The Queen of Ieflaria

by Effie Calvin

  The sun was low in the sky, casting shades of gold across the courtyard. Esofi sat upright in her bed and saw that Lexandrie was sitting in the soft chair across from her, reading a book.

  “I have missed the betrothal,” said Esofi. It was not a question. “Why did you not wake me?”

  Lexandrie glanced up for the briefest of moments. “You needed the rest, and the Ieflarians needed to be shown they could not insult you without consequence.”

  Esofi’s feet found the carpet. “Had you asked, I would not have—”

  “And that is why I did not ask,” retorted Lexandrie. “You are the future queen of Ieflaria. Try to have some pride.”

  “Lexandrie, the marriage contract!”

  “It will keep until tomorrow!” Lexandrie snapped her book shut and stood. “Don’t you dare act as though I’ve spoiled your plans. You know Their Majesties are desperate to have you as their daughter-in-law! You could skip through the streets of Birsgen with a teapot on your head and they would still let you marry Adale! Why do you refuse to take advantage of your position?”

  “Because I already have everything I require,” said Esofi. “And demanding favors for the sake of favors will endear me to nobody.”

  “I’m not talking about favors! I’m talking about respect!”

  “I would say I already earned their respect this morning!”

  Lexandrie didn’t seem to know how to respond to that. “Well, you certainly took your time of it,” she muttered at last, but most of the fire had gone from her. “You’ll take dinner in your rooms tonight. Let them wonder a bit more. Tomorrow, you may do as you like.”

  “Very well,” said Esofi, who had not been looking forward to being gawked at during the evening meal in any case. “Has there been any news?”

  “Nothing of importance, I think.” Lexandrie shrugged. “But Lisette has been about. She could tell you better than I.”

  “You let Lisette leave?” cried Esofi, suddenly feeling quite sick.

  “As though I could have stopped her!” Lexandrie rolled her eyes. “Worry not, she has killed nobody, or if she has, they have not yet discovered the body.”

  “I would like to speak with her,” said Esofi. “Immediately, if at all possible.”

  Lexandrie sighed as though Esofi had given a near-impossible order but left the room without an argument. Esofi went to the wardrobe and began to search for her dressing gown. With the setting of the sun, the castle had grown significantly colder.

  By the time Lisette arrived, Esofi was wrapped in her robe and sitting in the chair that Lexandrie had vacated. Lisette regarded Esofi rather coolly.

  “What are they saying?” asked Esofi.

  Lisette crossed her arms. “The foolish ones wonder if you will return to Rhodia. Others ask if you will marry one of the children of the king’s brother instead of the crown princess. I think they deserve to wonder.”

  That sounded very much like what Lexandrie had said, and Esofi wondered if they’d discussed it at some point. “Is the crown princess still in the castle?”

  “Yes,” said Lisette. “After all that trouble, she chose not to flee, though she certainly had her chance. Most unusual.”

  “Mm,” said Esofi. “What do you make of her?”

  Lisette shrugged. “She is a child, just as her companions are. But at least she will not get in your way.”

  “She did not ever expect to rule,” noted Esofi. “If Albion had lived, she could have dedicated her entire life to hunting and drinking. I think she resents the sudden responsibility.”

  “Perhaps,” said Lisette, glancing away. “But that does not excuse her behavior.”

  “No,” agreed Esofi. “It does not.”

  About an hour later, servants arrived with food. Esofi and her ladies had their meal in the sitting room, something that Esofi quickly realized she enjoyed. It would not be appropriate to never appear for a meal again, but right then, she needed to be away from prying eyes and it would be good to know she had the option again in the future, should she need it.

  The servants took the dishes and small collapsible tables away when the meal was finished, and Esofi contemplated simply going back to bed. Her magic was restored, but she still felt oddly empty. Perhaps attending the evening service would make her feel better. But that would require her to dress again…

  Esofi glanced around at her ladies. Lexandrie was reading again, though her eyes seemed a bit glazed over, and Mireille was picking at her embroidery. The mood in the room was warm and lazy, and Esofi knew she’d only get groans of protest if she announced her intention to go to a service.

  Esofi settled back against the couch and closed her eyes, just to rest them. She might have fallen asleep for just a moment, but soon enough, a knock at the door pulled her awake.

  “Someone get that,” mumbled Esofi. As usual, Mireille was the one to rise. She opened the door and released a small gasp.

  “Oh,” said Mireille. “Crown Princess!”

  Esofi came back to full awakening at the words. Lexandrie’s eyes snapped open as well, her expression twisting into one of rage. Adale spoke, but Esofi could not make out the words.

  “I am sorry, but she is resting,” said Mireille firmly.

  “I understand,” Adale sighed. “Will you at least give her this, then?”

  “Very well.” Mireille sounded a little confused. “Well, good night—”

  “Wait,” said Adale. “Will she be at breakfast tomorrow?”

  “I could not guess, Crown Princess,” Mireille responded. “Good night.”

  The door closed, and Mireille came back. She was holding a very small basket with a soft cloth draped over the top.

  “What’s that, Mireille?” asked Lexandrie.

  “I do not know yet,” said Mireille, sitting down beside Esofi. “Pastries, perhaps?”

  “As though Esofi needs any more of those,” muttered Lexandrie.

  “What?” Lisette hurried over, looking displeased. “Don’t eat anything until I’ve—”

  Esofi reached over and pulled the fabric away, and Mireille gasped. Curled up in the basket was a flat-faced, cream-colored kitten. It gave the tiniest cry of protest as it lifted its head to sniff at its new surroundings.

  “Oh, for the love of—” began Lisette in disgust. “She truly is a child!”

  Esofi picked up the kitten carefully, making sure not to let its claws catch on the fabric of her robe. It seemed to be of a good temperament with a fine seal-point pattern offsetting the large fluff of pale fur. It was not so small that Esofi thought it would need to be bottle-fed and seemed to be well-bred. Esofi wondered if Adale had purchased it from a breeder and if the princess might give her the name. She was completely unfamiliar with this Ieflarian breed and hoped it did not require some manner of special treatment.

  “You’re not going to keep it, are you?” asked Lexandrie hopelessly.

  “Well, I’m not going to turn him out,” reasoned Esofi, rubbing her finger against the kitten’s little face.

  “We’ll have fur everywhere,” moaned Lexandrie. “It will claw at the furniture and shred our dresses—and besides, accepting the gift means you’ve forgiven her.”

  “I have forgiven her,” said Esofi. “She cannot help her nature.” The kitten pressed up against her décolletage, and Esofi allowed him to stay there. “Or did you mean for me to hate her forever?”

  “Not forever,” said Lexandrie. “Just until she is well and truly sorry. No more than a year.”

  Esofi sighed. “I said I have forgiven her, not that I trust her. But to be angry with her now would only exhaust me. We are going to be together for a very long time, and I would like for it to be pleasant if at all possible. Perhaps she is hoping for the same thing.”

  “I don’t like it,” sulked Lexandrie. “Why has she suddenly decided she wants to court you? Why did she not come to that realization before prompting one of her friends to challenge you in public? It defies reason.”

  �
�I do not know,” admitted Esofi. “Perhaps tomorrow we can speak, and she will tell me for herself.”

  “Or perhaps she is merely a fool,” Lisette suggested dryly.

  “Yes, you have all made your opinions known.” Esofi sighed. “I don’t suppose there’s a note in the basket?”

  “Only dishes,” reported Mireille, withdrawing two silver bowls, one for food and the other for water. “We’ll have to get the servants to bring sand, if you truly do mean to keep it.”

  “I do,” said Esofi, running her hand along the kitten’s almost comically fluffy tail. “I suppose I must also think of a name.”

  “Is it a male or a female?” asked Mireille.

  “A male, I think,” Esofi said. “But I am not entirely certain. Why did she not leave a note?”

  “Perhaps she is illiterate,” suggested Lexandrie, who had now taken a seat as far away from Esofi as she could get without actually leaving the room.

  “I very much doubt that,” said Esofi. “But even if she did not wish to apologize, I would have liked more information about the breeder.”

  “Perhaps it is part of her plan to get you to speak with her again,” suggested Mireille. “She said she wanted to see you at breakfast tomorrow. I think she may be worried that she has lost your heart forever.”

  “But why does she suddenly want it?” mused Esofi. “That is the true question, is it not?”

  “Perhaps she is only pretending,” said Lexandrie flatly. “Perhaps her mother has threatened her if she does not win you.”

  Esofi glared. “And that would be the only reason for someone trying to win me, wouldn’t it?”

  “I didn’t say that!” Lexandrie protested. “I am only being realistic, since you seem determined to make everything so romantic! I find it far more likely that Their Majesties have told her she will be disinherited if she loses you!”

  “They would not do that to their only remaining child,” said Esofi.

  “You don’t know that!” cried Lexandrie. “You have only seen of them what they’ve allowed you to see! For all we know, they could be cruel or vicious or—”

  “Lexandrie, enough,” said Esofi firmly. “I am too tired for bickering.”

  “Fine!” Lexandrie got up. “I am withdrawing for the evening. Good night to you all!” She stormed from the room, slamming the door behind her.

  “She’s not angry at you, but on your behalf,” Mireille assured her. “Worry not. Tomorrow her attitude will have improved; I am certain of it.” She reached over to pet the kitten again, babbling nonsense at him and trying to coax another soft mew out. “What should we name him? Creme? Sugar?” Mireille smiled brightly. “But that sounds as though I mean to eat him.”

  “Give me until morning,” said Esofi. “If something has not come to me by then, you may pick the name.” Mireille’s face lit at the declaration. Esofi scratched the kitten behind the ears and felt a gentle rumbling from deep within his throat.

  “Good night, then, Princess,” Mireille said, rubbing the kitten’s little face once more. “I think we will all feel better after a good night’s rest.”

  She got up and left the room as Lexandrie had, though this time it involved no slamming of doors. Esofi thought of her own waiting bed and rose to her feet. Perhaps it was only because she was too tired to dwell too deeply on it, but she seemed to feel just a little bit less hurt.

  Esofi awoke the next morning with the kitten asleep on her face. She carefully lifted him away, which got a few squeaks of annoyance, and set him back down on the opposite pillow.

  Esofi was not yet sure how her failure to sign the contract yesterday would affect her schedule. She’d really been hoping to take a tour of Birsgen’s medical facilities today. The court mage had explained to her that the Ieflarians had turned to strange practices in order to give medical care. The court mage had called it “science,” which Esofi didn’t like the sound of at all.

  But if Their Majesties summoned her to sign the agreement, she might have to put off the tour, and that was not something Esofi wanted to do.

  The court mage was an Ieflarian man named Arran Eads, who seemed to be trying to make the best of an impossible situation. Officially, he was meant to be the liaison between the Temple of Talcia and the royal court. In Esofi’s opinion, he had not been properly educated and, therefore, could not really be relied upon in the same way she could Henris or any of the court mages back home. He was still one of the most powerful Ieflarian mages in existence, but that really wasn’t saying much. Neither of his two apprentices seemed to be particularly skilled either.

  Archmage Eads didn’t actually spend much time worrying about magic, though. When he’d spoken to Esofi, he’d tried to tell her some nonsense about how they’d started telling the peasants to boil water and this had somehow done something to decrease the rate of sickness and infection. None of it made any sense, and it honestly sounded like desperate superstition.

  The battlemages really were Esofi’s first priority, and she was scheduled to meet again with Their Majesties’ military commanders to discuss their placement, but she knew better than to neglect the healers entirely. That day, she would go to the Temple of Adranus and see precisely what was going on there.

  Adranus was the God of Death first and foremost, so it confused Esofi to learn that he was associated so strongly with healing in Ieflaria. Back home, he was restricted to his domain of Death, and healing came from his daughter, Adalia. But apparently, Adalia’s name was not so well known here, and it was the priests of Adranus who had turned to other avenues in order to tend to the sick and dying. Archmage Eads had used such strange words: surgery, bacteria, sterilization.

  In Esofi’s opinion, it was edging near to blasphemy. Taking fate into one’s own hands was particularly ill-advised, and only time would tell if Esofi would be forced to order the entire temple to be shut down. Hopefully, it would not come to that. She had a feeling the priests meant well and weren’t even aware they had strayed so far from the path of righteousness.

  Perhaps after they had fixed the magical situation in Ieflaria, she could focus her attentions on encouraging the people to return to relying upon healing magic, rather than confusing nonsense. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be too difficult. Despite her strong convictions, she didn’t want to make enemies of anyone, not even the priests of Adranus.

  Esofi put those worries out of her mind and dressed for the day. She wore a slightly more elaborate dress than she’d been choosing for the past few days. She was already growing tired of the dreary attire worn by the Ieflarian people, mourning or not. And for some reason, which might or might not have been related to the duel yesterday, she felt like being impressive. The gown she selected was a bright sky-blue color, with layers of lace and ruffles drawing emphasis to the sleeves, bust, and skirt. Her ladies wove silk flowers into her curls, which were pinned up.

  Finally, when she was ready, they departed to take their breakfast in the banquet hall, as usual. Esofi had a feeling that Crown Princess Adale would be waiting for them there, as she seemed eager to win Esofi’s forgiveness for reasons that were not entirely clear yet.

  Her instincts were correct. Upon entering the room, Esofi’s focus went to the spot beside the seats where Their Majesties would sit. Adale was waiting there, looking slightly on edge. It was a stark contrast to her waiting lady, who was all but asleep. When Adale saw Esofi, her entire face brightened.

  Esofi took her usual seat on the other side of the table, next to where Queen Saski would sit. The room was not quite crowded yet, but she knew it would be very soon.

  “Esofi—” began Adale. “Princess, did you receive—?”

  “The basket? Yes,” said Esofi evenly, ignoring how her ladies glared.

  “Oh,” said Adale. “Well. Did you like him? Because if you didn’t—”

  “I did,” Esofi replied. “Very much.”

  “Oh,” said Adale again. “Well…good. I’m glad to hear it.”

  Esofi gave a small
nod.

  “Would you be willing to walk with me today?” asked Adale. Lisette gave a soft growl at the suggestion.

  “Perhaps I would,” said Esofi. “However, I have agreed to visit the Temple of Adranus today, and cannot yet say if I will have the time.”

  “Please,” said Adale, surprising Esofi with the quiet desperation in her voice and her face. “Just an hour. Or less. Half an hour. I just—”

  “Very well,” said Esofi, deciding to be merciful and cut off Adale’s babblings. “But no more than half an hour. I cannot be late.”

  At those words, Adale looked as though a weight had been lifted from her, but before she could say anything more, the doors opened and King Dietrich and Queen Saski entered the hall. All conversation ceased as Their Majesties took their seats, and the servants hurried out to serve the meal.

  “Princess,” said Queen Saski in a pained voice. “We were so disappointed to hear you had fallen ill last night. I sent a healer, but your waiting lady turned him away. I hope you are better today?”

  “Yes, I believe so,” replied Esofi. “I was just telling Adale that I hope to visit the Temple of Adranus today. I have heard such…curious things about it.”

  Queen Saski seemed reluctant to acknowledge her own daughter, as though she was afraid that Esofi would interpret it as Saski supporting Adale’s actions of the previous day. Esofi did not comment on it, however, and kept the conversation light and cheerful, if not a bit strained.

  Several times, Saski did attempt to steer the conversation in the direction of the betrothal, but Esofi was ready for her.

  She only had to point at a random dish on the table and ask, “What is that called?” in a voice loud enough to be heard by everyone in the room, and the subject would immediately turn to the dish, its history, and which region of Ieflaria made it best.

  Esofi knew she could not put off the signing of the marriage contract forever, though. Sooner or later, Their Majesties would require her to name a day.

  At long last, the meal came to an end. The servants emerged again to clear the dishes away, and Esofi waited until they were done before she rose and walked out of the room at a lazy, unhurried pace. Adale seemed not to know whether she ought to approach her or wait to be summoned. In truth, Esofi was not sure what she preferred.