Fallen Queen (Mariposa Book 1)

by Y. R. Shin

She leaned against a small tree that had grown in the middle of the road, opened her water bottle, and drank. She then looked across the field full of weeds. A familiar but somehow slightly different horizon came into sight.

  She’d been riding for three days straight, leaving only half a day until she’d arrive at the border. A border called Gerad, where there was the Boald Field of Rarke in the north, and Morgana in the south. She didn’t know which side Sidan would be on, but it didn’t matter. She would search everywhere to bring him back. Then, so he would never do anything stupid like this again…

  Her face suddenly stiffened. She realized that she was too carried away in her own thoughts that she had been ignoring a basic error.

  Military laws were no joke. If the army was as strict as it was two hundred years ago, those who set foot in it would not be able to leave without a good reason. She wasn’t even sure if she could persuade someone who had gone to war with such a strong resolution. How was she going to pull him out without causing a scene?

  She couldn’t make him become a deserter. She didn’t even know how to get into the camp to find him.

  She felt utterly helpless.

  Had she been mistaking her present self for a queen who could control everything with the wave of a hand, or a single smile?

  Feeling her thighs shake from the long ride, she collected her thoughts. Now is the time to be truly cool, she told herself over and over to empty her mind.

  Perhaps because she had been riding with only a few hours of sleep every now and then, her eyelids kept drooping as she sat there.

  When she woke up from a nap she hadn’t even noticed she was taking, some knights were riding toward her.

  “Who goes there? There has been a strict order not to come near the border during wartime.”

  Their helmet-covered faces were hard to see because of the sun shining behind them. She instinctively sprang up. They all had triangular brassards around their left arms made from the wolf banner, the symbol of Rarke.

  When she turned her head at the rhythmic shaking of the ground, soldiers slowly marching from across the field came into view.

  “Is this cavalcade headed to the border?” she asked, her voice still half asleep.

  A tall, brawny knight at the front grabbed his sword and said, “Don’t you know that those roaming around near the border during wartime can be deemed suspicious and heavily punished? Identify yourself.”

  “I am Reuyen Detua, the daughter of Jess Detua, the horse dealer of Gyujen about three days’ ride from here.”

  “And what is your business here?”

  “I am headed to the Gerad border.”

  The knights thought she was just walking about the area, not knowing that there was a war going on. They stopped for a moment. They had spotted the long object covered with an old fabric. The moment their eyes landed on the frayed hilt of the sword, they became visibly alarmed.

  “Why?” said the brawny knight.

  Thousands of soldiers came into Reuyen’s sight. The army marched slowly but surely and stopped not far away from the tree she was resting underneath.

  She looked back at the knights in bronze armor at the front of the cavalcade. There was a man with a rectangular brassard instead of a triangular one on his left arm. He must have been the commander. The two flag bearers standing next to him bore a wolf banner and a roe deer banner.

  Though it was a bit different from her memory, she did remember a yellow roe deer banner. The House of Chesa.

  An odd feeling of enervation shot up her spine and pressed on the back of her head.

  House Chesa ended up joining forces with the House of Brionake to bring the queen down in her final years, but it was an old house renowned for its loyalty to Rarkalia.

  Reuyen forced herself to look away from the flags. She took out an old parchment proving her identity and another piece of parchment that certified the transaction between Detua Stables and the royal family.

  “I’m not sure if this will suffice, but here is a receipt from a transaction with the Rarkian royal family. I am one of the war horse providers to the royal family. If you are headed to the border, would it be all right if I joined you?” Reuyen asked, with tentative hope.

  Though it was not one of the official trading places, the seal of a northern wolf on the document was not to be ignored. The knight who took hold of the crumpled document next scrutinized it with his sharp eyes hidden in the helmet. All four knights took a look at the document one at a time and then threw it back at her.

  “This may be proof of your identity, but you’re standing in the way of the cavalcade. That’s a serious crime by itself. You most certainly cannot join us, but I will hear the reason you’re heading to the border.”

  “I am on my way to retrieve my brother, who enlisted himself, for he is the heir of our house.”

  “Move aside. A war is not some kind of a play your little head made up.”

  The knights scoffed at her and turned their horses around.

  Reuyen slowly smiled as she watched them trot away. It was a cold sneer.

  She didn’t have to make it up. She knew without having to imagine it what lay beyond that horizon in her head. A sudden desire to pull him down from the horse and scream at his face gushed forth. Do you have any idea who the woman is you’re laying eyes on?

  But swallowing all those words, Reuyen quietly led Den and herself out of their way. After all, she was only the daughter of a nameless horse dealer.

  Chapter Four

  The wildcat-like eyes, glistening with the kind of energy one feels at the beginning of a new year, era, or time, slowly grew dull with boredom. He was Jacalrin Endo Chesa, the commander of the newly dispatched reinforcements for the rear echelon of the Rarkian army.

  Upon hearing the news of Morgana dispatching reinforcements and the scale of the war growing, he had declared an end to his luxurious, comfortable capital life and volunteered himself. The true reason he’d volunteered instead of continuing his war-free, lazy life in the capital was simple.

  The division led by Commander Paseid, the current commander-in-chief of the Rarkian army, was winning battle after battle, however small, and his brother, Kalajesh Chesa, was also off subjugating the Galkamas in the northwest.

  And Jacalrin had had enough of the uneventful capital life. He was bored. But even this mission was starting to get boring.

  To be exact, he was bored of marching.

  He was on his way to serve Paseid, his old childhood friend. Now, who was Paseid? He was only the great, sole duke of Rarke, often called the son of the red wolf, the mighty knight who’d spent half his life resolving small and large disputes within Rarke, punishing the greedy Galkamas—who always sought for an opportunity to invade Rarke—and accomplishing a myriad of other majestic deeds.

  Though his renown as a knight was overshadowed by his fame as the son of the red wolf, Paseid was praised all throughout the country like none other. Even Kalajesh, who was widely praised for his proficiency in books and swords—not to mention his exceptional beauty that some claimed was the finest in the capital—and who also happened to be Jacalrin’s brother, was a step below Paseid.

  Jacalrin had left with a spring in his step like a young man in love, excited that he would soon be able to swing his sword to his heart’s content with Paseid. But just sitting on his horse and walking for over a month was killing him. Unfortunately, this was the fastest speed ten thousand men could move at once.

  Scratching the itchy spot on his cheek hidden under his helmet, Jacalrin unenthusiastically replied to his subordinate’s report. “Still following us?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Sir Verohan, didn’t you say she was the daughter of some war horse merchant nearby? Who is she looking for again?”

  A middle-aged knight from House Chesa following on his diagonal, Sir Seisen Verohan, looked back at the woman coming along on her horse behind them at the same speed. It had almost been an hour since she crossed their pat
h.

  At this time when the tensions were heightening as they approached the border, she was not a welcome guest. The woman following them, in ragged clothes with a single sword, riding a horse that seemed of extraordinary quality even to a seasoned knight, had an eerie air about her.

  “I’ll send her away.”

  Jacalrin murmured, “Do whatever you want,” and yawned like he had no care for his dignity.

  The woman was persistent.

  Whether it was because she had no fear, or she was just a little cuckoo, she stopped only for a moment when the knights and soldiers threatened her and started following again. Her almost obsessive behavior started to make them wonder if she was a Morganaan assassin with the mission to murder the commander of the Rarkian reinforcements.

  Very much unlike the commander of ten thousand soldiers he was, Jacalrin started to lightly pound on his clanging faulds as if he were trying to relieve his lower back, stiffening under the heavy weight of the armor.

  Not caring at all about the others glancing at him, Jacalrin looked over at the ridge beyond the vast field, then briefly eyed the band of soldiers following him. They were close enough to the border to be able to feel each other tensing, but the commander looked just as bored as before. Finally, his dull gaze reached the woman’s horse, at a bit of a distance from the cavalcade.

  Jacalrin’s eyes sparkled. He held back the reins with one hand and held up the other in a fist. The army following them soon stopped at his echo of, “Halt!”

  Seisen observed the distance left until they reach the ridge with a questioning look on his face. Then, at his commander’s sudden orders, he startled and turned his head.

  “Sir Verohan, let us stop here and rest for a while. Send a messenger to the border patrol headquarters. And bring that woman to me.”

  “Sir?”

  “We’ll have to save up some energy even if we can’t join them right away anyway, so it should be fine to stall a little bit until we receive the reply.” Jacalrin stated this to put an end to all of Seisen’s unspoken questions, and stretched his arms.

  Seisen looked like he didn’t know how to react to this. But he was apparently unable to think of a reason to persuade him otherwise, as he turned and quietly headed to the rear.

  “Here she is, sir. As you commanded.”

  The woman kneeled in front of Jacalrin, who had dismounted his horse, taken his helmet off, and was wiping his sweaty face.

  The woman was younger than he had expected. Twenty-two or twenty-three, at most. Considering that he was twenty-four, one could say she was around his age. Though her appearance suggested she was a northerner, not everyone was convinced she didn’t have a secret mission from Morgana to assassinate the commander. Even the knights became more alarmed at her not showing the slightest sign of feeling intimidated.

  If they’d been in the midst of battle or a prim commander’s army, she would most likely have been taken away and questioned. In that sense, she was certainly lucky she’d run into Jacalrin’s army.

  After staring at her for a moment, he nodded to the knights, who were keeping a very close watch on her.

  “Go about your duties. It’s fine. We’ll have to move again before nightfall.”

  When they disappeared at last at his stern orders, Jacalrin scrutinized her.

  With reddish brown hair and lighter colored brown eyes, she had the looks of a typical southern Rarkian. Actually, looking into them, Jacalrin thought her eyes had an odd reddish shade to them.

  He had seen enough beautiful women in the capital to not feel anything for her, but she did look quite nice despite her modest dress. And yet.

  What is up with this woman?

  Much to his chagrin, though Jacalrin prided in his ability to read people, he couldn’t read anything from her cold, dead eyes. He half expected her to be desperate, since she apparently was looking for someone, but her eyes showed no signs of desperation or any kind of emotion at all. Her steady breath even when facing this powerful knight of Chesa seemed almost stately.

  Not being a man of roundabout expression, Jacalrin asked frankly, “What’s with you? Why did you risk your life following us?”

  At his voice, her stone-cold face faintly gave way. She spoke. Her voice was as unreadable as her eyes. “My name is Reuyen. I was on my way to find my brother.”

  “Your enlisted brother? For what?”

  “I intend to bring him back home, since he is the only male heir to the family.”

  Losing interest, Jacalrin scoffed at her with disappointment. The House of Chesa was a house of dignity and erudition, but Jacalrin spoke plainly without all the formality. “A house needs a country to exist, and yet here you are trying to smuggle out a soldier to save your own house. This is absurd. I was bored enough to find your absurdity amusing, at least. But come on, don’t you think you’re being naïve?”

  He expected her to have some sort of an emotional response to this degree of sneering, yet she asked a totally different question. “You’re from House Chesa, as in the house of Hansen Deuk Chesa, the right-hand man of the duke regent Brionake?”

  “Yes, that Chesa… Duke regent? Did you really just say that treacherous word? You just called the founder of the Brionake Dynasty a…”

  He stopped mid-sentence. He had realized the oddity in her words.

  It had been two hundred years since the foundation of the Brionake Dynasty.

  Two hundred years ago, Prince Consort Belbarote Paseid Brionake had overthrown the tyrant and become the first king of the Brionake Dynasty. Some called him the founder. Since then, King Belbarote Paseid Brionake’s first son had succeeded the throne and his second son had succeeded to House Brionake, and thus had begun the era of peace in the war-torn country.

  No one remembered Belbarote, who’d started a new Rarke, as a regent who had usurped the throne. So, as a descendent of Chesa who was extremely proud of joining the Brionake’s revolution and saving Rarke, Jacalrin was not delighted to hear that phrase.

  “There’s only a certain degree of rudeness I’ll let you get away with,” he snapped, scowling at her. “Or are you just dumb?”

  Reuyen didn’t respond at all to the young man’s harsh reproach. She was overwhelmed with the familiar smell of metal, and her ears were about to explode just with the sound of her heartbeat and the noise of an army.

  Barely coming back to reality, Reuyen looked at the remnants of Hansen Deuk Chesa. With some time, she could almost make out his face in his descendent. The face of Hansen, the man who had once served her but later watched her die at the scaffold with cool eyes. Cool, but with a hint of pity.

  Finding herself trying to find the past from a descendent, she unconsciously smiled, her lips shaking.

  And… Duke regent, duke regent. It was clearly her mistake. She couldn’t think properly.

  “My mistake. Forgive me, sir.”

  Jacalrin squinted at the young woman. His senses became oddly acute.

  Forgive me, sir?

  Is that something an ordinary woman would say?

  Now that he thought of it, there was something oddly formal about the way she spoke to him. He started to wonder if she indeed was an anti-Brionake follower. Outer looks could be disguised. Now he started to doubt the existence of her brother.

  But he soon stopped himself. She just must be a little off up there. His intuition was pointing at that. And he knew better than anyone that now wasn’t a good time to waste his energy chasing after his own curiosity.

  Right then, a rider bearing the red wolf banner of House Brionake came back with the messenger. The knights started going around ordering the soldiers to go back into formation. Jacalrin brushed the dirt off his hands and stood up.

  “Stop fooling around here and go home,” he told the young woman. “A war’s no playground. Don’t even think about coming.”

  Reuyen suddenly raised her head and shouted desperately, “Horses…!”

  “What?”

  “I’m the da
ughter of a horse dealer. I could be of use with the horses.”

  “So? An army this size usually comes with horse handlers.”

  His face showed discomfort with this rude woman who clearly did not know her place. But even at his obvious derision, she clenched her teeth and didn’t back down. Now that she had no other way to get into the camp, this was her only chance.

  “A noble knight of House Chesa leading an army of reinforcements must mean that there will be a big battle soon. Though I might be insufficient to fight Morgana, I will be of some help. I may be alone, but one more is better than none.”

  “I don’t know what kind of fake rumor you’ve heard, but we’re going because the damn empire fanatics are starting to make things big, not because we’re losing. We have enough men, so commoners like you don’t have to—”

  She cut him off. “As a worker in the rear, then. I volunteer. I want to.”

  It was undoubtedly an obsession; she was not even taking a second to think about the consequences.

  Amazed at her unbent spirit, but also quite opposed to the words that were coming out of her mouth, Jacalrin silently looked down at her. He started to wonder again if she actually was a spy sent by someone, trying to infiltrate their army.

  “Sir Chesa, the supreme command has authorized our approach to the camp beyond the ridge,” said a messenger soldier.

  Even after his report, Jacalrin stood there like a statue for a while. His wildcat-like eyes narrowed at the woman holding her head up high. “Hmm.”

  Though it was only for a brief moment, Reuyen had underestimated the young Chesa. The commander still looked a bit like a child and seemed that careless. But the words casually spoken by his slightly arced lips were not what she expected at all. “Still no.”

  Jacalrin waved away the soldier who’d come to relay the report and squatted in front of Reuyen.

  “The receipt with the royal family you showed might be real, but how should I know if your identification isn’t forged? We can’t even verify if your brother is indeed at the front right now. You should be thankful we didn’t arrest you right here and question you. But don’t worry. I’m not interested in fooling around with women, so if you just say, ‘I am sorry,’ and apologize, I’ll let this slide. I have a lot to do, you see.”