“Senri, it’s fine,” said Alina, placing a hand on her shoulder. “How did you get all the way up here anyways?”
Senri looked down at the hand. Her gaze followed the arm, up to the shoulder, then Alina, who studied her with a strange expression. Her face felt too hot. “Well, you did show me the entrance, I should go. The others said we should talk, but I’ll come back later or…” She stooped to pry the panel off the wall once more, but Alina’s hand on her arm stopped her.
“Don’t.” Alina caught her gaze. She pulled gently. “Please. Stay.”
The touch of her hand caused warmth to pulse along Senri’s arm. Alina’s fingers tugged again and she stood up, but avoided looking directly at Alina. “All right.”
Finally, Alina removed her hand. Senri crossed her arms and looked around the room, anywhere but at the princess. A large four-poster bed lay in the center, but that only caused heat to sear through her once more. She looked down at the carpet again. The carpet seemed safe. “Um,” said Alina. Senri glanced back at her. Her eyes wandered the room as well. “Won’t you have a seat?”
“Oh, yes,” said Senri. “Where?”
“Over here.” Alina walked to the far corner of the room and gestured to a couch and armchair. She piled all the excess pillows on the armchair and sat down on one side of the couch. Senri considered removing the pillows on the armchair, but feared hurting Alina’s feelings. She sat down on the far end of the couch and wedged herself safely into a corner. Alina smiled and crossed her legs. The robe shifted, revealing the creamy, smooth skin of Alina’s shapely calves. Senri gulped and looked at the table.
Definitely getting my head chopped off.
“Can I get you anything?” asked Alina.
How could she sound so innocent? “No.” Senri pushed her hands in between her knees. “No, that wouldn’t be appropriate with you being a princess and all—”
“Senri.”
“Yes?” Don’t look at her.
“Please, don’t enforce the concept that I require more respect than you. I already said I reserve that pomp for my Council members.”
“Right.” She forced herself to glance at the princess and smile. “I guess I’m just nervous. This whole time I’ve been convinced someone is going to walk in and execute me.”
Alina laughed and leaned further back into the couch. The robe sunk over Alina’s curves and accentuated the swell of her breasts. Silk left little to the imagination. Senri averted her gaze again. “No one else will enter this room tonight,” Alina said.
“Really?” Think of training. Think of anything else.
Alina shook her head. “I was fairly...stern with my orders. As you can imagine, it’s been a terrible day.”
“It has been,” Senri replied.
“It’s why I asked you to stay,” said Alina. When Senri glanced at her again, she no longer appeared so seductive. She had curled up in the corner of the couch rather than sprawl across it. A crease had formed in her brow as well. “It’s difficult to be alone through this. I know I always have Nin and the guards close at hand, but they make poor company to spend time with.”
Senri nodded. “You enjoy spending time with me?”
Alina smiled. “I do,” she said, resting her chin on her hand. The smile faded. “But I doubt you risked decapitation to lounge in my room with me. Something about ‘the others’ put you up to it?’”
“Oh.” Senri looked down at her folded hands. Now that Alina mentioned it, she felt sorry for her being trapped behind the palace walls. “Yes. Well, Lanan told me I should come talk to you, let you know we aren’t ready to give up. “ She finally met Alina’s gaze without blushing. “And that if you ever need us, the Warriors stand ready to aide you in any way.”
The princess smiled once more and looked out the window. “Lanan says that? And what does Senri say?”
“I will fight for this kingdom with everything I have.” She remembered the yelling in the Council meeting and shook her head. “I don’t care what those Councilors think.” She stood up. “Your Highness, we are not ready to lay down our weapons.”
Alina glanced back and studied her. “Thank you, Senri, I promise to keep fighting.” She stood from the couch and smoothed out her robe. “You should go now, before someone discovers us.”
Chapter Twelve
IT HAD HURT TO send Senri away so abruptly the night before, but the Warrior’s actions had reminded Alina of something. I am the rightful queen. They see me as a leader. No one befriended their leader. She had desperately hoped the friendly banter would stay, but as soon as the conversation shifted to a serious topic Senri got lost in formality. And what did I expect? A heartfelt confession? She’s terrified to be around me. Alina wandered the aisles of the palace library. Guards remained stationed at all entrances and Nin was away on an errand. In contrast to the previous night, she needed time alone. The tall bookshelves allowed her to easily get lost in the expansive, quiet room. Windows along the south wall provided a gentle, indirect light to read by, and several tables lined the gaps between shelves for scholars to take a seat and study. No one else was in the library at that moment, however. Her guards had dismissed everyone.
The blacksmith had said some enlightening things about the enemy metals. According to Nin’s report, the metal had been formed from a mix of iron and one other ore, cormenite, neither of which readily available in Osota’s farmland. Most iron reserves had run dry in the eastern mountains, but flanked by mineral-rich terrain, the kingdom had to have scouting reports of the geology somewhere.
Alina ran her fingers across the dusty parchments. She settled for trade manifests documenting back to the formation of Osota. Osota had to get minerals from somewhere, or at least document who offered to trade it. She pulled down a box of scrolls, then sheets of paper. She dragged these over to a table and began with the oldest information first. The first handful of scrolls proved useless, outlining the border exchange agreements for the country. Then it progressed to food exchange. She skimmed through papers for hours before she found any hint of trading for ores, and then it only recorded trade for precious metals like silver.
By afternoon, Alina had waded through most of the documents dating up to the century before the Burning Times. She glanced around the library. The guards still remained at their posts and Nin did not hover nearby. Good. She needed more time to work. The documents even started to prove interesting, especially as the war with the dragons drew closer and closer on the timeline.
The trade manifests started showing small amounts of ore being received over the years: a little iron taken from one kingdom, a little copper from another. Even cormenite appeared on the list. Still, the totals at the bottom of the sheets always indicated a dwindling supply. The kingdom had not been able to sustain its needs with its current trade partners, much like present day. Finally, during the first year into the Burning Times, Alina discovered a trade proposal. The paper had been folded away into an envelope between the other manifests. She shook it open and smoothed it out on the desk. Her eyes widened. Dragons? She reread the paragraphs at least three times to make sure. Yes, it was a proposal for trade with the dragons. The idea was not completely outlandish. Alina had never met a dragon, possibly because they had been banished from Osota after the war, but she knew they possessed as much intelligence as any human. It was their infamous tempers she had grown to fear. An average dragon stood around eight feet tall. With the added capability to breath fire and tear flesh with their claws, making one upset usually resulted in the human dying first.
Alina scanned the contents and discovered one Osotan king had intended to trade cattle for large quantities of ore. The document remained unsigned. She folded up the proposal and slipped it back into its envelope. While she returned the other papers to the shelf, she left that one out. After checking the date again, Alina went to the history section and retrieved several texts written on the era, particularly ones detailing the escalation to war.
Her hands shook as
she turned open the first page of an old tome. The useless texts blurred over the causes of war. They described increasing skirmishes with the dragons that spilled over to slaughters, but nothing said in plain terms why the Burning Times had begun at all. Frustrated, Alina shoved the books aside and returned to the trade proposal. She checked the ruler’s name inscribed on it, His Majesty Marcus Regan Osota IV.
The name sounded vague. When she checked for a biography, she returned to the table with only one. It held barely one hundred pages and proved even more frustrating than military texts. The biography focused on his early years and ignored his downfall and death. She wanted to fling the book across the room, but settled for shoving it aside and letting it topple to the floor.
Alina sighed and reread the Burning Times. She flipped to the section containing maps and tactical reconnaissance reports. Several of the Osotan strategic camps had been positioned near iron deposits within the first ring of mountains. The lands were rich with ores, rich enough to supply two independent countries for ages. The dragons had ore, but they lacked fertile grasslands to keep large herds of animals such as cows. King Marcus had proposed a trade agreement. How had it fallen through? While she knew they possessed equal intelligence, she assumed the dragons were hungry, vicious beings only interested in flaying humans alive, but she had been raised on those stories. Obviously, one king had thought differently.
Alina cupped her chin in her hand, thinking. Much animosity existed toward dragons in Osota. Children heard tales of their cruelty and aggression during the Burning Times. The kingdom banned communication with them strictly for protection. No one wanted to mistakenly lure a dragon back to their village. Even representations of dragons had been banned. Any idols, paintings, or sculptures bearing a likeness to a dragon were destroyed. The Scaled Vanguard, dragon hunters, killed rogue dragons spotted flying over Osota. The message could not be clearer: dragons are bad.
“Reading about dragons?”
Alina blinked and looked up from the book. Lord Demek stood on the other side of the table, smiling down at her. She pulled the book closer to herself. “I found my latest lecture on the Burning Times lacking. Since it was the last war Osota engaged in, I felt it would be the most important to study.”
Demek walked to the side of the table and picked up the book she had flung off. “Most wise of you, your Highness.” He set the book down on the table. “And have you learned more?”
Alina kept reading the same line over and over. She did not want to acknowledge Lord Demek’s presence or encourage him to linger. “A bit.”
The chair opposite her scraped against the floor as Demek sat down. She clenched her jaw and kept reading.
“And of King Marcus?” His question met silence. Demek drew in a breath and pulled the biography over. “He was possibly one of the most important kings to our country… most disgraceful, to be sure. But also most important.”
“I wouldn’t know why, nothing is said of him.” She glanced up from her text. Lord Demek studying the envelope holding the trade proposal.
“I think you have an idea,” he said, his gaze flitting back to Alina. She met it instead of turning away. “You’re a very bright woman, after all.”
At this, Alina looked back to her book. She did not like the sincerity in Demek’s tone. “I’d assume he died in battle, since the next king was crowned in the middle of the war.”
“Close. The truth is a little more complicated, however.” He paused, drumming his white-gloved fingers on the table. “Are you familiar with the reasons why seers are forbidden from rule?”
Alina froze. Demek’s voice sounded so causal, so non-threatening. He had to know something. She decided to play along until he truly put her in danger. “They are far too dangerous and unstable to rule a nation wisely. A monarch’s decisions should be guided by judgment, not by a desperate race against or toward certain visions.” She remembered the lecture well from her youth.
Demek leaned forward in his chair. “Yes, but, did you know Marcus was a seer? Our first and only Seer King.”
Alina shook her head. “It is not common knowledge.”
“No, the history books do an excellent job of glazing over it. King Marcus witnessed a vision, or so he declared, of Osota united with the dragons in an invincible alliance. He set out to initiate trade with them, wrote up a generous offer of cattle to supplement their lean diets. The dragons turned away his messengers though, said a true monarch would come to them directly. Do you know what happened when he arrived in the dragon’s country?”
Something terrible, I’m sure. Alina shook her head.
“The dragons called him false, decided that they were too great to ally with lowly humans. They consumed his heart.” Demek touched his hand to his chest. “And flew his body back to the capital as an example. King Marcus died senselessly, so assured by his own visions he put himself in direct danger and sparked the bloodiest war of our time. His actions shaped this nation, your Highness, but they did not shape it for the better.” He paused. Alina knew he was watching her. “I want you to be a person that shapes this kingdom for the better,” he said, his tone softening.
Alina shrugged, still studying the book. “And why is that?”
Demek sighed and leaned back in his chair. “I knew your father, believe it or not. I knew him before you were born.” Alina looked up and met his gaze. Something seemed different about him. “He was a good man. Though I barely had time to see him or your mother once you came into this world. I was sent away. Diplomatic matters, you see.”
“Where were you sent?” Alina asked, though she could already guess.
“West,” he replied. Demek held her gaze for a moment, as if challenging her to ask further, but Alina remained silent. “I only saw you once when you were a child. A few days after you were born, I believe.” He stood from his chair and smiled down at her once more. A change had passed over him again. “I shall leave you to your studies, Highness.” He gave a slight bow. “Good day.”
Alina dared not move until Lord Demek walked out of sight and the echo of his footsteps faded. She exhaled and shut the book. He knew something, or at least guessed close enough to the truth. What did he mean to do by telling her that though? Alina saw only two possibilities: he wanted to scare her into abandoning any pursuit of the throne, or goad her into doing something so rash it got her killed.
She pulled the text forward that detailed the history before the war and smiled. Perhaps she would attempt something rash. That would at least get the Council’s attention.
***
On the day of Senri’s birthday, Nat pulled her aside as she walked to the mess hall and trapped her in a fierce hug.
“Nat!” She pushed against him, trying to free herself. Her friend held on a moment longer before letting her stagger away. “What the hell was that for?”
“You looked like you needed a good birthday strangling.” He grinned and tried to slick back what remained of his curly hair. His instructor had recently shorn it.
“Thanks,” said Senri. Her ribs felt a little bruised. “Any other surprises?”
Nat shrugged. “Lanan and I might be taking you out to a certain tavern tonight.”
“Oh no,” said Senri, pointing a threatening finger at him. “Please, Nat. I don’t need to get out.”
He grabbed her by the shoulders. “Senri, you don’t take advantage of any of your free time. You just mope and train. People are being deployed left and right. You are going to have a night of revelry before we are sent off to some remote fortress.”
“We’re still only trainees, Nat,” she said. “We have time.”
“No, you’re not talking yourself out of it. We’re going out. That’s final. Meet us back at the mess before sundown.” Nat gave her one last smile and left.
As she ate breakfast, Senri tried not to dwell on the thought of the night’s festivities. Training that day involved more complex unit movements followed by conditioning. The grueling runs had become less o
f a pain over time, but Senri still did not look forward to them. Before they began the first lap, however, a courier approached their drill instructor. The drill instructor bent her head and listened to him before looking over at Senri and beckoning her over. She broke rank and joined the two. The courier looked at her.
“Are you Senri of the Warriors?” he asked. She nodded. He passed her an envelope. “Message for you.” He glanced over at the other Warrior. “She’s also been exempted from the day’s duties.”
The drill instructor glared at the courier. He turned and walked off before she had a chance to speak her mind. Senri, on the other hand, remained captive.
“Well, open it,” her drill instructor said.
Senri broke the wax seal and squinted at the neatly formed letters. It read, meet my by way you came last, -A. She folded the letter and placed it in her trouser pocket.
“Is it important?”
She nodded. “I think so, ma’am.”
“Then get out of here before I change my mind.”
Senri saluted and jogged off the training field. She turned away from the barracks and moved along the palace wall, walking as casually as she could to the sewer entrance. Senri had kept the lock pick on herself ever since Alina had sent her away those several nights ago. The irrational part of her had been hoping for something like this to come along. Alina had been so cold when she sent her away. At first she had worried she had been rude or too informal, but then realized that Alina had repeatedly asked her to be anything but formal with her. The princess had probably been irked by Senri panicking every other minute. It was hard to remain calm around Alina, especially when Senri had to force herself not to stare openly at her. She shook her head. As much as Alina wanted them to be friends, Senri was certain that anything further was strictly off limits for many, many reasons. She would just have to remain formal with Alina. Hopefully, it would put enough distance between them until she could control her feelings.
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