by R. K. Thorne
Miara pressed her lips together in restraint. “Please, believe me. I would rather give them a dagger in the shoulder blades than one word of your plans. But it’s quite reasonable to be cautious. I would be. I will retire.”
“I’ll escort our guest,” his mother offered, voice gentle. Aven’s gut twisted at the idea of the two of them going off without him. What would his mother say—or do, for that matter? He wanted to groan but managed only to frown in concern as the two women left, leaving an empty place behind him at the table.
“Aven, explain your plan,” his father said.
He nodded. “This mage army is not a willing force. If we can free them, they will have no loyalty to those that enslaved them. We can offer them safe haven—and hopefully they can offer us aid. With even a handful, I suspect we can eliminate this threat to our land while also righting the wrongs against them.”
“But what can Kavanar be planning? How will they attack?” Asten asked.
“I think they want us to do the attacking. Drawing our forces into their lands gives them the advantage. We can get more information on all of these questions if we free the right mages. And if they can get out of Kavanar alive.”
Lady Toyl cut in. “How can we be so sure of this mage threat? What if it was a trick? Or perhaps it was all a spell, an illusion?”
“I was branded, I was tortured. Do you not see these wounds?” He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself before he said something hasty. “Magic doesn’t create illusions out of nothing, it influences the natural world. Unless they had armies of very intelligent rabbits they wanted to convince me are mage armies, that’s not possible.”
“Perhaps this is all just a ruse to distract from our discovery of your magic,” Toyl countered, unswayed.
“I told you of my magic.”
“Not until after Alikar had already learned of it and told us.”
“Magic is not illegal in Akaria,” Lord Dyon cut in. The fact that the usually critical Dyon was willing to defend Aven said something about the gravity of the situation. Or was it desperation?
“I am not trying to distract you,” Aven insisted. “I don’t know what I can say to convince you of the seriousness of this threat that I haven’t already. I don’t know who told Alikar, but it was always my plan to share it with you as soon as I arrived. Once I’d seen the threat we faced, I knew I had to act.”
“And yet, you were comfortable deceiving us up until now,” said Lady Toyl smoothly.
The air began to twitch and bluster around Aven, and out of long habit, he cleared his thoughts and forced the energy back down. But then, perhaps he shouldn’t? He no longer needed to. Maybe it would be a good reminder to them all that magic was a real and powerful thing. For now he let the unnatural air currents fade. “I was far from comfortable. I’ve never wanted to be anything but a king to my people. You think I wanted this? You think I wanted to be born with something that could cost me all of it, something I have no control over?” That was giving away far more than he intended, and Aven’s voice was more of a growl than he might have liked. Good thing Miara wasn’t here to hear him say these things, but all this was a fresh reminder of the resentment, the frustration of so many years.
A quiet fell over the room, tense as a taut bowstring.
“I didn’t ask for this magic. But for good or ill, I’ve got it. I choose to believe it’s for a good reason. I choose to believe some good can come of it. I’m going to use it to help Akaria. If you’ll let me.”
Wind whistled outside. No one spoke.
Finally Toyl relented. “Of course, my lord,” she said, giving him the slightest bow.
Dyon spoke up. “We must keep unity. Alikar said word came from Kavanar. Who would have information on Aven’s magic but those who kidnapped him? They know he escaped. They know their plan failed. This is a blatant attempt to sow discord among us. We must not let them succeed.”
Suspicion coiled in Aven’s mind at those words. Could this always have been their plan? Not to send him back and out him as a mage—but to sow discord? That had to be it. Kidnapping him, killing him, those may have served their secondary concern over star magic, as Daes had revealed. But they hadn’t been sure he had it. In fact, when Miara had begun her journey toward Estun, Aven had not yet received the star map from Teron. Their plans revolved less around keeping Aven in particular off the throne and more around weakening Akaria as a whole.
And when Akaria was divided, attacking mage forces would have that much of an easier time, as would traditional forces, for that matter.
Dyon continued, “The last thing they’ll expect is our restraint. We can’t play right into their hands. They want us to make a hasty move, a mistake.”
“Fair points,” said Asten. “We can begin mobilizing units on the Takaran side, like mine in Shansaren. Start moving them west, so they’ll be ready. This cannot be ignored,” Asten said. “They must be punished for this.”
“It won’t be ignored.” His father straightened and folded his arms across his chest. “But we will be more cunning than an immediate blind march on the capital, Evrical.” The warden gave a crisp nod of agreement. “Asten, work with Devol and Dyon and any generals we have visiting. Let’s plan out some options. And do not share these plans with Alikar at any time.”
“My lord?”
“Plan as though Gilaren may be friendly to Kavanar.”
Murmurs swept through the group. But Aven nodded. His father was right. Alikar hadn’t quite said as much, but the risk was high.
Samul continued, “I want you and your lieutenants updating our plans of attack on Kavanar. I want strategies for the capital as well as Sapana.” Asten gave another crisp nod.
“And the mage compound?” Aven added.
“Yes. Mark it on the map, if by some awful chance it’s not there already.”
“It’s not.”
Samul shook his head. “We have no one to blame but ourselves. Ojir, it can’t hurt to start working on those siege upgrades. Beneral, let’s talk more about those rumors you’ve heard. I’m interested to see what else we can find out beyond Aven’s endeavor to weaken our enemy forces. Which you’ll be moving forward with, correct, Aven?”
Aven nodded briskly. “Yes, sire.”
“Also, arrange us a… demonstration, let’s call it. Let’s have the doubters among us see for themselves what magic can do. And I personally would like to understand its capabilities for war better. But first, let us recuperate from our journeys and celebrate our prince’s return with a sunset feast in his honor. And Aven—one more word with you, please. You have a visitor.”
2
Rumors & Agendas
Miara followed the steward and Aven’s mother down the stretching hallways. Great arching stone rose more than the height of two men above them. A florid, geometric pattern formed by the arches fascinated her as they walked, and she almost forgot to keep track of their turns. Almost.
She felt safer here than she had in a long time. Safer because she was far from the Masters and because she had a powerful ally here for once in her life.
More than an ally, even.
But it was also a strange place full of unknowns. She, too, was Aven’s ally, and to be a good one, she could not have her head in the clouds. Or the fancy arches.
“Fayton, what room do you think?” Aven’s mother Elise spoke to the steward. Fayton wore a midnight-blue tunic, the faintest trace of a bear embroidered on the back in just a slightly lighter color. Elise herself wore a gown of bright morning-glory blue that looked simple on the surface, but the cut and flow of it made Miara suspect it was far from a common garment.
The steward led them around a right corner. “I was planning on the far east one back here, my lady. The one with three windows.” Were windows so rare here that rooms could be identified by the number they possessed?
Elise smiled very slightly and nodded. All of the queen’s movements were calm, restrained, as though it would take much to move her.<
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They turned right and stopped finally at a far door on their left. Which direction was the mountainside this far in? Had they gone halfway through, or were they facing the other side of the mountain now? She had no idea.
She relinquished her small pack to Fayton at his insistence. She did not have much to settle, but Fayton made a show of helping her settle it anyway. As he went, and she tried not to feel awkward about him touching or moving any of her meager belongings, she wandered around the room. She and Elise had been led into a sitting room with a great stone hearth, bears reared on their haunches carved into the stone of each side. A writing desk appeared stocked with supplies, and a table and chairs awaited meals. The next room revealed a large curtained bed drowning in navy velvet, another large fireplace, and two of the three fabled windows. Beyond the bed, she found another small room and the remaining window. A bathing pool large enough for a person—or two?—took up most of the small room. Some kind of small floor hearth sat under the pool.
“What is this for, Fayton?” she asked, as he seemed hopeful she would ask him questions.
“Oh, for heating the bath from beneath with coals from the fire. Most comfortable.”
“Such luxury,” Miara breathed. Too much. How could she accept this when her father and Luha were still trapped in the Masters’ clutches? An ache grew in her chest at the thought of them. So many mages remained enslaved. Was she supposed to relax and just not think about all of them? No, she couldn’t accept this.
She stepped back out into the regal bedroom. Elise spoke to a servant out of earshot, near the outer door, ordering some food and tea. “I don’t deserve this, Fayton. I can’t. Don’t you have someone important who needs this room?”
Fayton smiled reassuringly. “All the baths in Estun have these hearths. While a great luxury in general, this hold is well appointed in more than its security. Don’t let it disturb you.”
She wasn’t buying it. “So, is this an average room for Estun then?”
“Well, there are three windows.”
“I don’t want any special treatment. I’m no different than you.”
“I’m quite sure you are different from me in at least two ways.”
“Such as?”
“I am not a mage, and I have no royal heirs in love with me.”
She coughed, trying to cover her surprise. They had barely arrived. How did he know so much? “You are… quite observant.”
“I’ve been told that a few times. I also respect the prince very much.”
“How many windows does Aven’s room have?” she said. “I mean, the prince’s?”
His smile broadened. “One.”
“I don’t need this,” she said, rushing toward him and keeping her voice low. She laid a hand on his arm. “Like I said, you can save this room for someone important.”
“I am quite sure you are very important, my lady.” The ease and confidence in his voice drove her a step back in shock and almost made her believe him.
“I’m no lady.”
“But you will be, won’t you?” he said. She blinked, entirely unsure how to respond to him. His eyes twinkled. “I know our prince very well, I’ve served him since he was a child. But never mind. You would prefer me to use Miara then?” How had he learned her name so quickly? And… everything else? Perhaps as head steward, that was his job. Miara followed Fayton back out to the main room. He appeared to be done settling her or refreshing her room or whatever he’d been doing. “Is there anything you need me to acquire, my lady… Miara?” he said with a crisp bow.
“Oh—uh, no—I have everything I need.”
Elise was settled on a nearby bench, staring into space, when she perked up at that comment. “You can ask for anything you need from Fayton, Miara.” She paused, searching Miara’s face. “It’s not an imposition. You’re our guest. We have vast stores here; Estun can be self-sufficient for several months—”
“I read as much in my research,” Miara replied.
Elise gave her a crooked smile. “You have an uncanny way of reminding me that you were until recently my greatest enemy in the world.”
Miara swallowed, eyes wide. She’d asked for that. “Don’t forget high treason. I should really have worse accommodations. Perhaps the dungeon?”
Elise snorted. “Anyone actually interested in committing the wrongs you mention would have followed through on them more effectively instead of politely escorting their target back home. Now, please. Give Fayton something to do. He gets bored, and visitors bring all the unusual tasks and breaks from the mundane.”
Fayton looked far from offended at this and only grinned.
Miara hesitated a moment longer. “Well, a change of clothes would help. I guess I don’t need to wear the same riding leathers every single day.”
Fayton looked to Elise with a knowing expression, and the queen nodded. What knowledge were they exchanging? “Perhaps water for a bath too?” Elise offered.
Miara’s eyes widened. Oh gods, did she smell? Great. She’d be remembered by all the Akarian Assembly and the queen as that dirty mage slave who smelled.
Well. No. Slave no longer. Who cared if she were dirty or smelly or a mage or a garden snake?
She was free.
“I’ll have the water sent up.” And with that, Fayton was gone.
Silence settled over the sitting room, and Miara pretended to stroll around and explore and admire the room, but mostly she did not know what to do next. Being stranded alone with Aven’s mother so quickly after arriving in Estun was… not what she’d expected. And she had no idea what to do or say next.
“Come, have a seat with me, Miara. I’m sure Aven will join us before the tea even arrives.”
With no reason to object and no non-embarrassing excuse to flee screaming in fear, she sat down next to the queen by the fire. Elise’s golden curls danced in the firelight. Miara’s own hair was probably wayward and falling out of its bun. A thin silver necklace draped across the queen’s sculpted collarbones, dangling an emerald that sparkled and taunted Miara with its effortless grace.
Miara glanced down at herself. Her Masters-issued leathers were a brownish-black, a combination of their original dye and the dirt of wear. Her boots were still caked with mud from the roads to Estun. Her most beautiful adornment, in her opinion, was her dagger. She’d never worn dresses or jewelry the likes of what Elise probably had. Why would she have? She’d had no reason to, nor the means to acquire them if she’d desired them.
But would Akarians be happy with a leather-clad, muddy queen with a dagger in her boot? Would they want a queen who wore boots at all?
She had no idea. But she felt worlds apart from Elise just then. The queen’s shoulders and neck were bare and elegant in the dress, the skin of a woman two decades her superior—at least—lined and softened with age but all the more distinguished for it.
Miara couldn’t imagine herself looking that regal or elegant at any age. She would always have the scar from the brand on her shoulder. She was unsure if it had fully healed, or if it ever would. She could perhaps heal it, although she wondered if the magic that had created it would change the rules somehow. No matter, she had no desire to heal it, really. Like the scar on her cheek, smoothing it away felt false. She didn’t want to erase her past, nor could she.
“He risked everything for you,” Elise said, cutting through her thoughts matter-of-factly.
Miara froze, more unsure than ever. It was not a feeling she liked.
“All of this,” Elise said, gesturing up and around them.
“I tried to convince him otherwise.”
“As did I,” Elise said. Her voice was slow, steady. Miara suspected the queen wanted to watch her squirm a little. But for what purpose?
“The risk he took was not lost on me. And seeing this doesn’t make it any easier.”
“He’s quite in love with you, you know.”
Miara dodged Elise’s gaze by staring into the fire.
“Of cours
e, it seems we were wrong to discourage him, and he was right.”
What could Miara possibly say to that? She struggled but thought of nothing.
“I’d like to know your intentions toward him, if any,” Elise said simply.
“My what?”
“Your intentions.”
“I have no right to any intent—”
“This is not Kavanar,” Elise said, waving away the idea like an annoying insect. “I am not concerned if you have a ‘right.’ As far as I’m concerned, you do. I have heard my son’s words, seen his determination. His feelings for you are strong. What I am concerned with are your feelings toward him.”
How could Miara possibly respond to this? She opened her mouth, but no words came out.
“Do you return his sentiments?” Elise said, her voice gentler.
Miara stared at her boots. Why was Elise asking her this? Why was this so hard to discuss? Did she simply want to see Miara’s face as she answered the question?
Yes, that must be it. The queen wanted to judge Miara’s sincerity for herself.
“Very much so, yes.” She tried to keep her breath above a whisper but only barely succeeded.
Elise nodded curtly, the gesture ambiguous. “Forgive me for being so direct. We have very little time. How these people come to know you will be established only once. We must carefully manage the situation if you are to be queen.”
“Queen?” My, this woman was frank. Perhaps that was where Aven got it from. Miara finally met Elise’s intense stare.
“You know Aven’s wife could be nothing else.”
True, but she was not sure how she felt about the situation. Her feelings for Aven were not something she could push away or pretend didn’t exist. That hadn’t worked very well the first time anyway, had it? Not that she wanted to push them away now either. But… she had never imagined herself as anything like a queen. She was a horse healer, by the gods. Still, if Aven asked her to be his companion in this, as in all things, she also couldn’t imagine saying no to him.