by N M Zoltack
“Do you want to try me?”
Another groan sounded. This one was so loud and wooden that Noll knew it must have originated because of the settee. Surely the king hadn’t stood. Noll couldn’t remember the last time the king stood.
“Go ahead. I am the king. Let us see who they will listen to. I assure you, they belong to me.”
“No one belongs to you. Not the kingdom, not anyone. Your children hate you. Your people despise you. They have not seen you in how long? You are not a king they see. You are not a king they stand behind. You can hardly stand yourself!”
Noll hung his head. Did the king think that Noll hated him because Noll no longer said that he loved his father? Maybe he should tell the king how he felt. Maybe that would help. Noll did not like how angry they both sounded. The queen was being so vicious, and the king was not being nice either. Why must they fight?
“So that is your justification for committing adultery? Against your king and husband?”
“You are not my husband, not truly, and you know it.”
Adultery? Noll wrinkled his nose and glanced around. He should leave. This was boring anyhow. Why was he waiting around? He wanted something. What was it? Oh, yes, the dog! He still wanted a dog so badly. Maybe once the queen left, Noll could make his father happy. If his father was in a good mood, surely Noll would be rewarded with the puppy he so desperately wanted.
“You cannot deny that the child you bear is not mine.”
“Of course not. You won’t talk to me. You won’t look at me. You won’t even be in the same room with me.”
“If you came to me—”
“I shouldn’t have to! Also, you could come to me. But, no. You can’t move unless the guards carry you in a litter. Do you realize how sad that is?” the queen berated Noll’s father. “You’re not a king. You’re a fat sloth. That’s what you are.”
“And you,” the king snapped, “you are not half the queen Rohesia had been.”
Rohesia. Noll straightened. That was his mother’s name. He didn’t remember her. How could he? He’d only been a little older than one year old when she’d died. It always made Noll sad to think of her. He knew she had blue eyes and dark blond hair. Several rooms in the castle had pictures of the previous queen. It saddened him to look at her. Truly, only one painting of her did he like. The one that hung in the kitchen was the only one where his mother had been smiling. Noll wasn’t supposed to go to the kitchen, but the scullery maids would sneak him treats and desserts. He went to the kitchen most days to eat and watch the chaos. It wasn’t easy to cook for so many. Noll didn’t envy the chefs and the cooks and the maids.
“Tell me the name of the man who impregnated you,” the king demanded, his voice booming.
“No,” Aldith said, suddenly sounding calm.
“Give me his name!”
“I refuse.”
“If you will not name him, then you give me no choice. You will die after you give birth to that man’s child. Does his life mean more to you than your own?”
If there was an answer, Noll did not hear it. Out of fear that Aldith would storm out of the room, Noll took off, hurrying away as quietly as possible. Never before had he wished he could disappear. If he were to be discovered after his father had sentenced his wife to die, Noll was afraid he’d be killed too.
Noll wanted a dog, but even more so, he wanted to live. His life might not be perfect, but he wasn’t ready to die.
5
Rase Ainsley
All of his short life, Rase had only known one thing and one thing only.
Hunger.
He was all of twelve years old, but several had mistaken him for seven years old. His short stature and his lack of growth might be because most days, he went without food. And the worst part of all was that he ate the most food out of anyone in his family.
His sister, a sixteen-year-old who looked to be about Rase’s actual age, scowled at Rase. “Go and wash up,” Leanne said crossly.
“I’m not that dirty,” Rase protested.
Her expression softened, and she pursed her lips. “Worms again?”
Rase shrugged one shoulder and kicked a rock. They were standing behind their falling-apart house. It was more or less four walls and a roof, no beds, no tables, just a few crude bowls in the corner for the little food they had, if they had any. When it rained, water leaked through. There wasn’t much room at all for the four of them inside.
At least their parents were still alive. Some of the other kids only had a ma or a pa. Some had neither and lived on the streets. Rase didn’t want to think about what that would be like. To be rained on. To be beaten by the wind. To be scorched by the sun.
Then again, during the summer, when the heat was immense, Rase would sleep outside despite his entire tiny body being covered in sweat. Under the stars, he would pretend he could float away, fly away, leave. Be anywhere else.
One day, Rase would leave. He would find a house that didn’t have a leaky roof. He would never be hungry again. His belly would be full, his heart too, and he would be happy.
It was only sometimes that Rase would have to resort to trying to find worms to eat, and yes, earlier today, he had. Worms were disgusting, and he hated how he had to slurp them down, but when you were hungry, and your belly was empty, you would eat just about anything to stop the pains. So, yes, his knees were dirty, his fingers covered in mud, and it would be weeks before he would get all the grime out from beneath his nails.
“Oh, Rase.” Leanne shook her head, her thin strands blowing about in the slight breeze.
Her hair was a light brown that barely reached her shoulders. A few clumps were missing. Rase once teased her about her hair falling out, and she had been so angry with him that she hadn’t talked to him for a week, not even after he gave her his portion of food. He hadn’t realized that his comment would hurt her so much. He had only wanted to laugh. His ma had been furious.
“All we have is family,” their ma always said.
That was about right, family only and no food. Rase felt as if he was stuck in a loop that never ended—being hungry, going without, feeling weak, ready to die, eating a mouthful that never came close to satisfying anyone, being hungry…
Rase shrugged again. “I’ll go wash,” he said.
“Please. If Ma knew…”
She would cry. Not while Rase or his sister was around, but Rase knew she cried. He heard her sniffles late at night. Once, when she had gone almost two weeks without any food, she had argued fiercely with their pa. Rase still could remember every word.
“You promised you would take care of me,” his ma had said.
“I am doing the best that I can.”
“You have done nothing to provide for us!”
“That isn’t true, and you know it!”
“You gambled away the land.”
“Neither of us are farmers.”
“Yes, but I thought the land would be enough for us. I thought… I don’t know what I thought.”
“Land that we couldn’t use doesn’t help us any.”
“But the money you got for it—”
“We used up. I know. We’ll find more.”
“How?”
This last had been whispered by Rase’s ma, and he hadn’t been able to hear anymore outside of his pa hushing his ma.
“What is gambling?” Rase asked his sister.
Leanne stared at him, shocked. “Don’t you worry about that none,” she said angrily.
Surprised and hurt by her harsh tone, Rase meekly went to the small stream a five-minute walk from their house. There, he stripped his ragged clothes behind a tree and jumped into the water. The tall, full branches of the trees prevented the warm sunrays from reaching the waters, and he shivered as he scrubbed his skin. He could count his ribs, every one of them. His hand covered his cheeks. He didn’t like how sunken-in his face was, so drawn and gaunt. He had learned that word from his ma. She often called Rase and Leanne gaunt to their pa wh
en she didn’t realize Rase was nearby.
He couldn’t help himself. Rase didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but his ma had a tendency to yell, and her voice carried. His ma was worried about them. Rase understood that. He was worried too.
As much as he didn’t want to hear his ma yell, Rase didn’t have a lot of other places to go. He didn’t have any friends. Two years ago, maybe three, he did have a friend, a boy named Darwin. Too many times, though, Rase would borrow some of Darwin’s food. When his friend realized, Darwin grew so upset, and the two fought. Darwin thought Rase didn’t care about him, only his stew and pheasant meat. That wasn’t true at all, but Darwin wouldn’t listen. The two hadn’t talked in years. In fact, Rase hadn’t even seen his friend in forever.
“Not that we’re still friends,” Rase muttered. He missed Darwin and not for his food. With Darwin, Rase could pretend he was normal. He could imagine he was just a regular boy who didn’t have any worries. All they had to do was figure out some new game to play or find a new tree to climb. Anything really.
He scraped off as much of the mud and dirt as possible and then climbed out of the water. His feet sank into the damn ground, and he stared at his toes as mud squished between them. How hard could it be to use the ground? Farmers did all the time. You only needed seeds, right?
Seeds. Like Rase knew where to get them. He didn’t even know where to find berries or nuts anymore. All of the bushes he’d known about had already been plucked dry eons ago. Worse, whenever he tried to follow squirrels or other animals to see where they got their food from, they would run away far too fast for him. Rase had tried to run after them, but running always made Rase lightheaded. His heart would beat too fast, and he just wasn’t able to move with any real speed. The animals always got away.
Rase rubbed the back of his neck and stomped over to his ruined clothes. As he shoved his arms through the holes that acted as sleeve openings, he made a decision. His pa was gambling to get them money or food. Rase didn’t know what that was, and it didn’t matter that Rase was the youngest member of their family. He was going to do whatever he could to help. One day, none of them would be hungry. Hopefully, one day soon.
6
Princess Vivian Rivera
Weeks had passed since news of the queen’s pregnancy was spread throughout Tenoch Proper. Throughout the long days and longer nights, Vivian avoided both the king and the queen. She did not wish to be around either of them. The queen was a miserable, expectant woman, and the king was miserable in general. At least Noll had been on his best behavior lately. That helped somewhat.
After the midday meal, Vivian ducked her tutors. She did not wish to learn more about the past. Honestly, she doubted that what they were teaching her was accurate. Dragons once ruled? Not kings and queens? It sounded like nonsense, pure and simple nonsense.
That the people needed to be ruled Vivian understood and accepted. People were like sheep. They needed a dog to guide them. Well, not a dog, of course, but rulers.
Honestly, Vivian knew very little about ruling. Her tutors would never go into details concerning that, and it was the topic Vivian was most interested in. After all, she was a princess. Shouldn’t she learn how to rule? One day, her father would no longer wear the crown. Someone else would have to lead in his stead.
Her father. Was he a good and just king? Some of the people grumbled that he wasn’t, and honestly, Vivian could not fault them for thinking so. Not that she would ever dare to tolerate listening to that and especially not from peasants. Then again, she supposed hearing the nobles grumble such things would be far worse. Not that she had. Nobles tended to recognize their status and strove to stay in line. The unhappy peasants were the ones most likely to act on their aggression. They were more like savages, wild like cavemen. They sometimes needed to be taught a lesson, and if they should need to learn it a second time, that was their own fault. A third time and maybe they couldn’t learn. Again, that would be on them.
Vivian darted down the hall. If she didn’t find a place to hide, a chance lingered that one of her tutors would spy her and drag her back to her lessons. Lately, Vivian had been avoiding them more and more. She felt as if she was desperately searching for something, although she had no notion as to what that might be.
From the chapel came Vicar Albert Leeson. At one time, the vicar might have been a tall man, but age had robbed him of his posture. The vicar had a stooped back and white hair. His bushy eyebrows stuck out like furry caterpillars. His nose was rather bumpy, but he always looked pleasantly enough when he smiled.
Not that Vivian had seen him smile in a decade. If she was searching for something, the vicar had abandoned something long ago, his happiness. He was disillusioned although over what Vivian couldn’t tell, not that she had given it much thought.
Regardless, he remained the perfect excuse to get out of her studies, and she rushed over to him, the azure skirt of her dress swirling around her legs.
“Oh, Vicar Leeson! Just the man I wished to see!” Vivian beamed at him as she took his arm. “Do you think we might go for a stroll?”
He appraised her critically and shook his head. “You are trying to get out of your studies.”
“Vicar Leeson, do you honestly think I would dare to do such a thing?” she asked, batting her eyelashes and giggling.
“Indeed I do,” he said in his deep voice.
She sighed. “You can teach me just as much as they can,” she pointed out. “Learning is learning.” Vivian tugged on his arm. “Yes?”
“I suppose,” he grumbled.
Grinning, she led the way for them to march out the doors. The sun shone down on them, and Vivian tilted her face upward toward the sky.
“It is so beautiful out,” she said. She released his arm and twirled around and around.
“For you,” the vicar said.
Vivian halted and stared at him, confusion twisting her lips into a frown. “I do not understand,” she said slowly. “The sun shines. The skies show no clouds, no hint of an approaching storm. Why wouldn’t everyone think today beautiful?”
“What of Dicun Lewis’s family?” the vicar asked.
“Oh, Dicun Lewis.” She rolled her eyes and waved her hand. “He basically killed himself. He had to know that speaking out against us would have consequences. You cannot speak out against the royals and expect nothing to happen. We have to defend ourselves.”
“Ah, yes, but who will defend the peasants from you?”
Vivian narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “They do not need to be defended against us,” she protested. “Am I glad that Dicun Lewis had to die? Of course not! But he left us no choice.”
“So you say.”
“I do say,” she said shortly, suddenly sad and upset that she had opted to walk with him.
She deliberately marched ahead of the vicar and plucked a beautiful white rose from the ground. After carefully removing the thorns, she placed the flower within her updo.
“How do I look?” she asked.
“Very much like your mother.”
Vivian stilled. Not many would speak to her concerning her mother. Her father, the king, often balked when Queen Rohesia was mentioned.
“I thought she had a different shade of blue eyes,” Vivian said timidly.
“She does but the same eye shape as you. I do not merely mean in appearance, my dear princess. Your mother shared your love of life.”
Vivian grinned and fanned out her skirt, curtseying on a whim. “I wish to know all about her,” she gushed. “Please.” She clasped her hands together. “Please tell me about her! You know Father won’t speak about her.”
“Love can change a person for the better or for the worse.”
“For the worse?” That confused Vivian. “Love should only ever bring out the best in a person, shouldn’t it?” she asked.
“One would think, but no, sadly that is not the case. Anything can be driven to the extreme. Even too much love is not a good thing. Remember, dear girl, that ev
en too much water can kill you.”
“Drowning,” she murmured. Vivian shivered. A warm breeze blew by, but she felt so very cold.
“Indeed. Your father loved and adored your mother.”
“Didn’t she love him back?”
“Oh, yes, child. Do not dare think differently. Their love is the kind that stories should be told about. You see, your father never should have married her in the first place. He should have married for the sake of Tenoch Proper. Instead, love motivated his choice, and your father was so very happy. He was a grand king. Tales could be relegated about his grand acts. Anything that the queen wished, he ensured to provide for her. As much as she loved him, she loved the people, and together, they ushered a wonderful age of peace and prosperity to all of Tenoch Proper.”
“But then Mother died,” Vivian said. She tried to swallow past a lump in her throat and coughed. A pang of guilt washed over her. She knew her father blamed her for her mother’s death.
“Yes, Queen Rohesia died. That day was a dark, tragic day throughout the land.”
“Father couldn’t handle her death.”
“Not at all, my dear child, not at all. He mourned her. He lost her, and so he lost himself. His love for her had consumed him, and without it, he became a shell of his former self. The kingdom has been suffering for it ever since.”
“Suffering?” Vivian shook her head. “That’s not true. We’re doing wonderfully. We are the strongest land in all the world.”
“We are the only land in all the world,” he told her.
“The island to the south is technically separate land,” she told him impatiently. “We control all of the islands. Every land mass is under our domain. How can you say that we are suffering? We are the most powerful ruling family there has ever been.”
“How long can that last? Others will rise up against you just as your family did with the Li family.”
“Do not speak to me about the Lis,” Vivian said, hostile. “They are all dead. Why bother to speak of them?”