by N M Zoltack
“It is true that there are not a lot of jobs available to women,” Edmund said, “but alchemy?”
“What have you against female alchemists? You act as if one has harmed you.” Dudley leaned against the counter, eyeing his brother curiously.
“No, no. I…” Edmund coughed away what he had been about to say: I know better than to tangle with the likes of them. “You do know that the dragons hunted down female alchemists and spared none of them?”
“Dragons. You believe that superstition.” Dudley rolled his eyes and made a noise of exasperation. “I would have thought that knights would be above such nonsense.”
“The dragons lived and flew above us. They kept man and beast alive and happy.”
“Alive and happy? What supposedly happened to those great winged beasts?” Dudley snapped.
Edmund bristled. “Not supposedly. Men are corrupt by nature.”
“Precisely. Men!”
“Men and women,” Edmund ground out, “especially female alchemists. They have poisoned and killed countless over the years. They are nothing more than evil, vile temptresses. They—”
“Because who would want to tempt the son of a shoemaker?” Dudley laughed. “A true temptress would go after Prince Noll, not the likes of me!”
Edmund opened and shut his mouth. His brother made a decent point.
Dudley sighed and rubbed his forehead. “I understand why you are worried because of other female alchemists. I’m not ignorant even if I wasn’t trained to be a knight.”
“I never thought—”
Dudley held his hand. “I know precisely what you think of me.”
Edmund held his tongue. Clearly nothing he would say would change his brother’s mind.
“Do not judge Tatum until you get to know her. She is far more than just an alchemist. She is good and kind, and you will never find a sweeter woman. You will love her if you only give her the chance.” Dudley grinned broadly. “Love her as a sister only, of course.”
“Of course,” Edmund echoed faintly.
“We have our whole lives figured out,” Dudley said eagerly. “Once we are married and have saved up enough, we are going to start an inn.”
“An inn.”
“Are you going to repeat everything I say?” Dudley laughed heartily, holding his flat stomach. “You know I never shared our parents love for crafting shoes, but I do enjoying selling. I figure we can start with an inn and then perhaps expand to have a tavern as well. Food, drink, and board. We can live at the very top of the inn, Tatum and I and our children.”
“It seems as if you do know what you want.”
“I have a plan.” Dudley tapped his temple. “Everything will work out. You’ll see.”
“I hope so for your sake,” Edmund said.
Dudley glowered at him.
Edmund held up his hands defensively. “I won’t speak any more about Tatum.”
“Good.”
Just then, a couple entered the shop, and Edmund stepped to the side and then departed.
The knight was going to have to see if he might be able to patrol near Tatum’s shop. Jurian would be more than willing to help. Maybe the other guards would likewise. It wasn’t spying, not truly. Edmund merely wanted the best for his brother. If that meant he should marry Tatum, then Edmund would give his blessing, but if the alchemist had blinded his brother for some nefarious scheme, Edmund would not stop until he uncovered her evil plan.
30
Prince Noll Rivera
Noll loved his puppy, but he was still upset over Bates. He did not think he would ever feel happy again. Yes, when the puppy nipped at his heels, and the two would go out for their walks, Noll would smile. He might even laugh. But he still was not the happiest. Not truly.
He had been walking his puppy when he realized that most everyone seemed to be gathering in the royal courtyard. So many people in fact that there was little room for Noll to push his way through toward the front. All of the people with their legs and feet and jostling made Noll nervous, and he scooped up his puppy. He hadn’t yet named the boy. He wasn’t sure he could think of a fitting name, and whenever he tried, all he thought about was Bates. It wouldn’t be right to call the puppy that, although Noll had considered it. He had lost the baby and gained the puppy in the same day.
Advisor Aldus Perez stood with the two princesses. Sabine stood off to the side. The king was not there.
Noll gulped. Most likely, they had looked for him. He probably should’ve been up there with them. Oh, well. He hoped he would not be in trouble for this. No one had told him that he would be required for anything. At least, he didn’t think anyone had. Maybe one of his sisters had, and he had forgotten. That had happened once or twice before. Actually, it had happened so many times before that Noll couldn’t count that high.
The prince shoved and pushed and apologized as he made his way to the front of the crowd. The quartet stood on a balcony that overlooked the courtyard. So many trees and flowers and bushes grew here. It was a lovely place. Noll normally loved it here, but at the moment, it felt too confining. Maybe because of all the people gathered around.
Princess Rosalynne stepped forward and held out her hands. The murmurings of the people around Noll all hushed and quieted. The puppy chose that moment to bark. Noll glanced around sheepishly.
“Thank you for coming,” the princess said. Her voice rang out loud enough for Noll to hear, but he doubted those in the back could. “As you have all been told already, it is very regrettable that the baby Bates has died. Already, he has been laid to rest.”
Already? Noll wanted to rage. He wanted to shout, to scream. Maybe if he ripped out his hair, he would feel better.
Without listening to another word, Noll darted forward and headed straight into the castle. He wasn’t looking for the balcony. He wasn’t dressed for it, and besides, he did not wish to hear what else Rosalynne had to say.
How could Bates have been buried and Noll not been there? Had his sisters attended? Had they thought Noll couldn’t handle the funeral? Noll could have! He wasn’t a child! Why did everyone treat him as if he were less than? He could handle everything! He was a prince!
Tears were streaming down his face. Noll could hardly see where he was walking. The puppy wiggled in his arms, and Noll allowed him to jump down. The puppy scrambled away.
Noll angrily wiped his tears away. He was near his father’s quarters, and he marched there straightaway. His fists were tight by his side. Rage like he had never felt burned within him. He did not like feeling this way, but it also soothed him in a way. Anger was a better feeling than sadness and depression.
The guards spied Noll. Perhaps they saw how upset he was because they did not make the prince open the door on this occasion. Instead, they opened the doors for him immediately.
Noll did not bother to acknowledge them outside of glowering at them so they would shut the doors behind him.
Once the loud clang rang out, Noll marched over to his father. He sat on his settee, eating grapes one at a time. The sight sickened Noll.
“When was Bates buried?” Noll demanded.
“Hours after he had died.”
“Why wasn’t I there?”
“Why would you have needed to be there?”
“Why not?” Noll asked, confused.
“I know you loved that baby, but he was not your brother. I was not his father. I never loved him.”
“That is your loss,” Noll said sharply. “Bates was everything good in the world. You stole him from me.”
The king started. “What did you say?”
“I can’t even say goodbye.”
“I can tell you where he is buried.”
Noll waited.
“One of the guards can.” The king waved his hand and plopped another grape into his mouth.
The prince gaped at his father, Noll’s mouth hanging open wide. “You didn’t even witness his burial? Did anyone? Or just the guard who did the deed for you?” N
oll had never been more furious.
“You have no place to judge me,” the king said coolly. “Not only am I your father, but I am your king. I did not wish for you to be there.”
“You wanted Bates to be buried alone. You thought that little of him. You always hated him. Why? Because he was good and you aren’t?”
The king glowered at him. “You had better watch your tongue.”
“Why? Because everyone who upsets you ends up dead? Are the Fates that much on your side? You were upset with Aldith, and she died. You hated her baby, and he died. Do you hate me too?”
“The Fates stole my love from me,” the king shouted.
“And they stole away the baby that I loved!” Noll shouted. “They did and you! You didn’t even let me say goodbye! If you had only seen the baby that day, maybe you would have held him and loved him like I did.”
“Maybe I did see him,” the king said.
“After he was dead does not count.”
The king said nothing.
“You think that because you wear the crown that you can control everyone. You act like you are the master of us all. We are not on strings. We are not your puppets.” Noll blinked back tears. He used to love to sneak into the town square and watch the puppet shows. He doubted that he would watch even one more show.
“I am the king,” his father said. “I know what is best for you. Look at how angry and hurt you are. Can you imagine how much pain you would have suffered if you witnessed the burial?”
“I don’t care,” Noll said stubbornly. “I should have made that decision, not you.”
“Would you like to know how small the coffin was?” the king demanded. He held out his hands to allude to a small size. “That big. That is it. For a baby. You would have been destroyed even more than you are now. I did you a favor.”
“The same favor the Fates did for you when they took away my mother.”
Noll knew he had gone too far. The king’s face turned as purple as the grapes he had been consuming. The king’s mouth opened, and out came a massive, mighty roar.
Before the king could order the guards to kill him, Noll threw open the doors and fled.
31
Princess Rosalynne Rivera
Rosalynne had spent the days and nights in turmoil. Her stomach would not settle, and she hardly ate. Aldus Perez tried to talk to her concerning the kingdom as her father had once again retreated into isolation. So much for the new queen helping to draw his father out from the darkness. Even her father seemed affected by Bates’ death, more than Rosalynne would have suspected or anticipated.
Sabine had been crowned as queen, and she wore her crown everywhere. Most likely, she wore it to bed. Rosalynne smirked at the queen who had just exited the royal library.
Rosalynne had been about to seek out Vivian. She had hoped that her sister might know how they could brighten Noll’s spirits. She ducked into the nearest room, which was a tea room, in the hopes that the queen would pass her by.
No such luck. A beaming Sabine entered the tea room a moment later.
“Rosalynne,” Sabine said warmly. “Just the princess I wanted to see.”
Rosalynne managed to refrain from rolling her eyes. She had a feeling the princess would have said the same to her sister had the queen cornered her instead.
It was quite clear that Sabine wished to get to know Rosalynne, but she did not share that same proposition. Frankly, she did not care to know Sabine in return. Rosalynne could not bring herself to trust the new queen, although Rosalynne could not be certain why she had such misgivings.
“I am afraid that I am busy at the moment,” Rosalynne said.
Sabine made a show of looking around in the otherwise empty tea room. “Busy?” she inquired without a hint of reproach in her voice.
“Yes. I was hoping to see my father,” Rosalynne said.
It was not entirely a lie. The princess was still upset about Bates’ death and even more so about her not being able to witness the burial. She did not know who all had been there, and she wished to ask him about it, depending on his mood. Plus, seeing her sister and Noll left her feeling an even tighter bond to her siblings, and that included the baby, even if he was dead and not related by blood.
“He is not up for seeing anyone at the moment,” the queen said.
“Even you?” Rosalynne asked sweetly. “I am sorry.”
Sabine pursed her lips. “Even me. He is so distraught over his son’s death.”
Rosalynne nodded. The queen had to know about the king not being the father. Sabine was testing her. Why? All the more reason not to trust the queen.
“All of the children are his sons and daughters,” Rosalynne said.
“Indeed as they are mine.” Sabine looked positively tragic.
“Yes. Well, then…” Rosalynne skirted toward the door.
The queen took a step toward her.
Just then, a guard appeared at the door. Tiberius, if Rosalynne recalled correctly.
“Princess Rosalynne, I have been looking all over for you. The advisor needs you.”
Rosalynne beamed at him, threw an apologetic look at the queen, and followed the guard into the hallway.
“What does Aldus need?” she asked, hoping that the queen was not trailing them.
“He needs your help to plan the tournament.”
With Bates dying, Rosalynne had entirely forgotten about the tournament. Her father had planned it to be held a month after his third marriage, and that day was quickly approaching.
“Lead the way,” she told the guard.
While she was secretly thrilled to be the one asked to assist in the planning over the new queen, Rosalynne could not understand why the king could not plan his own tourney himself. Would he never act as a king should? Would he forever shirk his duties and shrug them off onto her? While this was perhaps good in that she would know how to rule when the time would come, Rosalynne did not wish to be queen already. Not yet. She was not prepared enough. Honestly, she feared when she would become queen. Her father held the islands and all of Tenoch within Tenoch Proper because of his previous might and prowess. That might and prowess had long been gone. Would the peace he had fought for remain once he passed away? How could she display that same might and prowess herself?
32
Princess Vivian Rivera
Vivian felt lost. Rosalynne was always so busy now planning the tournament. Her brother had his puppy, Tabes. Noll had named the puppy that to honor Bates. It was endearing if a little odd for a puppy’s name.
Her siblings being so busy meant that Vivian found herself with a lot of time on her hands and no one to spend it with. She wandered the castle, trying to stay out of the way when she spied Albert Leeson.
That day must be a bright and sunny day because the vicar was standing taller than he had in eons. His back was always more hunched over when a storm was coming.
Beaming, she rushed over to him, nearly skipping. “Vicar Leeson!” she called. “How do you fare today?”
“Well enough, I suppose.” He pursed his lips at her, the wrinkles at the creases deepening.
“You spoke to me previously about my mother,” she said.
“I did.” He nodded slowly. “Do you wish to learn more?”
“Actually, I was hoping you could tell me about my father. My mother sounded so wonderful. Why did she love him? Not that I think my father is unlovable,” she hastened to add. “I’m just curious.”
“Curiosity is a noble pursuit,” he said slowly. His eyes narrowed slightly as if he were skeptical. “Why do you not ever wish to learn more from your tutors?”
It was true. Vivian could have sought out her tutors. Avoiding them had become the norm for her lately, and besides, she was still mourning Bates. That was the truth and not an excuse. Some of the reason why she so desperately wished to spend time with her siblings was because she missed the baby. At least she had stopped having those nightmares, although when she would wake from sleep now, sh
e would find herself always deeply troubled. She remembered none of her dreams, so this feeling was especially surprising and unwanted.
“I am more curious about my own family’s history,” Vivian said smoothly, “than I am in the history of the other noble families.”
“Ah, but there is an entire world beyond your family.”
“I know, but if I do not know and understand my own, how can I possibly understand another’s?” she countered.
The vicar sighed. “Very well.”
She grimaced. It depressed her to see the vicar so very disillusioned once more.
“Come. Let us talk in the chapel.”
Vivian did not often spend a lot of time within the chapel. It was a dark place even when the hundreds of candles inside were all lit. Erected in each of the four corners were the Four Fates: Life, Death, Peace, and Chaos. Life was that of a cherub, a baby angel with colossal wings wrapped around the body as if to make the baby wrapped in swaddling clothes. Death was a shadowy figure in a swirling mist, painted all black and gray and brown. Peace was a woman who Vivian always assumed to be a mother. The expression of her face was that of tender hopefulness. Chaos was a man with massive muscles and a warhammer at his side.
The vicar followed her gaze. “At any one point in time, one of the four Fates reigns supreme.”
“Who does now?” Vivian asked.
“Peace, but I fear Chaos will have his turn soon enough.”
“Peace? And not Death?” Vivian questioned, thinking of Bates.
“Even during times of peace, there can be death. All things that live will die at one point or another.”
“Some far sooner than they should,” she murmured.
“Truer words have never been spoken.” The vicar slowly made his way to the front of the church, between the corners of Life and Death. “Have a seat, my child.”
Vivian opted not to accept his request and stood beside him at the altar where he would make sacrifices. Sometimes, the Fates would talk to him. Vivian never had learned what exactly would be sacrificed, and she was not certain that she wished to know.