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Chapter 26
All I Want is a Spicy Riceball
Femira woke up to a gentle knocking at her door. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been out for. The skin around her eyes felt cracked. She pulled herself up from the bed and hastily put on her bloodshedder uniform.
The door knocked again. “Just a second,” she called out and splashed some water on her face from the washbasin and patted down her hair. Her stomach ached, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since the night before, she didn’t have any food in her room and had been too tired to get any breakfast before crawling into bed earlier that morning.
She wasn’t sure who she expected to be knocking at her door, but she sooner expected it to be Lichtin himself than the man who stood tall and imposing his fist raised for another knock.
“Prince Landryn,” she breathed with genuine surprise, “w-what are you doing here?”
“I wanted to check on you,” he replied, his face concerned.
“Why?” She didn’t even think before the question was loose.
“I—uh,” he struggled for a moment, “this was a mistake. I apologise.”
“No,” she insisted, “Let’s go for a walk.” She closed her room door behind her and locked it although the metal lock was practically useless when so many in the barracks could stonebreak. Her earthstone around her neck was the only possession she really cared about. Her stormstone—while valuable—was hidden away in her trunk.
Femira’s rooms were on the second floor, they were somewhat apart from the other recruits' dorms. She was Annali Jahar after all and her illusory station gave her certain privileges.
“How are you, after last night?” Landryn asked.
“I’m fine,” she lied. Truthfully, her head was still spinning both from the fight with Karas and the revelations with Garld and Misandrei. “I’m made from tough stuff,” she said with a smile.
They made their way up to the same terraced walkway that Femira and Misandrei had walked on early that day. The mess hall was on the other side of the barracks. A part of her doubted the Prince of Reldon would join her for a meal in the barrack’s mess hall. She wondered longingly if they would even still be serving up breakfast at this hour. The sun had risen fully, burning away the morning fog and beaming down on the marshalling yard. It looked like the recruits in the yard were still running through training exercises.
“There’s more,” Femira noted, counting the groups of recruits in the yard, “you’ve recruited more?”
“Garld brought them in, more hand picked from the main army. The bloodshedders are poised to be the strongest arm of our military.”
“Garld thought I was a spy,” Femira wasn’t entirely sure why she told Landryn that, but a part of her wanted to know if he thought that also.
“Can you blame him?” Landryn replied, “the other Generals thought he was insane bringing you here to train.”
“I didn’t think they even noticed me?”
“A member of the former Altarean royal family—a highborn woman from Keiran at that. It didn’t go unnoticed.”
“I don’t blame you,” Femira said. It felt uncomfortable pretending to be Annali with him when he seemed so pained to be talking with her. “For Reselas, I mean.” He avoided meeting her eyes as she spoke. He stopped and leaned on the railing of the terrace.
“How could you not?” he sighed, “I… can’t…. I don’t know why you even tolerate speaking with me.”
“I didn’t know him,” Femira said, “it was a political marriage. I'd only known him for a little more than a year…”
Femira paused thinking back to Annali’s journals, “he was manipulative,” she whispered. Landryn turned to her, his face unreadable. “He would control who I saw… who I could be friends with and who I couldn’t.” It was all true, the real Annali simply hadn’t seen that as something wrong. She’d seen it as her new husband guiding her through the Altarean court.
Femira had never seen Reselas’ face. His image in her mind had Lichtin’s face but wearing the same uniform Darza had; all pomp and self-importance. “He would lie to me,” she seethed, “use my inexperience against me.”
“I’m sorry,” Landryn said, “that… sounds… he sounds like a terrible husband.”
“I’m glad you killed him,” Femira said with finality. She thought of driving her stoneblades into Lichtin’s throat, of her faceless brothers and a young Femira forcing herself not to cry herself to sleep. Landryn looked at her with wide eyes, they looked yellow in the midday sun.
“Was he truly that awful?”
“My brothers are dead because of him,” she said. She didn’t even care if Annali’s real brothers were still alive in Keiran. She didn’t know if they were but they might as well be for all the good it did Femira. Landryn’s face was stricken, confused, “I—I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry Annali.”
“Don’t be,” she replied, “it’s not your fault.”
The pair remained silent for a time. Soldiers and officers were moving about the barracks, some saluted to Landryn as they passed, others moved on quickly with their duties. Femira idly wondered what it meant for someone of Annali’s rank to be talking casually with the commander of the Reldoni army.
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“What of your brother?” Femira asked, remembering the conversation they had had at the fountain, “where is he now?”
“Daegan is up north in Rubane. Allyn is worried about him. H-he’s not like us,” he said and Femira gave him a speculative stare. “He’s hindered,” Landryn finished. Femira tilted her head to the side, she had never heard this term before.
She had lived in Altarea as long as she could remember and spoke common tongue as well as anyone but her first language had been Keiran so every now and then a word she’d never heard stumped her. He looked a little uncomfortable but then again the Prince’s stance always seemed a bit uncomfortable talking with her. “He can’t use runestones,” he added when he noticed her confused look.
“He never learned?” Femira replied, “I hadn’t realised there was a word for that. Most people I’ve known prior to coming here never learned to runewield.”
“It’s not that. He can’t learn.”
“Well it’s pretty hard,” she replied lightly, “I still haven’t figured out how to use anything but my earthstone. Maybe he just needs to be pushed harder?”
Landryn didn’t respond, his posture becoming more stiff. He had an unfocused stare at the training yard below. Femira was finding her conversations with the Prince difficult. He didn’t seem able to communicate properly, sometimes just trailing off or abruptly changing the conversation.
“Did you speak with Honorsword Jahasa?” Femira asked, deciding to move the conversation on and she was curious if the other Honorsword was aware of Karas’ demise. More importantly, she was concerned if he and Karas shared their suspicions about Annali’s impersonation.
“Yes.” was all that Landryn offered. His entire demeanour seemed off. Was it something I said?
Femira’s stomach forced her mind back to the mess hall and what they had served for breakfast. A common dish in Reldon were these rice balls stuffed with some mystery concoction of spiced something. Her stomach growled at the thought of them. Maybe I should head down, just to check if they’re still serving. She glanced down the walkway and saw that Garld was approaching them. He wasn’t rushing to them but they were clearly his target.
“Commander,” Garld inclined his head to Landryn.
“Hello Garld,” Landryn said with a smile, he seemed a lot more relaxed than he had the previous night, “I hope you don’t mind me distracting one of your recruits from her training.”
“Annali has a lot to prepare for her next assignment,” was Garld’s response.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Femira replied, “Captain Misandrei had instructed me to rest for tomorrow.”
“Then I suggest you do that,” Garld directed, “I have matters to discuss with the Commander.”
“Yes, sir—of course,” she replied quickly. She didn’t want to offend Prince Landryn by leaping at the chance to remove herself from the conversation but her mind drifted back again to spicy rice balls.
“I’m glad to hear you’re doing well, Lady Annali,” Landryn said before she could leave and then he hastily added, “I wanted to say thank you.”
“Ehm—I’m not sure why you’re thanking me? You’re the one who took down Karas, sir,” Femira said, narrowing her eyes.
“Oh, not that,” Landryn replied, “your cousin, Daurond. He tells me that you supported us last night with the Altareans. He said you were quite fierce with Lord Himsbrack. He’s been the spearhead of the group resisting Highlord Ingel’s authority in Altarea.”
“Himsbrack is a fool,” Femira replied, at least he seemed to her in the brief interaction she’d had with him.
The conversation then reminded her of Darza and her promise to him in exchange for his silence, “Captain Darza on the other hand,” she offered, “I think he’s cleverer than he appears. He’ll support Highlord Ingel too.”
“Darza?” Landryn mused and then turned to Garld, “he’s the stormguard Captain that assisted us during the take-over of the Altarean palace, wasn’t he?”
“Indeed he was,” Garld replied, giving Femira a curious glance. I’m not entirely sure what I’m doing either, Garld.
“Cowardly man, I thought,” Garld continued, “…good self-preservation instincts.”
“The other Altarean highborn think poorly of him,” Femira noted, “but with the stormguard numbers decimated, you might not get much resistance appointing him as Lord Himsbrack’s replacement.”
“I’ll suggest that to Highlord Ingel,” Landryn replied. Was that how easy it was to get someone promoted? A few flippant suggestions from some nobody. But then again, Annali wasn’t some nobody, as far as Landryn knew she had been an active player in the Altarean court.
“You spoke with Daurond?” Garld asked Femira, a small smile on his lips.
“I did—I was surprised to hear about how much he’s been doting on me since I arrived. Especially considering that’s the first time I’ve seen him since arriving.”
“Indeed,” Garld chuckled, “I had not had the chance to for you two to catch up prior to the feast.” Did he find it amusing? Throwing her into a crowd and pretending to be Annali with minimal training seemed to be a game that Garld enjoying.
“Daurond is a guest in my father’s court,” Landryn put it, “and from what I’ve seen the man loves to make a show and tell a story… I’m not entirely sure how he ended up here after his exile from Keiran..”
“His lifestyle choices favour Reldoni courts rather than those of Altarea,” Garld said. Femira had suspected that Daurond had been another of Garld’s imposters. She wondered at the scale of many frauds Garld had working for him. It was also a possibility that Garld was blackmailing Daurond, having him openly acknowledge Femira as Annali made it very hard for anyone to say that she wasn’t. Femira still could hardly believe that people that had actually known Annali Jahar hadn’t been able to see through her—they could tell something was off but they didn’t seem to suspect she was an imposter.
“You don’t need to thank me for that,” Femira brushed off Landryn’s initial sentiment and then remembering she was addressing the commander of the army and added a quick, “sir.” She was finding that she was slipping out of her Annali persona more and more, but at the same time she wasn’t being the same Femira she was before either. Maybe the two were slowly merging?
Nah, I’m just tired. And starving, her stomach growled at her, she’d gotten far too used to the feeling of not-being-hungry. Back in Altarea, she’d lived meal to meal, Lichtin paid her well enough after big jobs, but the big jobs were few and far between and most of that in-between time when her money would run low she’d resort back to stealing food. Having all her meals for free in the barracks remained a luxury she was wholly unaccustomed to. They might be setting up for lunch about now.
“I best go,” she said to Landryn and then saluted Garld. He nodded his approval and she made for the stairs leading down to the mess hall. She prayed to gods she didn’t know that they were serving those mystery spice rice balls today. Was there a rice ball god?