I think communication is important, but I know it’s not equally important to everyone. It seems a shame. Much conflict could be avoided if only people would talk with each other.
The Book of Lost Wisdom, Kalutu
Twentieth of Learning 1142
Dahr opened his eyes and lay listening. Something had woken him, but he couldn’t hear anything. He sniffed the air, but there was nothing but the clean smell of the grass around them with just a hint of saltwater, as if they weren’t far from a large body of water. Well that made sense. The Brotherhood was an island. They obviously had to cross the water to get to it.
He had been dreaming, he realized. Dreaming about his mother. He could still remember her, of course. It had only been a couple of years since she had died, but she had been sick for a long time. That was the version of his mother that he retained. He had been aware that when he’d been younger, she’d been healthier and more present in his life, but he had far fewer memories of those times.
Cora looked at the world through faded green eyes that were either vacant or haunted, depending on the day. Her flawless olive skin had sallowed, and her luscious black hair, now mostly gray, had become thin and brittle. What was left of it hung limply on her head as if it hadn’t bothered to wait for the inevitable end.
She coughed a lot, and often wheezed when she spoke. Her body had become thin, frail. She could no longer do chores around the house, so Dahr did what he could–whatever she asked of him, but even back then he knew it wasn’t enough. They could have paid people to do the work, they had money he knew, but his mother didn’t want anyone to see her like that. It wasn’t hard to see how someone who had been so beautiful would want to hide away from the world, but her withdrawal from life had hurt him almost as much as her withdrawal from him.
He had been sad when she died, but not for her. Se Karn would care for her and guide her to the afterlife. She would go on to whatever came next. Her passing shouldn’t have been a sad time, but he missed her—missed her so much.
King Terrence and Queen Treya had been the ones to break the news. His mother was safely in the arms of Se Karn. He never stopped to wonder why the king himself had bothered to take the time to tell a kitchen servant about his mother’s death. He never wondered why Queen Treya had been so kind to him or why she had held him while he cried. Even now, years later, he didn’t quite understand. He was the king’s son, not hers.
The only reason they knew of her passing was that King Terrence had left a man behind to stay with his mother, though he hadn’t wondered about that either. He’d always been told how great King Terrence was. His mother must have been in love with him, though he’d never realized it before. When she’d died, the king’s servant had returned with the news, though it had taken him weeks to get back. By the time Dahr had learned what had happened, his mother was dead and buried.
He hadn’t been there to say goodbye. He hadn’t been able to attend her funeral. Queen Treya and Eric had taken him to the Temple of Se Karn to say goodbye to her. That was nice. And Queen Treya had frequently stopped by the kitchens after that, often bearing treats for him. He hadn’t understood why, but of course, there were things he hadn’t known.
Queen Treya was his mother now, in as much as he had one, and he was good with that. He loved the queen. He felt close to her. Why was he thinking about the queen? He had no idea, but the thought of her comforted him. If only he could remember his mother before she’d grown ill. He felt like crying but sat up instead. There was too much happening to dwell on events of the past.
The world was gray. Day wasn’t far away, and with it they would continue their trip to the Brotherhood. But at the moment all was quiet. Eric sat nearby, leaning against one of the crates that had been in the wagon, blanket drawn up over him. He was sound asleep. No, not asleep. Once again, his brother was on a soul journey. He was visiting another world. Eric’s head rested against the box at an odd angle, and he’d probably have quite the headache when he awoke. Dahr wondered if he should do something about it, but he didn’t. He just sat there, staring at the man who was his brother. Something felt off, but he didn’t know what. He called up the threads and studied them.
He could see that Eric wasn’t present in his body, but there was something different this time. He wasn’t on another world. He was on Thysandrika. Was that possible? Could you soul journey to the same world? Dahr wasn’t sure, but he’d never heard of anyone doing that. Not really surprising considering how little he’d learned about the subject.
Dahr was going to let Eric sleep but felt uneasy. Waking Eric would be better than wondering. Hopefully he wasn’t interrupting anything important.
“Eric, wake up.”
He kept his voice low. He didn’t want Eldiss or Aisha to hear him. Dahr felt that the reborn didn’t need to know about Eric’s nightly travels.
When Eric didn’t respond, Dahr frowned and raised his voice, slightly. Still nothing.
A panic he couldn’t explain seized him. “Eric, please, wake up.”
Nothing. Dahr crawled the few feet to where Eric lay in the cart and shook him.
“Eric?”
There was no response. He shook harder. Nothing. Panic welled up inside him, and all attempts at stealth vanished.
“Eldiss, there’s something wrong with Eric!”
Only a minute later, Eldiss and Aisha were with him. Eldiss was so big, he didn’t have to climb onto the cart to examine Eric. Dahr worried the big man would think Eric was faking unconsciousness in an attempt to escape, but no. That didn’t make sense. What could they accomplish this far from civilization?
“Aisha,” said Eldiss, “Please ask our hosts if they can help.”
Aisha didn’t reply. She ran off toward where the three brethren camped further down the road. Eldiss continued to try to wake Eric, gently at first, then more roughly. Worried that he might hurt Eric, Dahr interceded.
“You might want to wait till they get here. He’s not just unconscious.”
“Oh?”
“He’s on a soul journey.”
Eldiss returned Dahr’s expectant look with a blank one of his own.
“I don’t think his soul is present in his body.”
“What could do that?”
“Veresh,” said Dahr, “among other things. I just don’t know what those other things are. We’re going to need help on this one.”
“You seem to know a lot about it for someone your age.”
“I took a soul journey myself not long ago. Lord Ormund, who taught us about magic, mentioned it at one of our lessons. I don’t think he meant to teach us about it, so much as learn more about my journey, but I didn’t tell him much. Lord Ormund wasn’t one of my favorite people.”
Eldiss looked Dahr over, apparently decided he wasn’t going to get more from him and turned his gaze toward the place where the brethren had camped. He stood waiting, a giant of a man that Dahr thought he should be more afraid of, but the threads had reassured him. The big man had never meant him any harm, no matter how loud he spoke or how stern his voice.
While they waited for help to arrive, Dahr called up Eric’s thread. It didn’t lead to his body, because a body was only a vehicle. In the truest sense, a person is their soul. Dahr wasn’t sure if he’d learned that somewhere, or if the knowledge came from his strange relationship with George.
The thread, being linked to Eric’s soul, ran off into the distance. Dahr started following it in his mind. He could tell, somehow, that Eric was far, far away, but he couldn’t say where.
When he was first testing out the threads, he had felt the thread that linked him to Chari and Kalutu when they were presumably still in the vicinity of Rish. This felt like it was much further away. Nevertheless, he kept following it, pushing himself to follow a thread further than he’d ever tried before.
His efforts were interrupted by the arrival of the brethren. Dahr immediately dismissed the threads, knowing how unwelcome his ability was here. None of the brethren spoke or so much as touched Eric. They stood silently, staring at the unconscious boy in the back of the cart. Dahr knew they were doing something but didn’t know what.
A long time passed before Dahr decided to say something. Before he could get it out, he heard Quant’s voice in his head.
Do you know where he is? Just think your answer back to me.
No…maybe. He’s on a soul journey.
I see. Do you know how this state was achieved?
Sorry, but no. Can you help him?
No. But there are others on the island who might be able to.
“It is time to leave,” said the blond woman, aloud. Dahr wondered what her name was.
Gabriella, but my friends call me Gabby.
Are you reading my mind?
No. Your thoughts are very loud. You’re going to need to learn to shield them. I can help you with that.
And what will that cost me.
Nothing. We are not as mercenary as humans. Though I am very curious about you.
I’ll bet. If you can help him, I’ll tell you a little about my abilities.
I don’t know if we can, but we will try.
Dahr didn’t plan to give up much, but the brethren, people who could sense when he used his ability, might be a good source of knowledge about it. He watched while Aisha made Eric comfortable and then motioned to Eldiss to get on the way.
Dahr stood off to the side, feeling helpless and useless. What was the use of all this power if he couldn’t do anything to help Eric? And what would he do if Eric didn’t wake up? Dahr, in his desperation, reached out to the one being who might be able to help.
George, if you’re listening, please, help him.
I’m pretty sure that Eric doesn’t need help at the moment. I believe he’s doing just fine.
Do you know where he is?
Yes. He is on the Plains of Xarinos.
He’s on the Plains of Xarinos and doesn’t need help?
He’s a guest of the Undead King, who has no intention of harming him.
How can you know this?
That’s a fair question. Would you like an honest answer?
Of course.
I don’t know for sure, but I suspect it has to do with being a force of chaos. The gods that you worship are gods of order. Chaos isn’t compatible. Sheba and Iorana might not be able to penetrate the Plains of Xarinos, but there may be some lesser gods that can. This is just a theory, though.
Have you always been able to…penetrate the Plains of Xarinos?
Yes.
Dahr didn’t say anything else, but he wondered if that information should worry him. On one hand, he had access to information beyond even the gods, but there were too many implications from that for him to know if that was a good thing.
How did he know, for example, that George wasn’t a servant of the Undead King? He didn’t. But he had decided he would trust George until he had reason not to. Was this reason enough?
No, he decided. If George were a servant of the Undead King, he would have hid this connection. George had opened up to Dahr, even knowing that they saw the Undead King as the Enemy. Perhaps he could be trusted after all.
*
Ambassador Rhea wasn’t sure what to expect when she appeared in the throne room in Sawheta. Though she had visited four smaller kingdoms over the last couple of days, nothing that had happened in any of them would serve as an indication of what was to come. That was because those smaller kingdoms were used to doing what they were told. Zoloa and Sawheta, the two largest kingdoms in the Allied Kingdoms of Karmenon, made all the important decisions. Each smaller kingdom was more or less a vassal state that voted as they were told to vote. On rare occasions, one kingdom or another would switch sides, but the balance between the two most powerful kingdoms had remained fairly stable over the course of time.
Sawheta and Zoloa were occasionally on the same page, but the competition between them went back at least a couple of centuries. They were rivals through and through, if not actual enemies, and everyone knew it.
None of the smaller countries would be anything but cooperative with Rhea, but King Bronen and Queen Navanata might see Rhea’s promotion as an insult to their kingdom. Obviously, it was an important stop for her.
She had braced herself before traveling, standing away from the edge of the chirkir with Jerish, her mother, and a contingent of Melarian palace guards. As soon as they appeared, she looked around.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
The throne room was similar to its counterpart in Melar. Two thrones resided on a wide marble platform at the rear of the room. There were columns, tapestries, even statues of the king and queen. A brief look around suggested it hadn’t changed much since the last time she had been there.
The Sawhetan guards hadn’t reacted, but that didn’t surprise her. By now, everyone would be ready for a chirkir to arrive suddenly in the presence of their rulers. A quick glance told her that King Bronen wasn’t around. Queen Navanata, who had been standing nearby talking to a noblewoman, walked toward her and knelt as if in acknowledgement of her rank. Rhea had been ready for many things, but not that.
Queen Navanata looked much like she had twenty years ago. Her silken blonde hair had been cut shorter, but her blue eyes were just as sharp. Her fair skin remained both unblemished and unwrinkled. Her full lips were tinged with just enough red to make one wonder if she were using cosmetics, and her face held a serene superiority that very much spoke to her character.
“Queen Navanata, there is no need for such a gesture,” she said as soon as she recovered from her surprise.
“On the contrary,” replied the queen, “you represent the High King, and both King Bronen and I felt that, given our past, we needed to make our allegiance clear. Whatever our experiences of each other have been until now, that is over. The gods have chosen King Terrence, and they have chosen you. In Sawheta, we honor the gods. We honor their choices. And you are their choice.”
Rhea, surprised by the overt cooperation, stood motionless. It was the one thing she hadn’t been prepared for. Realizing the queen was still kneeling, she stepped off the chirkir, crossed the distance between them and helped her up. Then she knelt herself.
“Queen Navanata, you honor me, but this is your kingdom. It is your will that rules here, and I am but a guest. And while it is true that your kingdom and mine have often been at odds for various reasons, we are both on the same side in this fight. If you are a willing participant, if you will help with the expense of provisioning and sending troops to fight under High King Terrence’s banner, then you need never kneel to me again. I appreciate the gesture, but we both know that you are queen of a kingdom far greater than my own.”
Now it was Queen Navanata’s turn to be flustered. She blushed and immediately moved to help Rhea up. “Nonsense, Rhea, Melar is…”
“Small, and only in any position of power at all because of its location. And that’s okay. Even before the war declaration, I was well satisfied with my lot in life. I admit I was nervous about coming here given our past interactions, but it seems that worry was for nothing.”
“Will you do us the honor of staying the night?”
Rhea was going to decline but realized that itself might be seen as an insult. “Of course, but we must be gone early tomorrow. There are still other stops to make. May I present my mother, Queen Raven, and my personal bodyguard, Jerish.”
“Queen Raven. It has been a long time. I’m sorry for not greeting you sooner, but I didn’t recognize you at first.”
“Understandable, as I have aged greatly since you have last seen me.”
Queen Navanata frowned. “Apologies, that isn’t what I meant.”
“Yes it is, and it’s okay. It would be hard for anyone to recognize me after what I’ve been through. I take no offense whatsoever. Though might I say, you’ve barely changed at all.”
“Bosh. Pretty lies are still lies, Raven. It’s been what, at least twenty years since we’ve last seen each other. How are you feeling?”
“You mean is my mind still broken? Yes, it is.”
Rhea saw the discomfort on Queen Navanata’s face and stepped in before this went further. “I’m sure we’ll have time to catch up later. I do wish to see the king, however. It has been too long.”
“Yes, of course,” said Queen Navanata, gesturing to one of the servants to fetch him. The servant bowed and ran from the room. For some reason, Rhea followed his progress to the door. No one spoke or moved as if they were waiting for her to say something further. She hated being in this position.
“We’ll need an estimate on the number of troops you can provide and their disposition. Breakdown of classes and levels, that sort of thing.”
“It’s already done, Ambassador Rhea. When I said we would cooperate, I meant it. We are with the high king in this, because we remember Lethe, and it is entirely possible that the Undead King is even more dangerous.”
“I think the difference is that Lethe had a human king. The Undead King is far older and more powerful. If he were able to expand his territory, well, who could stand against him?”
“We understand each other then. Ah, look who’s come to visit.”
Before Rhea could say anything, King Bronen had entered and dropped to his knees. Rhea hurried forward to help him up as he looked quite a bit older than she remembered, most likely because he hadn’t kept pace with his wife’s leveling.
The king’s kind face showed wrinkles around his mouth and eyes. His salt and pepper hair was cut short, as was his neatly trimmed beard. His brown eyes seemed shadowed as if he hadn’t been sleeping well, but wearing a crown could do that to you. He was dressed in red with gold trim from his doublet down to his boots, and wore a flowing gold cape that seemed too large on his slender frame, as if it was made before he’d lost weight. Rhea wondered if his health might be suffering, but only briefly. He had knelt quickly and fluidly, belying Rhea’s first impression of frailty.
When she looked to her right, Jerish was there, ready to support her. Help her. Protect her. For a moment, she lost her train of thought. Here she was in the throne room of her most problematical ally, and she was thinking about Jerish. Another thing she’d have to take care of. She turned her attention from him, hoping no one had noticed her reaction, but of course, that wouldn’t be the case. King Bronen and Queen Navanata were too sharp to miss anything that obvious. She chided herself for losing focus and frowned.
She’d get back to business here, but sooner or later, she’d have to have a serious talk with Jerish.
King Bronen interrupted her thoughts. “Over the years, we’ve all developed set responses to situations that arise frequently. For example, this is where I’d say, ‘you must be tired from your long journey. Perhaps you would like to be shown to your quarters’, but this is the first time I’ve had someone arrive by chirkir. I’m curious, how does it feel?”
“The first couple of times I felt disoriented, but now I think I’m used to it. Would you like to try?”
“What me? Use a chirkir?” He seemed to consider it. “I’m afraid that taking a risk like that would be irresponsible. One day, perhaps, when I step down, but no, not now. There are more important things than my curiosity to consider.”
“You’re quite right, of course,” said Rhea. “And I may not be tired, but I could do with a drink. This has been a trying week.”
“Of course,” said Queen Navanata. “In the excitement I’ve quite forgotten my manners. Let’s move to somewhere more comfortable.”
While refreshments were being organized, Rhea thought back to the last time she’d been in Sawheta. Different time, different situation, of course, but King Bronen and Queen Navanata had not changed. Their cooperation had surprised her, but that didn’t mean they weren’t playing a deeper game as well. She could take nothing for granted. It might well be that their actions had been designed to throw her off. She’d have to be more careful moving forward.
*
Rhea’s talk with Jerish finally occurred on their third day of travel, during their first and only night in Sawheta. The king and queen had assigned her a room that shared a door with her bodyguard. Did everyone think Jerish was her lover? When she finally returned to Leonid, there would be some awkward questions. Still, there was nothing she could do about that now. What she could do was make sure that the situation didn’t get any worse. So she knocked on his door, and he opened it.
“Yes, my Queen?”
He was still fully dressed, which suited her just fine. Tall and lanky, with long disheveled red hair, he looked like a court jester might, and often acted the part when no one else was around, anyway. He stared at her curiously and waited.
“We need to talk.”
“About?”
She wondered if she should invite him into her room, or go into his. It didn’t really make a difference. No one outside would know what happened, so she stepped aside and nodded to her room.
He entered, looking around since he hadn’t seen it yet. It was a very well-appointed room as befit the high king’s ambassador. It had a huge four poster bed with a canopy and curtains hanging down all around. The bedspread was cream-colored, matching the curtains. The neutral color contrasted nicely with the beads woven into each panel, forming interesting geometric shapes in a panoply of colors, each side unique.
The furniture was of the highest quality, made from dark wood, and included two dressers, a wardrobe and two end tables, one on each side of the bed.
“We need to talk about our relationship.”
“What relationship would that be, m’lady?”
He blinked innocently. Had she imagined it? Surely not.
“I think you know what I’m talking about.”
“Your Highness, or would you prefer Madam Ambassador?”
“I don’t care.”
“You are above me in rank. You are married to a man I have pledged to serve. Whether or not I feel attraction to you is of no consequence. I am not in a position to press any relationship at all, other than the one that already exists. I was ordered to protect you, and that is exactly what I intend to do.”
She bit her lip. This was not going how she thought it would. Why was he so willing to flirt with her sometimes, but so serious right now? What was his game?
“You’re a servant, Jerish. Exactly how are you meant to protect me?”
“With my life, m’lady.”
She sighed. “What would you do if I were attacked? For that matter, why does my mother insist that there is more to you than meets the eye? What makes you qualified to protect me?”
“There may be a few things about me you don’t know, m’lady.”
“Such as?”
“I am not King Leonid’s servant. I am his bodyguard.”
She stared at him. Even though she knew he was deceptively strong, it was hard to picture him as anything but a servant. Then again, maybe that was the point. “And how did that happen?”
“I was assigned to protect him at all costs, the way I am now assigned to protect you. If you make me reveal more than that, you might put me in danger. No one can know my true nature.”
True nature? “Are you human?”
“Oh yes. But I am not what I seem.”
“So my mother has told me.”
“I’ll tell you, if you order me to do so. I am bound to serve. But it will not help you, and it might hurt me. I would think very carefully before asking for the truth about me, m’lady.”
This stumped Rhea completely. She had no idea what to do. As a servant of Mitra, she absolutely wanted to know. As a compassionate human being, she didn’t want to put her servant…no, bodyguard in danger.
“Why will telling me put you in danger?”
“Because my goddess does not wish anyone to know.”
And there it was. If he was told by a goddess to keep a secret, and she demanded it from him, he would have to choose between obeying his goddess and obeying his sovereign. If he chose her, as he implied he would, then it might well put him in danger.
“Okay. I won’t ask. What can you tell me?”
He stepped forward. He was very close now. He leaned even closer as if he intended to whisper the answer in her ear.
“You want me.”
Her heart skipped a beat. A statement. Not a shred of doubt in the tone of his voice.
“That’s not relevant to this conversation,” she said, though she wasn’t sure it was true. Damn him, she had to think.
“You’re the Queen. If you ordered me to your bed, I would not refuse.” He leaned even closer so she could feel his breath on her ear. “Do you think that’s something you might wish to do? How long has it been, m’lady?”
She wished he’d stop calling her that. It really was driving her crazy.
“I think it’s time for you to return to your room.”
“As you wish, m’lady.”
The touch of his lips on her ear was so light, she wasn’t sure she hadn’t imagined it. She bit her lip again. Her legs felt weak.
“Go.”
He stepped back, bowed and returned to his room, closing the door behind him. Rhea stood, rigid, eyes pressed tightly shut, wondering why she was so attracted to him. Did he have a skill? Some power? But it didn’t matter. The situation hadn’t changed at all. Well that wasn’t completely true. It had changed. He had all but admitted he wasn’t just a servant, and that revealing what he truly was could put him in danger.
If that was the case, how could she trust him? Was he really looking out for her best interests?
She growled in frustration and slapped herself across the face to bring herself to her senses.
Well, whatever the case, until she knew more, she had to resist his advances. She had a feeling it wasn’t going to be so easy.
*
Alice Trast had become a puppy. Not literally, perhaps, but it’s what she felt like. All day, every day, she faithfully followed Queen Treya around, watching, learning, remaining ready to jump in and cause chaos in the guise of being helpful. Even wagging her tail when Treya paid her a compliment. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d assumed that role, not even when she was a child. That she now had amused her no end.
This wasn’t something that Treya had thrust upon her, so much as Trast’s understanding of how nobles were meant to act. And under normal circumstances that didn’t come into play. Most of the time, she was the most important noble, and so she set the conditions for whatever gathering she was at. That wasn’t true, however, when she was walking with the Queen.
To be clear, she would never be meek. She’d offer her opinion whether it was asked for or not. Presumably that’s why Treya had chosen to elevate her in the first place. But when out in public, she would never do anything to disrespect the queen, because she genuinely liked her.
So many people approached Treya only because they wanted something. She saw it immediately, a never-ending theme in the queen’s life. People wanted something and sought her out. But Lady Trast and Lady Mere were high enough in the food chain that they didn’t require anything. They were both from important noble families in one of the most successful kingdoms in the world—old, rich families that wanted for nothing. Well that wasn’t exactly true.
Trast wanted excitement in whatever form that took, and Mere wanted something to solve. The two of them got into trouble together, and early on had decided to support the new queen, as much for something to do as anything else. No, it was more than that. The new queen was young and perhaps in over her head in the beginning. She’d have been easy to take advantage of. But they liked her, and more importantly they loved Terrence, even before he had ridden off to Xarinos to become a hero.
They were both hurt when Treya withdrew from them when Terrence had gone off to war, but there had been rumblings at the time, first of an affair and later of some sort of medical condition. Treya had refused to see them, and for a while that had hurt Trast’s feelings, even though she could see reasons why things might be that way. With Terrence gone and a new child, it had to be hard, though that was all the more reason to let your friends help.
When Terrence returned, Treya sought them out to apologize, and though she didn’t tell them that she had been pregnant, there were enough clues in what she had said for both Trast and Mere to work it out. They never said it to the queen, but they talked about it among themselves, and finally understood. That there was no baby could only mean one thing. Something every noblewoman in Rish understood all too well. Like so many others, Treya had lost a child.
Instantly all was forgiven. How could they blame her? The pain. The anguish. More so for a queen who was expected to produce not only an heir, but more than one, because life was dangerous, particularly for royals.
She realized Treya had asked her something and, lost in thought, she had missed it.
“I’m sorry, Your Highness. I was elsewhere.”
“I’m not surprised. You’ve got a lot on your plate. I asked if you had anything planned for the Day of the Dead.”
“I suspect I’ll be following you around, unless you’re tired of seeing me.”
Treya laughed. “That won’t happen. It’s so rare we get to spend time together—this is a treat for me. Though I suppose it’s not all that exciting for you. I was saying that might change on the twenty-second though.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, you know the nobles court is on.”
Trast snorted. “Oh sure, let the excitement begin. Listening to a bunch of self-centered rich people airing their problems, expecting the king or queen to solve everything for them. It’s so exciting that I won’t breathe for the first couple of hours of listening to them drone on about their petty nonsense.”
Treya snickered “You’re so bad. But no, this time it’s going to be different.”
“How so?”
“You’re going to be on the throne. You’ll be the one with the solutions.”
“Me?”
Treya laughed. “Yes, you. You’ll need some practical experience sooner or later.”
“Can I vote for later?”
“No. In two days time, you get to change a few lives, hopefully for the better.”
“I have no idea how to do this, you realize.”
“You’ll pick it up quickly enough. You’ve been to enough of them.”
“What if I decide something the wrong way?”
“That’s the beauty of the throne. There is no wrong way, there’s just your way, and if you happen to be wrong, you’ll never hear about it, because no one is going to tell you you made a mistake.”
“No one would tell you maybe. I’m fairly sure I’ll hear about it.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure. You’ve moved out of the noble stable and into royalty. Maybe not by birth, but it’s almost like I’ve adopted you. That’s how people will see it. You probably haven’t noticed yet, but you will. You’re a level higher now, and people will be less willing to say anything negative to your face. It won’t stop them from talking behind your back, but you’re going to be more popular than you’ve ever been.”
“Oh, I can’t wait. Why did I agree to this again?”
“Because I need you.”
Trast blew out her breath. “Well, when you put it like that, how can I say no. I meant it when I said I’ll always be there for you.”
“I know. And with Terrence gone, I’m going to need you more than ever.”
“I know.”
There was nothing else to say and neither said it. However, since they were approaching the temple of Sylinar, there wasn’t much time left to talk anyway. Once inside, a priest would introduce Treya to yet another victim of soul damage, and she would heal them. This would be her third. The second hadn’t taken any time at all. The queen, along with her other talents, was now considered a soul healer. Completely unheard of, but for Queen Treya, perhaps not completely unexpected. She’d always been better than others around her, even if she never saw it herself. It was one of the things Lady Trast liked about her.
For her entire life, she’d been surrounded by nobles filled with their own sense of self-importance. Then came Treya who was so down-to-earth. So humble. So damned good at everything. It almost wasn’t fair.
The healing went even faster than it did the last time and, once again, Treya was the hero of the moment. During the walk back to the palace, all Trast could think about was that for the first time, publicly, she would sit on the throne of the Kingdom of Twyl, ready to sit in judgment of other nobles.
She tried to figure out how to approach the situation and after a while gave up. She’d just have to wing it and hope for the best. She sincerely hoped that Queen Treya wouldn’t have to do much damage control after it was all said and done.