by Effie Calvin
“What are you doing?” Adale sputtered.
“I am accepting this challenge,” said Esofi, as though it was obvious or even logical.
“Yourself?” For the first time, Theodoar looked uncertain. “Surely you wish to select a champion. Or…at least…a different dress.”
“Nonsense,” said Esofi. “Best to get this over and done with now. Are there any other rules I ought to know about?”
Theodoar seemed uncomfortable, and Adale wondered if his common sense had finally caught up with him. “Only to fight with honor, Princess.”
“Then I am ready,” said Esofi.
“You must have a weapon,” Theodoar began, but before he had even finished the sentence, there was a flash like lightning and a cloud of sparkling rose-pink mist crackled to life around Esofi’s hands.
Cries of shock and amazement echoed around the lawn, but Esofi seemed not to hear them. She was already striding forward to meet Theodoar at the middle of the lawn, the pink light trailing up her arms.
Theodoar edged back as if rethinking his challenge, but his friends called out encouragements. Whether this was because they honestly believed he had a chance or simply because they wanted to see a good fight was unclear to Adale.
Theodoar seemed to be cheered by the support, though. He unsheathed his blade and took his position.
“Is this allowed?” murmured Lethea in Adale’s ear.
“I didn’t know she had magic,” Adale whispered back. She realized that she was still clutching at the parasol Esofi had handed her. “Did you know she had magic?”
“I don’t know anything,” said Lethea with refreshing honesty. “I just turn up for meals.”
“Of course she has magic, you fools,” hissed Lexandrie. “Did you truly believe she was just a fat little rosebud?”
“Maybe,” said Adale. Lexandrie made a noise of disgust and gave her a withering glare.
Movement caught Adale’s eye, and she realized that the light in Esofi’s right hand was shaping itself into a sword, glittering and translucent. Theodoar looked relieved at the sight; it was clear he believed that Esofi would engage him normally—or, at least, as normally as one could with a sword made of what seemed to be pure magic.
The match began. Theodoar moved in to strike, but Esofi brought her blade up to meet his, parrying the blow. Adale could not see her footwork through her long, elaborate skirts, but she suspected from her stance alone that Esofi had never actually been trained with a sword.
But perhaps she didn’t need to be.
Theodoar pulled his sword arm in and stepped back, only to move in again with a complicated three-step attack that Adale had seen him use to best many opponents in the past. Esofi looked surprised, and for a moment, Adale believed the match would be over before it began.
And that was when Esofi swung with her left hand, sending a wave of sparkling light directly at Theodoar. It caught him in the chest and sent him staggering backward. The spectators behind him scattered, but Theodoar regained his footing and moved into a defensive position.
“That’s not f—” Theodoar managed to say before another blast of magic hit him. This time, he was not so lucky. The magic knocked him flat on his back.
“Not fair!?”
Adale had no idea that the princess could shout like that. It was so at odds with her soft appearance. Esofi stormed toward him, translucent sword still glimmering in her hand, beads of sweat falling from her forehead and distorting her makeup. “You spoiled, selfish, pathetic child! You neglect your lands and your people in order to drink away your inheritance and believe you have the right to face me in combat? I slew three dragons by my own hand during the journey to Birsgen, and I would have killed more if they hadn’t learned to fear my scent!”
Another man might have surrendered there, but Theodoar was nothing if not stubborn. In a single lightning-quick movement, he managed to leap back to his feet, sword still in hand. Adale was relieved to see that the magic did not seem to have burned his skin in any way, and Theodoar merely looked as though he had faced an inordinately strong wind.
Theodoar’s feet moved automatically into a defensive stance, leaving Adale to wonder how he intended to protect against another wall of pure force. He seemed to reach the same conclusion, though, and stepped forward again to strike.
This time, Esofi brought both hands up in front of herself, palms flat. Before the blade could touch her, a wall of pink light sprang up in front of it. There was a sound like metal striking glass, but Theodoar did not step back the way Adale had been anticipating. Instead he tried the move again, striking at the barrier in the exact same way as though he hoped to shatter it. There was no result.
Not to be dissuaded just yet, Theodoar went to strike a third time. Esofi’s hands shifted again, and now Adale could see that there did seem to be a sort of technique to her movements, though it was nothing like the light, rapid art of swordplay. Esofi moved as she breathed, with slow and deliberate gestures that seemed to come from deep within her chest.
As Theodoar’s blade came down, the barrier vanished as though it had never been. But before the blade could pierce her, Esofi brought one leg back so that she was almost-kneeling on the grass. At the same time, she drew her right hand upward. Her magical blade intercepted Theodoar’s metal one, and there was a sound like a pair of shears cutting through empty air. As one, the spectators gasped.
Half of Theodoar’s blade now lay on the fresh morning grass. The other half was still clutched in his hand.
“Do you yield?” asked Esofi.
It seemed a foregone conclusion, but to Adale’s great surprise, Theodoar said nothing. Adale wondered if he truly meant to continue the challenge with half a blade. Esofi seemed to have come to the same realization and, before Theodoar could strike again, hit him in the face with another wave of force.
Theodoar hit the grass again on his back, and the broken hilt fell from his hand. He reached for it, but this time, Esofi followed him. Esofi gave a strong kick, and her long skirts prevented Adale from seeing precisely what happened, but Theodoar gave a yelp of pain in response. A moment later, Adale saw him draw his hand close to the safety of his body.
“I didn’t mean—” began Theodoar, trying to prop himself up on his elbows. Esofi whipped her arm around, and he found himself staring down at the end of her magical blade.
“I did not order you to speak!” she declared in a voice that reminded Adale of her own parents. She lifted her head to glare at the crowd that had gathered to watch. “There! Has this waste of my time satisfied you? Am I worthy to be your queen and save your country yet, or is there another silly test I must first pass? Tell me quickly!”
Nobody spoke, though a few of the young nobles who had been fortunate enough to get positions near the back of the crowd took the opportunity to sneak away.
“No,” said Theodoar at long last. “There is…there is nothing else.”
Adale decided to try to reason with Esofi, for Theodoar’s sake. After waiting a moment to make sure Esofi wasn’t going to start swinging again, Adale moved forward.
“Eso—Princess, I swear, I didn’t mean for this to—” Adale began.
“And you!” Esofi looked Adale in the face for the first time, and it was only then that Adale realized that there were tears brimming in her eyes.
“Esofi—”
“No,” said Esofi, shaking her head. “I believed…but you must think me quite foolish.”
“That’s not true!” Adale protested vehemently. “I swear by the deity of your choosing that I knew nothing of this!”
“Do not do me the dishonor of lying to me.” Esofi’s voice was suddenly very soft. Her ladies gathered around her like a living shield, and the magic vanished from her hands, leaving behind no trace that it had ever been there. “Your mastery of deceit is so poor. How silly of me to be blind to it until now.”
“Esofi, I…” There was so, so much that Adale wished to say, but she barely knew how to begin. “I did not want thi
s.”
“There seem to be many things you do not want, Crown Princess,” retorted Esofi bitterly. “Unfortunately, they have been granted to you regardless.”
“Do not say that,” pleaded Adale. “Please—walk with me and I will explain. I only need time to find the words—”
Esofi shook her head. “No. No more words. I understand more than you could ever explain.”
“Are you all quite finished?” demanded a harsh voice. Adale spun around to discover her own mother standing there, attended by her own ladies and a selection of the castle guards. Her face was flushed scarlet and her braid was half-unpinned. It looked as though she’d run directly from the throne room to the lawn, except that was impossible because Queen Saski did not run.
“Theodoar of Leikr,” said Queen Saski, looking more displeased than Adale had seen her in living memory. “On your feet.”
Theodoar scrambled upward, and a few of his braver friends stepped forward to help him. When he was properly upright, Queen Saski spoke again.
“I am struggling to think of a reason why I should not have you imprisoned for the rest of your life. Certainly no one would miss you.”
“Your Majesty—” he began.
“But then, perhaps that would be too lenient,” Queen Saski continued as though he had not spoken. “After all, you are so fond of idleness. I do not think the dungeons would be too dissimilar from the life to which you are accustomed. Perhaps instead I will send you to join the defense of the north, so your existence might benefit someone, even if it is only a hungry dragon.”
Theodoar seemed to realize there was nothing he could possibly say to quell her rage.
“I have tolerated you and your shameful, idle peers in my castle in the hopes that your parents might be able to better tend to their lands without you getting underfoot, but now I see that I have merely been rewarding them for their reprehensible parenting,” continued Queen Saski. “You will go to your rooms immediately and begin your preparations for the journey home. A carriage will be readied for you by tonight. If I see your face again before my dying day, I will have you thrown into the dungeons for treason. Am I understood?”
Theodoar bowed his head. “Yes, Your Majesty.” He cast one last sorrowful look at Adale and then began the walk back to the castle.
“Good.” Saski turned her attention to Esofi. “Princess.”
“My sincerest apologies, Your Majesty,” said Esofi, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief embroidered in roses. “If you will grant me but a moment to compose myself.” One of her ladies began pulling brushes and face powder from her satchel and set to work repairing Esofi’s makeup.
“The rest of you, find your entertainment elsewhere!” ordered Queen Saski, waving a dismissive arm at the spectators that remained. “Or I will send you home to your parents as well!”
The crowd dispersed in record time, leaving only Adale, Lethea, Esofi, and her ladies standing on the grass.
“Now then,” said Queen Saski. “I should like to understand precisely what happened here, if you do not mind.”
“I mean no disrespect, but there is little to explain, Your Majesty,” said Esofi, who looked considerably better than she had a moment ago, though not nearly as picturesque as she’d been when Adale had first encountered her at breakfast. “It was a foolish endeavor, and of no consequence.”
Queen Saski seemed to hesitate. “Of no consequence?” Was that hope in her voice? Adale was not entirely certain.
“Of course,” said Esofi. “I allowed myself to be drawn into a childish argument, nothing more. I hope you can forgive my misconduct and for drawing you away from your petitioners.”
“Of course.” Queen Saski spoke very slowly. Adale marveled that her mother appeared to have lost her footing, metaphorically speaking. If only Adale had paid more attention to her tutors as they’d explained the political situation between Ieflaria and Rhodia. Maybe then she’d have some idea of what was going on.
Esofi nodded in satisfaction. “Good. Then let us put the incident out of our minds. There is still so much to accomplish, after all. But I fear I am no longer presentable.” Esofi patted her ruined curls. “If you will excuse me? I should not like to appear at my own betrothal looking as I do.”
Queen Saski granted her a nod, and Esofi immediately departed, leaving Adale there alone with only Lethea for protection. Once the princess was gone, the last thin traces of pleasantness vanished from Queen Saski’s face.
“Are you simple?” her mother hissed at her. “What were you thinking? I should cast you out with Theodoar! You could have destroyed the marriage negotiations! I realize you care nothing for that, but I’d think the lives of your friends would at least hold some value to you!”
“I had no idea that this was Theodoar’s plan!” Adale protested weakly. “And nobody knew that the princess had magic!”
Queen Saski pressed a hand to her forehead and spoke in a tone of disbelief. “You didn’t know she had—? Why do you think she is here, you fool?”
“To marry someone!” cried Adale. She realized she was still clutching Esofi’s parasol, the soft lace pressing patterns into her palms. “To marry me!”
“Have you retained a single word your tutors have said to you?” demanded Queen Saski, continuing as though Adale had not spoken. “The royal family of Rhodia boasts the most gifted mages on the continent of Thiyra! You are lucky she has far greater self-restraint than you do or Theodoar might be dead! Our country will be utterly consumed without her aid, and you have insulted her so gravely that I would not half blame her for returning home immediately! What do you have to say for yourself, Adale?”
Adale looked away from her mother and managed to catch one last glimpse of Esofi’s retreating back before she vanished inside the castle walls.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
Chapter Three
ESOFI
Once she had made it back to the safety of her rooms, Esofi washed off her makeup until her face was bright and pink. Then she removed her hairpins, allowing her curls to fall in a messy cloud. Finally, she removed her dress, loosened the lacing on her corset, and climbed into bed.
The use of her magic should not have been enough to drain her, but she felt exhausted regardless. It had been this way ever since they had come into Ieflaria—the magic seemed reluctant to come to her now, and when it arrived, it was weak and awkward and slow to respond to her commands. Lexandrie had noticed it as well, and so had Henris and the battlemages. At the time, Esofi had hoped it was merely a side effect of being on the road for so many months, but now she knew better. Ieflaria had offended Talcia so greatly that it was not simply devoid of her magic; it repelled it.
And beneath her physical exhaustion was a deep, persistent ache in her heart.
Stupid, she admonished herself. Did you think she cared anything for you? This is a political arrangement. Nothing more.
Still, she had hoped…
Her thoughts went back to Albion. Theirs would have been a marriage of convenience too, but Esofi had always believed that they would quickly come to regard each other with a genuine and maybe even passionate love.
Maybe. But then, maybe not. Perhaps I was lying to myself about that, too.
Esofi pressed her face into her pillow. Was she really so repugnant that Adale would arrange a duel in order to delay their wedding? Even if that nobleman had managed to defeat her, surely they hadn’t been foolish enough to believe that Their Majesties would simply accept it and throw away almost a decade and a half of careful planning?
Adale must have been truly desperate to even try.
Tears sprung to Esofi’s eyes, which only made her angrier with herself, which in turn led to more tears. Adale hadn’t even given her a chance! They’d spoken only twice, and yet the crown princess had already decided that she would rather spend her life as an untitled vagrant than marry Esofi!
“I’m not as bad as that,” whispered Esofi to herself. “Someone would have told me if
I was.” Probably. Her sisters, certainly. Or her mother. They had never hesitated to point out her flaws. Surely, someone would have mentioned it by now if she was unbearable, even if it was only in passing.
Her pillow was wet, and so Esofi flipped it over, savoring the coolness on her cheek. She began to hum a common Rhodian hymn to Talcia, lazy fingertips tracing the designs woven into her blankets.
“I do not need her love,” Esofi reminded herself. “I already have so much.” And that was true. She had her own waiting ladies, who had yet to fail her in even the smallest task. She had the promise from Their Majesties that had been added to the marriage contract just yesterday. And, most importantly, she had the blessing of her goddess.
Esofi wondered if Adale had reviewed the contract and seen the addition yet but then reminded herself that she did not care. To be honest, Adale probably did not care much either. Esofi was still not completely convinced that Adale would even be at the signing that afternoon. Even though Theodoar had lost the duel, there was still a chance that Adale would try to make her escape before her freedom was signed away forever.
Esofi tried to imagine Adale hastily fitting everything she owned into a few small traveling bags, stopping now and again to check the hour. It was depressingly easy to visualize, and Esofi hoped that this was simply a result of her overactive imagination and not a true vision from Talcia. But then, Talcia had never sent her a vision before, and Esofi doubted that she would begin now.
And so what if it was true? So what if Adale was packing her things as even now Esofi lay there feeling sorry for herself? Let her leave! Esofi wouldn’t even ask Their Majesties to send guards after their wayward daughter. She would simply accept the hand of whatever nobleman or woman was next in line and never think upon this day again.
“I do not care,” Esofi whispered to herself. “I’ve no reason to care.”
Esofi closed her eyes and eventually drifted off to sleep. She had a brief, absurd dream that her parents arrived from Rhodia and demanded to know who she would be marrying. When she told them that she was not entirely certain yet, they suggested she give up her title and become a miller instead, a prospect which upset Esofi so badly that she awoke with a start.