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The Prince And The Queen
Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

“Thank you all for being here with me tonight,” King Theron began, seated at the head of a small table set up in the staff quarters, “We’ve gathered to remember and celebrate the life of our dearest Elia. Daughter, sister, friend.” Both his voice and hand, lifting a dainty, tulip shaped glass, shook. “I miss her greatly.” He sipped the syrupy, bright magenta liqueur that sat in front of each of them, made by the staff each year from fermented wild raspberries and chamomile flowers. It was Elia’s favorite, though no one else liked it much at all. Theron requested they eat in the dining room usually used by staff. It was tiny compared to the palace dining hall, making for a more intimate setting that was sure to get a bit emotional.

Iona stared down at her empty plate, trying to gather the strength to look around at her fellow dinner guests. She knew they all shared the same somber expression and lack of appetite to match, but the kitchen staff had worked for hours on this meal before being given the evening off, and it would be disrespectful not to partake. Leo took his father’s plate first and started to serve him. Dinner was made up of Elia’s favorite foods: roasted pork and figs, charred wild carrots brought by Asa who made them any time Elia visited, potato dumplings smothered with saucy onions and garlic, and macerated berries with sweet cream pudding. Once he set the meal in front of Theron, the rest of them dished up and dug in. Only the clinking of silverware against ceramic filled the space until everyone had cleared their plates. A heavy silence returned, and Iona debated scooping up seconds just to add some noise back into the room.

Heston cleared his throat, “I thought maybe it would be nice for us all to share some personal stories about Elia. Maybe ones that the rest of us haven’t heard before.” He glanced around the table, gathering wordless agreements from everyone. When Iona locked eyes with him, she reluctantly nodded- if everyone else was going to tell stories, she couldn’t be the only person to opt out. But this…was going to be hard for her. Nervousness and gloom swirled in her stomach, as she leaped from memory to memory in her head. A story to tell of her best friend, one that hadn’t been told before. Of course, she had a plethora to choose from, but they all felt too significant, too close to her heart to say aloud.

Dammit, why would Heston want to do this? she thought. Leo was the only one who ever opened up, never Heston nor Theron. Realistically, though, this was the last time they would all be together for Elia’s anniversary considering Theron’s health. Maybe they were finally willing to share their sadness, and maybe that meant they could find some comfort in it. Her stress must have been written all over her face as Iona felt Asa slide a hand over her own in support.

“There was this one time, Iona, you were staying over for a few days, and I was in the kitchen getting some food after a rather late night out,” Heston grinned. “Elia came sneaking in, all wrapped up in a huge robe like she was ready for bed. Obviously didn’t see me. She snatched a bottle of this,” he said, lifting his glass of raspberry liqueur, “And, crept back out. I followed behind her all the way through the palace. She was tip-toeing around, poking her head around corners. It was hilarious, she really thought she was getting away with something.” The mood in the room was already livening- maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. “I waited until she was maybe a hundred feet from her room, and came up behind her, and snatched the bottle right out of her hand. Her face,” Heston laughed, mimicking his sister’s panicked expression, “She was so shocked. She started whisper yelling at me, begging me not to tell you, Dad.” He had broken into a full on cackle, slapping his chest, “My little sister, so perfect, never breaking any rules. And here she was sneaking this nasty booze out of the pantry. I asked if it was your idea, Iona, but she insisted she was acting alone.”

“It was definitely my idea,” Iona confirmed, a smirk reaching from ear to ear.

“I knew it!” Heston proclaimed, pointing his finger at Iona.

“And what did you do with the bottle?” King Theron chimed in, raising his eyebrow.

“I took it right back to the pantry, of course.”

Iona shot Heston an incredulous look; he responded with an almost imperceptible head shake. But she knew how that story really ended. “No, you didn’t.” Heston’s eyes widened and his nostrils flared, a silent warning to Iona to hush. Iona expounded, “She didn’t tell me you caught her, but she definitely still had the bottle when she got back to the room. She got so drunk, she threw up all over the rug and we had to roll it up and hide it in a storage closet!”

Leo and Asa burst out laughing, while Heston leaned his head against the table to avoid Theron’s reprimanding, “You let Elia keep it?! You’re her eldest brother, Heston, you’re supposed to watch out for her!”

“Ah, come on, Dad, at that point, she was older than I was when I first got drunk. Plus, when did Elia ever do anything fun? She needed a little trouble in her life.”

Even Theron’s scolding rang empty as he broke into a chuckle along with the rest of the table. Asa jumped in next, telling a story about the first time Elia stayed for a weekend at the cottage. She was enthralled with the variety in Shome’s gardens and asked to have some seeds to take back to the palace. The next time she came out with Iona, Elia had brought back brand new leather gardening gloves for Shome and the highest quality cookware Asa had ever seen as payment. “Shome’s work gloves were completely worn through, and my pots and pans were scratched and stained. She must have noticed. But it was just a handful of seeds; I tried to explain there was no need to repay us, but she insisted. She was a very generous young woman, very thoughtful,” Asa affirmed.

Theron reminisced on Elia’s earliest days, how bubbly and happy she was as a baby. He spoke about how Elia would tug on his beard from where she sat in his lap during conferences with advisors and audiences with townspeople; how for a few years, it felt like half of his meetings were conducted in whispers because she’d fallen asleep in his arms. Leo talked about the time he went out to the stables for a ride just before sunrise, and Elia was out there already. She was walking stall to stall, checking on every horse and every foal.

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“I asked what she was doing, and she told me she was making sure they were all healthy. I told her we had a stable hand for that, but she said she felt personally responsible for keeping them all safe.” His voice got a little higher, trying to sound like Elia, “Dad’s the king, Heston’s the advisor, you fight. I take care of our home, which includes all the animals!”

“Remember how angry she was when we had to put down an injured filly?” Heston asked, turning to Theron. Theron whistled, “Oh yeah, that was so unlike her. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her angrier than that.”

“Oh, I have,” Iona mumbled, sipping on her liqueur. Iona looked around at all the eyes turned on her, as she realized she’d made the comment aloud.

“Is that so?” Leo inquired, “Please do tell.” Iona remained quiet. How stupid was she to say that? She was hoping to share some lighthearted quip about Elia, not this story. She just got caught up in the evening. “Yeah, come on, Iona, you haven’t gone yet!” Heston added.

Iona looked to her mom, who scrunched her nose and patted her hand in encouragement. The High Commander took a deep breath and chugged the rest of her drink, feeling uneasy at the thought of sharing. “Umm,” she started, with a sigh, “I haven’t ever told anyone this before so…” She filled her glass again. “As you all know, after Elia was engaged, Maselle offered to let me come along to Siminy as her lady in waiting. And obviously, I wanted to be an advisor or join their ranks, or something but he wouldn’t budge,” she shrugged, “So I accepted.”

Asa’s mouth dropped, Iona’s shoulders slumping with a little guilt. The men at the table all shared a similar look of confusion. “I didn’t tell anyone because I didn’t want Elia to find out, I knew she wouldn’t like it. But I promised her that I would go with her to Siminy, that I would always look out for her, and I was going to do that one way or another. Maselle must have let it slip cause the night before the caravan was set to leave Chrysos, Elia barged into my room, screaming, actually screaming, at me for lying to her. I remember being totally stunned, I didn’t even know she could yell that loud. I had told her he agreed to let me join his advisor’s staff, which I mean, wasn’t a total lie if you think about it. Elia would have been an advisor in a way, and I was going to be her staff..”

Iona could see it all so clearly, like the night was playing out right in front of her. Elia threw open her chest, all neatly packed, and started tossing her clothes around the room. “You’re not going to Siminy like this, Iona.”

“If I don’t go like this, I can’t go at all!” Iona ran around the room, gathering up her things and shoving them back in the chest, only for Elia to throw them out again.

“Then you’re not going!” Elia barked.

“Would you stop that?!” yelled Iona, “This is my choice! I’m going with you, and that’s it.”

Elia froze, holding a bundle of wrinkly shirts in her arms. She dropped them all on the floor and with the firmest tone she’d ever used with Iona, she stated, “You’re not going to Siminy. I have final say over all my staff, and you are not welcome among them.”

The women stared at each other for an eternity, tears in their eyes, facing the reality of being apart. “Please, Elia, don’t do this,” Iona entreated. Elia shook her head and walked forward, taking Iona’s hands in hers.

“And have you give up everything here to do what? Serve me? Do you believe me to be that selfish?” she asked.

Her question was backing Iona into a corner, “Come on, Elia…”

“I could never live with myself. You’re going to be the High Commander one day- whipping troops into shape, and telling everyone what to do, and protecting our home. You’re nobody’s lady in waiting.” Even if she wanted to argue, Iona didn’t have it in her. She knew it was a long shot that Elia would ever be okay with this. Maybe it was best to spend some quality time with her friend instead of arguing, if this was going to be it. Elia and Iona sat on the floor together for hours that night doing the same thing they were doing in the present- reminiscing, crying, comforting.

Iona’s story had pulled the joy right out of the room. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I probably should have told another story.” Asa caressed Iona’s hair, “No, it was beautiful, sweetheart. She was right, you did belong here.” Iona looked around the table and was met with nods from Heston and Leo. Her eyes caught on his, the tears making his eyes look like a fire under water.

“I agree, Elia was right to insist you stay here. And we’re all the better for having you with us.” Theron said, his words kind but his voice aching. He motioned to Heston, who helped him stand from his seat, “The time has come for us to move out to her burial site, and give our prayers.” Leaning on Heston, the King slowly exited the room, followed by Leo, Asa, and Iona.

When they arrived at the grave, each stepped up to Elia’s headstone in turn and rested a hand flush against the cold granite. It was tradition to mark the anniversary of a loved one’s passing with a private prayer to the North Forest, asking that the deceased find peace in their next life. Iona walked up her best friend’s grave and knelt before it, leaning her forehead against the icy, rigid stone despite the way it dug into her skin. Her prayer was simple: To the Gods of the North Forest, take care of my sister. Give her everything she deserved in this life and more.

She let her tears flow freely, collecting into the smallest of puddles at the base of the headstone. With a sharp breath in and long, controlled exhale, Iona stood and walked back. Sobs began forming in her throat, which she was unsuccessful in choking back. Standing shoulder to shoulder with Leo, she felt him wrap his arm around her waist. Grateful for the show of comfort, she leaned into him, his warmth bracing her against the chill. Leo bent his head down and whispered, “For what it’s worth, I think you would have made a terrible lady in waiting.”

Iona snickered, the teasing offering a welcome reprieve from her tears.

Tonight was not easy, but maybe this was the bit of closure she had been chasing for so long.