“Your highness,” An ornately dressed aide to the Queen gingerly announced to get her attention. “Chairman Troist of the Passage Group has arrived. Should I request that he return later?”

Waking herself from the daydream, the young Queen shook her head and lifted herself to her feet roughly. “No, I’m ready.”

Following his patient pace the Queen searched her mind for a link to the name which sat fuzzily in the corner of her thoughts. “Gerald, Chairman Troist he’s…”

“The Troist family are one of the six great families of Irias.” Gerald filled in without allowing the queen to expose her ignorance even in private. “You can consider him royalty of the city-state, although his power comes from generational wealth not noble blood.”

“I see.” The Queen nodded as the distant port stirred in her mind. Gaurdia, having no costal area, and only a few navigable waterways had no choice but to form strong bonds with naval partners to acquire many imported luxury items. One such partner was of course Irias Trade Region, via the Troist family.

“Chairman Troist, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” The Queen elegantly said while shaking his hand lightly. “I’m sure your journey was long, to come so soon after arriving, you honor us.”

“No, the honor is mine. You’ll have to excuse my overexcitement to introduce myself without delay.” The middle-aged Chairman spoke smooth words with a half-smile that nearly hid the deception of the flattery. “And while I’d like to claim I’d rushed only to sooner catch sight of your rumored beauty, unfortunately it’s not the case.”

As the Chairman’s smile wore off the Queen recognized a familiar broken expression she’d seen before on her father’s face.

“How many,” She began to ask after settling her thumping heart.

“One appeared two months ago, and then a few days before I left, another appeared.” The chairman explained, rubbing his eyes as he accidentally pictured the scene he’d finally managed to repress over the long journey up the snaking river.

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“I-” The queen stammered hesitantly, unsure of what aid she could possibly provide so late.

“I just thought you would like to know.” The chairman explained, feeling the pity leaking from the Queen and disliking its sensation.

“Thank you,” The Queen eventually managed with a soft bow of her head. She didn’t want to hear the news, but she needed to.

“If you should thank anyone,” The chairman explained, thinking back to the craft that’d facilitated such a quick trip up the river. “It’d be those Arna & Reynolds folks.”

“Arna and…” The Queen paused as another fuzzy recollection rises from a dark period of memories.

“Yep, group-a shipbuilders that set-up about ten miles down the coast. They helped us a ton cleaning up after the first demon attack. And when the second one came, they were ready.”

“What do you mean? Ready how?”

“Honest,” The chairman shrugged with a slight grimace, “I have no idea. When the second attack was happening, something like a bolt of lightning rang out and turned it into dust.”

“Arna and Reynolds,” The queen repeated as if the name were so familiar in her mind. Glancing to Gerald for help, he shook his head with a shrug. Was it really something that only she had heard of? It wasn’t impossible, the life she lived before the crown wasn’t short. But this memory felt so fresh.

What was it?

The question plagued her mind as she continued the talk with the merchant. Once the news of the regions had been exchanged and continued trade deals had been agreed upon, the meeting concluded successfully.

As the Queen’s appointments for the day ended, she made her way towards the library in hopes maybe a tome would jog her memory. As the hallways narrowed from newer construction of the main castle to the much older cramped sections that predated even her oldest ancestors, she was startled by a sudden rhythmic tapping.

She’d remembered the old stories about ghosts and spirits that shared these halls but with a moment of consideration she rejected that option.

“Girl; your eyes there,” A scraggly voice asked with a mocking cackle. “Are they worth even salt?”

The Queen flinched as the sharp pointed cane held by the old woman grazed within an inch of her trembling eyes.

“Master…” The Queen eventually recognized after a hesitated moment. “Why are you… How are you…?”

“Who, Why, How,” The ancient, hunched woman babbled as she flicked the stick back to steady her tiny frame. “Ask where I’ll be buried why don’t ya? Come.”

Giving the Queen no time to even ask a follow up, she had no choice but to follow the rapidly vanishing sound of cane taps in the distance.