by Simon Archer
“Good morning, Rozmarin,” he beamed up at me. He reached out a glowing hand, and I took it. His skin was soft and warm, and my body tingled at his touch.
“Are you ready?” I asked him, but it was more of a question for myself.
He nodded. “Are you?”
“Of course,” I smiled, but honestly, I was glad for his presence as I traveled back to the place I had been neglecting.
“Glad to have you with us, Your Highness,” Adriana commented. “I don’t think I could handle Chris on my own.”
Adriana’s face was a stoic as ever, but her yellow eyes flitted to Christoff, and he returned her look with a smirk.
“Oh, please, you know you love me and my jokes,” he replied.
Adriana turned on her heel without another word and ordered her soldiers to the carriages. Christoff, still grinning from ear to ear and with my hand still in his, led me to a carriage and helped me up. He climbed in after me, and Adriana hopped in front and began directing our company along the path to the West Village.
It was a gorgeous day, and Christoff and I cheerfully chatted as we rode along.
“How’s your training with the army going, my lord?” I asked him as he happily gazed out across Constanta.
“It’s hard work, but I’m learning a lot. I think Anix is trying to break me,” he laughed. His smile sent electricity sparking through me.
“Thanks for the armor, by the way,” he added.
“I’m glad my little gift is helping,” I returned. I pushed a strand of my black hair out of my face and tucked it behind my ear.
“I’m learning a lot, not just about fighting, but about Anix too. She’s really something, isn’t she?” His voice was filled with admiration for the Doom Bringer.
“Yes, I honestly don’t know where we would be without her,” I confessed as I thought about all the amazing accomplishments of my gargoyle friend.
“I think I made a new friend, too,” Christoff disclosed to me with a grin as he scratched his head.
“Oh, really?” I asked, raising my brows in curiosity.
“He’s a gargoyle named Sawyer.”
Adriana had been silently steering the horse-pulled carriage along, but her head turned slightly at the mention of Sawyer. “He’s going to make a fine captain, one day,” she chimed in.
“I’m glad to hear you're fitting in with the soldiers,” I mentioned, happy that Christoff was falling into a nice routine at the castle.
Not only was he melding well with the soldiers and making friends, but the council completely considered him a member. I had been enjoying all the time spent with Christoff, but I had also liked seeing how his interactions had been growing with the other council members and Adriana.
He and Sahar had formed a bond almost as soon as he arrived, but it had taken some time for the other council members, mainly Rachel, to trust him fully. But as he became a more integral part of the council, the two had slowly been forming a more playful relationship, much like his relationship with Adriana. Aerywin truly liked having him around, but she could get along with just about anyone, and Anix had told me she really was impressed with his progression with his dagger.
We continued talking and laughing until the unmistakable buildings of the West Village rose up ahead. All my anxiety had faded as soon as I had seen Christoff waiting for me in the castle courtyard, and our trip here had been carefree, but now that we were on the edge of the village, my anticipation returned tenfold like a cold punch in my gut. Maybe Christoff sensed my fear because he grabbed my hand and gave it a supportive squeeze.
We drove through the barren, terribly maintained streets and on either side, shabby, run-down buildings and abandoned businesses lined the roads with broken windows, leaking ceilings, rats scurrying in and out to scrounge for any food, and even emaciated squatters huddled in the corners of the dark buildings with threadbare blankets and clothing.
Any people that we did pass on the streets looked starved like they were living in a war-torn village. How could it have gotten this bad? With every abandoned building and every starving or begging citizen that we passed, I counted every single one of them as my failures. I had failed these people. I had failed to feed them, to provide for acceptable housing, to provide jobs. I had failed. Miserably so.
I understood now why Christoff had brought me here. It wasn’t because he wanted emotional support from a familiar face. He’d wanted me to witness and experience firsthand the consequences of my choices as ruler of this kingdom. He wanted me to understand where he was coming from when he would tell me that more than thugs and criminals occupied the West Village, as many people outside of the area often thought. They were real people with real struggles that my poor leadership and negligence had made worse.
When we’d finally settled the wagon in the square, we immediately drew people to it. When they realized it was a royal wagon, they became angry. Shouts rang out of the Queen’s negligence. Before any of my guards could strike them down for speaking poorly of the crown, Christoff stopped them. With a raised hand to the guards, he turned to the crowd and began to speak.
“I know many of you are angry with the Queen. I was angry too. Some of you might recognize me since I grew up here in the West Village, but I’ve returned to tell you my story.”
The shouts and angry insults faded as Christoff’s voice carried out across the square. A large crowd of dirty, depraved citizens now stood around the carriages, but many of the angry faces now melted into interest as they recognized Christoff was one of their own.
“I used to be a simple thief,” Chris continued, “to pay for food for my family. I know many of you can relate.”
There were several nods and mumbles of agreement.
“I stole an artifact for Henry from Queen Rozmarin, who is here before you now.” Christoff gestured at me as I sat meekly in the carriage. I tried to keep my decorum, but I couldn’t help the tears welling up in my eyes.
“She came here, to the West Village and paid my family and me a visit, and I thought that was the end for me. I assumed she had come to imprison my family and me for my thieving, but she did the opposite. She made a deal with me, and she hired me and gave me a place to stay in the castle. She even helped my family move to the East Village and is paying them a living wage.”
More murmurs traveled through the crowd, and curious faces turned to look at me.
“And we are here today to finally put an end to all of the suffering. Queen Rozmarin has come to extend a hand.” Christoff turned to me, and I realized he wanted me to speak.
We hadn’t ever spoken about exactly why he wanted me to come to West Village, but I had realized why, and now I saw that he was allowing me the chance to make amends. It would take a long time to repair the damage my negligence had caused, but at least now I could start that plan in motion.
I slowly stood up in the carriage next to Christoff, and he placed his hand on the small of my back for comfort and a show of solidarity, like I had done with my own people when Christoff had accompanied the council and me in the Great Hall. I wiped the tears that had been quietly falling down my cheeks and cleared my throat.
“Honestly, I’m at a loss for words,” I confessed. “All I can say is how terribly sorry I am that you have all had to live like this for so long. I didn’t realize how bad things had gotten, and in my oversight, I assumed you didn’t want any interference from my council or me. But, I see how wrong I was. I’m truly sorry, and I promise you, I will do everything in my power to fix this. I want you all to be safe and happy and prosperous. It’s what you all deserve.”
Everyone stared at me in silence as my words sank in. I didn’t expect them to accept my apology then and there, but I hoped they would at least believe my words were sincere. Christoff gave me a small, warm smile and then turned back to the crowd.
“As she did with me, Queen Rozmarin now wants to extend a hand to all of you. We’ve also come today to recruit any of you who would like to join the army.
I know you might be thinking why in the world you’d want to join the army of someone who has abandoned you, but this is the start of a better future, for the West Village, and for all of Constanta.”
There was another moment of silence. I had no idea how the people were going to react. I saw a ripple run through the crowd as people moved aside, and a young, black-haired man moved forward until he stood a few feet from our cart.
“Christoff, we’ve known each other since we were small boys. We ran up and down these streets raising hell, but I know everything you’ve ever done has always been for the good of your family and your friends. If you stand with the Queen, then I will too.”
The man stuck a hand out, and Christoff bent down and grasped it firmly. He pulled the man up into the cart, and he turned to me and gave me a firm nod. Another man came forward and did the same thing, and then a woman until a crowd of people stepped forward and filled the wagons we had brought.
I hadn’t expected it, but soon people came forward, wanting to talk to me and shake my hand. We all climbed out of the wagons, and the people, one by one, came and talked with us. I watched Christoff laugh and chat with his people. He hugged a sickly looking woman and promised her help would be on the way.
That day, I stood in the square of the West Village and listened to the people’s problems. My people. I listened to them for hours as they spoke of the lack of food on their tables. Of how a mother had to travel for days with no food to get medical attention for her sick infant. Of how they waited for the Queen to save them, to send in more resources, to do something. Of how I had lost their trust. I wept with them and hugged them and promised we would send help. And we did.
After a long day in the West Village of listening to an unbearable amount of sad stories, Christoff, Adriana, and I returned to the castle with four wagons full of recruits in tow. When we returned to the castle courtyard, Adriana led the new soldiers off to the barracks to get them settled in and ready for their new life. Many of them wore eager smiles, and I realized how right Christoff was.
He had told the council and me that many of the West Villagers would be happy to serve their people and to provide for their families as soldiers. In fact, so many of the Westsiders wanted to join the army that we had to send carriages back and forth continuously between the West Village to accommodate all the new recruits, and they fell into the ranks with ease and excitement.
I also sent some of Sahar’s sorcerers and alchemists to tend to the injuries and illnesses that had been plaguing the West Village for far too long. Sahar turned one of the larger abandoned buildings into an infirmary where people could come for medicine and to get help with whatever was ailing them.
With the help of many of the East Villagers, we started a vast rebuilding project in the West Village. Every few days, when we weren’t busy with planning, Christoff and I traveled back to the West Village to speak with the people, and to see how our rebuilding efforts were going. Slowly, but surely the sad, slouching buildings started to take on a new life.
Business opened up, and the people started to look more happy and healthy from all the resources that were pouring into the village. Guilt still ate away at me for how I had let things get so bad, but as I traveled back to the West Village and saw smiling children run along the cart shouting my name, I realized none of this would be happening if it weren’t for Christoff.
After another long, successful day in the West Village, we returned to the castle. I left Christoff at his door and returned to my own chambers to find Sahar waiting for me.
25
Sahar
I had sensed that Rozmarin and Christoff had returned to the castle, so I left my alchemists to finish up their work for the day, and glided through the hallways up to the Queen’s room. After a few minutes, I heard the faint click as she opened the door. She wore a smile on her face, and as she registered that I was in her room, I spoke.
“That smile looks good on you, Rozmarin. You should try it more often, although I realize it’s far easier for you now with Christoff around so much.”
The vampire turned to me with a smirk. “I hear you two have gotten pretty acquainted with yourselves.”
“Perhaps,” I uttered and let that hang in the air, but my close relationship with Christoff was no secret among the council.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, Sahar?” Rozmarin asked me as she undressed. “Lately, I’ve been the one paying you all the visits.”
“I think I’ve found out a piece of information that will greatly help us, but the task at hand is not easy,” I told her as she pulled on nightclothes.
I knew Rozmarin would do anything for her kingdom, but what I was about to ask her would not sit well with many of the other council members. That is why I was here, alone, because without anyone to stop her with their protests, Rozmarin would accept.
“What did you find?” she asked me. An anxiousness crept into her usually steady voice as she walked over and stood nearby with her arms across her chest.
I shifted in the chair I had been sitting in so that I could look her in the eyes. “I need a special ingredient. One that might help with finding a cure for the infected.”
At the mention of a cure, Rozmarin walked over and took a seat by me. She placed her elbows on the table and leaned forward so that her chin rested on her clenched fists. “What’s the ingredient?”
“I need some blood from the BloodDrake,” I declared.
Rozmarin laid her arms flat on the table and then slid them along as she sat back in her chair. She sighed. “And how do you expect to go about that?”
“That’s where you come in,” I replied. “I need you to take a trip there and find her.”
Rozmarin stared at me, her silver eyes wide. Then she shook her head and laughed in disbelief. “What you’re asking is almost impossible, Sahar. I’m sure you already know this.”
“Almost,” I uttered.
“You think it can be done,” she questioned me, and a hint of resolve already started creeping into her voice. Rozmarin would do anything for her people.
“I cannot say for certain, but the BloodDrake is entangled in this. We need her blood,” I relayed to the Queen.
“How am I supposed to fight her, and it sounds like you're suggesting I go on my own?” she asked. She had leaned forward again, sitting almost on the edge of her chair.
“I did not say you should fight her. try to make a deal with her,” I advised.
She scoffed, but when her eyes focused back on me, they turned serious. Rozmarin knew that I would never send her into a situation I did not think she could get out of. Yes, the BloodDrake was dangerous, and I couldn’t entirely see why or how the witch was related to us, but I knew it was important that Rozmarin go to her and get her blood for the cure.
“Ok, I’ll go,” she agreed.
“Also, I’m not suggesting that you go alone. Rachel will want to come with you, and the rest of us are busy with our preparations, but I think it is important that Christoff goes with you,” I informed her.
I couldn’t exactly see why that was important, either, but with all my magic and intuition, I felt like they were the best two for the job.
“No. I won’t take him. It’s too dangerous,” she shook her head with a firm look on her face.
“He is part of the council now, Rozmarin. I know you want to protect him, but just like Rachel, or Aerywin, or Anix, he can take care of himself.”
She thought about my words and how he was just like any of the other council members. We all cared for one another and protected each other, but we also allowed each other to use our strengths for the betterment of the kingdom, and something in me said that Roz and Chris going to the BloodDrake would be for the betterment of the kingdom.
“Think about it, Roz,” I told her.
“I’ll think about it,” she muttered.
“I think he won’t let you go alone, anyway.” I gave Rozmarin a knowing smirk and bid her a goodnight.
; 26
Rozmarin
Though we hardly ever got any time alone during this period, I noticed Christoff had changed, both physically and in the way he interacted with people.
While his muscles became more prominent, and the skin across them pulled tight, his interactions with the people around him grew softer. He was still the same sarcastic Chris with a dry sense of humor, but the more he got to know the people, the more he seemed to smile at them passing by in the halls of the castle. The more he opened up to learning about people’s backgrounds, the more he began reaching out and sympathizing with those whose struggles were not the same as his.
The little thief from the wrong side of the tracks became the fierce warrior who stood for those who could not stand for themselves.
Every day, he grew stronger, and his light shined brighter, so much so that passersby would do double-takes as he passed them. The soft, warm, golden glow that emanated from his skin drew their curious glances.
On top of that, my feelings for him grew stronger. Every night, after our nighttime meal, he would be the last to leave my private dining room. He would hover near the exit as if waiting for me to ask him to stay.
I never did.
That is, until one night, after a particularly large recruitment day. We needed to bring in two extra wagons just to carry all the new recruits to the castle, so Christoff and I both were feeling particularly triumphant that night. He hovered near the door in the way he had done for weeks now, and this time, I stopped him before he could make it through the threshold.
“Christoff,” I called after him, just as he reached for the door handle. I didn’t miss the spark of excitement and intrigue that lit his features when he turned to face me.
“Rozmarin,” he responded, his husky voice causing something in my chest to tighten.
For a moment, I just stood there, mouth half-open to say something, but as his shimmering hazel eyes met my own, all thoughts of what I was about to say fled my mind. His expression softened, and he offered me a sweet smile.