion behind me. The carriage lurched forward and the tension started to drain from my body.

  Saffron smirked at me.

  “At least I didn’t unlace the corset,” I said.

  “I can see why you didn’t want to be a princess,” she said. “I honestly didn’t know all that was involved. That dress looks painful.”

  “Want to trade?” I asked her.

  She smoothed the grey cotton skirt she was wearing. “No, thank you. I’m happy with my clothes.”

  We sat in silence for a few minutes. I looked out the window and watched the countryside roll by. It was a different way of seeing the world compared to horseback. It was too quiet. I tugged on the trim around my sleeves.

  “Saffron?” I asked.

  “Yes?” She lifted her chin.

  “Is your family in the Ravens?”

  “No, my family is dead.” She looked out the window.

  “I - I’m sorry.” I didn’t know what to say to her and turned my gaze to my hands in my lap. Maybe she did know what I was going through. Was the whole kingdom full of orphans as a result of the king’s brutality?

  She broke the silence. “My father was the Captain of the King’s Guard and died defending your father in the Battle of the Dead.”

  My shoulders dropped. “I’m sorry.”

  She gave a half smile. “It’s okay. I was thirteen when it happened. My father and I were close, but I knew what his job was.” Saffron turned the bracelet on her wrist around in circles.

  “And your mother?” I asked.

  “She died in childbirth when I was young. I don’t remember it. My aunt took me in for a while after my dad died. When the King’s Guard came for her, she hid me under the floorboards.” Her nostrils flared. “I heard her screams as they killed her.”

  I covered my mouth with my hand then lowered it to my neck. “Like Lady Genevieve’s family.” The king didn’t just kill his enemies, he went after their families, too.

  “You were all alone.” I shook my head. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I was alone for a while but the Ravens found me.” The darkness that had been on her face faded. “They offered me a place, a skill, a community, and a cause. I never looked back.”

  I wasn’t that different from Lady Genevieve and Saffron. All of us had lost everything that was important to us because of the king. Then there were the people hanging in the city square. And the people forced to fight for a king they don’t believe in, even after death. All of these families ripped apart. My fingernails bit into my palm and my heart rate quickened. This has to stop.

  “The king needs to die.”

  Saffron smiled at me. “He will. He’s going to pay for everything he’s done.”

  We stopped for lunch at a small tavern a few hours into our journey. The driver stayed with the carriage. The smell of cooked meat and roasted vegetables flooded my nostrils as Saffron and I entered the small building. We found a table in the corner and sat down. A barmaid greeted us and took our order.

  As she walked away, the dark room lit up as somebody opened the door. Two black armor clad King’s Guards walked into the tavern. I stopped breathing.

  Saffron reached her hand under the table and gave my hand a squeeze. She mouthed “stay calm” then took a long drink from her cup.

  One of the guards walked up to the bar and started talking with the barmaid. I watched him out of the corner of my eye. I didn’t want him to know I was staring. All of my movements felt stiff as I forced myself to drink from my cup.

  The barmaid was being friendly to the guard. She didn’t really have a choice. He reached out and touched her hair. She tried to mask her wince.

  A shout from the kitchen gave her an excuse to break away. She handed him two glasses of ale and went through the door to the kitchen. I started breathing again as he walked to a table near the door.

  A moment later, the barmaid come back with two plates of food for our table. She set them down in front of us and took our empty glasses back with her. When she returned to the bar, the guard followed her to pick up where he left off.

  She gestured toward our table, probably telling him she needed to bring our drinks. He glanced over at us.

  My heart was beating so hard it was threatening to leave my chest. I looked back at my food.

  Saffron looked completely calm as she ate the chicken on her plate.

  Boot steps approached our table then stopped.

  I looked up. He was a mountain of a man. His head almost touched the ceiling, and he was as wide as a bull.

  My fingers were numb and I couldn’t breathe.

  He bent down, his face nearly level with mine. “And who might you two lovely ladies be?” His breath was terrible.

  I wrinkled my nose and turned my head away.

  “You look familiar…” His rough finger pulled my chin toward him.

  “Sir, you should not address my lady so informally.” Saffron’s voice was clear and bold.

  He looked at her as if he was noticing her for the first time. Then he stood back up and started laughing. He smiled at us, showing decaying teeth.

  I covered my nose and turned away. No wonder the barmaid was so unnerved by him.

  “This is no lady,” he said. “Morgan, come over here! I think I’ve got something.”

  I shifted in my chair. Even though I didn’t know how to properly use it, I was really missing my old dagger. I looked to Saffron for instruction. She was still sitting as calm as can be. I tried to tell myself that if she wasn’t worried, we were going to be okay. But as the second guard joined our table, I started to shake.

  “Morgan, do you think this girl looks familiar?” He pointed at me.

  Morgan bent down to look at me. His nose nearly touched my face in his inspection.

  Pressing back against my chair, I turned my face away.

  “She does kind of look like that drawing we got a few days ago.” Morgan stood up.

  “That’s what I thought, too,” the first man said. “Wasn’t that reward only paid if we bring her in dead?”

  I swallowed hard. Dead? Sweat started to bead on my forehead. How can I get out of this? Instinctively, I grabbed at my wrist for the dagger that wasn’t there. Panic surged through me and my breathing quickened.

  “I think you’re right.” Morgan drew his sword. “But maybe we should have a little fun with them first. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen such a pretty girl.”

  The first man shook his head. “We don’t have time for distractions. Let’s just kill them.” He pulled out his sword.

  My eyes darted around the room, but Saffron and I were the only ones in sight. Her face was relaxed, calm. The memory of her rapid movements and steel slicing through the guards that attacked my home flashed through my mind. She was my only hope at getting out of this alive.

  He pointed his sword at my throat. “Stand up, you two. Outside. We’ll go through the back. I want to kill you slowly.”

  My whole body trembled as I walked. My legs felt weak and I stumbled as they pushed us through the door. I felt so helpless, so out of control. I wanted to do something but didn’t know what to do. How do you fight back against two armed guards?

  As soon as we were outside, Morgan tossed his sword aside and put his hand around my throat. I tried to cry out but I couldn’t speak. I pushed and kicked and thrashed. Every movement cut off more air to my body. Tears streamed down my face. I tried again to cry out but no sound passed through my throat.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Saffron char
ge at the other man. The glint of sunlight on metal reflected off of her twin daggers. In one fluid movement, she slit his throat. His eyes widened as he grabbed at the gaping wound. A gurgling sound emitting from his mouth. He fell flat on his face, dead.

  Morgan tossed me aside and lunged for his sword. I hit the ground hard, gasping for breath. Saffron dropped her daggers and picked up the dead man’s sword. She bared her teeth at my captor. Without hesitation, he rounded on her, slicing her across her upper arm.

  Blood bloomed across her white blouse. “Saffron!” I cried out. She ignored me and struck back, just missing him as he dodged her blade. He attacked her, causing her to jump and spin away from him. Her agility was the only way she was avoiding his blows. He struck quickly, never really taking the time to pause between strikes. On his next blow, Saffron’s sword was knocked loose, dropping near her assailant’s feet. He struck her again, this time on the leg, tearing her skirt. She backed away, outside of his reach, weaponless.

  He sneered at her. “After I kill you, I’m going to kill your friend, slowly.”

  Heat rose up through my body. Oh no you’re not. My eyes darted to where Saffron had dropped her daggers. I pushed myself to standing and looked at the battle in front of me. I bolted around them and tumbled to the ground, reaching for the daggers. “Saffron!” I held the blades of a daggers, offering the hilts to her.

  Saffron’s breath came in heavy pants. She reached out her hand and swiped the blades from me. In one graceful movement, she threw the first dagger at the man, striking him in his ribs. He groaned in pain and reached down to pull the handle of the dagger from his chest. Saffron crossed the space between them in a split second and sliced the across his throat with the second dagger, delivering the killing blow. With a push of her hand, the man toppled backward, dead.

  She walked over to where I was standing and sat down on the ground next to me, breathing heavy. She rested her head on her knees.

  I was still rubbing my bruised throat. “You’re amazing.” My voice came out in a hoarse whisper.

 

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