The room was empty.

Iona’s forehead wrinkled, confused at the absence of the King, Heston, maps strewn about and glasses of half drunk wine on the table. Where is everyone? It was almost midday, and the King knew she was arriving- surely someone would have notified him. She strode across the room, figuring the King must be in his adjoining office when she heard footsteps coming down the hall.

“We’re in the conference room at the end of the hall,” a deep timbre announced from the doorway. Iona’s lips pursed at the sound, her face shifting from confused to perturbed.

“Hello, Leo. I really had hoped we could get all this sorted out before you arrived,” she cooed, words saturated with contempt, as she looked over her shoulder at the second-born prince.

“Ah, yes, well as you very well know- emphasis on the very- Corso is much faster than Tower, so I got here over a day ago” Leo replied, flashing his wide smile which many would say was charming, though Iona found it irritating.

“Barely,” she growled back through gritted teeth. Leo and Iona had raced their horses many times over the years, since they were colts, so Iona was plenty familiar with the truth that Corso, Leo’s stallion, had an edge on Tower. He loved to remind her of it any chance he got. “And you were closer to the palace to begin with,” Iona added, as she turned and shoved past Leo through the doorway, heading to the conference room.

Why in the heavens are we not meeting in the war room? Is this not about the hostiles?

Iona could hear a bounce in Leo’s step as he followed close behind her, successful in his attempt to push her buttons. His loose fitting, black linen shirt, casual pants, and everyday boots told Iona that he was not prepared to leave the palace right away, so the meeting couldn’t be something too imperative or else he’d be dressed in riding gear. Seeing Leo for the first time in several years, Iona was reminded how much he’d matured into a striking adult, after many, many years as a gangly teen. Like Heston, he inherited King Theron’s herculean frame, though it took much longer for Leo to grow into it. His haughtiness increased to match, which got under Iona’s skin even more now than before. As they arrived at the conference room down the hall, Iona reached for the knob only for Leo to swing his arm around her from behind and beat her to it. Iona looked up at him, and scowled, “Seriously?”

“I'm just being a gentleman,” he said, laughing as he opened the door.

“You’re such a pain,” she responded, walking through the entryway to see King Theron seated at the head of a long, sturdy pine table that took up much of the space.

“Iona, finally!” Theron effused. Iona’s breath hitched, struck by how much the King had aged in such a short time. She tried not to let the surprise color her face, noting the cane leaning against the side of his chair, his shoulder-length white, wispy hair catching the breeze coming in through the window behind him. It had been ten years since she last saw him in person, and she was warned his health was in decline, but seeing him in such a fragile state was jarring. Iona rounded the corner of the table and bowed next to him in greeting, then took her usual seat to his left. Heston was seated on his right, and he leaned forward to give Iona a welcoming smile, while Leo slouched into the chair next to him.

“Let us begin,” the King commanded, catching Iona a bit off guard- she assumed that his four advisors would be here, too, for a matter that was so important she was called back from the field. But Theron took in a short, labored breath, and continued, “As you can all tell, I’m dying.” The princes and Iona shifted in their seats, uncomfortable with the truth being outed so bluntly. “Don’t pretend you can’t see it,” he chided, “The War took more of a toll on me than I would normally care to admit, but I don’t have time to lie to myself or to any of you about my state. The gods of the North Forest are calling me home, but I cannot leave quite yet. There is unfinished business to which we all must attend.”

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

Iona’s face mirrored the confused looks of Heston and Leo. “Construction efforts are going well, thanks to our High Commander,” Theron nodded at her, “And help from our allies. But there are still some hostile holdouts, and the current peace is fragile. It would be foolish for us to assume that there are no threats to us in other lands, and my untimely death could leave us vulnerable.” The King turned to his eldest, “Heston, my son, you’ve been a great advisor to me over the years, and you’ve enjoyed every freedom your position has had to offer. But it is past time for you to marry and produce an heir. We need to solidify the kingdom’s future, and you may be on the throne sooner than you’d like. After your coronation, your focus will be pulled in every direction, and you won’t have the time or energy to search for a bride.”

Eyes wide, Iona’s gaze shot to Heston, whose cheeks were starting to flush. Thanks to his title and remarkable good looks, the heir to the throne secured the affections of whoever he pleased- men and women, alike. He was, in Iona’s opinion, an avowed playboy. His father had never cared much since Heston was always attentive to his princely obligations, though the concept of marriage hung over him like a dark cloud. He dodged every question about it as something to deal with one day, but never in the present. Heston’s skin was both paler than porcelain and beaming red. Leo snorted, breaking the silence, and Iona’s head snapped to him.

“Heston? Married?!” Leo laughed aloud, “Even a king as great as yourself, father, will surely have a hard time finding someone Heston cares to settle down with.”

“Well, I won’t be having a hard time, Leonon. You will,” the King replied. Iona fought back a smile, savoring the way Leo’s face faded, followed by a cackle from Heston. Theron kept on, unfazed by his sons, “Heston will be busy preparing for his inevitable coronation, so I need you to take the lead on arranging an event- a ball. You shall work with my advisors to reach out to the courtiers in each domain, requesting they send eligible, suitable ladies and we will provide travel arrangements for them. You will coordinate closely with Iona, who will be in charge of all security measures.”

Iona had been reveling in the demotion of Leo from legion captain to party planner up until that point. Whoa, whoa, absolutely not. “Your majesty, with all due respect, I need to get back out in the field. Like you said, we have yet to locate the last of the hostiles, and I should be with my men in case of any attacks.”

“And when was the last attack, Commander?” Theron inquired.

Iona bit the side of her cheek, knowing where the question was leading, “Four months ago.”

“And were you there?”

She could tell it was now Leo who stifled a laugh, his hand resting over his mouth with a moronic grin hiding behind it. Asshole.

“No, your majesty, I was completing construction in another town.”

“And the result of the attack?”

“Four hostiles captured, three injuries, no fatalities.” There would be no winning this argument.

“Then it’s settled,” Theron responded, clapping his hands together in front of him. “You’ve trained your soldiers well, they can handle any skirmishes that arise without you.”

“But, sir, the rebuild-”

“-It’s my understanding King Ashrae sent troops over under Prince Desmond’s command,” he cut in, “And I’m sure they can continue the work in the meantime.” I guess that’s that.

Iona nodded, less than pleased with her new charge, but even just in the company of his sons, she would not continue to argue with the King. Theron motioned to Heston for assistance standing then settled both hands on his cane in front of him, “You have three months from today. You’re all dismissed.”

And with that, Iona, too, had been downgraded from leader of Chrysos’ armies to co-party planner.