Singer's Sword

by Cassandra Boyson

  She turned to find his half-smile upon her. It was clear he understood that her feelings for him had re-awoken. It was also a little frustrating. But they’d only just begun to change. Peering back into those eyes that had for so long been irresistible to her, she said, “I don’t know if it is wise. I don’t know that we would be good together… if I—”

  “We would be tremendous together. Think of all we could do for the kingdom! Not to mention… I believe I could make you happy.” His voice softened as he continued. “I remember how difficult things used to be for you. And then you worked so hard to help restore Kierelia. I just want to see you cared for, for a change.”

  Her head spun as her mind raced. Her walls were coming down and exhilaration flooded her. For a moment, curiosity about what Fredrick would think crossed her mind. She’d missed his company since leaving Bashtii, but though they had parted good friends, he had not kept his promise to write. Meanwhile, Armond, king of the kingdom she loved, the man she’d grown up adoring, offered her his affection and the promise of creating a bright future for their people. In the end… did she still love him?

  “Yes,” she said, “I will marry you.”

  25

  The castle fairly pulsated when the news was announced the following day. There was to be an engagement celebration that very evening. Hazel’s maid fretted over selecting the perfect gown for the occasion. After all, Hazel would be presented as future queen of Kierelia. Now and then, she found herself gripped with fear at the idea. Somehow, the part about becoming queen had not rightly sunk in when she’d accepted the proposal. At the moment she’d consented, she’d thought of him alone.

  She shook her head, recalling a younger version of herself in all the years before the dragon attack. That girl would never have believed she’d find herself here, engaged to a man who would make her queen… engaged to Armond. It was utterly improbable.

  When the hour of the celebration dawned, she was astonished to find the feasting room decked even more elaborately than for the coronation. The room roared with applause as she walked to her seat. When she drew beside Armond, who looked on her with pride, all shouted, “Hail Lady Hazel, future queen of Kierelia!”

  It was all so much that she could scarcely eat when they were served. Her heart swelled. Never had she felt so accepted, so wanted. And it was not only by the people but by her future husband. Truly, the Great Entity had seen fit to favor. She glanced into the rafters to offer up her thanks.

  Near the end of the feast, a servant came to whisper something to Armond. He nodded and then turned to her with ashen face. “It… seems the people are requesting you sing.”

  Her stomach sank. “You know very well I cannot.”

  A chant of, “Sing, sing, sing, sing!” rose from the assemblage.

  Armond moved to speak for her, but she leaped to her own feet. If they were to be disappointed, she must do it herself. It was important she set this standard now: that she could not be expected to perform for them. They must forget she had ever loved to sing.

  The room fell silent as they awaited her performance.

  She cleared her throat and squared her shoulders. “I thank you all for the honor of wishing to hear a song.”

  They applauded.

  She swallowed.

  “I regret to announce that… my throat has been poorly of late. It is impossible for me to perform.”

  The room did not conceal its disappointment. She and Armond exchanged a look. When she was seated again, he leaned in with, “They will learn to accept it.”

  But the following day, Dorian met her in her room with, “I heard what happened.”

  “Well, you were more expectant of this engagement than I was, as I recall.”

  He shook his head. “Yes, congratulations. But I meant about the people wishing you to sing.”

  “Oh… well, they will learn to accept it,” she said, mimicking Armond.

  He lifted a brow. “What about the training regime you and Blythe discussed?”

  “Did you hear about the chairs that moved on their own?”

  He laughed. “That was you?”

  “I was in the old ‘torture chamber’ and still it reached them. How can I train without taking the risk of hurting someone?”

  “All you must do is take a horse far into the forest.”

  She eyed him. “Everything is so close to perfect just now. I wish I did not have this nonsensical gift to worry over. I’m terrified I’ll ruin it all.”

  He patted her shoulder. “You’ll do the right thing at the right time, Hazel. Train and get comfortable with yourself again. In the meantime, hail Lady Hazel, future queen of Kierelia.”

  Smirking unhappily, she shrugged his hand off. Even so, she took his suggestion to heart. Every chance she got, she sneaked away to a far-off corner of the forest. There, she sang… and prayed she did not harm any animals. As it happened, they were rather drawn to her voice. Often, she caught a family of deer venture near her clearing, the squirrels did not scatter and the birds sang with her. Never did she do them harm for rarely did her gift act out so erratically as in past. In fact, she found it perfectly natural to control. When she felt the power swelling, she sang more quietly, as if soothing it into submission. On the rare occasion she tried to lift something, it rose and fell according to the pattern of her voice. She found new delight in what she could do… until she invited Dorian along to witness her progress. In that instance, she cast his body flat upon the ground.

  “Ouch,” he murmured where he lay.

  She flew to his side. “Are you all right?”

  He nodded. “Right enough. But that’s some left swing your voice has got there.”

  She pulled him to a sitting position and plopped down beside him. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. I’ve been in total control until now.”

  “Maybe I’m bad luck.”

  “I think I’m nervous.”

  “Because of me?”

  “Yes. People listening to me sing always makes me anxious. When alone and in the peace of this glorious wood, focus is effortless.” She turned to him. “You’re going to have to come along with me every time.”

  “You want to use me?” He patted a hand to his heart.

  “I need someone to observe as I train.”

  “And what happens when you grow accustomed to singing before me?”

  She chewed her lip. “I’ll have to find someone else to practice with.”

  “Armond?”

  She shook her head.

  “And why not?”

  “I don’t know, I… think I’m embarrassed about what I did to him the first time.”

  “But he is your betrothed, you ninny. I am certain he can bear it. And after all, you said you sang before that King Fredrick.”

  She sighed. “You are right. Armond doesn’t even know I’ve been training.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Don’t look at me like that. I just wanted to try it on my own for a while to see how it went. He doesn’t think I should be training anyway.”

  Dorian lifted a brow.

  “He’s afraid someone will catch me and the people will turn against me.”

  “I don’t think there’s a thing you could do to turn these people against you. And Armond must not understand how much all that warbling means to you if he’s so willing to see you give it up... Sort of rubs me wrong, Hazel.”

  “Oh, don’t be cross with him. He just wants to see me cared for.”

  Laying a hand on her shoulder, he leaned in close with, “Then I dare you to let him.”

  26

  Hazel found Armond leaning on the rail of his study balcony. She relished how the sun set his dark hair to glistening, how his thick brows drew together as he chewed at his lower lip. True, he appeared concerned about something. But, as always, it only aided his looks.

  “Armond,” she said from the threshold.

  He spun about and immediately his face relaxed. “Hazel,” he said a
s if the mere sound of her name satisfied him. “Where have you been?”

  “The forest.”

  He took her hand to draw her beside him. “You’ve been spending a lot of time there.”

  She stole a long breath. This was her moment. “Yes… I’ve been meaning to tell you about where I am with my gift.”

  To her astonishment, he laughed. “You know, I was just recollecting that evening you shot me into the rafters. I cannot tell you how petrified I was, but I have to say it is somewhat humorous to look back on. I guess you could say you swept me off my feet.”

  She tried to laugh with him. “Is… that what you were thinking about before I joined you?”

  “I suppose it was.”

  She swallowed, recalling his somber attitude before she’d alerted him to her presence. “What about it, specifically?”

  “I was just thinking about how, all this time, I’d thought the prophet had sent you to the tribes to be healed of it.”

  “I didn’t exactly need healing.”

  He raised a brow at her. “You know that’s not quite what I meant…”

  “Yes,” she relented, releasing a breath. “It is my own discomfort that makes me touchy.”

  He took a step nearer and leaned on the rail. “Was there something you wanted to speak about?”

  Her mouth opened in hesitation. “Er, no,” she lied, disappointing herself. “I just wanted to see you.”

  His grin grew impossibly large, utterly knocking the breath from her. That was the smile of the old Armond, the carefree lad of her youth. But he grew suddenly somber as he said, “As for me, there is a small issue I meant to discuss with you.”

  Swallowing, she found she could not look at him. Had he found her out after all? How she kicked herself for not having confessed but moments before.

  “It seems Dianna has not left her rooms once since she was originally introduced to them.”

  Hazel met his eyes with a mixture of relief and exasperation. “Why… that is preposterous! I was aware she hadn’t left them before my trip to Bashtii, but I expected her to have emerged by now.”

  “The servant who cares for her insists it is true. Dianna has materials brought to her and continues to replenish the clothing supply of the whole land. But unless Stacia or Rebecca visit her, she sees no one. Hazel… could it be she is scarred from the destruction of all she ever knew?”

  “Maybe partly… But I believe I have an idea of what this is really about.” She patted his hand. “Leave it to me.”

  * * *

  Hazel hesitated before Dianna’s quarters. It wasn’t a surprise visit, as she’d made certain the lady was forewarned. But though Hazel had so readily volunteered herself for the task, she could not help recalling the years of hostility—how effortlessly Dianna could make her feel like a shameful child. She’d always known how to pick at what would hurt most.

  Straightening her shoulders, Hazel forced herself to knock.

  “Who is it?”

  A peculiar question considering Dianna ought to be fully aware. Then again, Hazel supposed she wanted no surprises.

  “Lady Hazel.”

  A sigh sounded from the other side. “Come in if you must.”

  Hazel paused within the doorway. The room was larger than Armond’s and exquisitely decorated in creme and pink. Noting how small the single window was, it was clear the bright hues were necessary. Somehow, it felt like sunshine.

  It was also clear that Dianna had somehow bribed the architect into designing the room specifically to her needs. A small window meant there was less chance of being seen. The room was large and bright to make it pleasant despite the lack of sunlight and fresh air. But witnessing such forethought only increased Hazel’s concern. This life of reclusiveness was premeditated. Dianna even possessed a small dining area complete with a larder of fruitcakes and biscuits.

  “This is a… comfortable space,” Hazel said as she approached.

  “I find it so,” Dianna replied, not looking up from her sewing.

  “I believe you designed the dress I wore to the Bashtiian ball.”

  Dianna’s eyes flickered up and she gestured to the chair across from her. “You loved it.”

  “Er, well, yes. It was exquisite work.”

  “I have exquisite taste.”

  Hazel sat down. “What are you working on now?”

  “Hazel?”

  “Yes?”

  “I presume you’ve come to see me for a purpose. It’s not as if we’re old friends. I’d appreciate it if you’d get straight to the point.”

  “You’re not leaving your rooms.”

  “Indeed.”

  “But… can’t you see it isn’t healthy?”

  “As if I require wisdom from you, oh, Lady Fortune, future queen of Kierelia.”

  So, she had heard. That could make this conversation thorny. But Hazel had promised Armond she would handle things and she was a woman of her word.

  “Dianna, do you really intend to remain sewing up gowns in this room the rest of your life?”

  “No. I design men’s garments as well. And I’ve been working on draperies and tapestries.”

  “I mean it. Surely, there are more important things than your vanity.”

  “Like what?”

  Hazel groped for something. She didn’t know what the woman’s values were apart from making people miserable. “Helping people is surprisingly satisfying.”

  “I’m clothing the whole kingdom from this room. Is that not enough for you?”

  Hazel leaped from her chair and knelt before the girl, forcing her to look down at her. “Isn’t there something more you require of life than this.”

  “You are literally the saddest, sorriest little orphan who ever attained a royal crown. Really, I cannot imagine how Armond can desire such a desperate little nobody for a wife.”

  Hazel released her breath. This was a defense mechanism, she knew. She’d heard stories of her treating Stacia and Rebecca similarly whenever they tried to get her out of her chambers. Then again, Dianna had always treated Hazel this way. And why? Stacia had once told her Dianna was jealous because Armond had stood up for her. But surely that could not stimulate such loathing. “Why do you hate me, Dianna?”

  The girl thrust her sewing aside. “No matter what I do to you, you refuse to break. It is exasperating. What is wrong with you?”

  Hazel blinked. “You want me to break?”

  “I want you to not be so composed, so benevolent, so…. ach, I don’t know! So dignified. Really, I don’t see how you could have gotten this way with parents such as yours.”

  “You… think I’m dignified? And that’s a problem?”

  “Of course. How would you like to grow up alongside this graceful little goody-goody, efficient at everything she lays her hands to? You’re even better at needlework than I am and it is my pride and joy! Not to mention, how you’ve earned Armond’s attention… along with everyone else’s. Even Lady Nora used to go on and on about you to my mother. Truly, you are insufferable. I don’t see what you have to be so very poised about.”

  Hazel stared up at the woman. Surely, she’d never had the slightest clue that the Dianna who’d grown up hating her thought anything so complimentary. She’d always assumed Dianna saw her as an aberration. All the while she’d been—dare she venture—envious? “But you were always shaming me…”

  Dianna appeared as if she’d only just realized all she’d divulged. “Because you were a joke… are—are a joke.”

  Hazel almost chuckled. “You know, you’re the only girl I know who can pull off a bald head. I’m not trying to rub it in, but, hair or no, you’re a lovely girl. I think, perhaps with a headscarf, you could still win any man you wished… And then maybe you could bring yourself to move on with your life.”

  “Are you jesting? How many men do you think go about in search of bald women?”

  “Well, none. But that doesn’t mean you can’t find one who thinks you’re beautiful despi
te it.”

  “That is doubtful.”

  Hazel had to admit she was probably right. It would take a certain kind of man to see past it. And Dianna wasn’t exactly a woman of character herself. In fact, she was something of a royal pain. “This dignity you speak of, Dianna... I think it's called beauty on the inside. It is good character—humility, kindness, steadfastness. I think as we get older, we'll find it far more precious than that on the outside.”

  Dianna stared back at her. “I think you're full of it, Lady Hazel.”

  Hazel laughed openly. “Perhaps I am.”

  Silence commenced as the two sat in thought.

  At last, Dianna ventured, “How is Armond?”

  “He seems happy enough to me.”

  “I’ve been hearing things about the way he rules… that perhaps it doesn’t come as naturally as it should, that he’s… not the brightest?”

  Hazel quirked her head to the side. “It was overwhelming to lose everything. He’s got to get his bearings.”

  She nodded. “I hope he finds them then.”

  “He will,” Hazel assured, drawing to her feet. “Why don’t you come with me to see him?”

  “Why do you think I’d be willing to see him, of all people?”

  “Because you’re worried about him. And he could use clever friends.” Despite herself, Hazel had to admit Dianna had always been quite bright.

  “But if I don’t want anyone to see me, he’s the last…”

  “He’s engaged, Dianna. It’s not as if he can reject you now.”

  “And you said you didn’t want to rub it in.”

  “Suppose you start taking midnight strolls in the garden? You’d be surprised how beautifully it has regrown.”

  “If ever I’m despairing enough to take advice from you, I’ll do just that.”

  Hazel laughed and had nearly exited the room when Dianna called, “Tell Armond to remember what King Zephuel always said… about how a king ought not to rule the people, but serve and, when necessary, govern.”

  Hazel nodded. She had to admit it was a sound reminder. She’d never have expected it to make a home in Dianna’s heart, but it warmed her to think there was perhaps something of beauty inside the lady after all. “I’ll tell him.”