Princess Rivalee (First Draft: 89 pages!)

Princess Rivalee

As Riva closed the door behind her she sighed loudly and gazed happily around her study. Dropping the lady-like air, she flopped on to the large cushions stationed in the center of the room. Reveling in the silence, she lay gazing at the stone walls and ceiling. Boredom quickly set in and she sat up, unsure of what to do. Her chest felt empty and knotted at the same time.

Abruptly she stood, casting around for something to distract her. She tried embroidery but her mind wandered too easily, so she turned to the one thing that could calm her: Studies. She moved over to her desk to finish the assignments she had been given that day. Protocol, etiquette, dancing, singing, embroidery etc... consisted of her day to day lessons, and she had perfected every one of them by the age of ten. Some she had had to practice over time to keep in pristine condition, but in general she could recite every lesson by heart.

She felt secure, completing what was expected quickly and efficiently, retaining any and all information the first time. Her speed, however, gave her a large amount of free time; it would take less than an hour to finish all of her assignments.

Riva would spend hours in the library, trying to find something interesting to fill her time. No one bothered to tutor her in the things she found important. For now, she had chosen magic.

Unfortunately, the Royal Library did not have a wide selection on her chosen topic.

She had smuggled several books from the Court Magician's personal library, not an easy thing to do as he was, after all, a magician. Riva had had to wait for the precise moment to literally shove the door open (it had been particularly difficult) and slip in and out with a book under her arm. Riva prided herself in being a strong reader but from the Royal Library. She had found that many authors idea of magic was jumbled, conflicting, and not in any way enlightening. So she had been forced to turn to a new and more reliable source. According to many books the Art of Magic was inherited by blood and birthright. Even out of those who were gifted, very few could actually perform at a level that was considered true magic.

Riva however had no interest in actually performing magic, she was simply curious. The fact that the Court Magician had placed spells on her study made her uncomfortable. She wanted to understand what he had done, how he had done it, and if she had a say in the matter. Riva grinned as she read, if was unknown she would be the first to know it.

At least that’s how it was supposed to be.

Riva threw herself on to the soft sofa, practically screaming in frustration. The books were so technical! Many expanded on meaningless ingredients, rituals, ancient language and times. The reality that she had no experience in the area did not make it any easier; she had to guess on what the images the books were trying to create. After countless hours of discontent and confusion, she finally found an author whom she could connect with.

The Inner Workings of a Mage had been written by Kadric, a mage who had traveled to several countries, and written about a fabled “Universal Magic.” Apparently he had found a connection between every countries’ type of magic. According to Kadric all magic stemmed from energy inside of the caster, after that it depended on the form desired. Mages would also use objects, words, plants or even animals to assist them in their spells. The only flaw with Kadric were the many ‘therefores’ and ‘hithertos’ in his writing. This encouraged Riva to take notes, so she wouldn’t have to read the book twice.

Riva stood, stretched her stiff muscles and fingers, and gazed outside.

The sun was setting? Was it already so late? The orange light shone through her glass balcony doors and onto the stone floor and walls; it made the room look warm, a writing desk in one corner with ink and quill, a large sofa in front of the fireplace, large tapestries and rugs and a large chest tucked away.

It wasn't really a study, more of a safe haven, a place where no one could touch her. The Court Magician and the King were the only other people who had access to her room and they had never bothered. After the age of six or seven, there was no need to babysit her anymore and although she was formally known as the Crown Princess Rivalee of Alsteare, she never did many duties around the castle. There was no need and no desire from any party for her to do so.

Pushing these thoughts away she turned to the glass doors and pushed them open rather dramatically. Part of her mind told her she was being silly, but she didn’t care. If she felt like being dramatic then she would be. As she sun set she sang, it was from an opera where the heroine loses her love and is mourning his death. In an eerie way, it belonged with the setting sun.

The soft melody melted away with the wind, and as the last rays fell, the song ended.

Glorious silence.

“You sing beautifully. What is that song called?” a voice whispered behind her.

Riva’s heart leapt so violently against her chest, she thought it might have left a bruise. “Who- who are you?” She was so used to being alone in her study, that this new contact shattered her sense of security.

Leaning casually on the balcony, as if he had nothing to do with her panicking heart, was a young man with dark cropped hair, cloudy eyes and a one-sided boyish grin. Straightening, he bowed. “I am Glen, Captain of the Third Company in his Majesty’s Army. And you must be Princess Rivalee.” He was completely at home, polite-yes, but entirely comfortable talking to a princess.

Riva found it a little unnerving.

Realizing he had asked her a question, she nodded stiffly in response. He cocked his head to one side when there was no audible answer. “The song? What was it?

Shock and embarrassment flooded her face, feeling very self-conscious she found her voice and continued to explain the opera along with the translation of the song.

Glen listened with polite and quiet interest, sighing when she finished. “I haven’t seen many operas. When the war is over I’ll have to see that one.”

Riva nodded. She’d heard about the coming battle, a war to end all wars. Sealidan and Alsteare had been at each other’s throat for over a century and the battles between the two countries were on and off all the time. Her father had gathered enough men to penetrate deep into Sealidan  and take the capital, hopefully end the war. With the King of Sealidan off the throne the nobles would be more willing to surrender to a new monarch.

Pushing those thoughts away, she asked, “What operas have you seen?”

Their conversation lasted well into the night; they talked about the arts, books, or poems. For a soldier she found him surprisingly well educated. He admitted that his mother had died when he was young and most of his childhood had been spent begging. Recounting several stories where he had almost been caught stealing, describing the hunger and his conditions. He didn’t find this embarrassing or too delicate to speak about. Riva found it refreshing and insightful- if somewhat horrifying, she couldn’t believe some of the conditions peasants had to live in. No one had ever bothered to tell her about the lowlifes of the palace or the city.

Silently Riva thanked him for his honesty, at the moment she was no longer ‘Princess Rivalee of Alsteare’ but just ‘Riva.’ “How did you get into the army?” Riva asked, her curiosity peaked.

Glen laughed as he recalled memory. “I took a dare from one of my friends and tried to steal from a soldier—” Riva’s eyes widened and Glen chuckled at her expression. “Not a good idea, that, and of course I was caught. The soldier turned out to be a fine and good man and he saw something in me.” His voice softened as he continued, “He pulled some strings and got me into one of the best barracks the Palace can offer. There I not only learned how to be a soldier but how to read and write. I showed some capability and so they trained me to be a commander. Anyway thanks to the army I made a little money and could actually try out some of the things that I’d— ” A cool night breeze made Riva shudder and Glen smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry, Princess. It’s getting late and I should take my leave.” He bobbed his head quickly and turned to leave.

Before Riva could stop herself, she said, “Wait!” Glen stopped with one leg over the stone railing. Riva couldn’t help but grin at his position and the blank look on his face. “You’ll come again? I really enjoyed talking with you.”

Glen bowed graciously. “As my Princess wishes,” he murmured, grinning devilishly. Without a second glance, he slipped over the edge and into the silence.

*****

Life went about as usual, but time seemed to slow to the pace of a snail struggling up a wall. For the first time in her life, Riva had the intense desire to tell someone, anyone, about her new experience. The day dragged on and while it had been monotonous but bearable before, now it was tedious and infuriating. Night couldn’t come fast enough, maybe-

“Princess!”
Riva’s head snapped up and she sat as straight as her spinal cord would allow.
Her tutor scrutinized her, “Princess, what is wrong with you today? You are being completely disrespectful and unfocused.” He huffed out a quick breath.
Blood rushed to Riva’s cheeks, she had never been so inattentive to a mentor and words stung badly. “I’m sorry,” She mumbled, making a properly repentant expression.
The instructor sniffed, bringing his book back to his nose. “As long as you understand, now as I was saying-” and off he went on the proper ways to greet a visiting dignitary.
Riva bit her lip to keep in a sigh that was begging to be released.

But when night finally fell, there was no sign of her new acquaintance.

Riva pulled her big coat around her tighter and continued to search the ever darkening grounds. After three hours, she finally admitted to herself that he wasn’t coming. Tomorrow. She promised herself. Tomorrow. He’ll come. That bit of hope kept her eyes dry.

Tomorrow he wasn’t there, same with the next day and the next. The goofy grin that had been plastered to her face after the first day began to sag and eventually left her face all together. He had forgotten her, or had he? Was it something she had said? Was it because she was a princess? Had she said something to offend him or make him think she was shallow?

She started to analyze the conversations between them, trying to understand what fault he had found. All motivation to do her work drifted away and she found herself staring out the window often. Most nights she would go out and sing, hoping that he would hear her. Her only real distraction where her studies in magic, which was making slow progress.

One night she drifted to sleep leaning on the balcony. Glen poked her face, groggily she raised her head, her cheek numb and sticking to the fur of her coat. “Wha?” She looked up into Glen’s grinning face.

“GLEN!” Excitement bubbled over and she hugged him tightly.

Taken aback by her affront Glen staggered backward, one arm around Riva and the other grasping the banister for balance. “Well, don’t kill before the Sealidans can.”

Riva loosened her grip, becoming aware of how inappropriate her action had been. Despite her embarrassment she was grinning, elation was flowing through her. “What took you so long? It’s been almost three weeks! Why didn’t you visit sooner?” An edge was creeping into her voice and she already knew that she sounded like a spoiled child whining loudly. She bit her lip, chastising herself.

Glen sighed, “I’m sorry, Riva, but we are preparing for war. There just wasn’t any time, I have my men and I have to take my turn in some of the less desired assignments. It’s only fair.” He released her and sat on the banister and leaned back, balancing more precariously than Riva would like.

Now that Riva had calmed down she looked at him and noticed the dark circled eyes. He also looked like he was getting sick; his voice was rough and scratchy.

She frowned, “What’s going on?”

Glen’s response lacked fervor. “Well, your father wants to leave as soon as winter is out. We’ll be launching a full frontal attack. It’s a lot of preparations that need to be put together.” He shook his head and waved a hand dismissively, “But you already know all of this-”

“No... No, I don’t. The King doesn’t involve me in his war councils.” Why should he?

Glen looked genuinely shocked. “I thought you were the Crown Princess. Aren’t you taking the throne once your father dies?”

Riva nodded, “I am, but that doesn’t mean I’m ruling the country. My father will find a man who has the abilities to become a good and strong leader, with connections and possibly wealth. Then I will marry him and he will rule the country. Until then the King’s Council has the power to rule. I don’t want to rule, Glen, even if I had the choice or even knew how.” Riva had always known this was to be her life. It her duty and fate. It had been settled long before she was old enough to even understand. Who was she to change it? “I’m just the face, to represent royalty.” she added as an afterthought. “I’ve never had any real power to begin with.”

Glen clenched his jaw shut.

He’s angry. Riva thought, confused. She studied his face trying to draw meaning from the way he held himself.

Thick brows met over his stormy eyes, darkly he muttered. “This is just ridiculous.” He stood abruptly, pacing. “What do you know how to do?” He shook his head and apologized. “That wasn’t what I meant, I mean as the face of Alsteare, what are your duties? What are they training you to do?”

Quickly Riva outlined her classes, what the basic idea was behind each one and how it was supposed to relate. She also mentioned some of her own studies.
“Wait, wait- you are teaching yourself magic?” Glen’s eyes widened in amazement, momentarily distracted.
Riva nodded matter-of-factly, “Well, the theory anyway. I’ve also studied Geology, Navigation, Engineering, Mathematics (From the Nurvians mostly), construction and architecture, some smithing and a little sailing- although I don’t really understand those ones, as I’ve never been to the ocean- and... I don’t know. Whatever strikes my fancy.” She concluded, “The library is open to me.”
Glen looked somewhat placated, but sill frustrated. “But you’ve never actually-”
“Done any of them? No, just read about them and seen pictures.” She sighed. “I have a very firm grasp of how things should be, not necessarily of how they actually are.” Glen’s lips twitched upward. Why does he think that’s funny?
But the moment was gone, “Have you ever been outside of the palace?”
Riva thought she detected a demeaning tone but was unsure, either way she bristled at the question. “Of course, I have! I’ve been out to enjoy the entertainment on Festival days. I’m not a prisoner you know.” She turned away slightly to hide her expression, regretting those last words.
Glen was silent and slumped. “I just don’t believe it. You are the Princess! Heir to the throne! You will rule Alsteare and they have taught you how to curtsy and embroidery?”
Riva turned to defend herself but stopped short. When she had first seen Glen she could never have imagined his boyish grin to be twisted in anger, cloudy eyes blazing.
“It’s an insult to Alsteare’s people and an insult to you.” He was trying to tell her something. Riva could see it in his eyes, it was like he was pleading with her to see what he could see. She shook her head completely baffled. Why couldn’t he just take a deep breath and tell her? Why did he have to flare up?
“But the Council will keep our affairs in order, why should I need to know how to rule, when I don’t even want to? When I am married we will have a proper king and all will be well.” Yes, she assured herself. That is the best way. It’s worked for centuries and should be this way.
Glen visibly relaxed and cooled. He swallowed and didn’t say anything for a long time. He looked hurt, confused, shocked and angry all at the same time. It made Riva’s stomach knot and ache in fear, anxiety and concern.
Finally he lifted his eyes and bore into her, softly he said, “How can you leave thousands of people’s lives in the hands of fate?” But I’m not!- “How can you trust the Council?” They are- “Have you met them?” Well, no. “Do you know them? Would you place your life in their hands?” He took a breath, voice starting to rise and Riva was started to feel that her pitiful protests were useless. “Don’t you feel the need to DO something?! To take your life in your own hands?”
Honestly? No. She had never had any such desire. She had been perfectly content with life up to this point. All had been planned, all had been prepared for. She didn’t need to lift a finger.
His eyes were desperately searching hers, trying to see the same passion that he had. Riva stepped back, she had never seen him like this. She swallowed and dropped her eyes, unsure of how to respond. She needed to think, analyze the situation. The guilt that was eating at her was unnecessary. She had no reason to feel that she had done something wrong. Glen was at fault not she. She was doing all that was required of her. She turned to him, but didn’t meet his eyes. “I think it’s time for you to leave.” she whispered.
Glen stiffened. While she kept her eyes down Riva could feel bitter disappointed emulate from him. “I supposed so, good night, Princess Rivalee.” He bent into an appropriate bow for royalty and by the time Riva had the courage to lift her eyes, he was gone.

*****

Time still passed slowly, but this time it wasn’t out of impatience. Instead it was misery and self-loathing. Riva had never had this problem before Glen had showed up. Riva began to comb over her life, looking for times when she had acted badly. There weren’t many. But then she went through again and looked for times when she had acted above and beyond expectations. There weren’t many. She started to read the histories of Kings and Queens before her, trying to understand the motivations behind the terrible and commendable deeds of their times.

Who was she?

Among the servants she was known as Rivalee the Silent. Her title had never bothered her before. Silence had been her solace, now she wasn’t so sure. What did the servants think? What did her people think? How did they think she should act? Did they want to her to be the kind of Queen that stories told of? Did they expect that of her?

Glen had expected it and now he was gone, never to come back.

She hadn’t expected him to. She had acted poorly, not considering his view. He had grown up with literally nothing, hearing stories of Kings and Queens and how they were kind, loving and caring. He had expected more.

The gossip in general was depressing. Riva could never trust it. She didn’t want to believe it was true. It brought back painful memories. Still, after classes Riva would wander the halls, silently listening to the talk of the servants. Trying to understand their lives, their desires and their view of life. Were they like Glen? Did they grab life? Take it into their own hands?

“Excuse me, sir. Why are we at war with Sealidan?”

Her etiquette teacher paused, taken aback. He snapped his book shut and took of his glasses and then looked at her closely. “Why do you want to know?”

She cocked her head to one side, wanting to give an answer that captured her motivations. “Because I don’t know, and I feel like that is something that everyone should know. We are after all, at war with them. Shouldn’t we know why we are sending our young men out to die and taxing our kingdom into poverty?” (She had gleaned this information form the servants.)

Her etiquette teacher blinked, expression void. “Part of it is that we know no other way, we’ve been fighting with Sealidan for so long that it’s become a part of lives. We hate them and they hate us. We kill them and they kill us. Children fueled by hate and memory of their deaths will take up the banner. It’s a cycle that is hard to break unless one side wins and even then-” he shrugged. “it’s unlikely that all the children raised thinking ‘Alsteare is the enemy’ will simply lay down their anger and hate. To tell you the truth, I’m unsure of how this all began and I don’t see the relevance. We are too far gone. I do know that Sealidan has the same idea as your father. It’s take-over or nothing. The war has lasted long enough and now it is time to finish it, once and for all. No more petty border disputes.” He stood silent for a while, lost in his own thoughts. Riva took the time to gather her own before he launched back into his lecture.

During all of her classes she started to ask her instructors their opinions, about the war, about the system of government, about other kingdoms, economy, the Council, anything.

There were only two subjects with which she gave a wide berth.

First: What had happened to the Queen, her mother?

Second: Why was she kept so well hidden?

She knew the rumors, of course, but rumors were not truth. They were not proven.

*****

One of her first actions as a reformed Princess (It helped to think of herself as a different person, reborn if you will.) was to loiter in the kitchens. Chaos and talk reigned here- and a fierce, plump woman that was known simply as Cook. The constant work kept nosy servants in their own business and not in Riva’s. It allowed the Princess to simply observe, sipping at the soup that was to cure her stuffed nose.

After all of the questions and contemplation on the Kingdom itself and on how it should be ruled and the problems it faced. Riva couldn’t help but draw a parallel between it and the kitchen. Here cook was the Queen, she made all final decisions and had to quickly fix any and all major problems that couldn’t be solved by her underlings. There were those she trusted with certain areas of the kitchen, a baker, sous chef, pastry chef, etc... here were her nobles. They in turn were in charge of others. There was a loosely formed hierarchy among the rest. Those who had more experience were in charge, even if they were younger.

Riva quickly noticed that there weren’t many problems that made it to Cook, no one wanted to get in range of her ladle. There were liberal whacks and whumps, when someone low in the hierarchy came with a problem or question that could’ve been solved by going somewhere else.

It took several days for Riva to finally spot Cook’s second in command. He was a thin older man and the only variance in his expressions was a blink or twitch of a lip or eyebrow. He had a calm, serious and relaxed demeanor. It was a complete contrast to Cook. Although he had very little to actually do in the kitchen he seemed to be in complete synchronization with the kitchen and with Cook. He understood how things fit together, how people would work together.

He’s the real force behind all of this. Riva shook her head in disbelief. Does the King have someone like him? Someone in the background, quietly making things go smoothly?

After a few days when the servants got used to her presence, Riva started to quietly ask questions. Innocent ones, how did this or that work? She always looked for those who could work and talk at the same time, well aware of Cook’s all seeing and glaring eyes. Ergil (second in command) was an excellent source of information and had insights that Riva had never considered. She would often talk with him for hours on end, trying to glean as much as she could from his experiences.

Riva found it easier to talk with Ergil than with some of the younger servants. They were painstakingly aware of the enormous gap in social standing and intelligence and their minds were constantly on the opposite sex. Besides she was used to talking to old men, all of her instructors were old men.

“Do you think I could help?” Riva asked once.

Ergil smiled-the kind he only showed to her- understanding the feeling of being completely useless. “I’m afraid you would be more of a hindrance than a help, Princess. These people are trained to do this. You are not. Let them do their work and you do yours.” Under his breath he whispered, “Cook would probably have a fit if you tried to peel potatoes.”

Riva couldn’t help but imagine cutting her own finger open on one of the sharp knives and having Cook red-facing and huffing flutter around her, terrified she’d lose her position. Riva put a hand over her mouth, covering her smile.

Ergil gave her a look, by the way his mouth was tightened she could tell he was laughing inside too. (She had learned from a young age to read adults’ slightest expressions. Many would say one thing when they meant another.)

Sighing, Riva put her head in her hand. “Ergil, how am I supposed to get to know people if they won’t let me talk to them?”

“You don’t need to get to know them.”

Riva perked up a question in her eyes.

He continued. “That is not the role of a ruler: to know every single subject. Just to do what is best for the realm. You need people who will speak in their stead, others who know them. You can’t possibly do all of the listening yourself.”

Riva grinned wryly, “Like you do?”

He nodded.

“I would still like to know what it’s like to know...” She drifted off, musing to herself.

As if Ergil could hear her wistful thoughts he called, “Mira!”

A small stout girl with dark hair pulled in a bun about the age sixteen, left her rushing about and came to him. “What is it?”

“Mira this is Riva, she wishes to accompany you as you look for supplies in the market today. Would you be willing to take her along?”

Riva was impressed, he was both rewarding her and punishing her. She couldn’t dare refuse and yet he put it in a polite tone that made her think she had the choice. I really need to study diplomacy. Riva muttered fiercely to herself.

Mira wrung her hands, but agreed.

Riva had been able to borrow a worn but clean set of servants garb as she wasn’t to go out with an escort and she certainly didn’t want to attracts attention to herself. Mira was nervous and jumpy the entire time, but Riva just smiled and tried to remain calm despite the butterflies thrashing about in her stomach.

The city itself was stinky and smelly. The roads were sloshy with mud and snow. Riva moved slowly, trying to take in everything. She felt sorry for Mira, who was hopping from foot to foot, ill at ease with a princess and chores to be doing. Ergil wouldn’t be angry though, Riva was sure. Beggars seemed to smell money from miles away, they would throng around them. Riva who had never had any dealing with beggars before watched and talked to them with open curiosity. Mira shooed them away and kept her wallet and basket well out of reach. Many had rags on their feet for shoes, Riva could count ribs between the holes cloth of their shirts. It brought tears to her eyes. She imagined Glen in place of one of the boys and reached for her own purse, but she hadn’t brought one.

She bit her lip hard, wanting to do something.

Mira grabbed her arm and pulled her away. Whispering angrily, “They’ll rob ya blind, have ye no sense!?”

Riva just sighed.

City-people had no time, they had business to do and unless you are a customer you’d better watch out. Those who did stop and chat rarely had anything intelligible to say. Riva followed Mira and watched the haggling in the stalls. Smell and colors assaulting her, it was overwhelming.

Riva convinced Mira to take her to all the districts of the city, just to walk around. She wanted to get a feel for the type of people who lived there. Mira didn’t say anything aloud, but Riva could see the worry. She didn’t want to get in trouble with Cook.

Riva’s favorite was the Trader’s District. It had cobblers, smithies (these were always warm), leather workers, carpenters, jewelers, potteries, and all kinds of people who worked with their hands. They stopped at temples and Mira would quickly give a description so of each god or religion. Riva herself had never had a need to believe in a supreme beings. Now as she looked up into the faces of the serene statues she began to wonder.

“Which district is this?” Riva asked noticing the change in the style of housing.

“Military.” Mira informed her gloomily.

Stomping alerted them of a platoon coming from their left.

“Glen!” Riva yelled. She gasped and wished that she could disappear. Dread sinking in.

His head turned and his eyes widened. He muttered something to a uniformed man next to him and then yelled several names. Glen brought marched forward with six men and the rest of the platoon continued on their way.

“Princess,” He swept into a bow and snapped stiffly into attention.

She curtsied automatically and introduced Mira. He bowed and Mira attempted to curtsy. Riva kept her eyes down, heart pumping furiously, her face red hot.

“Princess, you shouldn’t be out here.” He signaled to his men and they fell in around her. “We will escort you back to the palace.”

Riva’s head came up. “Why shouldn’t I be out here? I have every right to see the city as you do-”

The creases between Glen’s brows softened, in a quiet but firm voice he said, “There have been rumors of spies among the men. I’m willing to trust their word, especially after the skirmish we had only a week ago.”

“Spies?” Riva whispered, shocked.

Glen nodded, brooding. “I don’t think it’s safe for you out here.” He stayed close to her side, left hand over his sword checking to make sure it was clear of it’s scabbard. “It’s unlikely that they would try anything in the open but-” He took in her appearance. “who would notice a maid among many going missing?” His eyes raked the people they passed, his men closed in tighter around them.

“Surely no one would recognize me. I never go outside.” Riva whispered, also looking at the crowds with new eyes.

Glen just pursed his lips.

“Glen-” Riva started, but by then it was too late. They were rushing up the steps to the palace. Glen spoke with the guard and they were through.

“Glen, do you have any proof? Do you have any idea of who they are-”

“All I can tell you is that someone very high up has been leaking numbers and plans.” Glen interrupted hurriedly, glancing around nervously. “Now hush, I have to take you to your father.”

Blood drained form Riva’s face. She had completely forgotten about the King and the consequences of her actions. “No- No, Glen, please take me back to my study or- or the kitchens, please-”

“Haven’t you been paying attention? We’ve been summoned to the throne room.” He looked down at her. Her expression had gone blank, dull. He laid a hand on her shoulder willing strength into her. “Come on, stand up straight. He’s only your father.”

“You can only say that because he’s not your father.” She whispered. The huge doors opened. Her head came up, back straightened and despite her, stinky and muddy clothes, she looked utterly regal.
Glen stepped back, in awe. It was like she was a different person.

Her expression was strong, yet aloof, calm and composed. She knelt before the king. Back still straight as a board, head up in defiance.

The King’s face, in contrast, was heavy and weary. Shoulder length white hair curled from under his crown. He had a hand on his chin, eyes glowering. He was dressed in furs. The palace was not as warn as it had been earlier in the day. A massive broadsword was leaning against the throne within easy reach.

The silence in the room was deafening and it lasted for a solid minute.

Neither the Kind of the Princess moved.

“Why...” the deep bass of the King broke the spell. “Why were you gallivanting through the city in a time of WAR? Why have you been neglecting your studies and WHY-” he paused to stand, only growing more intimidating. “Why are you dressed as a servant in your own castle?” His voice echoed through the hall, falling and any and all ears.

Riva winced once and went still.

Silence reigned.

In a much calmer voice the King continued, “You are not to leave your study again. The Court Magician has knowledge enough to continue your education. He will also bring you meals and anything else you require.” His voice went cold and soft. “I never thought I would see such a degrading act from you.” With that he turned away, waving his hand.

It was a clear dismissal. Riva stood with only a slight tremble and made her way to the great doors. her head was still erect, eyes straight ahead. But as soon as she out of the King’s sight, Glen saw tears and her shoulders slump in defeat.

*****

The couch in her study was removed and a bed was brought. But the room wouldn’t let it in. he servants would reach the doorway and hit a barrier. After the intensity of her meeting with the King it was all she could do to keep from giggling. She was so relieved to be away that giggles kept wanting to slip out.
The servants did not have the same opinion about magic, many made signs with their hand to ward off evil. Others shifted around like lost sheep, having nothing to do. They had to do the will of the King but the proximity to magic could make anyone edgy.
Riva was baffled by their attitudes. Amazing how simply understanding how a thing works, takes all the mystery and terror out of it.

Eventually the Court Magician himself was summoned. He was plump, wispy gray hair sprouted from the edged of a bald head. His form was large and bulky. Riva didn’t think that magic was the only weapon he knew how to wield.

With a face screwed up in concentration, he waved his hands and the warm feeling of security, that had been a constant presence within the room, vanished.

Riva shifted in her plump chair uncomfortably. She already missed the warmth of the tapestries, the steady reassurance of the stone walls. It was like someone had violated her sanctuary. No one had set foot in her study for nearly ten years, and with a wave of a hand it was all gone.

The bizarre desire to giggle was gone, Riva seriously contemplated the power of the Court Magician, the power of any magician and the power of kings. These men could take everything from her if they wanted. Her father could kick her to the street, leaving her to be like a one of the many beggars she had seen, or worse. The Magician could do any number of dastardly things to her, things she couldn’t even begin to comprehend. For a moment she understood the fear the servants showed in before magic, before a king and even before her.

She looked up to the Magician who was eyeing the servants with mild interest. He had turned her solace into a prison. She swallowed, desperately wanting the comfort of the magic spell he had removed.
The servants left one by one, but the Magician hesitated. “Those are my books!”
Riva gasped. She had completely forgotten. “Yes, please forgive me, I only wished to borrow them.” Standing, she hurried over to her desk and collected the books.
“How did you ever get them?” The Magician asked with pure curiosity, not a hint of anger in his voice or expression.
Riva frowned, confused by his question. “Well, I went into your study when you weren’t there... and took them.”
“You didn’t run into any... problems.” He probed cryptically.
Riva considered. “I seemed to have a hard time opening the door, it was rather sticky. You must remind the servants to give it a good cleaning. Took me nearly ten whole minutes to get it open, I was exhausted by the end.” She murmured, attempting to recall that day’s events.
“Interesting.” The Magician mumbled, he stroked at his beardless chin. After a moment he examined her with dark piercing eyes. “You know I thought that someone... else had gotten a hold of these. Someone much more dangerous. It eases my mind that they were in your possession the entire time...” He drifted off, still deep in thought. He seem perturbed by something. A few times he opened his mouth and then closed it. Riva waited anxiously, she had no idea how to act around this man. Finally he shook his head. “I believe I will take my leave, Princess.” He bowed and began to leave.
Riva bit her lip, desire and fear fighting within her. Desire won. “Please, do you think you could leave The Inner Workings of a Mage? I really have been enjoying it.”
His eyebrows went up. “You... are interested in magic, Princess? And you’ve been studying it?” He eyed the books that she had collected. “Obviously.”
“Yes, the concept.”

“Only the concept?” He chucked, his large belly bouncing up and down. “My dear girl, did you know that my study and your study have similar protections and wards? Simply knowing the concept is not enough to bypass them.” He settled down into a plump chair across from her. “You have the gift of magic.”

Huh? Riva stared blankly.

It took a full six seconds for it to sink in. Riva shook her head as if to clear out her ears. “What?”

“You have the gift of magic.” Straight, simple. She didn’t detect any sign of deception.

“That’s impossible-”

“Why are you denying it? You felt it when I took down the spell on your study. You were able to get past my spells. The only logical explanation is that you are blessed with magic.” Frustration drew his eyebrows together.

Riva said nothing. She hadn’t really expected anything like this. A thought struck her and she went pale. “What does this mean-” she swallowed, “my parents... who are they?” She whispered both terrified of the answer and needing the closure at the same time.

The Court Magician’s expression fell. He understood what she was implying.

According to the books she had read, magic was passed down from parent to child. It didn’t have to be much, but it still had to be present. Riva knew that the King had no magic to speak of. But the Queen...

She looked up hopefully, but the Magician’s tearful eyes made her heart sink.

The condemnation came in a whisper. “I tested the Queen for magic myself. She didn’t have any.”

Riva swallowed back tears and nodded. “Then it’s true? The rumors? I’m not-” Her face contracted, sobs escaped from her trembling lips. She hid her face in her hands, not wanting to show her twisted agony. Tears dripped steadily from her hands. Her sobs became louder and she lost control of her body striking out at the cushions.

The Magician laid a comforting hand on her shoulder for a moment and left her to herself and the safety of her study.

*****

Riva mourned, crying until she didn’t think there were any tears left.

Rumors had plagued her since she was old enough to understand them. When the Queen had become pregnant she started behaving strangely, leaving at odds hours of the night, messages that were to be for her eyes only. Whispers went through the castle that the baby wasn’t the King’s and that she feared his wrath. She was plotting to leave with the real father, but when she died in childbirth there was no way to see if the rumors were true. The Queen had burned all of the letters and messages she had received. There was no evidence either way.

A few years later, after Riva’s first wet-nurse had died, the midwife who had helped the Queen with the birth asked the audience from the King. The two spoke privately behind thick doors, but the King emerged furious screaming, “I knew she was unfaithful! I knew that child couldn’t have been mine! She doesn’t even look like me!”

The midwife was banished, escorted out of the city that night.

Riva had always hoped, hoped that there had been no truth in the gossip. There were signs of course, she looked nothing like the King. She was the completely opposite of him in physicality and in behavior. Whoever her real father was had had magic had passed it on to her. She could feel the energy that throbbed in her study’s walls and knew that the Magician hadn’t lied.

She was the illegitimate child of the Queen and the only reason she was tolerated was because he had no other heir.

The thought brought on another onslaught of emotion and tears. She cried and sobbed into her brand new pillows, staining the satin with her salty sorrow. (Who’s impressed with that alliteration!!?) The day passed filled with thoughts of self-pity and loathing, she drifted in and out of a restless sleep.

A brisk tap on her paned doors brought her out of a thick sleep. Wearily she threw on a heavy coat and went to the balcony doors. She opened them a crack, not wanting to let in the cold air. “Glen?” She whispered, not knowing who else it could be.

“Hey, you enjoying your punishm-” he took in her appearance and thought better of the remark. “Riva? Are you okay?” He reached for her, but her study kept the barrier firm between them.

Riva snapped, “Oh, let him in. He won’t do me any harm.”

Surprisingly (to Riva at least) the room obliged and Glen hopped into the room, shedding his own heavy coat. He took a quick look around getting his bearings. Riva turned away and went to sit by the fire. He eyes were swollen and red, nose was stuffed up and running at the same time. She did not want Glen to see her like this, but she couldn’t very well leave him in the cold.

She curled up in the soft chair, stuffed full of goose feathers, and sniffled quietly still feeling miserable.

“Riva?” Glen crouched in front of her. “What’s wrong? I thought you liked your study-”

“Oh, it’s not that.” Riva interjected harshly. She was so tired and grumpy. It was very uncomfortable, she never behaved this way with anyone and it was making her say things that she’d rather keep to herself. Taking a deep breath she tried to gain control of her emotions. “I’m sorry, it’s not the study. It’s-” She bit her lip fighting yet more tears. “I found out that I, uh... I um...” She started to sob.

Glen was next to her offering his arms. She curled into him instinctively, allowing him to wrap his arms around her. Thankful rather than aware of the human contact. He rocked her gently, stroking her matted hair.

When she finally had control of herself she pulled back and wiped at her nose, embarrassed. “I’m sorry.” She let out a shuddering breath and looked up at him. He smoothed back her hair and wiped away the rest of the tears.

“There, better?” He asked, cloudy eyes full of concern.

She nodded, relieved that he hadn’t said anything about her runny nose.

Suddenly they were both aware of their proximity to each other. The chair was only meant to hold one person. Riva stood at the same time Glen made a move to slip away.

Riva went to her chest and found a brush and began untangling the knots in her hair. Glen moved to the fire, his face pink and warm (but whether that was from the fire or not was still undetermined).

Riva snuck glances at him and the silence grew.

“It’s snowing.” Glen offered, inviting Riva accept his feeble attempt to break the ice.

Riva smiled, an obvious acceptance, “Did you want to go out in the snow?” she teased.

“Nah, just thought you should know...” he drifted off, muttering under breath and blushing a bright red.

He thinks he’s crossed the line between soldier and royalty. It was one thing to talk innocently outside on the balcony. She sighed inwardly. And he thinks that I’m a princess. But I’m not, I never was

“Glen, thank you.” Their eyes met and she dropped hers quickly. “Thank you for being here. I just... I needed it.”

A question formed in Glen’s eyes.

Haltingly Riva explained the conversation she had had with the Court Magician and what his observations entailed.

“I’m not really a princess, Glen. I never was.”

Glen didn’t respond, his expression was one deep in thought.

“I don’t agree.” His eyes met her and he grinned. “From what I saw, you were more of a queen today than you’ve ever been. I mean-” he realized that she might take offense and tried to explain. “More of a queen than-” he shook his head and started again. “You were amazing. The way you faced your father was impressive, very few of my own men could stand with such dignity.”

Warmth spread through Riva and she pulled her knees tight to her chest.

“Now,” Glen began in a business manner, standing. “lets see if we can teach you some more practical subjects. What would you like to learn first: self-defense, starting a fire, a little cooking, do you know how to ride?”

Riva was more than a little stunned. The sudden change in subject has pulled her from dreamy thoughts.  “Why would I need to know any of those?”

“My dear,” he began as if talking to a rather dull person, “the world would be a much happier place if everyone knew how to take care of themselves. Magic will aid you, but knowing the quick and dirty way is always the best. Let’s start with the basics. Your fireplace is magicked to keep your room nice and cozy so we’ll have to do this outside.” Riva shuddered involuntarily and grudgingly followed Glen out into the cold winter evening. She suspected he was tiring to distract her and gladly accepted the distraction.

He grinned at her discomfort. “If you want to be warm, you’d better learn this as fast as you can. First we’ll need some wood.” Riva gladly went back inside to go and find some. Her own fireplace was magically sustained and didn’t need any fuel, but there were some logs in emergency. Once she had a few logs she brought them back to the balcony.

Glen had laid out several tools and showed her how to make fire from scratch. He thanked her for the wood and took a log. Then he showed her how to make a hot coal by rubbing two pieces of wood together. Riva had read about it, but it was the first time she had ever seen in done. He made her set up the many tools and start a coal several times, making sure she could do it herself.

It was exhausting! Riva had to pump her arm over and over until smoke rose from the base of the wood.

It soon became clear that she was a klutz in every area. So he showed even more basic skills. How to take care of blades, keep them sharpened and polished.

“Glen, I don’t need to know how to do this. I thought you wanted me to be a good ruler, what does any of this have to do with ruling?” Riva asked as she carefully slid the blade on a wet stone.

Glen was working on his own knife, eyes down. “You won’t always have servants and you won’t always have guards. There are spies in the palace and if they get a shot at you, I want you to be ready.”

Riva smiled sadly to herself. Because you’re leaving and won’t be able to keep an eye on me?

*****

The next few weeks consisted of the most strenuous exercises in both body and mind.
The Court Magician did indeed come back to give her lessons, but not her normal ones. He explained that according to The Code of all magic users, the one who discovered the magic talent was responsible for training it. He began to teach her the basics of magic.

Riva was already familiar with the theory but like anything else, actually putting it into practice was another story. Finding the energy within her and keeping a hold of it took great concentration, using was even more difficult.

Glen was also giving her lessons, every night for a few hours they would work on survival skills, self-defense and conditioning (Riva’s least favorite part).

“Come on, Riva, you’ve gotta build your muscles! How are you going to draw a bow if you can’t even string it? What if you fell from the balcony? Could you pull yourself back up?” He would push her always doing whatever exercise with her until they finished.

“Now, stand up.”

“Why?” Riva groaned after several rounds of push-ups.

“I’m gonna teach you how to fight!” Glen cackled with glee.

He’s enjoying this WAY too much.

When she had finally learned how to climb a rope up to her balcony, they started doing things on the grounds. He taught her how to move silently, which was very difficult due to the snow on the ground. He showed her how to make a shelter with a waxed skin and they would run. He wanted her to get used to running on uneven ground and with little light.

Riva had never learned to run! The action was completely foreign to her. Everything was foreign to her. Often she would fall or mess up horribly, Glen would tease her a little, quickly correct her and they would move on. He never raised his voice.

Once he grinned at her, “You’re trying, that’s more than I can say for some nobles. I can’t fault someone who was never taught.”

That’s right, he grew up begging. Riva mused. He knows what it’s like to feel utterly ignorant.

While those nights were hard and long, she would always remind herself that she was with Glen. She could bear any treatment if it was just a little more time with him before he left.

*****

“I finished, thank you for letting me borrow it.” Riva informed the Court Magician, carefully handing him his book back.

“Ah! What did you think of it?”

Riva cocked her head to one side, considering. “His writing style was verbose and at times difficult to understand, but he had a firm understanding of magic. Sir, is there such a thing as the ‘universal magic’? We’ve used several of Kadric’s techniques but I’m afraid I still don’t know much about magic in other parts of the world.”

The Court Magician chuckled, “Verbose. I would think so- I was very young when I wrote this. And we are getting to other forms of magic, but first you must have a very strong foundation in the fundamentals.”

Riva’s eyes widened. “You wrote this book? You are Kadric?”

He nodded solemnly. “Yes, and I prefer Kadric to ‘sir,’ if you please. Now, back to our lesson. While you understand the concept of the flow of energy and where it comes from” he fluttered his hands indicating the air around them, “what you don’t understand is that magic is the connection of souls-” He pointed to himself and then to the walls. “I touched the stones and asked them to protect you, engraving my will into theirs. You cannot force a conscious, living thing to do your will. Horrible things have happened to both the caster and the victim, which we will discuss at a later time. You will also find that magic is more successful if you work with objects that are already equipped with the abilities that you need.” The rest of his lesson was a discussion of the elements and how one could influence them in the most efficient way.

“Magic is eighty percent planning, envisioning it in your mind, twenty percent concentration and will, and two percent execution.”

Riva raised a brow.

Kadric grinned, “I’m trying to make a point. A well envisioned and planned spell will simply fall into place, rather than fighting the very fabric of nature. If you understand the fabric of nature you can use it to your advantage. Great wizards use very little power, while those you see performing in the streets use too much and tire quickly.”

Riva soon discovered that magic was actually a study of the physics of the earth and about the interaction of both living and inanimate.

*****

“No Riva, hands up in front of your face! Don’t let anyone get a free hit. Feet well braced, one foreword. Good. Now punch my face! HARDER!” Glen was grinning bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Riva laughed at the his excitement and hit with all her might at the hand that was guarding his head. She looked up at Glen and laughed harder. He looked half drunk and was wobbling just slightly on his feet. We’re both so tired, we can barely see straight!

*****

Steadily Riva improved. Her aching bones and throbbing muscled finally adjusted to the abuse and dulled. At first exerting so much extra energy was bewildering, but she discovered it actually helped her focus. Her appetite grew and she notices that her shoulders weren’t fitting in her dresses anymore.

During the day she was absorb as much as she could with the Court Magician.

“You know, believe it or not, most wizards and magicians see magic as a checklist or a recipe. You mix this, put a little of that and Tada! You have your result. I’m teaching you to look at magic as a whole. You’ll find that my way of seeing it will be very different than those you will meet in the future. They will stick to a certain field of magic and specialize in it. I suggest you keep an open mind to all ways of magic, every style and every technique. There is always something new to learn.”

“What have you seen other magicians do?”

“Oh, I’ve seen animal transformation, seers of the past and future, herbalists, summoners, fire eaters, even some simple parlor tricks have traces of magic.” He shrugged. “I plan to write another book, this time incorporating all that I’ve seen and learned since my first version.”

Riva raised her brows but kept her eyes closed, trying to focus her on her inner energy. “That’s quite a feat, when can I read it?”

Kadric laughed, “What? I already have a critic ready and waiting?”

She smiled slightly, “‘I have yet to find the man, however exalted his station, who did not do better work and put forth greater effort under a spirit of approval than under a spirit of criticism.’” She quoted firmly. She had memorized the quote soon after she’d fallen into a pit of self-loathing.

“Who said that?”

“Charles Schwab, he was a very successful merchant.”

Kadric grunted. “He sounds like a hard man. Do you agree with him?”

Riva opened her eyes and considered before answering. “Yes... I do. He words it very specifically. Approval means that you are satisfied with the work and do not require anything more. If you were to suggest that something could be improved or fixed, wouldn’t that be a form of criticism? even if it was done in a loving and caring way? A mother can still correct her child while loving him.”

Kadric was quiet for a moment. “Don’t you mean a ‘father’?”

Riva clamped her mouth shut and swallowed. She didn’t think Kadric would direct the conversation in this direction. “He’s not my father.”

“But he’s the closest thing you’ve ever had.” He paused. “Don’t you think you should make peace with him before he leaves?”

Riva was getting agitated and it was reflecting on her hold. She took a deep breath and released the energy before she lost control completely.

Kadric was sitting on one of the cushioned seats, head in hand, elbow on braced on the arm of the chair. He sighed loudly, “Well, at least I know you are careful. Most students let it out all at once.” He stood wearily and laid a hand on her shoulder in passing. “The King is not a bad man, he’s just bitter and angry. Surely you can understand that.”

“Just because I understand him doesn’t mean I have to like him. Or trust him.” Riva muttered, keeping her eyes trained on the floor. “It’s not like it’s my fault...” She looked up at Kadric. “Is it because I look like her? Is it because every time he sees my face it reminds him of her?”

He shook his head solemnly, “No, it can’t be. I think if you looked like her, even just a little bit, he could forgive you, but you don’t look anything like her.”

Riva was silent for only a moment, “I’m going to go practice with fire.” She stood and headed toward the balcony.

“Don’t get carried away. Fire’ll eat anything-” Kadric gave her a meaningful look. “and everything.”

He means. “Don’t die.” “Got it.” She said aloud and he left.

*****

Christmas came and went.

Glen got Riva a bow and proceeded to show her how to use it. Kadric had given her a pendant with the ancient rune for ‘Courage’ if fit nicely just below her clavicle.

Riva had gotten him a thick cloak (Kadric did all her shopping for her) that could go over his armor. It was practical and would be well used. Exactly what Glen would like. For Kadric (she’d asked Ergil to get his via written note) she got a blank bound book that had been imported from the south. The south was known for their fine quality of paper. For Mira she gave a comb decorated with delicate lilies. Ergil received a chair with a cushion sown at the seat, it was practical for the kitchen but still comfortable.

“Are you saying something about my age?” Anyone who didn’t know Ergil would think he was furious, but she could she the slight crinkle of crows feet and a twinkle in his eye.

Riva smiled openly, “Would you rather I give it to Cook?”

Ergil’s eyes narrowed and he waved a hand. “I supposed I’ll accept this paltry gift, but don’t expect anything from me!”

Two days later a small wood carving was set outside her door. It was a dove.

*****

Riva was beginning to enjoy the night time adventures with Glen, she was starting to see the “why.” Why she kicked this way, or rolled this way. There was always a reason behind what they did, but something Glen didn’t know the answer. Whenever they went out into the forest she would experiment with light. She didn’t want fire, but light. She ended up using lightning, only in a much smaller and controlled form. Contained in a sphere it would circulate in a steady glow fueled by her power. With the new light they could track and practice with the bow.

Riva liked the bow. It was much easier than having to confront a bigger opponent head on and lose every time. All she had to do was focus, pull back with her entire body and release. So simple.

Glen caught a hare in one of his clever traps and showed her how to skin and gut it. She lost her dinner. He just laughed, “Trust me, when you’re starving you don’t care what you eat.”

Riva just hoped she never got that desperate.

*****

Before she knew it, the snow was melting and the birds were starting to sing. It was time for the army to head out.

“We leave tomorrow.”

Riva bit the inside of her cheek and tried to smile. She’d already had a breakdown yesterday and a few days before. She didn’t want to lose control tonight.

She picked up the flint and bent to light the tinder and kindling she’d set up. It gave her something to do. It gave her time to think.

“Riva?” His voice was right next to her ear.

She jerked back instinctively and threw her elbow into his chest. The wind rushed out of him and she gasped. “Are you alright? I didn’t mean to- I’m so sorry!” She grabbed his elbow but he waved her off and bent over, waiting for his breath to come back.

“Wow,” He grinned at her, “you’ve definitely gotten stronger.” he huffed a little and straightened, making sure he was breathing normally again. “Looks like I won’t have to worry about you.” Cautiously as if handling a particularly jumpy horse, he held his hands up and moved slowly until his arms were around her in a warm embrace.

Riva didn’t know how to react. But she did trust Glen. He had never, ever let her down and had only been the utmost gentlemen when they had spent time together. So, she allowed herself to relax into his arms. That’s right. She remembered the night when he had held her like this. He cares. He cares about everyone. Guiltily she wrapped her own arms around him and smiled happily, letting herself enjoy the moment. She didn’t want to think about the consequences that even an embrace could have.

His crushed her against him. “I’m gonna miss you, so much.” He whispered in a thick voice.

Tears leaked from her eyes silently. “I’m gonna miss you, too” She said through tears.

They didn’t move for a long time, neither wanted to leave.

His tight grip loosened and they pulled away from each other. Riva looked down quickly wiping her eyes and gathering the courage to look up. She could see his boots. He was still only a couple of feet away. Hesitantly she looked up.

Their eyes made contact for a moment and his hands grasped her shoulders, gently. Then slowly he leaned in, eyes imploring.

He’s going to kiss me. Riva’s mind panicked. What do I do? Thoughts of duty, responsibility, Kadric, her father- no... not my father. I am no princess.

She rose to meet him.

He was gentle and steady, his arms wrapped around her again and he pressed her mouth against his just once and then he released her.

He took several steps back, swallowing slightly. When he spoke, his voice cracked. “I have to go.” His pale eyes never left hers. He opened his mouth but closed it again and smiled at her. “Have a good night, Princess Rivalee.”

She couldn’t respond.
In moments he was over the balcony and out of sight.
Riva looked down at her trembling hands and sat by the remains of her unlit fire. “Be safe, Glen.” She whispered.

*****

Riva was allowed to see her father off. Even though her eyes raked the ranks of soldiers for Glen and his men. When she did find him he didn’t look up. Her heart went out to him as he disappeared.

Her father rode stoically through the crowd. She watched as he passed. His faced was hard and deeply lined. I wonder what it was like when the Queen was alive. Did he laugh? In her mind a quick flash of a younger version of the King appeared, laughing with someone she assumed to be the Queen. They looked happy, full of life. She blinked and the image was gone.

Just as quickly another thought struck. He’s not going to make it through this. He won’t be coming back and I’ll have never known him. She imagined him young and happy again.

She paused caught in indecision.

Impulsively she broke through her guard and dashed out into the parade. She grabbed her father’s reins and pulled the horse to a stop. The white beast, jerked his head up and then settled.

“What are you doing?” The King hissed angrily, glaring at her with fierce blue eyes.

She swallowed, trying to wet her dry mouth. I don’t know! She thought fervently. All she did know was that she didn’t want her last memory of her... of her only father- the only man she had ever considered as her father- to be a horrible one.

“Father-I... I’ll miss you. Please be careful.” She sputtered.

He stopped and gazed at her intently. Riva stared back steadily, feeling no malice. He dismounted and strode to her. He stood proud and tall and laid a heavy hand on her shoulder like he was laying a great weight there. “Be a good queen- like your mother.” He whispered gruffly, then he nodded once as if to say, “that’s that” and mounted again.

Her guard fell in around her and she felt tears sting at her eyes. “I will, I promise.” She swore vigilantly.

*****

The very same day Riva put her plan into action. She had to become a part of the Council and she wasn’t about to wait. The longer she waited the longer the Council could run amok. Glen had hinted at spies, Riva was determined to find them.

She had taken several weeks with the Court Magician to get an understanding of their government with all the pros and cons. Essentially the King had the last say in all decisions he was in charge of the military and therefore held the power, the nobles had the land and the merchants had the money. There were several go-betweens that kept the peace between king, noble and civilian.

The King’s Council was designed to allow everyone to put forth their opinion about issues of the realm, based on what the King heard he could make a decision.

Within Alsteare there were sixteen principalities placed in the hands of the nobles. They had certain liberties but were ultimately under the King. Each land had two representatives that would report to the capital. Either one of the representatives of the Noble himself were required to be present at Council. They would switch off every four to six months. These representatives were chosen by the King and paid by the noble in charge. The King could release the representative at any time. This was supposed to keep their loyalties evenly split between the King and the Noble in question.

Also required to appear in Council was a judge from each sect. These judges were chosen by the people and paid by the King- again this was to ensure loyalty to both parties. There were at least two judges selected in each region so they could switch at six months. They were to be the voices of the people. If there was a major problem that needed to be addressed by the King it could be brought by the judges.

There was usually a major-general from the Military district and four others of a slightly lower rank. Military executives had a constant presence in the Council due to the conflict with Sealidan. The war had been kept to the borders mostly, but if the Sealidans were to invade father in a Martial Law would be put in place.

A total of nine merchants had bought their way on to the council. No more than ten were allowed at a time. There were changes with the merchants frequently. Whoever was supporting the King most got a seat, those who couldn’t afford it, didn’t get the opportunity. The merchants were supposed to represent the middle class, the working class. Always with mixed results

Finally, the Court Magician and an occasional magically inclined companion were present as well.

Riva took a deep breath and stood as tall as possible, her expression blank and cold. Kadric announced her presence. “Princess Rivalee of Alsteare.”

She held her head high and walked with purpose into the Court. With a single glance she could read several different expressions, many were carefully blank, polite, a few were out right repulsed, others were confused or curious. She didn’t plan on letting them get anything from her.

Earlier that week she had discussed different strategies that could be used in Court. They had come up with two that were likely to work: manipulation or force. She could play the fool and allowed herself to be stepped all over but that meant she would have to talk them into circles and she didn’t really want to bother. It would take too long and she was sick of being walked over. She couldn’t rule the Council with an iron fist like her father, she didn’t have the physical build or intimidation.

She had sided with manipulation.

At the moment she was unknown. No one knew how the princess was going to effect the voice of the Council. They knew nothing about her and she had made sure she’d done her research on every single one of them.

This made it difficult to choose something to wear. She had to make them fear her and yet give no impression whatsoever. In the end she went with a white dress to symbolize purity and innocence but most importantly peace. It hugged her figure but was long enough to brush the floor. It flared at the elbows and had a square neck. She wore no jewelry, but piled her hair atop her head in intricate braids and loops, all held together by a hundred pins.

Her walk to her seat ended and she met each eye quietly. Then she took her father’s seat, making it very clear her intentions.

A few murmurs broke out, but she ignored them. She was acting as queen, they had better get used to it. Firmly she said, “Let the Council begin.”

Kadric had warned her that they would try any tactic to get her off balance, humiliating her in quiet ways. But she had not been prepared for the onslaught of questions and noise that assaulted her. Kadric had also warned her that it would be best if he didn’t come to her aid, they would respect her more if she handled it on her own.

Riva hadn’t been so sure she could do this. She had acted impulsively only this morning when she had run out to stop her father. Many would try and find ways to expose her emotions. But the past was the past and now was now. She had to take control of the situation.

Firmly she stood and slammed her palms on the table before her, with it she added a burst of wind. The strong breeze and sudden outburst quieted the room. She kept a calm face, revealing no emotions (Ah! How long she’d worked on keeping a straight face). She only hoped that they wouldn’t realize that she could work magic, the breeze hadn’t been that strong. She’d added the burst of wind to associate her with power and to get their attention. (She thought she saw Kadric smile in the corner of her eye.)

“Baron Nasady, perhaps you’d like to begin?” Riva spoke quietly and firmly, quickly she looked about the room and realized that most of the Nobles themselves were present too see off the King. How convenient... In her mind she picked out each noble and went over what she knew about them, only half listening to what was going on.

When an issue was discussed to the point where voices were beginning to rise and it was clear that they weren’t going to reach a conclusion. Riva would interject firmly and acknowledge that she understood the importance of the issue but that they would return to it at a later date. If they were unsatisfied she would use the excuse that she needed time to consider the issue more fully. If she allowed two factions to argue too long they wouldn’t be able to continue civilly.

Riva never said anything about an issue and only listened. She wanted to observe everyone and get a first impression of her own. Everything she knew about these people were only hearsay. More importantly she didn’t want to offer any information about herself. She had made sure there was no time for introductions and no time for the other members to corner her and interview her.

Her sole purpose was to guide the meeting. Often she would call on a member by name and occasionally add a little detail about their family or a project that was going on in their region. She wanted to place fear into their hearts, to give them the impression that she was all knowing. She wanted to be a mystery and to keep them on their toes.

It wasn’t like she had many secrets to expose... well, besides the magic and Glen, and she wasn’t really a princess. But rumors had been flying around about that for years and there was no use worrying about it now.

The rest of the meeting ended without incident. Honestly there wasn’t much they could do. There was a lack of man-power and most of the funds were going to the war. There simply wasn’t room in the budget to satisfy all the needs. Most projects were put on hold, a few laws were changed or expanded on. From what Riva had put together from the Court Magician and the gossip, all members of the Council were in it for the power and money. But Riva sensed a unity in the Council. Yes, they were completely self-interested but they understood that if they were invaded and taken over; they would be powerless.

They had a common enemy and they had to keep the kingdom moving or they would lose everything.

The bell tower rung and heads turned. Their time together would have to end, some groaned as they stood. Riva resolved to get comfier chairs. Just because they had to meet twice a week didn’t mean it had to be uncomfortable.

Riva left immediately feeling very concerned. “Kadric, I need much, much more information on how things are run. I felt completely useless in there.” Riva rubbed her eyes, she had to get Alsteare back on it’s feet.

Kadric chuckled, “I thought you did quite well. What do you need?”

“Treasury accounts, where does the money go and where is it coming from? I need specifics, I want to go over all of the transactions, there has to be a way we can get out of this. Second, I need a law book! I was clueless on half of the legal issues discussed. Third, I need more information on the military structure and what is going to be needed to continue supporting the army. Fourth... how do the merchants fit in to all of this? They weren’t exactly of much use.”

“They have close relations with other countries. They control the trade and keep the economy going. In more of a direct relation, they can fund projects. Right now they are as poor as anyone else, we’ve hit them hard not only with taxes but with trade. It’s not safe to travel and no one can afford their wares.” Kadric sighed. “This war is hurting everyone.”

Riva wasn’t sure she understood, but decided not to press the issue. She turned to a different subject one that had been bothering her. “I thought the Council was designed to let everyone have fair say.” She looked to Kadric for confirmation.

He nodded.

“If that’s the case, why didn’t anyone bring up any of their issues? Haven’t they reported their problems?”

Kadric raised an eyebrow, a small smile beginning to show. “Oh, please who wants to hear from the common man? All they can do is complain.”

Riva looked up in shock.

He laughed. “I’m just giving you their point of view, not mine. Any problems that have been brought up are dead last in priority. They’ve got other things to worry about.”

Riva shook her head. “Don’t people read? A noble can’t build a cart or grow food or anything that is pertinent to survival. This country is built on the common man. A king can only do so much. Even I know that.”

Kadric grinned. “I can’t wait to see what you can do.”

Riva shivered and looked at him reproachfully. She had a feeling things were going to get really messy, really fast.

*****

The treasury accounts were a mess and nearly impossible to sort through. Riva spent hours pouring over them, making calculation after calculation in her head. Nothing added up! The accounts would say one thing, when the actual hard cash would say another. Riva was determined to beat this. She had given her life to studies and she wasn’t about to let simple accounts get the better of her.

One thing was for sure, the Palace had borrowed from several merchants to continue manufacturing weapons and they wanted payment soon. They had made that clear enough to her.

Riva enlisted Ergil’s help for the spy matter. If there was someone in the Palace that was acting suspiciously she wanted to know. Everything he heard, she heard. He encouraged several of servants to listen in on conversations and “clean” rooms regularly. It took time because rumors were generally just that, rumors.

As time went by, she got some absolutely tickling information: affairs, hoarding food, smuggling, several different kinds of stealing, breaking contracts and promises, dirty judges, lots of bribes etc... etc... But no spies.

She could still use the information though, but she would need hard evidence. No one would believe the word of a servant against the word of a member of the Council.

Riva sat back contemplating the best procedure to take. It would differ with each case, she knew the members well enough now to know how they would react. She’d been watching them very closely and while that was useful, it wouldn’t be enough. She needed allies and she would get them with whatever means necessary.

*****

Riva was able to establish a routine. Her morning began with conditioning and basic exercises, she did what she could within her study. She’d decided keep sleeping in her study; it was secure and private. Any documents she didn’t want others getting their hands on, she kept in here. Her progress in magic was also kept a secret, done in the seclusion of the spelled walls.

After getting into a good sweat, Riva would bathe, eat and prepare for the day. Maids would dress her and fix her hair, while she scanned reports. She couldn’t afford to have a spare moment to herself. When she had first started training, the small amount of sleep had been difficult to function on. Now she had adjusted and the hours that would’ve been lost to sleep could be put to much better uses.

There were so many things to manage: population, employment, food production, trade and commerce, crime, law and natural disasters, education, military needs and the position of the enemy, housing, health, entertainment ... there was always some problem somewhere that needed attention.

She had taken to keeping a clerk with her at almost all hours of the day, he or she could write down thoughts or orders she had and take them to the appropriate parties. Then she set up a second small study where she could work in the open and others could find her.

Kadric strode into her open-study. “I have a present for you.” he said, taking a seat.

Riva looked up once and smiled, always happy to see her mentor. “Really? Does it happen to be a ten thousand gold pieces? Cause I could really use it right about now.”

“Unfortunately not, my Princess. I bring you, Lloyd of Gereth. He’s the son of the late Harol of Gareth.” Kadric motioned for a young man of about Riva’s age into the study.

Riva paused in her flurry of paper. Gereth was a fairly new region and the family name was not as respected as the older noble names. She stood, examining the young man carefully.  He wasn’t as tall as Glen- Riva sighed inwardly. Will I never be able to compare men to someone other than Glen?

Looking again, she tried to keep a partial mind. He was thin and lanky, with an angular face. His black hair that was swept back and tied neatly, but it made him look like a stork. At a first glance no one, would believe he was capable of carrying on his father’s household, but his eyes told a different story. They were dark and firm, a glint of fire that assured her he was capable of whatever task assigned.

Riva held out a hand and as was custom, he bent and kissed it. “I’m sorry to hear about your father. He was a steady and loyal man.” Even if he couldn’t manage his financials.

Gereth bowed his head to thank her for honoring his father. “He was indeed one to rely on his heart. Thank you, your Majesty.”

Kadric interrupted ignoring the social procedures. “Lloyd, here, came to take his place on the Council. I assured him you would welcome him.”

Riva nodded graciously. “Of course, I must say I’m impressed at your dedication to the realm. Your father only died a few weeks ago and rarely appeared at the Council.”

Gareth nodded, “My father did not see the importance of involving himself with the decisions of the King. He was concerned about his own people and focused his efforts to them. However with our land so close to the border, I was hoping to sway the Council to aid us.” His eyes flashed to Riva’s inquiring, but not pleading.

Riva smiled charmingly at him, it was the smile she pulled out for all diplomatic situations. “I’m afraid I can’t promise you anything, but you are welcome to join us.”

“I understand.” His expression was blank and controlled.

They chatted for little while longer about the weather and travel conditions until Gareth excused himself.

Riva turned to Kadric, eyebrows up. “How is he a present?”

Kadric’s grin widened. “I have reason to suspect that our friend Lloyd has acquired some very interesting documents. Documents that perhaps a princess in your position could use.”

“Spit it out, Kadric. You know I don’t like playing games with you. You barely even try to conceal your emotions. It’s infuriating seeing you bursting with excitement and only knowing enough that the answer is just beyond my reach.” Kadric loved teasing her and would lead her on for hours with hints and insinuations.

“He may have the evidence you need to get your spy. He asked me to introduce him.” Kadric looked down at his nails. He wasn’t going to say any more without a push.

He’s like a child with a sweet who purposely waits to eat it in front of you.

Riva sighed and massaged her forehead. “Is he going to give me this evidence?”

Kadric gave her a look. “Please Princess, surely you know you can’t get something for nothing.”

He was right. Gareth wanted troops to protect his people and Alsteare didn’t have any to spare. “Kadric, you’ve just placed another problem I need to deal with on me. How is this a present?”

“Use him. I’m sure you’ll figure it out, Princess. You are my pupil, after all.” With that he stood and strode smugly out of the room.

Someday I might forget myself and set him on fire. The image brought a smirk to her face. I hope by then I’ve learned enough to beat him. She picked up a quill and started writing notes. Maybe now is a good time to make my move.

*****

The Earl Delphane received summons to the Princess’s study the same day. He wasn’t sure what to think. He reread the passage and thanked the page boy. He smoothed his mustache and tried to determine what she could possibly want. It had been nearly a month since she had taken her place at the Council’s head and nothing of consequence had happened. Many of the members whispered that she was just a puppet of Kadric’s.

Delphane’s expressions wrinkled in concern, he couldn’t see Kadric making a play like that for power. Kadric had enough power to take the kingdom in any number of ways and this certainly didn’t seem like his style.

The Earl thought back to the Princess. She was not what he had been expecting. Something about her made him itch. The child was rumored to have been shut away in her rooms for the most part of her life but she showed no fear or insecurities of any kind. Either she was a brilliant actor or she was hiding something.

He sighed. When he had seen her run out into the street to stop her father, he thought that she was either the craziest or bravest person he’d ever seen. He knew that the King and the Princess didn’t have a loving relationship and had seen the King’s wrath...

He shuddered. But then she had come into the Council with a cool and calm air, full of confidence and power. The members had waited for weeks to see what she would do, but she never came out and said aloud her opinion. She hid herself in her study and read reports all day, messages coming in and out all day.

The Earl stopped at the Princess’s study and knocked. There was one guard outside her door but other than that the long hall was deserted.

“Come in.”

The Earl opened the door and found the Princess writing in very neat script, dipping her pen every so often. Several strands of hair had come undone and her fingers were covered in ink, a clerk and a runner stood by her desk. She looked up and smiled, “I’ll only be a moment, please sit.” She indicated the soft chair before her desk.

Feeling as if he was intruding the Earl sat and watched warily.

“Send these to Captain Glen and the King. They will be expecting them.” She blotted the ink and folded the letters crispy, addressing them herself. “Thank you.” She told the runner. Who touched his hat and ran out the door. The clerk excused himself and shut the door quietly behind him.

Riva sighed loudly and was about to rub her eyes when she saw all the ink on her fingers. Absentmindedly she pulled out a handkerchief and wiped at her hands. “I must apologize, I should have accepted you more graciously but there were matters to attend to.”

The Earl assured her she had not offended him, noticing that her answering smile was weary.

Her eyes wandered around the room as she gathered her thoughts. “I’ve called you here because this has come to my attention.” She reached behind her and retrieved several sheets of paper and a small record book. She handed them to him and leaned against her desk.

He took them and felt the blood drain from his face and hands. They were detailed accounts of the Palace’s Treasury.

“I’m sure you’ll notice that several thousand gold pieces are missing from the records. I did quite a bit of digging and found these from the previous accountant. Who was released- I believe on your orders?”

The Earl looked up but had nothing to say. It was clear who was the culprit. He’d thought he’d gotten rid of it all. How could he have missed this? He looked in the Princess’s eyes, they were cold and pitying. Could he get any mercy from her? No... He’d taken thousands of gold pieces, something like that couldn’t just be forgiven.

He let the sheets fall in despair. He was going to die. The Princess would have no other choice but to kill him. He’d stolen from her father, she’d be expected to kill him. Then she would strip his family of all they had and they would be left in the streets...

“Can you tell me why you took the money? I’d like to know what was so important that you had to steal for.” The Princess whispered voice still cold.

“Gambling.” He choked. “Gambling. I lost it all... I thought I could get it back...”

The Princess sucked in a breath. After a moment she said listlessly, “I see.”

Stifling silence filled the room.

“You know that I have to execute you.” She whispered.

The Earl let out a sob and nodded.

The Princess turned to meet his eyes. “But if I killed you, all I would have is a dead man and a large debt.” She paced furiously. “You will pay back the debt. You will live on only the essentials, sell all the comforts of your home and work as a Council member without payment. Do you understand me?” She stopped in front of him and stated very clearly and sharply. “If you gamble, your life will be forfeit. I will kill you.”

“You’re going to let me live?” Delphane couldn’t believe his ears. Relief made his body weak and he sank back into his seat trembling.

“Don’t thank me yet,” The Princess muttered. “You’re life is going to get very difficult for both you and your family.” She rubbed her temples. “I need that money and I will not allow you to tax your citizens for your mistake. Plus, I need your help.”

“Help?” He asked.

She nodded solemnly. “Someone on the Council is a spy. They are leaking information to Sealidan and it is taking a serious toll on our army. I received a message from my father informing me that they had eradicated all of the spies from the military... He didn’t tell me at what price... But that means that only someone who is present when we discuss-”

“When we discuss the condition of the war would know the position and numbers of our men.” The Earl finished. He considered what he had just heard. “How do you know it’s not me? How do you know I’m not the one getting the information.”

The Princess was silent, wearily searching for an answer.

“I don’t know, but I can’t imagine a spy being careless enough to steal from the palace and almost get himself killed. Still, I’m placing a great deal of faith in you. I need you to be my eyes and ears among the others. Tell me what you can, investigate your own people, do everything you can.” She rubbed her eyes. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave, Delphane. My headache’s coming back and I still have a great deal of work to finish. I’m assigning my clerk to you. He’ll be able to reach me quickly and confidentially.”

“And he’ll be able to keep an eye on me?”

The Princess smiled sadly, “I cannot afford to be naive and overly trusting, please forgive me.”

The Earl stood and bowed deeply. “Of course, I am in your debt your Majesty. If you require anything of me, do not hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you, you have no idea how it eases my mind to know that you are with me, Earl of Delphane.”

After hearing a very cold and expressionless voice, Delphane had not been expecting the sincere relief and sudden ease in the Princess’s voice. In that moment felt a surge of love and compassion towards this young woman who was trying to take on the world. He knew he was truly with the princess.

*****

Within the next few weeks massive changes were made. Four judges were thrown into prison or executed for crimes. Two nobles were stripped of their titles and their lands were awarded to others that Riva had chosen with the help of Kadric, Ergil (who was becoming increasingly useful) and Delphane. With each success the Council became more cowed and repentant. They were complacent even if they weren’t truly loyal. Kadric was constantly telling her that they would come to appreciate her in time.

As for the rest...

There was nothing substantial, nothing she could find that would indicate traitors or similar behavior. Despite her best efforts the only thing she could do was to wait, watch and kick out anyone she could get evidence against.

The other Council members loyalty was bought through fear and intimidation, but Riva would take it. During Council she made it clear she wanted to hear opinions but that she was the leading power, what she said went. As long as there was that structure everyone was heard and projects were completed.

Riva rubbed her temples as they sat in conference. Judge Curtis was going off about an obscure law that had very little relevance to the matter they were discussing. He had the kind of voice that grated on her nerves, he had to go over every little detail before finally reaching a decision and even after he reached a final decision he kept going over the pros and cons. His years and experience kept the rest of the members from blatantly cutting him off, but they all felt that enough was enough. For some reason today was especially horrible, all Riva wanted to do was smack the older man and remind him that they did not have the leisure of time. In the end Riva had to end the Council early. Her anger was bubbling over and she was having a hard time keeping her expression smooth and polite.

As she walked to her open-study she took deep breaths trying to expend the pent up emotion. By the time she had finally reached her destination she had begun to relax. I need to get more sleep. She muttered to herself. Sleeping between meetings was not cutting it.

Ergil shuffled through her doors.

She glanced up. “Anything new?”

He shrugged, settling in the comfort of the seat near her desk. “There’s been some chatter, nothing definite.”

Riva flipped through reports. “Who?”

“Colonel Merrel, Judge Warthal and Furlong and a few of the merchants.”

She shook her head. “None of the merchants have had enough time on the Council to be the spies, besides there are always whispers when it comes to merchants. Judge Warthal doesn’t have the right motivation, what about Baron Nadsady?”

Ergil shook his head, poking his nose around her desk.

Riva smiled. “The chocolates are all gone thanks to a certain someone.”

He sighed piteously. “I wonder who that cruel person could be?”

She hmmmed non-commitally.

“Maybe I should leave you to it. It looks like you’re busy.”

Riva looked up. “I’m sorry, Ergil. I just want to stop him. Every time I get a letter from Glen and my father it’s worse. They’ve lost more men than I’m comfortable with. I thought for sure we had something with Nasady but it’s been three weeks since we were able to get eyes on him.”

Ergil nodded sagely. “How fares the kingdom?”

“Better... much better but not quite... there.” Riva put aside a stack of papers to sign and seal.

Ergil stood, smiling. “You’re distracted.” He kissed her forehead. “Good luck, my Queen.”

Riva looked up, surprised, but he was already leaving.

*****

Riva woke up crying. In her head the only thing she could hear was, “That was badly done.”
Words like “careless”, “disappointed”, “poorly”, “failure.” From strangers, Council members, Kadric, Ergil, Glen, her father. She sat on her bed sobbing, tears pouring down her face. Her limbs had gone completely limp. Weakly she hit the cushions on her bed, defying an unfair world. I’m trying! I’m trying... I’m only a girl, I can’t- I can’t be perfect. I’M TRYING!!!

Soundlessly she screamed.

*****

She slept in.

When the sun shone through the window, she pulled the covers over her head and went back to sleep. Her swollen eyes didn’t want to see the light of day, so she wouldn’t let them. And that was that.

Kadric came into her room around noon.

“Riva, get up! It’s urgent. I need you to focus.” He went to her bed and pulled away her covers.

Bright needles stabbed at her brain. She curled away instinctively, hands thrown up to shield her eyes.

“I can understand you missing meetings every once in a while, it’s expected. But right now I need you! So sit up!”

Riva pulled herself into a sitting position, glaring at Kadric in the most hateful way she could muster. Had he actually looked over and seen her glare he would’ve realized something was wrong. Riva never glared in earnest, no matter how angry she was at you.

“I just got a letter.” He swallowed looking pensive. “Read it.”

Riva, feeling very put off that she had been foiled in a perfectly wonderful pity party for herself, took the letter and opened it. She was still glaring, hoping that he would notice.

Kadric was too busy pacing to see her expression. “Are you reading?”

I hate you. She started reading, might as well get it over with.

My dear Kadric,

I trust you are well and that bastard King is alive as well. Now that I’ve gotten through the pleasantries, I’ll explain myself. Kadric, I’m about to die.

Riva skipped down to the bottom of the letter. “Bethel Poulter? Who’s that?”

Kadric had begun to wring his hands while he paced, Riva had never seen him this tense. “Keep reading.”

She continued.

...I’m about to die. It’s time that I told you all I know. If I take it to my grave I could be sentencing you all to your deaths. Riva is not the princess, she is my grandchild.

Riva paused waiting for some kind of emotion to settle. There were several floating around but she was so numb after last night that nothing hit home. She kept reading.

...grandchild. I hope that you’ve been looking after her, she is the only thing I have left. I will explain, but to do so I will have to start at the beginning.

There is a prophecy about a prince with white hair he is foretold to bring love and peace to Alsteare. The prophets divined that he was to be born during Riva’s generation, and then the Queen got pregnant. Everyone was waiting to see if the child would be the boy in the prophecy.

“How come I didn’t know about this prophecy?” Riva asked.

“Do you really think your father would allow prophecy to circulate in the palace after his foreordained son turned out to be an illegitimate girl? Your father never listened to the prophets or anyone like them ever again. He’s discredited them at every turn. As far as he’s concerned they are of the devil, not of the gods. Keep reading.”

Then Kendra, my daughter, had a vision.

My mother- Kendra. Riva stroked the page, outlining the name. She had visions...

The vision was of the Queen’s and the child’s death. The Queen would die giving birth, I, of course was not happy about this, I do have pride as a midwife. The boy would survive but within three years of the boy’s birth he would be killed unless we did something about it. We immediately told the Queen and together concocted a plan. Kendra’s due date was only weeks before the Queen’s and so we decided to switch the children. Kendra could act as nursemaid and protector for Riva. The prince would be miles away from the palace and away from danger.

Things went perfectly, except that the King believed that his wife was having an affair. She’d been disappearing during the night, having secret meetings with us. She didn’t want to tell him. Who would want to tell their husband that in a few months you would die and your son would be taken away to be replaced by an impostor?

I had found a good woman to be the boy’s mother. Her name was Edith Summer. Find her Kadric, find her and find the boy, make sure they’re safe. I was banished before I could explain to her who he was. She has no idea that she is raising the heir to the throne.

Tell Riva I’m sorry I’m not there. The King wouldn’t listen to reason. When I went in to explain to him the only words I was able to get out before he literally threw me out of the palace was, “Riva is not your daughter.” The stupid man jumped to conclusions and now he’s ripped my family apart and destroyed his own.

Riva, my dear, dear grandchild. Your mother protected you with her very last breath. Even though you weren’t the child in the prophecy you were attacked countless times. Kendra died drinking poison that was meant for you. She loved you, we both loved you.

Listen to Kadric, he’ll teach you all you need to know. Take things slow, enjoy the small things, life goes to fast. Keep smiling, be happy, you are loved.

Bethel Poulter

Riva smiled through her tears. They were happy tears.

“Well? What do you want to do?”

Riva looked up at Kadric, he was still wringing his hands. “What do I want to do?” She sat back and tried to think. “Well, we need to find this boy and Edith. He’s the one in the prophecy. We’ll keep a look out for the spy and keep doing what we’re doing.” She threw up her hands in dismay. “Is there anything else we can do?”

Kadric finally sank into a chair, sighing loudly. “No... no, there’s nothing else we can do.”

“Get me a copy of the original prophecy so I can study it. I need you to handle finding Edith on your own, I don’t trust anyone else.”

“Of course, I’ll get right on that.”

Riva nodded and slid out of bed. It was time to move on. There was work to be done.

*****

“Maybe when the prophecy says ‘hair as white as snow’ it actually means blond.” Riva pondered aloud, “I can’t think of a boy going grey at my age.”

Kadric hmmmed. “Read it all the way through again.”

“‘And there will come one among you to be clothed in majesty, hair as white as snow. To rule and to lead all people to peace.’  You know I would’ve never believed a prophecy could be so vague. Why did my grandmother think that it would be the prince? The prophecy is a total of two lines. It’s not like it says ‘and the prince will be born and solve all your problems.’” Riva muttered. She’d been going over the same two lines over and over again, trying to find some kind of hint or detail she’d missed.

Kadric smiled. “Those two lines are different for seers and prophets. When they read a prophecy they see how it will be fulfilled. If your mother or another prophet saw that it was the prince who was to fulfil the prophecy, then it was the prince. There is no debating a seer. Sometimes the way they say things are unclear but that’s just because we can’t see what they can. Prophecy is only tricky because we try to escape it or we try and make it fulfil itself in our own time. Fate has a funny way of making things happen when you are least expecting it. And I think you are right about being blond, it’s the only thing that makes sense and we can’t take any chances.”

It was Riva’s turn to muddle over what Kadric had said. After a few minutes of silent thinking she mumbled, “I never thought I’d have to meddle with things like this. It’s all too big.” She sighed, “We need to gather all the boys who are blond and at my age. How will we know which one is the right one?”

Kadric shrugged, “I’m not sure, maybe he’ll look like his father or his mother. We may just have to take all of them in and educate them. Like I said, we can’t take chances.”

“I’m not sure if we can accommodate that many... Still no luck with Edith?”

Kadric shook his head. “As far as I can tell no one has heard of her or seen her since. It’s either she left the country or she’s dead. Both options are bad.”

Riva rubbed her eyes. So far nothing was falling in the right places. Alsteare was still in a horrible financial position, no spy was to be found and the battle front was struggling to reach the capital and now they couldn’t find a lost heir.

Her head came up. “What about Lloyd of Gareth? Didn’t you say that he had some interesting documents?”

“Yes, but he wanted us to send troops up to his region-”

“What if we sent the Palace Guard?”

Kadric barked a laugh, “The Palace Guard? They aren’t good for anything but looking pretty. They couldn’t hold off an attack if the enemy was blind and deaf.”

Riva smile grew slowly. “He didn’t specify who I was to send.”

He hadn’t really thought she was serious. “Riva, you realize you are putting men at risk? These men haven’t seen action in years, many many years. You could be sending them to their deaths.”

“The Palace Guard have been trained just like any other part of the military and if they can’t fight what good are they? Perhaps it’s time that they take a break from the Palace.”

“Who will guard the palace?”

Riva raised an eyebrow. “Surely you can cook up something?”

“You have too much faith in my ability, princess.” Kadric warned her.

“You have yet to let me down, Kadric. Until that day I will have undying faith in you.” She scooped up a stack of paper and went to speak with the Head of the Palace Guard.  

*****

Edith was dead. She had died years ago and no one knew where the boy she had been raising went. The only ones who remembered she’d had a son were old and they were foggy on how old he was. One would say it was a baby another would say it was a young boy and they had completely different accounts of what he looked like. It was yet another dead end.

Fortunately there weren’t as many blond boys as Riva had predicted. Only the boys with the palest hair were accepted.

“Did we check the outskirts of the cities? What about the mines?” Riva asked, she didn’t want to miss anyone.

Rooms, clothes, food and teachers were found for the boys in the palace. After months of searching and filtering through the boys that had painted their hair or were wearing wigs, they finally began the process of educating them.

“The Council will want to know why you are wasting resources on this. You don’t plan on telling them about the prophecy?” Kadric asked as they headed to the meeting.

Riva shook her head. “They’ve been conditioned after my father. They’ll think that prophecy isn’t concrete proof. They could also turn it into something much worse, say that I was going insane or unfit to rule.” She shrugged. “Not that insanity has stopped rulers in the past, but if they want me off the throne this would be a perfect opportunity. No, I’ll say that it’s an attempt to gain the respect of the people, by giving their sons the kind of education a prince would have. I’ll say it’ll raise the morale of the people or something along those lines.”

They Council swallowed her reasoning with a great deal of resistance, but accept it they did.

Riva was feeling good. Alsteare was beginning to peak it’s head out of the huge hole of debt. The Earl of Delphane had made it his mission to get them above the water and all their combined efforts were beginning to fruit. The country was still in poverty but at least fund’s could now be directed in changing that.

Riva walked into one of the classrooms and watched one of her own instructors teach several yellow haired young men. This was one of the slower classes, she could see their hallow eyes. At least I can’t see their ribs anymore. She couldn’t believe how thin some of these men were.

As she hovered outside their classroom she could see that the information wasn’t sinking in. They kept their eyes down and nodded, but no light of understanding was reaching their eyes.

They’re completely out of their element. Of course they don’t understand the reasons behind diplomatic and political protocol. She sighed and walked into the room. “If you’ll excuse me, sir.” She murmured quietly to the instructor.

“Ah, Princess. What brings you here?”

She looked around the room at the faces. Some had perked up at the word “princess.” “I was wondering if I could address your students for a moment?”

“Of course, your Majesty.”

The room quieted and now many of the young men were looking up at a ruler they had probably never seen. She could see a few expressions drop in dismay, others lit up.

“When you were brought here, you were told that you would receive warm beds and food. Many of you accepted our offer for just these two things.” Riva leaned back against the desk in front of the room. “But what I require from you is much more than just eating and sleeping, any half wit can do that.”

A few of the boys chuckled and others grinned.

“I need you to learn as much as you can while you are here. Is there anything specifically you want to learn about? Swordsmanship perhaps? or maybe about trade? Anything you can think of?”

They looked around at each other silently.

One boy raised his hand. He had a rounder face and stocky body. He looked only a few inches shorter than Riva. Riva nodded to him. He stood, blue eyes flashing and asked. “I’d like to know why? Why are we here? and why only blond boys?”

Riva smiled inwardly. I could use him. He’s got fire and curiosity. Out loud she said, “Come to my study after classes are done and I will tell you all you want to know. What is your name?”

“Jessaw, ma’am.”

“Jessaw is there anything else you’d like to learn?”

He considered, his determined expression relaxing into a grin. “I’d like to learn how to use a sword. Then I could fight the Sealidans!”

Riva fought a smile. “I’ll see what I can do. Anyone else with a request?”

A few of the other boys wanted to know about seafaring or other countries. Riva would answer what she’d read about or promise to teach them at a later date. Once they’d gotten over their initial fear the questions didn’t stop for a full forty minutes. There was so much they didn’t understand or didn’t know about. Once the class was dismissed Riva spoke with the instructor about the other, more advanced boys. They had more education and were more suited for the classroom atmosphere.

When she returned to her study, Jessaw was poking around her desk.

“I wouldn’t try to pick any of those locks if I were you.”

Jessaw jumped and raised his nose in disdain. “I would never steal from a princess.”

Again Riva fought a grin. “Please, have a seat and I’ll tell you about a certain prophecy.”

Jessaw listened through her explanation and then sat back and thought for a moment. “So we’re supposed to learn how to lead people to peace?”

She nodded.

“Why don’t you just do it? Why do you have to wait for one of us? That doesn’t make sense.”

Riva smiled. “I am trying to help in any way I can, but I can’t do everything. Don’t you think that I’m trying to lead people to peace in my own way?”

He scratched his head. “I think the real problem is Sealidan. If they were gone, we’d be happy.”

Riva didn’t necessarily agree, but she could see why he thought that. “Don’t you think Sealidan has to be in a similar situation as us? They’ve been fighting for just as long and just as hard. Don’t you think their people are suffering? If I could I would stop the war today, right now. But I can’t make millions of people see what I see.”

Jessaw was silent, blue eyes dark with anger. “The Sealidans are evil. They kill our men and hurt our mothers, why should we care about them?”

Riva blinked and was sucked out of her body. When her eyes opened she was at the border, seeing the two armies fight. The soldiers looked ragged and tired. Tents were full of wounded. Bodies littered the distance between to short stone walls.

Her spirit was pulled away to another place, the wheat was gold, ready to be harvested. It was a small farm area, with a village only a mile or so away. Smoke was rising from the village and cries sounded harshly against the grey sky. Another blink and she was among them. Mud coated walls and screaming people. Thatched roofs were burning and the smoke stung her eyes and nose. A large man bore down on a woman not ten feet away and pulled her arm back with enough force that a loud crack sounded. Riva winced and backed away. Crying was coming from every direction. Horses thundered in and out whether they bore a friend or soldier was irrelevant. Limbs were crushed from their weight. Farm animals squealed and shrieked from their pens.

Soldiers mowed down any resistance. Riva watched in horror as three men with shovels and axes ran at two armored men. With cold efficiency they slaughtered them. Striking with their weapons even after they had fallen into the mud, making sure they wouldn’t rise again. Riva’s stomach roiled in anger and sickness.

She blinked away tears and was back in her study.

“Princess?” Jessaw asked. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Concern permeated through his blue eyes.

Riva swallowed trying to wet her dry throat. She could still smell smoke. “Jessaw, where are you from?”

His face fell. “I was born in a small farming village outside of Thirton. It was destroyed.”

“Was it harvesting day, the day they came?”

He looked up in surprise. “Yeah, how did you know?”

She didn’t answer but gripped his shoulder, tears falling.

“Princess?”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I had no idea-” she swallowed again and let out a deep breath, wiping her tears “Jesslaw will you help me? Will you help me fix-” she waved her hands around, demonstrating. “all of this?”

He grinned. “Whatever you need-” he pounded his chest. “I’m your guy!”

*****

Visions struck when she was least expecting it. Once she was in the middle of a meeting and she was swept along in a vision of a man. When he opened his mouth water snakes and insects came from it and birds came and ate them. She blinked. It was gone. I thought I was supposed to understand my visions.

“Princess? You were saying...”

“Oh, excuse me, lost my train of thought-”

After the meeting was over she told Kadric about her vision. “What does it mean, Kadric?”

He frowned and finally shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not a dream interpreter and I’m not sure I know what all the symbols mean. Do you know what the man looked like?”

She couldn’t remember, the details were blurred. Shaking her head in frustraion, she told Kadric what she remembered.

He sighed. “Well, we’ll just have to write them down. Maybe something will happen that will make them clear. Maybe I can find someone-” he walked off mumbling to himself.

The Earl Delphane strode into her study and slapped down a thick stack of paper. “There! I’ve done it!”

Riva skimmed the accounts a smile growing on her face. “I don’t believe it. This is amazing! How did you ever manage?” She looked up at him in awe.

He was grinning, unabashed. “I employed the help of some very clever fellows I know. Together we were able to make trades and invest, look-” he pointed out a few of the places. “We didn’t expect them to pay for another year or so but, we got lucky. The donation of your jewelry and dresses were very much appreciated.”

Riva waved a hand dismissively still going through the accounts. “I can’t believe it. We’re completely free of debt.” She let out a laugh and stood, energy running high. “We should throw a ball! Or have a festival or something. This is something to sing about!”

The Earl laughed. “Now don’t go putting us right back into debt. We’ll keep working on it and raise enough money to throw a party, but for now we have to watch ourselves.”

Riva sighed in relief. “Oh, I feel like I could fly!”

Someone was arguing with the guards outside her room. Thumps sounded through the walls and Riva got up to see who was causing so much disturbance.

Lloyd of Gareth was trying to get through the guards. “Let me in! I must see the Princess!”

“Let him through.” Riva ordered crisply. “What gives me the pleasure of-”

“Enough!” he snarled. “You are sending the Palace Guard to protect my people? This must be some sick joke-”

“They are all I have left.” Riva stated through clenched teeth. “These men are the only troops within the realm that I can spare. All other troops are otherwise occupied. If you cannot accept them then you will receive no assistance.”

Lloyd jut his chin out his chest rising and falling quickly. “I’ll take them. Here.” He shoved several letters into one of the guards chest. “I hope you can decipher these better than I could.”

*****

She couldn’t. The letters were in some kind of code and addressed with false names and places. They were absolutely no help in finding the spy within the palace.

“I wish I could just see who it is. Why can’t I have a vision that tells me who the spy is?”

Ergil looked at her solemnly. “The Powers that Be work in strange ways. There’s no way to know what they are thinking or why they do things.” He was helping her look over the letters. “Princess, without some kind of hint to start with, most of this is guesswork. We need some kind of key.”

“I know. I just had all my hopes riding on these. I’ve got nothing else.” Riva muttered bitterly.

“We’ll get ‘em, Princess. No doubt about that.”

Riva put her head in her hands and rubbed her eyes delicately. “Really? How do you figure?”

“I just know so, your Majesty.”

Riva laughed. “Alright, if you say so. I’ve got to go check on the prodigies. Maybe I’ll see you later tonight.”

The “prodigies” were a long way off from their namesakes meaning. Riva had convinced a few of the military leaders to teach them a little in the ways of fighting and stratagem. They were more interested in how to fight a war than how to rule a people anyway.

Riva had noticed that there were two groups among the boys, the ones born from high places and the ones born in low ones. Some of the fights that broke out had many of the boys in bed for weeks. Riva let the military leaders punish them, they were used to boys and knew how to handle them. Jessaw would come and meet with Riva at the same time every night to report and to ask questions. His frankness and fierce inner code of right and wrong made him likable and easy to talk to. In ways he reminded her of Glen, who had a similar fierce moral code.

Jessaw started bringing some friends and the meetings turned into open discussions. They would talk about any number of things. Riva opened the library to them and would read with them when they had trouble. Many were still learning their letters and didn’t take to books easily. Riva did her best to ease the transition.

“Princess?”

“Just Riva, Mark. What do you need?”

Mark blushed in embarrassment. “Uh, R-Riva, what does it mean when it says...”

Different boys showed interest in different things. Mark liked law, Geoffry wanted to travel and was constantly asking about other countries. Languages, however, were beyond him and he abhorred learning them. Jessaw wanted to know more about strategy. He was determined to become a commander.

“You know what I don’t understand?” Jessaw said once. “Is why the Colonel is always sulking around. I mean he should be happy! He’s got a great position and has men under him and everything but he’s always a sourpuss.”

Riva had a hard time not laughing at Jessaw. She was sure that his outspokenness got him into trouble and endless hours of punishment. “He seems fine when I talk to him. Maybe it’s just the way you smell that makes him have such a sour face.” She murmured quietly.

Jessaw stuck out his tongue.

Riva smiled and a thought struck her. “Jessaw, you know how to pick locks, right?”

“Yep, had to learn to stay alive.”

“Will you teach me?”

His face lit up. “Sure! It’s easy really...”

It wasn’t. But Riva kept at it until she got the feel and could do it consistently if at a excruciatingly slow pace.

*****

“Princess!! We’re under attack!” Jessaw came through the study door, face pale and eyes feverish. “Sealidans snuck in and they’ve got a-”

A huge crash shook the study and Riva tipped over in her chair to fall to the floor.

“A CATAPULT!! They’ve got a @#*$% catapult!” Jessaw yelled over the noise.

Riva pushed herself up and grabbed Jessaw. “Never repeat that word in my presence! Ye Gods, I thought we’d taught you better. Get the boys together, I’m going to need all the help I can get. Have they tried breaching the walls yet? Do you know how many there are?”

Jessaw shook his head. “No, Kadric says he thinks they know about the protections around the palace. He also said it was a small group that snuck in but there is a larger army outside the city. They’ve started to lay siege, he said.”

“Good, go! Get the rest!”

Thank the gods I didn’t send any of the regular soldiers with Gareth. While the Palace itself was wide open to take, the walls and barracks were still well stocked and manned. What I don’t understand is how they got a hold of a catapult within the city. Shouldn’t they be well guarded? Thoughts were whirling through her head as she made her way through the halls to her closed study. She found her bow and a quiver and was on her way out when Kadric appeared, red faced and huffing.

“We (huff) can’t hold them. (Deep huff) They’ll be through (huff) -oh gods- (huff) the west wall soon.”

Riva bit her lip. The men on the walls would be preoccupied and most of the men from the barracks would probably be at the city walls too, not here at the palace. “How many men do you think made it in?”

“Seven or eight.(huff) They’re using the gardens as their base. (huff) Two are shooting down anyone who get close. (Final huff) The others are using the catapult at close range, my spells can’t take it.”

How did they get this close to the capital without us hearing about it?

Jessaw knocked. Riva strode out to find ten or eleven boys with swords ready and no armor. I can’t attack head on. They’d pick us off in minutes.

“We’re ready.” Came the proud statement.

Riva wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh or cry. She was the same age as these boys and they expected her to lead them. I’m going to get them all killed.

A shudder went through her and she gasped as she was thrown into yet another vision.

Glen was screaming for the cavalry to move. They were supposed to split the enemy’s infantry and they weren’t getting enough momentum. The King rode up beside him bringing his guard. “What’s holding them?”

Glen shook his head in frustration. “This mud, it’s making everything harder.” Rain was pouring without mercy. “Your Majesty, we should pull back. This isn’t a victory we need and I don’t feel that-”

A feather sprouted from the King’s neck. His personal guard swarmed around him and pulled him from his horse, but it was too late. The king was dead.

Glen drew his sword and kicked his horse around in the direction of the trees. His eyes widened and he shouted. “They’re coming! To me, men to me!”

As if he had given the signal men poured from the trees. Shooting and hacking at any flesh they could get at. Mud and grass streaked across their faces and clothes. Glen fought from horseback and somehow broke through the throng of men that converged against him. Their cavalry was now knee deep in infantry and waiting for the rest of the army to follow, but no help would come because of the ambush. Their forces were being split and Glen knew it. He chased after the cavalry trying to call any who would back, to retreat and help in the main force.

Something struck him from behind and he toppled to the ground a large dent in his armor. He looked up from the mud and watched one of his own glare down at him.

Glen gasped for air. “You... I thought.”

“You thought you’d gotten us all. But you were wrong, there are spies here and in the palace just waiting to let our men in.” He laughed. “And now that you’re the Alsteare’s second. You are going to buy me a pretty penny from the King.”

The butt of a lance ended the conversation.

Riva staggered backward and slowly the noise around her permeated her thoughts.

“Princess!”

“Riva! Can you hear me?”

Another crash sounded through the palace. Riva steadied herself and called out. “Kadric, find as many members of the Council as you can! Let’s go.” She told the young men.

“Jessaw you will take the group and go the long way around the gardens, Benson knows the maze best. Use it as cover and get as close as you can to the catapult. DON’T DO ANYTHING STUPID!” She ordered him. “Keep everyone alive and stay down. Move when there is an opening.

“Doesn’t matter. MOVE!”

Riva exited through her study and observed from the balcony. The catapult was positioned on a hill that was backed with a wall. That’s stupid. They don’t have an escape route. Unless it was a suicide mission, but Riva didn’t think so. The remaining men from the Palace Guard had set up a defensive wall with benches and potted trees. From the bodies that littered the area between the two, there had obviously been several foiled attempts to rush the invaders.

Riva climbed down from her balcony and headed towards the defenders. If they played their cards right they could take them without losing too many.

A squad of men from the barracks rushed in and effectively killed the last of the palace’s defenders.

Riva’s blood went cold. Traitors. You are all traitors. Anger bubbled up within her and without even realizing what she was about to do, she called upon fire. It sprang to her fingers eager to lick up her energy, to eat anything in it’s path. When she was in striking distance she unleashed it on the unsuspecting men.

Many beat at their clothes trying to put it out. A few saw the threat and charged. Riva pulled two arrows from her quiver and guided them with air to their hearts. Anger made everything sharper, clearer. It was like someone else had control of her body and she was watching from a distance, taking each man down. Within a few seconds the squad was dead and the eight men stationed on the hill had their attention on her. Four were constantly reloading and firing the catapult while the others were armed with crossbows and bows. Arrows flew toward her. She ducked down, trying not to smell the burned flesh and look at the charred bodies. A bolt sprouted through a pallet of wood near her head.

She was breathing heavily from the heavy use of magic. The smoking remains around her finally were too much and she turned and vomited. They would’ve killed you in a heartbeat. They were bad men who would have hurt even more people. An arrow clattered overhead, bringing her back to the present situation. That’s right! I have to keep their attention.

With shaking hands, Riva selected an arrow and put it in her bow. It had been a long time since she had actually put her skills to use. She only hoped they held. In a swift motion she brought her body up in a kneeling position, aimed quickly and carefully (Glen had drilled this into her) and fired. Then she hunkered back down having no clue if her arrow had found its mark.

Another arrow, another shot. After three more shots and two close brushes with one in the head. She heard Jessaw charge from the bushes. Stupid, stupid boy! You are supposed to be a surprise attack!

She came up and aimed, firing her arrow and killing one of the archers before he could kill Jessaw. That made three dead from Riva’s arrows, the odds were now five to eleven. As Riva took aim again, she watched Jessaw dodge and slice at a bigger man. Jessaw took a long slice at the shoulder but was able to get close enough to shove his sword in his gut. It stuck there and Jessaw had to back away to avoid a last desperate cut. Riva fired and watched another man fall. Three to nine. Two boys had fallen, whether they were dead or not, she didn’t know.

It was a short battle. While the boys weren’t as well trained, the survival instinct was apparent in their styles. Only Jessaw was crazy enough to take a fully trained man one on one. By the time Riva had reached them the rest of the men were dead and only three of the boys were badly wounded. None had died.

Silently Riva thanked the heavens and organized the boys into making stretcher and bandages. Everyone would live.

“Jessaw, I have to get to Kadric. Can you take care of the rest?”

Jessaw nodded unfazed by the battle. “Sure.”

Riva stopped. “Jessaw, do you know how to work this thing?”

He grinned.

“Riva! Princess! There’s fighting at the walls!!” Kadric was running through the gardens. He was red in the face and panting heavily. Staggering, he tried to step over a short hedge. His foot caught and his arms windmilled to help keep his balance. Sweat was flowing freely and soaking his dark robe.

Riva struggled not to laugh, her face screwing up. “Kadric-” she covered her mouth with one hand. “Are you alright?”

“I’m-” between each word he huffed and took a deep breath. “fine. I’m fine.” He weakly pointed toward the western wall. “There. They’re fighting. Our own men are fighting each other.”

Riva cursed.

“I thought you said never to repeat that word in your presence.” Jessaw muttered.

“It was the first one I could think of thanks to you!” She snapped. “Beson, Mike, Daniel bring the catapult to the western wall. Jessaw, get everyone else together and let’s go.” She put a hand on Kadric’s back, he was still breathing hard. “Kadric, do you think you can make it?”

He waved a hand. “I’ll catch up. Just gimme a sec.”

“Hurry, I may need you.” She motioned to the others. “Jessaw, let’s go.”

*****

They ran to the walls, Riva got a hold of a short sword. The closer they got to the wall the thicker the throng of people. Everyone was yelling, struggling to either get away or get toward the fighting. Screams and cries of pain filled the air. Clashes of metal.

Riva looked back to see if Jessaw was following. They were shoving people left and right, creating a pathway. Jessaw grinned, noticing how much trouble she was having. He bulldozed through, going before her and the others.

The scene before them was a disaster. Men from the barracks and the Palace Guard were fighting each other, no one knew who was friend or foe. Bodies from both sides littered the wall and the wide streets in front of the gate. Commander Bradshaw was in the thick of it. “Men, to me! To me! Guard the gate!”

“Jessaw!” Riva screamed for his attention. When he turned his head, she pointed to the Commander. “Take us to the gates.”

The boys had formed a tight circle around Riva before she could protest. They would move more slowly, and they weren’t going to have much room to maneuver; it could get some of them killed. Soon they were through the worst of the battle, anyone who attempted to hinder the group was quickly dispatched. Their complete trust in each other was apparent in the young men’s teamwork. Despite the death and carnage that resulted, Riva couldn’t help but be impressed.

“Commander Bradshaw! What’s going on?” Riva yelled over the noise.

His brow furrowed. “Princess, you shouldn’t be away from the safety of the palace. It’s too danger-”

“Commander, I don’t have time for this argument. Answer the question, what happened?”

He pursed his lips but went on to explain. “Several men from our barracks went rouge and tried to open the gates to the men waiting outside our gates. Fortunately I had my own men stationed here and some of the men from the palace were able to prevent the disaster.” Every line in his face frowned. “This stinks of traitors, Princess. There’ve been rumors but I would’ve never believed it could be my own soldiers.”

The battle was escalating around them. He turned his focus on the matter at hand.

“What do you need done, Commander?” Riva asked. She liked him. Unless this was an elaborate plot to fool her into trusting him, she believed he was too war weary and hardened to fall for Sealidan’s lures.

“I need you to be somewhere safe, Princess.”

Riva was tempted to sigh. “Right now, I can’t afford to be safe, Commander. If these men get the gate open then it’s all over for us.” She selected an arrow and shot an enemy in the unprotected area at his neck.

“Excellent shot, your Majesty. If I may say so.”

He sounded impressed despite himself. Riva smiled grimly. Never thought I’d actually have to kill someone with this.

“My men will hold them off. We’ll pick them off as they come, your Majesty. You men in front.” Bradshaw hollered at Jessaw and the others. Together all of the Commander’s men formed a half circle around the gates and kept anyone who dared approach at bay. Civilians and men-at-arms attempted to get them open. The portcullis had already been raised and the army outside the gates were preparing to enter the city. The only thing between them their goal was a line of archers on the walls and the Commander’s men. Riva hoped that the enemy would wait for the gates to open rather than break the gates down.

Their luck held. One by one they killed anyone who posed a threat. Riva kept a look out for hidden archers and took any clear shot she could get.

Most of the fighting had already been done, in a few minutes the battle was over and they still had control of the city. Benson, Daniel and Mike came with the catapult.and the Commander directed them in using it against the enemy.

“Commander, would you mind escorting me to the palace? I believe we have some business to attend to there.”

He was hesitant to leave his men.

“Organize them as you need to, but with or without you they will fight the best they know how.” Riva reminded him softly.”I’d like your assistance at the palace.”

The Commander bowed. “As you wish, your Majesty.”

Together they made their way to the palace.

*****

By the time Kadric had caught his breath the battle at the gate had been over. He had reverted to his first orders and retreated to the palace to gather as many of the Council members as he could

When Riva and the Commander walked into the room, silence fell. Riva glanced around the room. Everyone was here. Kadric approached her. “The gates?”

She nodded her assurance, eyes still wandering the room.

Captian Shandrake stepped forward. “Princess, we have a small force stationed outside the city walls. I do not believe that they will be able to breach the wall without more support, but they might be able to cut off our supplies.”

Riva’s eyes riveted to him and she gazed at him long and hard. “Captain, I witnessed an entire squad of your men attack the Palace Guard. I also saw our men fighting against each other at the gates.”

The Captain’s face darkened. The Commander spoke solemnly, “I take responsibility for their traitorous actions. I thought that I had weeded out all of the filth within my walls.”

“Well, we haven’t.” Riva examined each face. In her head she was making mental eliminations. No, it can’t be them. It’s not Nadsady, he wouldn’t have access. Someone who would have influence on the men in the barracks and could get a catapult right outside our doors. That left Colonel Merrel and Captain Shandrake. I have to be sure.

She examined the two men. Captain Shandrake looked troubled and worried, his brows pulled in and down. Colonel Merrel also looked concerned, but now that Riva was looking for it she could see his mouth starting to sneer in disgust and anger. No, now it was gone. Riva cursed silently. She didn’t know. If she was wrong it could days before they sorted out who was really a spy. Ah, curse it. She had to make a decision now. “Colonel, you knew that they would betray us. Didn’t you?”

The Colonel scoffed. “Your Majesty, I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He’s a better liar then I thought. Riva faced him forcing her expression to be haughty and indifferent. “Oh please, how stupid do you think I am? A catapult? Do you really think that the enemy just happened to know where one was and how to get it into the palace gardens? But, it doesn’t really matter what you say. You see captured one of the men. He was very interested in making a deal with me. He said he would name names. He gave me yours on good faith. So you tell me, Colonel, why shouldn’t I put you in chains and execute you right now for treason?”

He wasn’t rising to the bait. “Your Majesty, he was surely lying. You can’t believe the enemy, especially when threatening their lives. They’ll say anything in order to live.”

“Really? So the ambush planned on the King’s army is all a lie, too?”

The Colonel’s face began to go pale.

HA! That got your attention. Riva thought gleefully. She was sure it was the Colonel now. “Colonel, I’m going to put you in chains until I am more certain of the situation.” She nodded to Kadric. He stepped forward but the Colonel was faster.

In a flash the Colonel had a knife at Riva’s throat. “NO ONE MOVES!” He pointed accusingly at Kadric. “And if I see any fancy stuff from you, your precious princess dies.”

Riva smiled at Kadric who looked purple in the face, assuring him that she would be just fine. She reviewed her options. All of her instincts came to the same conclusion.

Raising a hand she pulled the air from his lungs. A loud whoosh sounded and she could feel him panic. Desperately he grabbed at his throat. Riva slithered out of his arms, careful to watch the knife. When he realized she was the cause, he thrashed out at her. She stepped back, safely out of his reach. Kardric threw up his own hands, using raw energy to force him against the wall. Finally Merrel fell to the floor, unconscious and they both released their hold.

There was a moment of silence, both Kadric and Riva watched Colonel Merrel as if he would jump up. Kadric bent over, breathing hard. Riva felt light headed. Blowing out steadily she looked around the room. Most of the Council members were staring, glancing at each other. Completely uncomfortable with the situation they were in. Oh well, There was nothing Riva could do about it.

“Kadric will you make sure that he is put in the dungeon. We need to find out what he knows.” She turned to the Commander. “I believe that there are others, but none so high up as he was. Find them and put them in prison for questioning. Now, we need to set up a defence for the outer wall. How many are there?”

If the Commander or the Captain Shandrake were surprised at her sudden ability to use magic they kept it well hidden. Bradshaw and Shandrake unfolded a map placing candlesticks and goblets to keep it flat. “Here, they have stationed roughly five hundred cavalry and two thousand in infantry. They are well supplied by wagons but aren’t prepared for a siege. They’ve spread their forces around the west side of the city. How they were able to get a this many men and supplies this far into the kingdom is beyond me.”

Yes, that had been bothering Riva too. How come the enemy always had the jump on them? How come they were always able to get past things with such ease? Just because they had information from spies didn’t mean they could slip an army of this size past the border and through all the regions between.

“Make sure the walls are impassable. I don’t want to find out about secret tunnels and sewers after they’ve been able to sneak in. Find all possible entrances and make sure they are blocked or heavily guarded, and I mean heavily. If you can’t put enough guards, block it off. On the walls I want anyone who can hold a bow or crossbow. Let’s get barrels of oil that we can light and catapult them.”

The Commander nodded.

Quickly they outlined a defence and started on an offence.

Riva’s war had just begun.

*****

Riva’s plan was simple. The idea was to preserve as many lives as possible. That meant using the most underhanded and sneaky tactics they could concoct. Jessaw never failed to come up with a new mischievous plots. At night volunteers would slip out sewer tunnels and would poison their water, ruin all their food supplies, soil blankets, put itchy pepper in beds, cut holes in tents, things would spontaneously combust (Riva and Kadric’s doing), their camps would flood, traps were set everywhere and life was pretty horrible.

Riva and the Commander watched from a distance. While they waited for the troops to curse their lives and wish for home. They set up traps for spies. The news of the Colonel’s arrest was kept a close guarded secret and his name was useful in identifying other spies. Once a spy was caught they were questioned and either tricked or threatened into spitting out what they knew. Riva made sure she looked into the eyes of every single one they caught. Most of the underlings didn’t know much. They were just there to gather information and send it on. They didn’t actually get much back, but the Colonel, he had information.

Riva went to his cell everyday. “You going to tell me what I want to know?”

The Colonel wouldn’t even look up. “What’s that?”

The first couple of day she wanted names, then she wanted enemy information. How did they know so much? How did they get five hundred armed men through the border?

He never answered. Sometimes he would grunt or shrug but never a definite answer.

Finally one day she asked. “Let’s say they captured a prisoner who would have useful information. Where would they keep him?”

He looked back, a question in his eyes, but an obvious refusal to answer.

She sighed wearily. She’d never tried to hurt the Colonel, it seemed... it was like she was turning into one of them. After she had killed the squad with fire nightmares filled with the stench and bodies plagued her. She didn’t want to be saddled with the guilt of hurting a imprisoned man who didn’t even have a weapon. So when she did visit him, mostly she just asked questions and put forth her own opinions or theories or ideas on the matter. “Would they keep him near the capital? In an outpost? What are they going to do with him?”

Glen... Glen. How she wanted to go and help him! He was probably in his own dungeon being tortured or hurt in some way and she couldn’t leave because of the army and they duty that surrounded her. “I wish I could see him.” She whispered. A vision hadn’t manifested itself in weeks.

“Who are you talking about?”

Riva glanced up hopefully. It had been the first time she’d heard him speak since his arrest.

The Colonel grunted disdainfully realizing he’s been lured into the conversation and turned his back to her.

Fine. Don’t talk to me. I’ll figure it out on my own.

*****

That night Riva had the same dream at least three times. It began with the Colonel speaking and when he spoke bugs and snakes would crawl out of his mouth. The birds would swoop down, eat them and die. The dream morphed, and one of the snakes would slither away only to meet a scorpion. And before she could see whether they would fight or not she would wake up.

Riva sat in bed feeling cheated. I know I’m supposed to get something from this. Why would I have the same dream three times if it wasn’t obviously a warning? What is the scorpion?

She thought she understood the first part. The Colonel was the spy, he spoke lies and deceits. Which the people of Alsteare swallowed up and then lost men in consequence. But what was the scorpion? and what did the lies of the Colonel have to do with it?

There was no way she was going to be able to sleep now. With a long sigh, she threw the covers off and went out to the balcony. Tiny lights lit the hills around the walls. So far attacks had been minimal. Neither side had the man power to take the other out. Riva couldn’t send untrained men and women to fight them, even if they outnumbered the invaders. She didn’t have enough men to cover both the walls and go on the offensive. They couldn’t get messages out, but maybe...

Riva was hoping that civilians who were trying to get to the capital would relay the message that they were under attack. Commander Bradshaw told her that if they had any troops to spare they would be sent to help. What Riva didn’t understand was why such a small army. Five hundred men was not enough to take the capital, just enough to cut off all supplies. They were deep behind enemies lines and they could easily be overrun. Did they think they were invincible?

It irked her.

She hated not knowing all of the puzzle. What was Sealidan thinking?

*****

“They WHAT?” Riva squeaked.

“They dammed up the river! How many times do you need me to say it? Without water flowing through the city, we won’t last three days.” Kadric practically whispered. “I can’t just pull water out of the air... well actually I could but it wouldn’t be enough and it would take far too much of my energy.”

“Shhh... I’m thinking.” More like screaming: HOW AM I GOING TO GET OUT OF THIS?!?! NO! Stop, I need to think clearly.

She stood and began to pace, her blood and limbs had gone cold from dread and she moved to warm them up. “Get the Commander and the Captain, I need to bounce some ideas off of him.”

Kadric was out the door in a flash.

While he was gone, Riva allowed herself to show weakness. She crumbled to the floor and let her body convulse in fear and pressure. After her mind had shed the surge of adrenaline, numbness set in. Slowly she counted to thirty and wiped silent tears from her face and eyes. By the time her personal war council had arrived she had schooled her expression into a firm mask.

“Commander Bradshaw, Captain Shandrake.” She nodded to each of the men, greeting them. They had come at a run and were no doubt shocked at her eerie calm.

The Commander recovered first, he snapped into a salute. “Your Majesty, the Court Magician said you needed assistance.”

“Yes,” she affirmed, “please sit. We might as well do this in comfort.” After they had settled she began. “If we want to rid ourselves of the entire army, we have to disable their mobile force.”

“You mean their cavalry.” Captain Shandrake chimed in.

Rive nodded solemnly. “My tactics work best if the enemy can’t reach you. If we can get rid of their cavalry it will stop them from reaching our mounted men. I was thinking of using horse archers.” She looked to the Commander questioningly.

A scowl had been permanently fixed on his face for the majority of the meeting. “We don’t have many men, much less trained men. Most of our cavalry went with the bulk of the army and I’m not sure how many archers we have that can shoot accurately from a horse.”

“We don’t need many, just some. We’ll whittle at them slowly and once their numbers have dropped enough we can unleash our infantry. How are the new recruits?”

“Slow.” Came the dry response.

From his tone, she guessed that things were going very, very badly. They had begun training sessions among the people, hoping for some support. They weren’t nearly enough and none of them were sufficiently trained. Her eyes found Kadric’s. “We may have to pull some tricks out.” she murmured quietly, knowing he didn’t like the idea of confronting the enemy directly.

He exhaled shakily. “I’ll start coming up with ideas.”

*****

Riva mounted and let a breath out slowly. Silently she sent a prayer up to the gods for safety and success. The sun had been down for hours and there was no moon that night. Around her hooves shuffled around, snorting. Their hooves had been covered with burlap to muffle the hard clack of steel. Kadric reined his mare in nervously. He was red in the face and very focuses on staying on the horse. Riva hoped he could keep up with the rest of them. In contrast the Commander controlled his steed with one hand and an ease of many years in the saddle.

“Princess, we are ready.”

“Good, ready the gates.” She felt silly giving the Commander orders, but he had said ‘her plans, her orders.’

The heavy doors creaked loudly open. Against the silence of night, it was like a thunder storm overhead. Riva grimaced and noticed that most of the men looked nervous and anxious about the noise.

The Commander looked to her again, awaiting her word.

“Move out!” She signalled with her hand. From this point on, there wouldn’t be a word spoken. The men would have to follow the horse in front of them and it would be too dark outside the walls to see hand signals.

As one the men moved in silence. They split into three groups of a hundred each and charged the camps, with Riva, the Commander and the Captain leading them. Kadric took a smaller force to destroy the dam. He was to wait until the alarm had been raised and everyone had their focus on the main camps.

Earlier that night, Riva had sent the best to take out all the sentries. Without their warning, they could get close enough to the camps to do serious damage. Hopefully the three pronged attack would confuse the enemy and split their forces. Maybe they’ll just lie down and let us trot over their bodies while they’re at it. Riva thought ruefully.

As they approached the camp the torch and fire light seemed to get brighter. Riva drew her short sword and clamped her mouth shut, keeping a battle cry tucked safely behind clenched teeth. In silence the tore through tents, flesh and picketed horses. If any of the horses broke free the men who had already made a sweep through the camp were to herd them back into the city if they could. These men knew the terrain while the enemy didn’t. It would be harder for them to follow in the dark.

Riva snatched a torch and lit anything she could reach. Tents around her exploded in flame and heat. Slowly the alarm spread through the camp and Riva signaled her men to get out, yelling at them to hurry. Raising her torch up above her head she screamed and charged farther into the camp. The men around her were reaching their horses and weapons. While her men escaped she forced her way deeper into the camp, leaving a clear path of flaming tents and wagons behind her. Several times men would form a wall of spears that would bar her way. Using a fistful of air she would shove them apart, opening her way once again. Panic welled up inside of her. Eventually she would run out of the power and she would be surrounded by men who hated her and would treat her with no mercy. She had to reach the other side of the camp.

Hands grabbed her legs and her horse reared as sharp points pricked his sides. Silently she prayed for forgiveness for the death she was causing and hack at fingers and limbs. Screams echoed in her ears, her own, animal’s and men’s. Pain shot up through her scalp as she was dragged off her horse by the hair. She screamed and lashed out with her power, fear and pain putting more force than was needed. Two men within two feet her literally fell to pieces. Riva gasped and reined in her panic. She didn’t want to lose control. She didn’t want to kill more than she had to.

Shakily she got to her feet, images of the two men’s faces replaying in her head over and over. The taste of vomit was in her mouth as she mounted and continued her trek.

When the seemingly endless tents and hordes of men trickled away to a clear night sky, Riva shouted in a hoarse wordless relief still waving a newly found torch. Looking back she noticed she had accumulated quite the band of followers. Dear gods, please guide me. She kicked her horse into a faster gallop, yelling encouragement to him.

Behind her she could her harsh voices doing the same to their mounts.

Dread began to creep into her bones. Come on! Come on! Stupid horse, they told me you were the fastest horse in the entire city, now show me! She wouldn’t spoken out loud but fear had sucked all the water from her mouth and she couldn’t seem even whisper them quietly to herself against the rushing wind.

The ground dipped abruptly, her horse stumbled and struggled to right itself. Riva held on, tossing her torch to one side, and lifted a hand, feeling for the water that should be rushing to meet her. There you are. Thank the gods! Kadric did it.

She kicked her horse up out of the mucky river bottom, it’s hooves making loud sucking sounds at each tug against the mud. Riva pulled the water down toward her, urging it to hurry. Just as she was about to be overtaken by a swarm of men and horse flesh, water flooded back into its place and over the river bed. She had been saving her power for this.

Riva’s horse scampered away from the danger, not needing any guidance from its rider. Riva couldn’t guide it. She was too focused on mixing the water with the ground. Mud, become mud. She whispered to it. A sinkhole. A marsh. Become soft, take them. Take them all. The earth was taking all the water, slipping out of its solid form and into a more viscous state. The men that hadn’t been hit by the initial wave of water were sucked a good two feet into the ground. Their horses struggled vainly against the thick mud, the more they struggled the more earth they pulled up and the deeper the sink hole became. The men in panic, leapt off their horses only to find they couldn’t move either.

Riva panted, pulling more and more water to mix into the hard earth and stone. Her power wasn’t going to last much longer. She could already feel the effects of overuse. Her body desperately wanted to rest and her mind could barely focus on the task at hand. Her vision blurred slightly.

She gasped as a red hot stab of pain shot through her lower back. Her grasp on the water slipped and she struggled to get it back. More, she needed more. Oh gods, it hurts. Make it stop.

Behind her she heard a yell and turned to see two men on horseback. One with a bow readying to fire an arrow and the second bearing down on her with a sword raised to take her head off. She released her hold on the water and yanked her short sword of her scabbard getting up just in time. The force of his blow knocked her clear of her horse to the ground, her arm felt like it had tingled unpleasantly and her hand ached. When she hit the ground she gasped as a white flash of pain shot up her side and her vision blurred. Riva rolled on to her back and cried out, feeling another sharp jolt of pain as what must’ve been an arrow was shoved deeper into her back her vision was getting dangerously close to a deeper black. Weakly she tried to get her sword arm up in front of her, her arms felt like lead. Her body was too exhausted, she wasn’t going to be able to force off another attack.

“Princess!!”

She heard a thud and a wicker of a panicked horse.

Her overstimulated mind somehow drew the conclusion that the threat had been annihilated. Her arm fell heavily to her side and she took several shallow breaths. I’m alive. I’m okay. Her body relaxed and she closed her eyes in relief.

*****

Glen was being dragged away. At first the guards had tried to make him walk on his own, kicking him occasionally when he stumbled or fell. Eventually he fell and didn’t get back up, after several blows. Riva’s heart broke. She desperately wanted to go to him, to make the pain go away. The guards cursed, annoyed that they had to carry the prisoner.  They picked him up between them and for the first time Riva got a good look at his face in the torchlight of the dungeons.

His hair was matted with blood, now it looked red more than the dark shade of brown. Thinner, bruises and cuts marred his face and body, dirt and sweat covered his ripped clothes and skin. He smelled of death.

The guards passed Riva. She tried to run after them, but her feet couldn’t grip the ground. It was like she was floating in the air, unable to push off the walls or use the air in anyway. Suspended in nothingness and completely helpless. Soundlessly she screamed.

Her dream changed, she was now surrounded by people, masses and masses of desperate and filthy people. Their feet were covered with strips of cloth and their thin shoulders had thin grey shawls. The ground was frozen, her feel could feel the chill emulate from it. It was winter and these people weren’t going to last long in the cold. In the distance she could hear women’s cries and men’s howls of laughter. She shuddered, only able to imagine the horrors that were happening. She glided between the huddles of grey knowing that she was witnessing the results of war. These were refugees fleeing the battle ground, without a place to live.

Women and children pulled the injured on carts. They would be dead by morning.

Tears stung in Riva’s eyes, she didn’t want to see more. Slowly she drifted farther into horror. She was in the army’s camp. The dream informed her that this was the nature of war, what she was about to see was what happened to men’s hearts. Closing her eyes didn’t shield her against the images she saw: drunken men, starving children, abused women. It was chaos, fear and despair. No one was human anymore. It was like they had died and become less than animals. To think that this war had been on and off for a century.

Riva mentally sank to the floor as one scarring and defiling image after another assaulted her. Why was she seeing this? Why was she being forced through this pain?

Again the dream changed. Now it was blisteringly hot. She gasped at the drastic change in temperature. Air, she needed air. Trying to loosen her collar she realized that her arms were buried in the sand, heavy, burning sand. From her neck down she was buried, unable to move. It was so hot. Sweat was dripping liberally from her face, stinging her eyes. Air!

Movement flashed in her peripheral and she glanced over. A scorpion examined her, it’s small pincers held up and forward toward her. It moved slowly toward her. She couldn’t breathe, in her bones she knew that if she was stung she was dead. She started to hyperventilate, her chest pressing against the sand walls uncomfortably. Hot sticky air, only made breathing more difficult. She watched the scorpion as it inched its way toward her. Just as it was a foot away, three more poked their pincers out of the sand. Suddenly scorpions were crawling out of the sand all around her, multiplying at an exponential rate.

Riva’s breathing became ragged and soft sobs escaped frequently. They would begin to crawl all over her soon. Whimpering without inhibition, Riva began to cry.

“Princess! Princess, please wake up!”

“Glen? Glen?” Riva gasped, sucking in cold crisp air. Every breath made her back ache and burn hotly. She gripped a hand tightly.

“No, Princess. It’s me, Jessaw.”

Riva’s eyes were adjusting to the darkness. She could see him now, his round face pulled down in concern. “Jessaw.” She relaxed and forced herself to slow her breathing. The events of the night catching up with her “Jessaw, I think I’m going to be sick.”

Jessaw jumped up looking around desperately for something. In the end he brought the heavy porcelain wash bowl Riva used every morning. He helped her sit up and patted her back as she threw up everything in her stomach. She tried to throw up three more times, but her stomach was empty. So she heaved and heaved with only little result. Jessaw stayed next to her, holding the bowl ready.

After about a half an hour her breathing had slowed. He murmured quietly, “I have to go get Kadric and Ergil. They’ll want to see you. I’ll be right back.” Gently he stroked her forehead and left the room. The way that he treated her made Riva wonder if she’d been thrashing or screaming. Her throat did feel raw, but she had just thrown up so that could be the reason...

Ergil reached her room first. His face looked as it always did, but Riva could see the slight pull of his lips. He was worried. He came to her side and smoothed her hair from her face. “Princess, you had us worried there for a while.”

Kadric stormed in with much for flare, gasping and puffing air. “Riva!” The relief in his voice was evident. Had she been about to die?

“Kadric, what happened?”

He smacked his forehead. “Of course, you don’t know. Our plan worked, the sink hole caught most of their horses and men.” He swallowed as if there was something bad in his mouth and he couldn’t spit it out. “Their cavalry was cut down to a third of what it was. The Commander has been picking off their infantry, I must say he is very good at his business.” He said this too, with a tang of bitterness. “The threat from the men outside has been annulled. Hopefully we can start up trade again and rebuild what we need to.”

Jessaw had entered the room solemn faced.

So much had happened. “How long have I been asleep?”

The three glanced at each other. Kadric’s face was the easiest to read. She calls that sleep?

Jessaw answered. “You was poisoned, Princess. The arrow they shot you with had poison on it. You’ve been asleep for nearly a week.”

Riva relaxed into the pillows with a small sigh, thinking about the days she had lost and the dreams she had had in their stead. Absently she whispered, “You were poisoned. Not was.”

“The Sealidans were sick of being harassed, so they took things into their own hands. We lost a lot of good soldiers to their arrows.” Kadric mourned.

Silence fell over the four of them.

Riva swallowed, trying to wet her dry mouth. “I need to think. Jessaw, would you stay? Kadric, Ergil I know you have other business, I won’t keep you away from it.”

They all nodded, Kadric looked about to object but he heard the dismissal. Ergil bent over and kissed her forehead. His eyes full of fire.

Jessaw settled into a soft chair near her bed and grasped her hand, squeezing it gently.

“Did I scream?” Riva whispered.

A haggard look passed over Jessaw’s face as he nodded.

Keeping her voice low Riva squeezed his hand back. “I’m sorry you had to hear that. You stayed whenever you could, didn’t you?”

She had never seen him this solemn and quiet. Again he just nodded, keeping his head down.

“What’s wrong, Jessaw? Why won’t you talk to me?”

After several moments he whispered. “I thought you was going to die. I thought you was gonna die, just like mam.” He broke into tears and put his head down on her pillow, stifling his sobs.

Riva heaved her arm up and over, it was weirdly light and heavy. She couldn’t feel all of it at the same time, numbly she stroked his hair. She didn’t bother to correct his grammar, he tended to slip when he got emotional about something.

They stayed there for a while, comforting each other. Eventually Jessaw began to snore softly, his face finally relaxing into a peaceful expression.

As she watched his face she could feel exhaustion seeping into her numb and throbbing body. She was so tired. And too afraid to go back to sleep.

*****

For the next weeks a new urgency was instilled in Riva. Glen. She had to get to Glen.

Now that the Kingdom was back in the clear financially and she had Kadric, Ergil and Jessaw to keep things in check, she felt secure about leaving. The spies were being hunted down and destroyed one by one and the army outside the walls was slowly waning.

Raids were attempted in rapid succession under the Commander experience hand. With the enemy’s cavalry gone the only threat were the polearms and they could easily be flanked or surprised. Alsteare found good use in horse archers. They were mobile, fast and deadly if used against a slower force.

Riva never set foot out into the battle front again.

Dreams haunted her and the feel of her power engulfing a life in flame or slicing through muscle, sinew and bone was not one she wished to experience again. There were times when she was convinced that she was being punished for taking their lives by being forced to live through their deaths over and over as night came.

Ergil found her one night in her study. He had a report in his hand. When she looked up at his footsteps he waved the sheets as an explanation. “‘Nother spy, found and disabled.”

They sat in silence.

“You haven’t been sleeping well.”

Riva shook her head. She didn’t want to sleep anymore.

“Why?”

Their eyes met. He knew why, but he wanted to hear her say it. And Riva respected him too much not to answer, “Dreams of the ones I’ve killed.” She said simply, no more explanation was needed.

“They would’ve killed you in a second. They came to kill you and your people. What else were you to do?”

Riva put down the material she had been reading in frustration. “You don’t think I tell myself that every time I see their faces? They were still living beings, people with families, desires, plans for the future, and I took all of that away from them.”

“What about your people? What about their hopes and dreams? What about their homes? This is their land and the Sealidans had no right to be here. Doesn’t that have meaning?” Whenever Ergil spoke it was softly, logically and always in questions. Trying to make her think and turn her thoughts in a new direction, to make her ask herself the things she had been avoiding.

Riva had no answer to his questions.

“Perhaps, Your Majesty, you should consider that every life you took saved hundreds of innocent ones. Life is something to be treasured, but we should never feel the need to remorse for protecting our lives, freedom and families.”

He stood and placed the report on her desk.

“They aren’t men you should lose sleep over. Their lives were forfeit when they entered the carnage called war.” His eyes rose to meet hers. “As is yours.”

Without another word or explanation he left.

Riva put her head in her hand and sighed. “Your wisdom is too far beyond my years, old man. What good is advice if I don’t know what it means?”

*****

“I’m leaving tomorrow night.” She informed the Council. “I’m leaving the conducting of our meetings in Kadric’s hands.”

There were some who stood in anger, whether at her abandonment or Kadric’s command she wasn’t sure. Most sat in silence, probably plotting how to take control while I’m away. Riva shook her head. No, that wasn’t fair. They had supported her when she’d needed it. There were good men on the Council, men she’d come to trust and others to respect.

Wearily she motioned for silence. “I’m leaving for selfish reasons, I have no excuse and don’t wish to leave one. I only know that I will forever regret my decision if events should go badly.” She paused and looked each man in the eye. “You do not need me. You never have. I know that you all have the capability to rule Alsteare with justice and wisdom. I know that you can keep our people alive and safe. I only ask that you remember before you seek to place yourselves in a better position, the people of Aslteare. I ask that every action passed will be done for the benefit and good of realm. We will not survive the coming battle if we are divided. Unite under Alsteare’s banner and save her people.”

Silence had filled the room.

“Until I return, I leave Alsteare, my beloved home, in your hands.”

She bowed to the Council, renouncing her title and ruler and placing her trust in them.

Lloyd of Gareth spoke. “Why are you leaving us, Princess? What could possibly be more important that the kingdom you claim to love so much?”

A sharp pain shot through her chest. Is that what you think of me? But it was a fair question, she was abandoning her duty to save the man she believed she loved. She was leaving thousands for the sake of one man.

“Glen, I’m leaving to save Glen. The man that I love.”

A smirk slipped on and off the face of Gareth and murmurs of disapproval swept through the Council. Betrayal. That’s what this was to them.

Riva could feel their eyes weighing down on her, loading her with anger, contempt and disgust. The pain in her chest widened into a throbbing ache.

“This is why a woman should never lead.”

“For a man?”

“How could she?”

Riva let the insults and words wash over her, determined not to cry. She was beyond it, her decision was final. She wasn’t going to back down, it didn’t matter what they thought of her. Resolutely she forced her head higher. A princess acted honorably and didn’t run off without an explanation to anyone. She would be honest and frank with these people. They deserved that.

So why did it hurt so much?

*****

Riva stopped, panting hot and sweaty. The leather reins were sweaty where her hands had been and she wiped them on her clothes, although it didn’t help much. Ettore huffed behind her and snuffled at her hair. Brushing the gelding aside, she murmured, “None of that.” and wiped her brow surprised that there was any water left inside her. All around her was a vast expanse of heat and sand. It never ended.

According to her map she should have been out of the desert three days ago, fortunately she had brought enough food and water for a few more days. That was all, a few more days, there was nothing now and most of her supplies had been for the horse. How was she supposed to get out of here if her horse died?

From reading she knew that she should keep herself covered as much as possible despite the heat, so she had lasted longer than anyone who didn’t know how to handle the desert. Sighing she pulled out her map and looked at it again. Apparently I don’t know enough about navigating, she thought grimly. The sun was high in the sky and impossible to get a direction from, but from last night she’d made sure she was headed north, so what was wrong?

Shoving the map back in its place, she continued on, unsure of what else to do.

*****

Her feet hurt, her lips hurt, her hands hurt, everything hurt, everything was hot. Hurting was good, it meant she was alive. Just keep telling yourself that. She paused and stared out, shaking her head wearily she thought, Why am I doing this? Why can’t I get out of this stupid desert! In anger and frustration she screamed but nothing came out of her dry throat, she blinked several times and swallowed. Then she cackled suddenly realizing that she had been trying to cry but hadn’t been successful from lack of water.

No matter, one foot in front of the other. She started counting her steps, finding nothing better to do.

Long after she had given up counting, her legs gave out. The sand was felt like a hot iron but she didn’t have the strength to stand. Ettore stood over and munched at her clothes. When she didn’t react, he pushed at her with his nose.

Still no reaction.

Becoming increasingly concerned he gently bit her shirt and physically pulled her forward. Riva flailed slightly not exactly enjoying the feeling of scratchy sand up against her skin. Grabbing the reins she pulled herself up and tried to smack the horse. He, in turn, jerked back and trotted away gleefully.

She slumped back onto the ground. “Big tease,” she reached for him and obediently he came. Ginning she stroked his nose. “but you’re one heck of a horse.” He shook his head in agreement. They had become close in the weeks of travel.

Riva had decided that the safest way to reach the capital of Sealidan was to go through the desert that covered a great expanse of the north. She’d also discovered that a large army had come the same way. The border between Alsteare and the desert wasn’t well guarded because the only thing in the desert were the nomads. They had snuck in right up to the capital from the north.

Great minds think a like. She thought wearily. Spots started to appear on her vision and she clung to the reins desperately.

I’m going to die here. The thought was calm and absolute. I’m going to die… I’m sorry, Glen. She looked up at Ettore and sighed. “I don’t see how it’s fair that you have to die with me.” Ettore folded his legs under him and sat against her. Riva knew he was trying to show his loyalty but she couldn’t stop wrinkling her nose. His coat was covered in sweat. “Stupid horse.” She told him and he pointedly ignored the comment. I can’t let him die. She thought with sudden certainty and with that she raised her hand and pushed her life force into the animal. Trying to keep the flow of energy steady, Riva used her other hand to steady herself as she began to sway. Just a little more!

With a great heave she forced any energy left out to her palm. Please, live, she thought as the darkness overcame her.

*****

The shaman knelt before King Racham, “Your Majesty, we have picked up an Alstearian, according to our custom.” His voice didn’t betray his uneasiness but the King already understood it.

Racham waved his hand and ordered all servants and guards alike out. They bowed themselves out and the shaman stood and relaxed. Imad bowed slightly, “Thank you, your Majesty.”

“Why so formal, Imad?” Racham asked tiredly. “And why are you worried about some Alstearian?”

Imad grinned, obviously pleased with his connection to the King. “As you know, sire, we are going to declare war on Alsteare as soon as we are able to get the Umed tribe to cooperate. I am simply considering what to do with the girl.” His eyes gleamed.

Racham shrugged, “Make her a slave, her life is mine according to the Law of the Desert, so I may do what I choose with her.” He played with some stray silk on his coat. “I don’t care what you do. Is she awake yet?”

“Not as of yet, your Majesty.” Imad answered. “I am giving her attention as needed.” King Racham nodded and waved him away. Imad departed to see to the girl.

When he reached the tent she was trying to sit up.

“Don’t move!” Imad yelled in Alstearian and rushed to her, pressing her back onto the thick rug. “You are not completely healed yet.”

“What’s going on? Who are you?” She inquired quietly, her throat causing everything to come out scratchy and raspy.

Imad allowed his energy to enter her, giving it the strength to heal. At the moment it was all she needed, her body was exhausted. All she needed was rest, food and drink. “You are in the tent of King Racham of the Nurvia Desert. I am Imad, Head Shaman of the King.”

*****

Racham stared at the patterns in the tent walls, trying and failing to drown out the droning of the Tribesmen around him. Each was trying to outdo the others by promising more camels or horses for the great army. Their voices were beginning to grate at his nerves.

After another hour of bickering and arguing between the Tribe Heads, Racham could take it no longer. “OUT! All of you out! If you can’t talk to each other civilly then you have no right to keep your heads!”

Needless to say the royal tent was empty within seconds.

Racham threw his head back on the soft cushions and groaned loudly. “Imad! IMAD! Where are you?” When there was no answer, Racham pointed at the guard closest to him. “Bring Imad to me now!”

The guard bowed deeply and strode out the tent entrance purposefully.

The King shifted among his cushions until he was comfortable and sighed contentedly. There was nothing so wonderful as relaxing in his cool tent against the sand and wind. It was beginning to pick up outside and he loved the sound of it hitting the thick walls.

Imade opened the tent flap followed closely by the guard and a young woman. The guard resumed his post. Imad bowed deeply to the King, “You called, your Majesty?”

But Racham was looking at the girl. She was fair, much fairer than he was used to seeing among his kinsman. Her skin was splotchy and red from the sun, she blinked frequently, irritated by the glare of the sun and sand. Her hair was a reddish brown, poking out of the veil she wore. He noticed that the topmost layer had been bleached slightly from exposure to the sun. Her eyes were a dark green, that seemed to change in the light to a blue-grey.

The girl was staring back with equal curiosity. Her eyes roved around the room and the King, taking in everything with a quiet stillness. She seemed tense.

Imad watched the two, and his frown deepened.

Racham dragged his eyes back to Imad. “Does she speak the Words of the Desert?”

“No, your Majesty, only Alstearian. I’m afraid it will be very difficult for her while she is here.” Imad glanced back at the girl with contempt and pity all in one.

The girl spoke quietly to Imad. “Is that the King? What is he saying?”

Imad whirled on her and struck her across the cheek. “DO NOT SPEAK IN FRONT HIS MAJESTY!” She fell to the floor a hand to her cheek, the veil and come off and Racham could see the pain, surprise and betrayal in her eyes and set of her mouth.

She was beautiful.

Racham blinked and looked down. He was standing and breathing heavily. How did this happen? Quickly he sat and positioned himself comfortably on his side.

Imad lowered his voice and helped her fix her veil. “You must NEVER speak in front of a man besides myself. Only speak when spoken to, you are a slave and do not have the right to speak. Do you understand? According to the Law of the Desert you could be executed for the crime you just committed, hopefully the King will see this punishment as enough.”

Racham bristled at the thought of executing the girl for something so trivial. I would never do something so childish. He thought obstinately, but in the back of his mind he reviewed several accounts when he had executed men and women for childish reasons.

The girl was holding back tears of pain and shock. She nodded at what Imad had said and kept her eyes down, fear and terror were barely hidden behind them. It made his heart ache. He wanted her to feel at home, to love the desert as he did.

Racham cleared his throat and tried to sound kingly, speaking in his native tongue. “What is it Imad?”

Imad blinked twice in confusion. “Sire, I thought you had summoned me?”

“Ah, so I did. I wanted to know how the... the uh... the Umed tribe is coming. Weren’t we supposed to receive an answer by today?”

Imad bowed in apology. “Yes, your Majesty, but the wind has picked up. I feel a storm coming, it is unlikely that any messenger will try to travel through it.”

Racham’s eyes flashed in annoyance. “Couldn’t you just get rid of the storm, Imad? I thought you were a Shaman?”

“Yes, Majesty, but it is tiring to control the weather and it can have catastrophic results. Surely you remember the drought we had only a decade ago?” Imad reminded gently.

Racham huffed in impatience. “I just wish we could be done with all of this. I’m sick of having the Tribemen talk off my ears with their arguing and complaints of each other.” His eyes found the girl’s. She had been staring with an expression he couldn’t read.

“What do you plan on doing with her, Imad?”

Imad turned to look at the girl, who guiltily dropped her eyes. “As I am one of the few who can actually speak to her, I was thinking of making her one of my personal slaves. What think you, Majesty?”

Jealousy seared through Racham’s chest, but he held his peace. Of all people. he didn’t want Imad knowing how much he wanted the girl. of how intrigued he was. Imad would never say out loud, but his eyes would do all the talking. He would think less of Racham, think that he was weak for liking a Alstearian wench.

Possessiveness within him fought to claim the girl. One word and she would be his personal slave. Racham’s gaze met Imad’s and for a few moments he mentally ran through what would occur if he followed his desires.

Finally he waved a hand dismissively, “Fine, she is yours. It is only logical. Inform me when the Umed Tribe messenger arrives. I will be here.” He informed Imad, as if he was a busy man with many other places to visit.

“As you command, your Majesty.” With a final bow Imad guided the girl out of the tent and went back to his work.

*****

Riva pulled her veil down over her eyes and well as over her mouth. The wind was now whipping around with unnerving force. Never had she experienced anything like it. She choked on sand that slipped through the thin fabric. Everything about the desert was a new experience. Peeking out between the folds of fabric she glared at her captor, Imad.

Her cheek still stung from the blow he had dealt. While she could see the logic in his actions she couldn’t understand the reason and the emotion behind them.

Usually when she was around a person she could gauge what they were feeling from their facial expressions. The tiniest flinches and twitches could tell you if a person was angry when they were acting pleased, but Imad was a blur of expressions.

When the King had summoned him, she had seen anger, fear, pleasure, indifference and loftiness all within the frame of a second. All throughout their conversation there had been flashes of emotion underlying what Imad said.

He had been angry with her when he had slapped her, truly furious. She could see it in his eyes and then he was gentle with her, sincerely kind and loving. It was like he didn’t know what to feel, or he had too many and so he kept switching at a blindingly fast pace.

Whatever was going on, Riva would have to stay on her toes.

At least the King had been easy enough to read. Riva sighed inwardly, he was a spoiled child who was indulged to a dangerous point. Riva smiled fondly, remembering the look of distress and blood-boiling anger that had appeared on the King’s face after Imad had struck her.

Having a spoilt child for an ally was better than having none.

What concerned her was the gathering they kept referring to, why were they waiting for a message from the Umed tribe?

They entered a new tent and the sharp sting of the wind blown sand abated. Imad turned to her, sharply he pointed to a rug in the corner. “You will sit there, quietly. I have guests coming and we mustn’t be disturbed. Now, when the storm dies down I want to you go and fetch some water from the well. Bring it back to me, do you understand?”

Riva nodded meekly, ever since he had struck her she had very, very carefully observed his smallest expressions and movements. Right now he seemed... nervous and anxious, although there was excitement and elation there as well.

“Good, go sit.”

She did so and settled down comfortably. Imad moved about preparing for his guests. Riva was glad he didn’t ask her to help, she wouldn’t’ve (nice try :)known what to do or even where to begin. This was a completely different society and while she knew their language, no one cared what the nomads of the desert had to say. They never came to Alsteare and Alsteare rarely went to them. Trade that went through the desert to the Nurvians was the only connection the two worlds had.

While he worked, Riva watched, memorizing his mannerisms. The way he brushed his hands free of the sand, or rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands. The crisp way he snapped rugs and plumped pillows. For some reason she imagined the King demanding a pet tiger and he had gotten one. Imad felt like a tiger on a leash, just waiting to set free, biding it’s time, pacing.

It made her very nervous.

Eventually she was able to relax, Imad ignored her for the most part anyway, and tried to think of a way to get out of here.

If she could gather provisions and find a horse, she could head east. She’d eventually hit the Gorgenus River and she could follow that to Sealidan. Her mind wandered to Ettore, her faithful gelding. Had he survived? Glen... She couldn’t waste time here.

Imad burst into the room without warning and Riva jumped. He brushed by without noticing.

Somehow, Riva didn’t think she’d be getting much sleep.

*****

As the sun set men began to trickle into the tent. Riva examined each face behind her veil. They were authority figures, she could tell by the way they held themselves and how Imad treated them. Tribal Heads. That’s who these people were, they led each of the tribes under the King. Why haven’t they overthrown the King, I wonder. It’s not like he’s a strong leader. She’d seen the side glances of the guards and the men around the King. They thought he was a dunce. All it would take was a well paid guard and the problem would be removed. Any one of these men had the brains to take leadership, so what was holding them back?

Her eyes followed yet another tribe leader into the tent. Imad moved forward and greeted him respectfully.

Ah, Her mind had made the connection. Imad. Of course. He didn’t grovel at the King’s feet, he controlled him. It was a very careful dance, Imad was very skilled at manipulation. The way he had played on the King’s emotions to keep Riva had been a work of art. Riva didn’t think she had that kind of skill. Riva chewed on her lip thoughtfully, she didn’t really understand why Imad had kept her. He treated her like a nuisance and seemed to be disgusted by her presence.

King Racham wanted Imad to respect him, there was a gleam in his eye when he spoke to Imad. She could understand that, she’d always wanted her father’s approval, to Racham, Imad was his mentor and old advisor. No... not a mentor. More like a peer. Racham didn’t treat Imad with the respect of an elder... What is their relationship? Riva wondered.

Imad’s accented voice cut into her thoughts. “Go get the water, the storm has passed.” He placed a jug in Riva’s lap. “The well is at the center of the camp, near the Royal Tent. Do you remember where that is?”

Riva had a general idea and so nodded.

“Don’t dawdle.” Came the stern command.

Standing was a struggle in her new clothes, but Riva managed and left the tent.

The camp was completely different at night. It took Riva nearly half an hour to find the well. She considered asking someone for help, but then she would reveal her ability to speak their language. At the moment it seemed prudent to keep that hidden. Riva felt deep in her bones that something was going on and feigning ignorance could get her out of several sticky situations if she played her cards right.

When she made it back to tent, she was sure Imad was going to thrash her with his tongue but he said nothing and took the jug. Expertly he moved his hands and furrowed his brow, mumbling foreign words under his breath.

Riva could feel his energy pouring into the water, vibrating it, separating the muck and the clear, crisp cool water. When he was done he poured each of the members precious, clean water. They sipped in and smiled, pleased and awed.

Riva stood with wide eyes. Imad poured the last of the water out and tipped the jug over, dry sand slid over the lip. Her jaw dropped. He had such effortless control! That trick with the water took a very certain amount of power, too much and the jug would have shattered, not enough and there would’ve been no difference. Not only that, but he had taken all of the water out of the sand. These men had no idea how difficult that simple act had been. He probably cooled the water while he was at it. She thought with envy.

Imad noticed her look of astonishment and gave her a small smile, motioning for her to sit in her corner.

Riva snapped her jaw shut and went and sat, still marveling. She could burn people up, shove wind and pull water down a mountain, all that took was brawn. Put enough power behind it and the elements will listen to you, Imad worked his magic so cleverly. Gently encouraging the sand and water to leave each other...

She shook her head in awe.

“Have you never seen magic before?” Imad asked, making her jump.

Riva looked around, but the men had left silently. After she found herself alone she answered, “I’ve seen witches with potions and travelers with tricks but that was real magic.” She forced a shudder. “I saw how dirty that water was... how did you...” she asked, truly curious.

Imad shrugged with false modesty. “You just have to know the right words.”

Riva swallowed back an angry retort, she knew it took much, much, more than that. Her eyebrows went up and her eyes widened in disbelief and she asked in a barely hushed tone. “You mean it?”

Imad chuckled, “No, I’m afraid not.”

Again Riva forced her body and expression to fall. She only hoped she wasn’t milking it a little too much. Imad was smart and a born liar, he’d see through it if she wasn’t careful.

However, Imad seemed to be enjoying the admiration. This gave Riva hope.

He launched into a lecture of how the art of magic must be passed down, father to son. What is it with these people and women? Riva thought, smoldering inside, but she put on an attentive face and nodded.

Half-way through his lecture he seemed to remember who he was speaking to and declared that he was tired and going to bed. “For tonight you may sleep there. A slave will come in the morning to fill my bowl and beat the rugs. You will help.”

Riva’s curiosity got the better of her. “Do the other slaves sleep somewhere else? Why haven’t I seen slaves around the camp? Or around the King? You’d think that a King would have hundreds of slaves.” Only after she have voiced her questions did she realize that Imad might find them insolent.

Perhaps he was too tired or remembered that she was a foreigner, either way he answered without malice. “The camp has a community of slaves, they serve and they are fed. The King has personal slaves, but they are hidden when he has company. You are an exception, because you are different.” He paused and considered his words. “You could say it’s because you’re rare, so you have a higher value, even if you are Alstearian.” He spat the last word in disgust.

So that’s why he looks at me with contempt sometimes. Imad had a bone to pick with Alsteare? What rotten luck. Why did he want me then? Does he want information? He hadn’t asked her anything yet, but it was a possibility.

Imad sighed and closed the tent wall without another word. Magic shot through the air and the lamp sizzled quietly.

Riva shook her head in the darkness, if she had tried that the tent would’ve gone up in flames. No wonder Kadric was always telling her never to use magic unless absolutely necessary. His motto was: “You have two legs and two hands, use them.” He would allow her to practice only for the sake of learning things. He believed that if you understood the theory, you could complete the deed. She had never had the luxury of experience or learned the delicacy of finesse. Imad made her want to try.

Wearily Riva curled up on her rug and tried to sleep.

*****

Despite the days of traveling on her own, Riva was still not used to sleeping on the ground. She slept badly, waking in the night frequently and pulling herself into a tighter ball for warmth. When she had traveled by herself she had been able to make a fire or wrap herself in a blanket to keep warm and give her a sense of security. Now she was sleeping out in the open and with the feeling of sand everywhere.

When she woke that morning with the sound of the camels and horses stirring nearby, she found herself staring face to face with the terror of her dreams, a scorpion. Freezing up in fear, Riva didn’t dare move. Her mind ran over everything she knew about scorpions, everything that she had read. They were deadly poisonous, struck with blinding speed and were in the same group as spiders... Nothing helpful.

Neither moved.

A slave slipped into the tent and jerked to a halt when he saw the scorpion. His wide dark eyes met examined the scene. Riva could see him edge away in her peripheral, but didn’t dare take her eyes off the little black creature only inches away from her nose.

The scorpion seemed satisfied to have caught her attention and scuttled away slipping under the cover of sand.

The slave let out a breath he was holding in relief. “You are very lucky. The scorpion is sacred and an honored creature in the eyes of the Great One. If it had stung you it would’ve been considered an act of the Almighty. You would have been thrown out of camp, dead or not and left to the desert.”

He hefted a heavy bucket full of water and moved to fill the small basin near Imad’s room.

Riva stared at the place where the scorpion had disappeared, still trembling.

An act of the Almighty? She was beginning to believe it. Slowly she stood and noticed that her hands and legs were covered in a thin white coat of sand. Rubbing her hand together she felt the grittiness slowly fall away.

“What can I do?” She asked the dark-skinned slave.

He looked up in confusion. She had spoken in Alstearian.

Instead she held her hands out in offering. He seemed to get the general idea and went and showed her which rugs she should gather in her arms. Together they took them away from the crowded tents into a more open area of the camp. Here they had poles set deep in the ground and long ropes strung tightly between them.

The slave had fallen silent when he realized that Riva didn’t understand his language. As they threw the heavy rugs over the lines Riva attempted to start a conversation or at least get him talking.

She pointed to herself. “My name is Riva. Riva.” She spoke slowly and clearly. Then she pointed to him pulling her eyebrows up in a question.

He hurled the last rug over the line and pointed at her in confirmation. “Riva?”

She nodded surprised at his excellent pronunciation.

He turned his finger to himself. “I’m Raj.” He said in his own language.

“Raj.” She repeated his name several times trying to get the intonation and pronunciation correct. He laughed at the foreign sounds on his name and corrected her. When she had gotten it right he nodded proudly and handed her a long staff.

Beating the rugs took most of their energy. Riva tired faster than Raj or any of the other slaves that had been there longer than her. The steady cacophonous sounds of thumping was surprisingly relaxing. Riva soon felt the rhythm and fell into it, trying to ignore the burning in her arms and shoulders. To try and giver her arms a break she would switch the dominant force between her right and left hands. It helped a little.

Raj tapped her throbbing shoulder saying her name softly. He showed her, using his own staff, to grip it higher. He swung twice showing her the difference.

You could get more force with less effort using his method and it was less weight to hold up between swings. Riva thanked him and applied what she had learned.

After they had finished they brought the rugs back to Imad’s tent. Riva’s arms were burning so bad during the trip back she was sure she would drop the rugs. She suspected that in doing so she would have to do the chore all over again.

Once all the rugs were placed in their original positions -Raj did most of the work here. He could walk into a room, look around once and know where everything should be placed even hours later- Riva followed Raj around the camp. First they went to the latrines, then the well and finally the camels and the tents where they stored all their belongings. Imad and those close to the King had their own camels and tents set aside.

Speaking without words was remarkably difficult. It required a sharp mind and help the listener remember things once they had puzzled out the meaning. Riva knew she would never forget the difference between Imad’s signet and the others.

With her hands she asked Raj to teach her his language. Pointing at a camel, she shrugged her shoulders. Raj quickly caught on. Even though Riva already knew the Words of the Desert, it would encourage Raj to speak around her. He was more likely to let things slip and Riva needed all the information she could get. Something was wrong, her scare with the scorpion seemed to reinforce her fears.

By midday Riva felt a little more secure with getting around the camp and had succeeded in starting up a game with Raj. First he would tell her the word she was searching for and then she would tell him the word in Alsteare. Raj had an unnerving knack for mimicking the way she said things. Riva taught him something she had once heard her father say to threaten one of his council members: “You will do as I say or I will bring down such wrath unlike the very gods have seen.”

She repeated it several times using the intonation and fierce emotion she remembered her father using. When he said it back to her it sounded perfect, just like an Alstearian noble. No, just like her father. Riva burst into laughter and tears, fondly remembering her harsh foster father.

Raj was annoyed, not understanding what he had done to make her laugh. “What? What did I say?” He asked baffled.

Riva got control of herself and said the word, “Master.” while waggling a finger at him threateningly.

Still uncertain he smiled but it was because he was amused at her reaction, not the joke. What was so funny about pretending to be one of the Masters? His face asked.

Riva sighed wiping tears away. She wished she could explain, but she had to restrain herself. So instead she shook her head and motioned him onward.

He quickly introduced her to the King’s and Imad’s cooks and some of their more skilled and useful servants, people she would come into contact with while working under Imad.

“She looks like she hasn’t done a day of work in her life.” One of the cooks muttered loudly, she snatched Riva’s hand in one of her own calloused ones and stroked Riva’s palm. (Riva, in the meantime kept her expression carefully blank and slightly confused.) “Bah, her hand’s as soft as a new-born’s.” The cook glared accusingly at her.

Riva flinched backward from the fierce stare, hands up sensing an oncoming blow.

The cook laughed seeing her expression and stance. “At least she stays on her toes. She’ll need it. She’s from Alsteare, is she?” The question was directed at Raj.

Raj nodded. “She’s one of Imad’s, I think he has plans for her.” His tone made Riva shiver.

The cook eyed Riva up and down and grunted. “I can see why, but I always thought he was too good for the likes of Alstearian pigs. Maybe her looks changed his mind.” She cacked and turned back to her work.

Raj remained silent, jaws clenched. “Come.” He murmured in Alstearian.

Jerking her body into action she followed Raj, trying to push frightening thoughts aside.

*****

Raj had other work to attend to and left her at Imad’s tent.

Imad wasn’t there. So riva sat where she had slept. It seemed to be the only thing she could claim as her own. Very, very softly she began to sing, for lack of anything better to do. Switching between her favorite arias and the more secular dance songs.

Imad strode into the tent like a storm of heat and fire.

Instinctively Riva flinched away from him. That flinch seemed to ignite whatever anger he was feeling. In two swift strides he was bearing down on her, his power cracking around him. Where was the control he had flaunted yesterday? Riva squirmed away, the flimsy pressure of the tent wall halting her retreat.

“Where did you go?” He railed chest heaving, face inches from hers.

Riva trembled as she all but whispered. “I went to help beat out the rugs-”

“AND THAT TOOK YOU ALL DAY!?! Why didn’t you return immediately after you had finished like I had ordered?”

He had ordered no such thing, but right now that didn’t matter. Riva searched for an answer but her mouth had gone dry and her mind blank. She hadn’t realized she was breaking his rules.

“WHY ARE YOU DEFYING ME?!” The heat surrounded him rose to be unbearable.

“I’m NOT!” Riva cried in desperation, her voice shrill even in her own ears. “I went with on the of the slaves to look around the camp. I asked him to show me. I didn’t know where anything was and I needed help if I was going to serve you.” Her mind raced, looking for a way to placate him.

The broiling heat around him lessened. “Name the slave. He should have known better. I’ll see that he is punished.”

Raj. “I don’t know his name.”

“Describe him.”

“Black hair, dark eyes, brown skin...” Riva rattled off, knowing she was describing half of the slaves she had worked with that day.

Imad waved a hand dismissively. “Never mind, I’ll just ask. The slaves will know.”

For a moment Riva was torn between self preservation and her fear for Raj. “No!, Please. It was my fault. I convinced him to take me around and show me. He had brought me back several times but I followed him, deliberately disobeying his orders to return. It was my fault.”

Imad was silent, observing her. His heat and turned ice cold, so cold it burned as bad as the heat. He bent to get a better view of her face.

She met his eyes and swallowed in fear.

After a long moment of searching her face he said very quietly, threateningly. “If you ever leave this tent without my permission. I will have you publicly flogged. You are a slave. My slave. Do you understand?”

Riva forced her seized-up muscles to move her head up and down.

“Good.” He snapped and two women appeared from his room. Swiftly he ordered, “Get her ready. We are to see the King.” His cold eyes returned to Riva and she suppressed a shudder. “I want her to look her best.”

*****

Among slaves, the veils were optional. Only when in the presence of other men was Riva forced to wear one. The one she was dressed in now was a vibrant blue, that brought out the color in her eyes. The entire process brought her back to her times as a princess, being pampered and shown off as a trophy.

It made her feel filthy.

She didn’t fully understand the purpose of dressing her up until she saw King Racham’s face.

His eyes were wide and awed, after a few blinks his expression changed to jealousy.

Imad had brought her to flaunt under the King’s nose. Isn’t that a little childish? Riva thought. Imad was a lot of things but a child he was not.

Racham was though, in temperament if nothing else. She could see him struggle to get the right words out. “She looks... ravishing, Imad, you never fail to amaze me.”

Imad glanced back at Riva with indifference. “Really? I must thank you then, your Majesty, for such a fine gift.”

Riva was hard pressed to remain emotionless, pretending that she couldn’t understand a work of the conversation. She watched as Racham too, worked his jaw and fought his emotions. He has to be the worse diplomat I’ve ever seen! Riva thought in annoyance. Any good leader should at least have a semblance of tact. All her life Riva had suppressed her own feelings behind a mask or persona. She envied Racham’s freedom to speak his mind and do as he wished.

Imad ignored Racham’s inner struggle and got straight to business. His cool demeanor in front of the King was a stark contrast to how he had conducted himself in his tent. “The Umed Tribe have responded. We are now free to declare war on Alsteare.”

Riva had never been so grateful that her face was obscured by a veil. Oh, you rotten, horrible, filthy man! You know that I can’t understand your language, so you brought me here so i can hear the beginning to the downfall of my country without comprehending a word of it! Intense hate flared and tears stung at her eyes, she subtly blinked them away.

Racham’s face took on heavy, weary set. For a moment Riva thought she saw a true king, not a puppet. “As you wish, we will hold our first war council tomorrow in the eventing when it is cool. Inform the Tribal Heads.” It was a firm dismissal, one that Riva wouldn’t have expected from Racham.

Imad bowed and turned to leave. Hate for Racham’s weak will and for Imad’s cruel sadism still inhibited all of Riva as she walked stiffly behind her captor. A breeze blew sand in Riva’s eyes and she stopped to rub them.

“Don’t do that, the grains will only go farther in. Here, allow me.”

DON’T TOUCH ME!

Imad didn’t seem to notice her burning hatred as he placed a had on the side of her face and gently pulled her eyelids away. “Look up, down, now to the right, the left.” When he released her the irritation was gone.

Riva swallowed. “Thank you. What did you do?” Her voice sounded forced, stiff but passable.

Imad wiggled his fingers. He was in a good mood. “Magic.”

She pursed her lips to keep from saying anything incriminating.

A whinny broke through the air.

Ettore. Riva turned to the sound, eyes raking over the crowd of tents, people and animals. There he was, struggling against the rope binding him. She longed to go to him, Riva had been willing to give what little life she had for him. They could both feel the effects of that love.

“Stupid horse, doesn’t he realize he can’t break free?” Imad muttered in his own language.

Hate flooded through Riva anew and she willed Ettore break free. As if all he needed was her command, Ettore pulled his picket out of the ground and charged through the tents to Riva.

Riva’s heart and thoughts raced. Leave... She could leave and warn Alsteare or even reach Sealidan and get the army to head back home. Her eyes flickered over to Imad. He wouldn’t let her get far, even if she did get out she didn’t have any provisions...

Ettore skidded to a stop next to her, his powerful muscles bunched and ready to take off. His eye rolled to stare at her expectantly.

Riva turned to face Imad and pulled her veil from her face. “I will never be your slave.” In one swift motion she was on Ettore and bolting through the camp. Riva gripped Ettore’s mane and whooped in glee. Whatever the gelding couldn’t dodge he jumped. When they reached the outskirts of the camp a massive thundering cloud of sand erupted before them, barring their way. Riva leaned to the left, pulling Ettore to the side. Obediently, he broke through the side, taking the brunt of the sand. Open space appeared before them again and Ettore dug his hooves even deeper into the sand.

This time a wall of sand came up at them like a wave coming down on a ship. Riva closed her eyes tightly and held on to Ettore for life, he reared in fear, kicking in the air. The sand slammed down, smothering them. Horse and girl struggled to stand. She reached for Ettore and mounted again, turning him about and then kicking him into a gallop. As they rode Riva spat out sand and shook off what she could.

Air slammed into them from the right. They fell to the hot sand and again tried to stand. Air rushed from her lungs. She fell to the ground grasping for something, anything and only clutching the sand. Panic spread through her, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t taste the air.

Imad’s face came into view and she reached for him, pleading wordlessly. His face was twisted in anger. “Get the horse, leave the girl to me.”

He wasn’t releasing his hold. Riva gaped like a fish, eyes wide, unbelieving. As she thrashed around Imad looked on with contempt. Just as her vision was leaving her, she felt sweet hot air flow into her lungs once more. She coughed several times clearing her throat of sand she had inhaled. With his face nearly touching hers he hissed. “I warned you. Now, you will be punished.”

Fear rippled through Riva, she had acted impulsively and now she was regretting it.

*****

Riva sucked in air between her teeth, tears forming as searing pain shot up her back.

“Sorry.” One of the women whispered as if she was afraid of being overheard.

Riva had never believed she that she could be in so much pain. Moving hurt, breathing hurt. Her back was on fire. The women in the slave tent were putting strips of raw meat on her back.

Grasping one of the women’s hands she whispered just as softly and with as much feeling as she could muster. “Thank you.” She wished she could say it in her language.

The woman nodded kindly and continued to work.

Once the stripes across Riva’s back had scabbed over and the pain and lessened, she was put back in Imad’s tent.

It was suffocating.

Riva never spoke in his presence and only answered with a nod or shake of her head. She wanted him to believe he had broken her, not firmed her resolve and hatred. Raj was the only one to break the monotony. Sometimes when Imade was gone, Raj would come to “clean” and they would play their game.

Everyday was agony. Riva knew that Imad and the King were preparing for war against Alsteare and there was nothing she could do.

One night the Tribal Heads met with Imad in his tent.

Imad sent for water again. As she was leaving one of the Heads commented, “You’ve taken all the fire out of her, Imad, must be boring at night.” and laughter ensued. She was glad the darkness hid her red face.

I hate him. She thought fiercely.

When she returned she gave him the jug and went to her corner, ignoring the sighs of pleasure at having clean water.

“So, Imad, when will we be able to call you “Majesty?”

“Soon. I want there to be no question in my leadership.” He gazing meaningfully around the room. “That means you will all have to support me without question.”

Riva could almost see their faces, striving to hide their fear. She closed her eyes. Of course... of course, you’ve wanted to rules all this time. You want the glory not just to be the puppeteer. She opened her eyes again and looked at the drape that separated the two rooms. Pursing her lips Riva considered, remembering the smart of the whip on her back.

*****

“The King is sleeping.” The flat nosed guard told her frimly. “He does not wish to be disturbed.”

“Please, it’s a message from Imad of the utmost importance.”

If the guard was surprised that she could suddenly speak his language he only showed it with a scowl. He glared at her for another minute.

“Fine. Be quick.” He opened the tent door.

The King was indeed asleep. Two of the slaves that were in his room stood wen she entered and left like ghosts. Gently Riva shook the King. “Your Majesty?”

He stirred. “What is it?”

“Would you be willing to come with me?”

Rubbing his eyes he realized who was in his room. “You? What are you doing here? How did you get past my guards?” He asked groggily.

“Please, your Majesty, I need you to come with me to Imad’s tent. I want to show you something.”

Wearily he reached for his clothes and dressed, seemingly unaware of Riva’s embarrassment. “What does he need in the middle of the night?” As they left he motioned for his guards to follow.

The four of them made their way through a silent camp. When they reached Imad’s tent Riva motioned for silence. Racham eyebrows rose in a question, but he kept his silence. They entered and another bout of laughter had broken out among the group of men in the adjoined room.

Riva sat and motioned for them to do the same, she tapped her ear. Racham’s face grew serious as he sensed the severity of the situation.

The tribesmen were discussing where to place their men around the camp. It seemed innocent enough. Had they moved on? Dread swept through her. For a full ten minutes nothing incriminating was said. Riva strove to remain at peace or at least seem at peace.

Racham also remained still and listened.

Finally one of the men laughed loudly and said, “This will all be possible through the efforts of our new king, Imad!” It sounded as if he were raising his glass in honor and the other men were following suit.

Riva sighed in relief and turned to see Racham’s face.

He had gone pale.

She waited for a reaction. “Well? Go arrest him.”

He looked up into her face. “What can I do?” He asked softly. “I am one man, one man that no one will listen to. Imad is a shaman.”

Riva realized he was right. Racham had no power here. He never had.

But she did.

She stood and threw open the drapes the separated the rooms.

Throwing her arms out a powerful wind slammed into the tent. The Tribal Heads were thrown to the floor, struggling to protect their heads and eyes from the sand and objects that flew at them. Riva crushed the air around Imad, fury gripping her. The air compressed around the Shaman, when he realized what was going on he met Riva’s deadly glare and smiled.

Swinging his arms out, he broke her grip and gathered the sand near him. Once he had a sufficient amount he blasted it at her face.

Riva moved, effecting to dodge rather than block. In her right hand she was forming a whip made of fire. Let’s see how you like it. She thought savagely. With a swift flick she sent the tendrils of fire at Imad, scoring the tent and any unfortunate bystanders.

Imad wove the air into a tight shield, his delicate fingers moving quickly. As Riva’s fire struck wasll of air, it slowed, giving him time to slip away.

Furious Riva reached for the entire tent, pulling in everything she could touch. Rugs, walls, poles, and ropes caved in on them.

The sudden attack from all sides stunned Imad for a moment. Desperately he flung fire burning his own home as in converged on him. For a moment they stood glaring at each other, panting, completely unaware of the audience that had gathered.

“So... You were a magic user all this time. I never would’ve guessed.” Imad gasped in Alstearian.

“There are a lot of things you never bothered to learn about me.” Riva spat in his language. Flinging her arms up she gathered all her hate and fear in the form of fire, feeding her energy into it.

Imad made a sharp movement and Riva instinctively stepped to one side. Something stung her in the left side.

She ignored it and let the fire in her hands grow until it seemed to large to handle. With a mighty yell she flung it at Imad.

He ran and dove barely avoiding the sphere, which rolled and crashed into a nearby tent. The newborn fire lit the scene with eerie flickering. Even from here Riva could smell his singed hair. Riva cast around looking for anything to fight with. Her power was nearly gone, she could feel a heavy weariness start to set in. It was making her movements difficult and she kept stumbling.

There! What looked like a ceremonial dagger from one of the Tribal Heads. Like a lecherous drunk she staggered toward it and grasped it. When she straightened Imad was standing right in front of her, a little half smile playing on his lips.

With two fingers he pushed her gently. She stumbled backward, barely managing to stay on her feet.

Imad laughed enjoying her reaction. “Poison. So simple. So clean.”

Riva’s eyes widened in fear, she looked down at her left side to see a small dart protruding from her body.

“Too bad you can’t heal yourself.” Imad taunted.

Adrenaline made Riva move with sureness, swiftly she unsheathed the dagger and shoved it in between Imad’s ribs. She stayed there watching his expression change. “Same to you.” She whispered and twisted.

Imad screamed and pulled away.

Riva had a death grip on the dagger and it cut a new path out. He fell writhing in pain. It was a fatal wound. He wouldn’t live. His lung would collapse and he wouldn’t be able to breathe. It would be slow and painful.

These thoughts went through Riva’s mind numbly as she swayed on her feet. She looked down at her blood-covered hands, then up at the sky. The stars were so beautiful. She closed her eyes basking in their light. I love you, Glen. I’m so sorry.

*****

When Riva’s eyes opened she was sure she was in Heaven... or Hell. Whatever. Everything was blindingly white. She blinked several times trying to see and eventually gave up.

“Riva?”

She knew that voice. It was... oh, what was his name?

“Riva? Can you hear me?”

Raj.

“Raj?” She croaked. Her throat felt as dry as the desert itself.

A deep breath of relief escaped him. “You made me worried there. Here.” Water was put to her lips and she swallowed hungrily. “Riva, the King’s been waiting for you.”

She forced her eyelids open a crack and sighed. “Help me up, Raj.” He put a hand under her back and grasped her hand, easing her up slowly. Riva groaned loudly in protest, aching all over.

“You sound like an old lady.” Raj commented dryly.

Riva raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you saying something about my age?” She teased. Raj grinned, appreciating her humor and helped her to her feet. Taking a deep breath, Riva steeled herself for the walk to the King’s tent.

As they walked, taking one painful step at a time, Riva noticed people stopping and staring. “What are they doing?” Riva asked quietly, eyeing the gazers.

“They are honoring the new Shaman.”

Riva started to laugh weakly and had to stop walking.

“What’s so funny?” Raj asked truly confused.

“There are so many problems with this. I don’t even know where to start.” Riva told him, not even trying to explain.

The King stood when she entered. They stared at each other for a moment and then he bowed. Raj beside her gasped and hurried to kneel.

Riva rolled her eyes. “Get up. We don’t have time for this.”

King Racham straightened. “Of course, I’m sorry.”

“There are some things I’d like to say to you. I think it would be easier if you were seated.” Riva told him.

He complied, hesitantly, watching her. “Would you like a seat?” He asked suddenly aware that he hadn’t offered.

Riva imagined sitting down and then trying to get back up and simply said, “I think I’ll stay standing.” When silence had fallen she continued, “You have to be the worst King I have ever seen. And it’s not because you don’t know how, I know you are intelligent. I’ve seen flashes of it, but you choose to ignore it and play the fool. Now is not the time! Be a King! Rule your people, find out what they need, gain their trust and loyalty. You were placed on the throne for a reason Racham, you know how to rule. It’s time to show your people.”

She sighed, lecturing wasn’t going to get her anywhere. “You two,” she pointed at the two guards that were constantly at Racham’s side. They jerked to attention. “You are to keep this man alive and hold off any attack on his life. Keep him in line and make him act like a King. You were being paid by Imad, am I right?”

The flat-nosed guard nodded sullenly.

“Now you answer to me and no one else. I need you to be this man’s protector.”

“We won’t be able to do anything if they Tribal Heads decide to attack.” The other guard muttered.

Riva sighed. “I know. Do what you can, just stall them until Racham is back in control. Use my name if you have to, tell them I’ll come and wreck vengeance on then all. Raj?”

“Yes, Riva?”

She smiled at his voice, so pleasing to the ear. “I need you to be Racham’s eyes and ears. Listen at tents find out who is loyal and who is not. Find out the needs of the slaves and get them on your side.”

Raj looked confused. “Why would the King care about slaves?”

“Because the slaves make up half -if not more- of the camp. If the King has them on his side he will be well protected. Raj, you are to speak your mind to him. Tell him what you feel and think, he will treasure your insights. You, too.” She told the guards. After they had nodded she glared at Racham. “These three are your only friends, treat them as such.”

“What about you?” Raj asked.

“I was originally just passing through the desert, Raj. I never planned on staying. I must go to Sealidan. I won’t be able to see all of this through. I’m leaving it in your hands.”

Flat-nose perked up. “Imad was working with Sealidan, I heard him speaking with a messenger.”

“Where is this messenger?”

“Gone. Left weeks ago.” Flat-nose told her shaking his head.

Riva held in an exasperated sigh. “Raj could you saddle Ettore and get some things together for my trip? I’m leaving tonight.”

“Riva! You’re not strong enough.” He protested.

“I have to go, Raj!” Riva shouted. “I have to.”

Understanding dawned on Raj’s smooth features. “Glen.” He said simply.

Riva swallowed feeling a gaping hold in her chest at the sound of his name. “Yes, Glen. How did you...?”

“You spoke of him, when you were resting.”

“Resting?”

Flat-nose piped in. “I knew what poison Imad favored and Raj had the antidote. He saved your life.”

Riva sighed, a headache was coming on. “I’m going to sleep.” Riva told the room in general. “Raj, would you wake me when the sun sets?”

He bobbed his head.

She smiled again touched by his openness and willingness to do whatever she asked. “Thank you.” She murmured privately, touching his arm. “For everything.”

*****

As she mounted Ettore, Raj held the rein. “Riva?”

“Yes, Raj?”

“What does it mean? The words you taught me?”

She grinned repeating the meaning of: “You will do as I say or I will bring down such wrath unlike the very gods have seen.”

His eyes widened. “I was saying that? Why would you have me say that?” He asked incredulously.

“It was something my father once said and you were so good at it.” She teased him eyes glinting mischeviously.

“What kind of man was your father to have said something so... so...” He shrugged his shoulders at a loss for words.

Riva looked out into the desert, not wanting to meet Raj’s eye. “He was a king.” She said softly and without looking back Riva kneed Ettore into a trot.

*****

Riva pulled her cloak tighter around her body and pulled the hood even lower. The farther south she traveled the colder it got, but it wasn’t snow like she was used to. No, it was like an ice bath, wet, freezing rain. That soaked into her bones and refused to leave. At least the Desert had been dry.

Her teeth chattered as Ettore plodded forward. They had crossed over the border a few days ago and were back to small villages that were few and far between. When Riva felt like she could brave the cold rain, she would peek out and examine the foreign land.

The far east side of the Kingdom were backed with massive mountains that took Riva’s breath away. They were still covered in snow and dotted with pine. The steep ridges and dark grey of their faces gave Riva a foreboding sense.

Angrily her stomach growled. It hadn’t been fed that day and had been protesting for nearly the entire ride. Riva was just glad she wasn’t walking. Ettore was mud spattered and just as miserable as she was. Riva had often jumped down to give him a break letting him munch on what grass and straw he could find. They never moved far when Riva walked, the mud sucked at her boots, threatening to tear them from her feet.

So mostly they just took frequent breaks.(great scentence;)

Riva had been forced to purchase much of her equipment from farm folk; Raj hadn’t realized how different the climate was in Sealidan. They were quiet and generally unhelpful, but when they saw the gold that she carried, their eyes would widen with greed. It hurt Riva to see them at the mercy of a chunk of metal. Every farm she passed looked rundown and on the verge of falling apart. The people looked no better. Despite being growers of food, their faces were taunt and bodies were thin.

Light shone ahead and Ettore’s ears turned towards the sounds of an inn. Relief spread through Riva as she imagined a warm bath, food and clean sheets. She moaned softly just thinking about it, rubbing her sore bum and legs. She rummaged through her purse and her heart sank. There were only a few silvers and coppers left and she needed to feed Ettore first and foremost.

Frowning in concentration, Riva drew a quick map in her head. Carefully calculating how long it would take to reach the capital and how much money she would need to feed both Ettore and her.

Even if she spread it thin, they had nowhere near enough.

Sighing deeply Riva thought, I shouldn’t have given them so many gold pieces. Silver would have been plenty. She smiled, recalling their faces and shook her head. She didn’t regret it. There were other sources of food she could pull from.

Ettore came to a stop in front of the bright inn and Riva dismounted wearily. The horse kept his head down, exhausted. While the warmth of the inn called to her, Riva knew she had to see to him. Gently she led him to the little stable that protruded from the main building.

A boy was already there, seeing to several other horses. “I’ll take ‘im, sir.” The boy piped up, looking up from his work.

Riva smiled finding it amusing rather than insulting that he saw her as a man. It was dark and she still hadn’t pulled down her hood. Ushering Ettore into a free stall, she answered. “No, but thank you. I’ll see to him myself.”

The boy bobbed his head. “Sorry, miss. I thought you was a man.”

“An easy mistake. What is your name?”

“Thomas, miss. Though mos’ call me Tom.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Tom. This here is Ettore and I am Riva. Is your master in?” She saw no reason to changer her name, it was simply an absurd idea for the Princess to be in enemy territory by herself.

“Yes miss, he’s inside seeing to guests.”

“Thank you, Tom.” Riva caught the bridle as Ettore spat it into her hand. He worked his jaw, getting used to the feeling of freedom. Riva moved to the saddle and began undoing the straps. With a mighty heave she pulled it from his back and set it on the side of the stall. Then she stripped the blanket and her pack as well. “Where are your combs and things?”

Tom gestured to the back of the stable. Riva found a bucket and went to the well she had seen outside. After getting water she began to wash off the mud on Ettore legs. It took several trips, but Riva wanted him clean and comfortable. She checked his hooves for loose shoes and dirt. Taking her belt knife she picked the mud and stones from them and began to rub him down. Then taking one of the larger blankets stashed in the back of the stable, she threw it over him knowing it would be a cold night.

“Will you see he’s well fed and watered?” She asked Tom only looking up after she’d completed her little ritual.

Tom was leaning on one of the stall walls watching her in confusion. “Course, miss.” He mumbled with his habitual bob. As he straightened he spoke. “Ye’re prob’ly the oddest lady I seen yet. Meanin’ no offence.”

“None taken.” She patted Ettore. “He’s an old friend, that’s all.” She stretched and let out a great sigh. “Now it’s my turn to get clean.”

Tom grinned. “Aye, miss. Ye smell of horse.”

Her eyebrow twitched up in response. “And what do you think you smell like, exactly?”

He just shook his head and returned to the horses.

The inn was warm and loud. One corner was filled with men that were loudly draining their sorrows in ale. She spotted what must have been the Master of the house, seeing to some finely dressed officials. Other than that there were only a few customers here and there, quietly eating. With her pack in one hand, Riva moved to the bar. A woman with defined crows feet, wispy blond pulled in a bun and a small towel of authority that constantly roved over the counter and into mugs met her. “What can I do ye for?”

“One room and a meal, please.”

“How about a warm bath?”

Riva ached to sink into a hot bath... but knew that she had to make her money last. “No, thank you.”

The wiry woman in front of her seemed to read her thoughts. “A warm bath would do yeh good. It’ll be a cold night.” She was talking with indifference, but Riva could see a glint in her eye.

A thought struck Riva. “What if I make you a deal?”

The woman’s eyes narrowed. “What kinda deal?”

Riva jerked a thumb to the room. “I’ll sing for my supper and pay for the bath.”

“Bah, how do I know ye’re any good?”

“Fair point, I’ll sing one song for your good faith. Come now, with such an important official here it would leave a good impression on your name.” Riva leaned in conspiratorially, seeing the woman chew her lip in concentration. “Do we have a deal?”

The woman shrugged. “Deal.”

Riva grinned. “Wonderful, how much do I owe you?”

“Two silver.” Riva made a show of frowning and grumbling at the price, but didn’t try to barter any further. She could smell the food in the kitchen and was sure her money was well worth it. The woman’s hands closed over the two pieces and flashed them out of existence. “I’ll show ye to yer room.”

The room was small but comfortable. A small cot in the corner with fresh straw and a clean blanket. A small table with a basin and pitcher was in the corner. Clean. Simple.

“We’ll have yer bath up in a bit.”

Riva nodded and put her pack down by the cot, she shed her cloak and ran her fingers through her wet hair, trying to get it into some kind of order. She pulled out a wrinkled shirt, it was damp, but not soaking. Throwing it on, she sighed inwardly. There was nothing else she could do for her appearance.

She followed the little woman down and stood before the fire, feeling the warmth and reveling in it. Steam rose from her soaked trousers and boots, she watched it flow and heard a soft thud behind her. Turning she saw that her dinner had arrived. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten all day. Thanking the woman, who must have been the innkeeper’s wife, Riva sat and began to inhale the thin soup and hard bread.

It disappeared too quickly, Riva let out a breath of satisfaction and stretched her cold muscles. Taking a quick swig from her glass, she found it to be a spicy mead. It soothed her scalding tongue and settled into her stomach quickly.

It had to be the best meal she had ever had.

The woman glared at her and Riva realized she was expecting her to sing. Riva pursed her lips, she’d eaten the food before she had sung for the woman’s goodwill. Embarrassed Riva stood before the fire and without introduction launched into a ballad about the old heroes and their adventures. It was one of her old favorites and something all of these people could appreciate.

Her voice was still cold and rough from disuse, but it was a simple song with an easy range and her voice quickly remembered what it was like to sing.

Riva remembered what it was like to sing, to really sing, to let loose and let your heart soar with the words and notes. After the ballad, Riva switched to a song she had heard in the desert, wanting a variety. Then she moved into a stirring dance song. She had gotten the drunkards attention then, they stood and pounded their feet acting as the drum. Whooping and swinging each other around, they danced. Riva struggled not to laugh and forced her voice into a stronger projection to overcome the noise. On the ending verse the men sang with her in their loud brawling voices and pulled one of the serving girls into the dance.

Riva laughed aloud as the song ended and was about to start another when the Master came forward with a fiddle. “I can play if ye like.” Riva smiled and welcomed him. Quickly they decided on a song and his bow flew across the strings madly. For most of the night, Riva sang and sang. Sometimes with the fiddle and sometimes not.

“Another one!”

“No, a love song.” a second voice called out insistantly.

Riva nodded, voice tiring and sang the same aria she had when she had first met Glen. Tears tricked down her cheeks and she didn’t bother to wipe them away. The haunting melody rose and fell and Riva put her heart into the song.

The last note hung in the air and the room was silent.

Voice on the verge of exhaustion, Riva bowed signaling the end of her performance.

Several of the raucous men in the corner called out their disapproval.

Riva smiled, pleased to have entertained them to such a degree. She touched her throat and swallowed. “I can’t sing anymore. My voice will give out.”

“Master get us another mug of ale! We mustn’t have our lady parched!” One of the men yelled. God’s but he could be loud.

The Master put down his fiddle and went to the bar. Riva gripped his arm as he went by. “No, please, mead will be fine. Why don’t you continue to play?”

He guffawed, “Me? I know a couple tunes and a dance here or there, but I don’t know ‘em fancy songs. Yer voice hid all my muddlings anyway.”

Too tired to argue further, Riva let him go and gratefully accepted the mead when he returned. Raising her glass to the men in the corner she downed her mug, soothing her tired throat.

“Kolo’s Sorrow. Am I right?” A high voice asked.

Riva finished her glass and turned to see the official standing near her. He gestured to the seat next to her. “May I?”

She nodded and he sat. “How do you know an Alstearian opera?” She asked.

“I could ask you the same question, you’ve clearly been trained, however.” He took a small sip from his own glass. “Didn’t think there were many bards left.”

Ah... He thought she was a musician. “There aren’t.” She answered truthfully.

“Where did you train?”

Riva bit the inside of her cheek. She had forgotten that she was in Sealidan and that there were people here who could recognize her for what she was because of her education. Riva racked her mind but could think of any schools that taught music. She could either bluff her way out or tell the truth.

Looking at the man, she decided to risk it. “In Alsteare. It’s not something that I like to... announce.”

“Hmm, I suspected a much, your Alstearian accent is impeccable. As is your desert accent... Where did you ever learn to speak the nomad’s language?”

Riva let a wry grin flicker across her face. “I spent some time with them recently. You tend to pick things up pretty quickly around that kind of group.”

The little man raised his eyebrows. “Sounds like there is a story behind those words. You’ll have to promise to tell me it sometime.”

A frown stole across her face. “Sometime? What are you hinting at, sire?” She had to remind herself to speak formally with the official.

His own little smile spread slowly and he leaned back and put his hands together with his fingers spread apart. “I have a little proposition for you.”

“Yes?” Don’t tell me you want me to be a spy. Don’t tell me you want me to be a spy!

“I want you... to sing in the King’s Court.”

Riva had just taken another drink to hide her anxiousness, at his words she spewed it across the table and began coughing and hacking. “You what?!”

His smile spread further. “I want you to sing at the King’s Court. You see, I happen to be a composer. One that was hired by the King to create music that keeps his court members entertained and attentive. I arrange many pieces for his banquets and other formalities. Do you see? If you came with me, you would no longer be singing at inns and wherever you can find work. You would have a steady job, would be well fed and housed in the palace itself.”

Riva could not believe her luck. Never before had she believed that the gods watched her and cared for her. Now she knew, they were watching her now, guiding her path. Just as she was about of run out of money... Ha! She would be inside the palace. If she was careful she could find Glen and maybe get him out-

Her mind was miles away when the thin man asked. “Well? What do you say?”

Her eyes darted to his and she grinned. “How can I say no to such an offer?”

*****

Riva pulled the drapes that covered the carriage walls away to peek outside. Everything looked bleak.

As if reading her mind, the composer who sat across from her said, “Don’t worry, you’ll be well taken care of.”

Riva chewed her lip and pulled her pouch up on to her lap, she shook the money out and picked out a silver. The composer’s eyes were trained on her, but he remained silent. With a smile Riva slipped the coin out the window and into the muddy street.

“You are throwing your money away!?” The composer asked incredulous.

Riva looked up at him and said very simply, “I no longer have any need for them.” She chose another coin and threw it out the window. In her mind she could see the beggars from her own capital and how they had gathered around her looking for money. Now she could grant a few wishes. Smiles would light their faces when they realized they wouldn’t go hungry for a while longer.

Another coin fell into the mud.

The composer shook his head in disbelief. “Bards... all about their music. Don’t understand the value of money...” He muttered under his breath.

Riva just picked out another coin. “What is the King like?”

The composer paused in thought. “He’s... determined, knows how to put on a good show. I’ll give him that. You don’t need to worry, he treats us very well.”

I meant as a ruler. Not as an employer. The more Riva saw of Sealidan, the more she saw poverty. The more she talked with people the more concerned she became. These people were just scraping by. She had thought Alsteare was in a bad spot, but these people had less than nothing. Everything they had once owned was given to the cause.

In her lessons, Riva had come to understand that a good community was one that constantly gave. Everyone had to give though or there would be no balance. Wasn’t that what ruling was all about? Giving to your people? Serving them so they could work to their utmost?

In the distance she could see the palace come in to view.

*****

Her first couple of days at the palace were uneventful. She was given quarters with the other female performers, they had all sort of instrumental players, acrobats, and other performers.
One night she couldn’t sleep, she knew that Glen was somewhere in the building, but it had been made very clear they they weren’t to wander. Riva stayed in the servants quarters and poked her head into the lit rooms. In one man was in deep concentration working on the most beautiful dress Riva had ever seen. Audibly she gasped.

He turned and squinted to see who it was. “Who’s there?”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t sleep.” Riva stepped into the light and examined the dress. It was covered in tiny shining pieces that glinted in the light. “Those aren’t real diamonds, are they?”

The thin man chuckled. “Goodness, no. This dress is for a performer, not a queen.”

Riva snorted. “What kind of performer needs a dress this fancy?” Looking at the rest of the dress, Riva had to admit that the needlework was exquisite, the best she had ever seen. The material itself was high quality. A belt of fabric accented a thin waist and the breast, a square cut, with shimmering trimmings.

The balding man grabbed his stomach and began to laugh outright at Riva astonishment. As he wiped his eyes he replied, “I agree with you. This dress is probably worth more than a years wages, far too much work for a banquet. But the King does like to impress, he also likes to dote on his favorites. The Royal Composer himself vouched for the wearer of this dress.” He gestured to the entirety of the garment. “Who are you again?”

“Hmm?” Riva had been lost in thought, thinking that the King put a lot of force behind the word of the composer. “Oh, I’m Riva, I just got here with the Royal Composer. I’m a vocal performer.”

He grunted. “Well, I’m glad you appreciate your dress. Not many do.”

Riva gasped. “This is for me? It must have taken you days!”

“I started as soon as we heard you were coming.”

That had only been a week ago Riva whistled. “It’s beautiful, the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen. I’d be honored to wear it.”

“And I’ll be honored to see you sing in it.”

They spent the rest of the night in silence.

*****

Riva spent the next few days working with the other performers and the composer. He had a few songs that he had written himself and a few that he had arranged. He ran Riva through several exercises and tested her knowledge and ability in language, music terminology, and had her sing through her repertoire.

Everything was the best of the best. Riva had never worked with such skilled musicians. It was thrilling to get up every morning knowing that together they were going to create glorious music. Together they strove for that higher sound, to be greater, better. Hours of sitting, waiting for their parts, learning the new music was rewarded when everything came together. The Royal Composer waved his arms with sudden energy, berating the performers and rewarding them with praise and a smile when they succeeded in performing up to his imagination.

By the night of the banquet Riva was dying for someone to hear the results of their effort. They were placed in a box high above the tables, at first the music was calming easy to carry a conversation through. Riva bided her time, butterflies thumping around in her stomach. As the courses ended and the guests began to rise, Riva’s heart jumped to her throat choking her.

The composer motioned for her to stand. Weakly, Riva got to her feet and took a deep breath, steadying her trembling legs. In her mind she imagined just her and the conductor. If she kept her eyes on him, she wouldn’t forget a single beat. He raised his baton and the small group began the introduction to her solo. Still taking deep low breaths Riva prepared for her entrance. It was particularly difficult, soft and steady.

The composer ushered her into the song and Riva began. The butterflies flew away and her legs steadied. Gradually the song grew and the passion became more and more apparent. Riva let the emotion carry her, letting it suck her into a different world.

All at once, it was over. The last note hung in the air, ringing in the silence. Applause broke the magic and Riva let out a deep breath. The conductor grinned at her encouragingly. She smiled back. The instrumental group launched into a dance tune and the guests were soon spinning and clapping as the dance directed.

Throughout the night Riva would stand and sing, confidence building with every song. By the time they were done with all of the songs Riva was to sing, her voice was happily exhausted. The conductor handed off his baton and offered her his arm. She took it and he whispered in her ear. “There is someone I want you to meet.”

As they made their way downstairs and struggled to keep her expression one of polite awe. From the box, the hall had seemed big, but from here it was massive. The walls were painted with vibrant colors and plated with gold. Riva recognized some of the food as delicacies, most of it she didn’t recognize at all.

Following the Royal Composer’s lead she picked up a goblet and sipped. It bubbled and fizzed in her mouth.

“May I introduce tonight’s singer, Miss Riva, your Majesty.”

Riva turned to find herself face to face with the King of Sealidan. He was tall, well built and muscled, a ornate sword hung at his side, his blond hair was swooped away from his defined face as if he was facing the wind. Blue, sparkling eyes examined her.

Remembering herself she curtsied deeply, but remained speechless.

The King chuckled, a deep rumbling sound. “Well, she certainly knows her manners.” He took her hand and kissed the back of it. “It is an honor to meet such a beautiful young lady. I must tell you, you sang like an angel tonight. My Composer has yet to let me down.” The Composer bowed slightly graciously accepting the compliment. The King still had Riva’s hand in his, he held it at arms length and gazed at her figure. “The dress fits wonderfully, I know that Micheal was concerned about it.”

Riva felt a blush touch her cheeks. She had thought that the King of Sealidan would be an older man, like her father. This man was... nothing like her father. Doting, they had told her. Hmmm.

The King smiled charmingly, seeming to sense her discomfort.

The Royal Composer seemed to find her reaction amusing as well. “Riva? Are you all right?”

She jerked from her inner thoughts. “I’m fine! I just- I’m just not used to being complimented by royalty.” True enough. Riva thought to herself.

The King smiled his white teeth showing.

Riva’s mind was in a whirlwind, thoughts jumbling over each other and confusing any order she’d had. For just a moment Riva considered killing him here and now. It wouldn’t take much. He’d be dead and she could go and save Glen. They could flee the city and be free.

But reality crashed down on her. The guards would never let her leave and there were too many for her to take alone. She’d likely be killed on the spot. Besides she wasn’t a killer and he didn’t seem like a bad person, not necessarily a good person either... but still.

The King led her to the floor. With a flourish he stopped in front of a tall mirror. “You see? You deserve every compliment.”

It had been months since Riva had seen herself in a mirror. She had lost weight and her body had been toned from constant exertion. Her braided and extravagant hair was bleached and her skin more freckled and much darker from exposure to the sun. Her green eyes seemed huge, the whites contrasting against her skin.  Micheal’s dress fit her like a glove, hugging her in all the right places, the light color accented her skin tone. She stared into her eyes, examining the differences between now and then. Everything about her was hardened, tougher.

The King bowed to her, “May I have this dance?” He held his hand up to her as smile playing on his lips.

Riva smiled her eyes crinkling in mirth. It had been a long time since she had played this game. It felt... good. For some reason she had hated it before. She took his hand and curtsied. “It would be my honor, your Majesty.”

For the rest of the night, Riva was at the King’s side. He introduced her to everyone and she accepted the constant compliments. Whenever they stopped to chat Riva found that she could hold her own in any subject thrown at her. She met many interesting people and got a feel for Sealidan government. As the night went on, Riva relaxed more and began to speak freely with the King and the guests. She found their conversation enlightening and different from the views of her tutors at home. Despite being in the heart of the enemy’s country, she found herself enjoying herself. The King of Sealidan was intelligent and had a very clear thought process, she liked debating with him, bringing up different problems with government and seeing his view.

Often he would look over at her, his blue eyes trained on her expression, just watching. Riva kept her own eyes trained on her target and pretended not to notice.

“I never knew Bards were taught about so many different subjects.” Sealidan murmured at one point, when they were alone sipping their drinks.

Riva shook her head. “We aren’t. My father made sure that I had a well rounded education. He sent me to Alsteare to study at one point.”

“Really? Were you in the capital?”

Riva nodded and pretended to boast. “I even got to sing before the King a few times.” All true. “He terrified me. Most intimidating man I’ve ever met.”

The King of Sealidan chuckled. “I can’t imagine.”

“I heard you’d defeated him, the King of Alsteare himself.” Riva kept her voice carefully void of expression. She just wanted to see his reaction.

Sealidan nodded. “Ambush. Arrow to the heart.” He tapped his chest indicating the spot. “Doesn’t matter if you’re King or soldier, a well placed arrow will still kill you.” Quickly he changed subjects. “Did you like Alsteare? or Sealidan better?”

Riva crinkled her nose slightly frustrated, but somehow relieved that he wasn’t gloating. “That’s not a very fair question. We all know that I should say I like Sealidan better.”

He laughed, it wasn’t a polite laugh like the ones he had given some of the dignitaries. It was a real laugh. He seemed to appreciate her honesty and ideas.

Riva liked making him laugh. It gave his eyes life. “Alsteare had it’s charms. My favorite were the operas.” Riva sighed wistfully. “Alstearians can write a mean opera.”

“You’ll have to sing your favorite for me sometime.”

Her face lit up. “You promise?” She had a specific one in mind.

“Of course! I’m a man of my word.”

Riva grinned in anticipation and took another sip. The sparkly drink was making her tongue loose. She’d have to watch how much she drank.

“What’s this?”

His finger traced a long scar that came across her shoulder and the front of her neck.

Her smiled faded and she pulled away, remembering why she was here and who he was. She couldn’t afford to get familiar with the enemy. Imad was still fresh in her mind. “It’s just... an old scar.”

He frowned and pressed gently. “It doesn’t look old. It looks recent.” His eyebrows twitched questioningly. “Is there something I can do?”

Riva pursed her lips, but didn’t answer, instead she changed the subject. “Surely you have other guests to attend to, your Majesty. You’ve spent far too much time in my company.”

His easy smile was back, “My other guests are not nearly as entertaining as you.”

Riva blushed as his eyes bore into her. Every bone in her body was telling her that this man was dead serious and very dangerous. “Your Majesty must excused me. I’m afraid I must retire.” She turned to leave but he caught her arm.

“May I escort you?” His concern was sincere.

Riva squirmed as she tried to think of a tactful way to decline.

He sighed heavily. “Forgive me, I’m not being very considerate.” He took her hand and bowed deeply. Far deeper than etiquette required. He straightened and kissed her hand. “I enjoyed your company, Riva. I look forward to conversing with you some other time.”

Riva bowed and fled for her life.

*****

“I see, your Majesty is pleased.” The Composer murmured smugly.

The King’s eyes flickered back to the small man behind him. “Yes, very. The performance tonight was your best yet.”

“You give me too much credit. Everyone knows you were more impressed with a certain singer.”

Sealidan smiled. “Yes, I daresay I was very taken with her.”

“Did you find her that agreeable?” There as a slight tone of disbelief in the Composer’s voice.

“She’s intelligent and I found her thirst for knowledge very appealing. Witty, clever, and a celestial voice? How could one not be intrigued?”

The Composer moved to his side. “While that is all well and good, may I remind his Majesty that she is of common blood and you have been disregarding your very distinguished guests.”

Sealidan’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Haven’t you been constantly badgering me that to get married and produce and heir?”

“‘Married’ is the key word in that sentence your Majesty. She doesn’t have the necessary requirements to become Queen. Illegitimate heirs only cause problems. So why are you even wasting your time with her?”

“Because unlike you I actually like her.” Sealidan retorted.

A good-natured grin slipped onto the Composer’s face and he bowed. “I see that I have overstepped my bounds.” His came up and he raised a brow to the King. “But I’m sure that my liege will see sense soon enough. I brought her for your entertainment, remember she is just a toy. The way you treat her makes me nervous. Had I known I would never have brought her along to begin with.”

“I will try to keep your words close to my heart, Windleton. I don’t think you need to worry, the girl seems to feel the social barrier as keenly as I do. Although now I have to ask... what would you do if I did become completely and helplessly infatuated with the girl?”

There was a slight twitch that shuddered through the Composer’s body at the thought. He faced his King head on and stated very clearly. “I would do my duty with Sealidan’s best interest in mind. I would take care of her.”

The King’s expression darkened almost imperceptibly. “Even if it meant your death?”

“Since when has my life been a factor in my actions?”

Sealidan looked across the room, eyes following the dancing figures. “Then hope that the good of Sealidan never brings you across my path. I will show no mercy.”

“As expected of my King.”

*****

The hardest thing about living in a palace again was having no power. It was like Riva had gone backwards rather than forward. She had no control over what happened and she had no idea where to begin. Constantly she ran over the problem, how to get to the dungeons and how not to get caught. There were times she wanted to tear the place apart, literally.

In order to avoid horrible mishaps she immersed herself into her new role, which was surprisingly enthralling. It was easy to get caught up the music, it was her life. The composer seemed to expel new songs from his being, Riva was hard-pressed to stay a step ahead of him. Often she would catch herself dreaming about staying here and just being a singer. She would live in comfort without anyone knowing the wiser. Fantasies crept up on her too frequently for comfort. She was still the ruler of Alsteare, just because she’d left didn’t change that. Her only goal was to get Glen and get out.

Apparently everyone else had other plans. Within a week, she had sung five times and she was thoroughly exhausted.

She was also very famous.

The only word she could use to describe the coming days is this: chaos.

Although she was flattered, she had never considered herself a very good singer, Riva was overwhelmed by the sudden popularity. The King’s attention didn’t help. While he kept his attention polite and pleasant, he was persistent. Riva tried to keep herself distant, truly, but he was so different from anyone she had ever met. He was a puzzle. What did he believe in? Why was he fighting? What were his plans after he’d won? How did he manage to turn so many of her people?

She found herself drawn to the enemy and rationalizing it as reconnaissance.

“May I borrow Miss Riva, Windleton?” Came a familiar voice.

The entire room turned to see Sealidan leaning casually against the door a small smile playing on his lips.

Windleton, unable to tell his sovereign ‘no’ straight out, bowed and motioned for Riva to leave. For a few moments Riva considered the situation she was in, she should stay, but they had been at it for hours, her voice needed a rest. With as much grace as she could muster Riva left the room with the enemy of her country.

The enemy of her country, the reason her people were at war. No, that wasn’t fair. Alsteare and Sealidan had been at war for generations.

The King offered his arm and she took it. Together they traveled in silence, gliding down the corridor and the servants stopping and bowing to the King as he passed. The servants had done that for her father when he was alive.

The silence let Riva’s mind wander to her late father. He had died fighting this man.

“Copper for your thoughts?” The King murmured watching her face.

Riva flashed him a smile, not wanting to seem impolite. Sealidan had only been a gentleman in her presence. It made her wonder what kind of man he was. Was he like her father? Just trying to keep his country safe?

“Why are we fighting?” It had slipped out without her permission. “Why are we fighting Alsteare?”

His expression became serious and aged. Wearily he sighed deeply. “Because I wish it to end. From the first time I can recall, we were at war with Alsteare. As you know my father and had maintained an uncertain peace but that ended a few decades ago. Once the crown fell to me, I promised that I would end it. Permanently. Every action I have made as King has been towards that end. The sooner we win the sooner it’s over.”

“When you win,” Riva didn’t dare argue that point. “what do you plan on doing? You’ll be the King of two countries... how will you get them to submit?”

He grinned roguishly. “People aren’t so hard to understand. They just want to be happy. Food, shelter and safety, that’s all their looking for. If I can show the people of Alsteare that I can give them that, what’s to stop them from joining me?”

Riva was dying to ask him how he’d turned some of her best men traitor, but thankfully was able to keep her peace. Instead she asked something a little simpler, “What was your father like? I mean as a father?”

“He gave his life for his people. Would have done anything to give them happiness.” Sealidan shook his head. “He would’ve emptied the treasury for them if he could, the fool.” The way he said it, made the title loving rather than insulting. “You know his favorite thing to do was to take me to the poor houses. I learned a lot there, about people and human nature.”

Riva was astonished, she tried imagining her own father going to the poor and just talking with them, hearing their woes and troubles. Her thoughts were interrupted as Sealidan continued.

He waved to the city outside the big windows. “I turned Sealidan into a country that could hold it’s own. All the shops, farms, and tradesman are unified in one goal: victory. Took me years to get it to this point.”

“Is that why there is no music?” Riva asked, she thought she remembered the Composer, Windleton, say something along those lines.

The King nodded sadly, “The palace is the only place that can afford such luxuries.”

No wonder Riva became famous so quickly, she had no competitors. The people were starved for entertainment. They worked all day and had no way to relieve their stress, to forget about their meager lots in life.

“Does it make you sad? That there is no music?”

“Of course it does, my living is made off of creating music. How can it not sadden me?”

The King smiled in sympathy. “Where have you been? Surely you’ve seen some amazing places.”

“Most of my childhood was here, but then I was sent to Alsteare, I spent most of my days there. I told you about performing before the King, didn’t I?” Sealidan confirmed that she had. “I’ve also spent some time in the desert, the Nurvian Desert.” Her fingers moved to the scars that peeked over her shoulders. “I’ve seen some amazing things... but I’ve also seen some very horrible ones.”

The King caught her hand and kissed her fingers, his blue eyes staring into hers. “I wish I could have kept them from you.” Sincerity was etched in every word.

His touch reminded her of Glen. Her dear Glen. Tears began to leak down her face. She wanted him to be safe. Oh gods, please let him be safe.

The King was becoming more and more concerned. “Riva?” He held her face in his hand and wiped her tears gently away. “What wrong? Please tell me? If it’s in my power I will give it to you.”

She shook her head. It was so tempting, so tempting to blurt out her wish to see the dungeons and to free the man he held down there, but it was too soon. She had to bide her time. The gods had given her this one chance, she wanted to make sure it counted. “It’s nothing, please forgive me. I don’t know what came over me.”

His face hardened, gently he touched her scars. Riva squirmed away, embarrassed that she had let the enemy get so close to her. She had to get control of herself.

“Can you tell me what happened? Is that why you’re crying?”

“No. That was just from a man who thought he owned me.” She wiped her eyes clear and straightened.

The King snorted. “Just? Who gave them to you? I can have him found and-”

“He’s dead.”

There was a few moments of silence.

“Please your Majesty, I would prefer to speak of something more pleasant.” She smiled to try and lift the heavy atmosphere. “Would you care to go riding? I’ve longed to be out and breathing the fresh air again.”

“Of course. I will have two horses readied.”

“I believe my horse will be just fine, I’ll come with you to the stables if you don’t mind?”

The King smiled his most exuberant smile. “I wouldn’t mind at all.”

*****

Riding became routine for the two of them. Riva hadn’t had much of a chance to work on her horsemanship while in Alsteare and the King was an excellent rider. Before they began she warned him of her inadequacy and asked him to give her some tips only to find he was a superb teacher.

He treated her with the utmost respect and never spoke at her or down at her. If she stumbled or blundered he would laugh it off with her and correct her gently. It was so much like Glen that Riva found it hard not to like the King. No matter how many time she reminded herself that this man had declared war against her kingdom and that they were enemies, he was amiable and so desperate for her attention.

The only thing that worked was to remember that he had captured Glen. That always sobered her.

They would talk about innocent things. Riva suspected that he thought she was a spy. She had blatantly admitted that she had spent many years in Alsteare, it only made sense. She would describe Alsteare and the palace, the King, some of her experiences in the cities and out on the roads. His spies in Alsteare and without doubt already given his most of the details of her capital. She went on to described the library that she had spent most of her life in. They would discuss literary works, strategies and governments they had studied. Riva feigned ignorance with some of these, not wanting him to suspect her more.

She continued to sing and sing and sing. The more she saw of Court the more she despised it. It was more of a social event than one of discussion and coming together to right the kingdom. Everyone was dressed immaculately and the food was just as extravagant. It felt false. All of it felt false. Everyone dressed up and reported to the King. Riva’s sharp eyes picked up the fear and submission of the nobles. Riva knew that sometimes the use of fear and force was necessary for certain people, but all of them?

No it wasn’t fear, it was more like resignation. Woeful resignation. These people had no say, Sealidan would do what he saw fit. No one would change his mind. She had seen that side of him.

Whenever she was present at these events she took advantage of her closeness with the King and her new found fame. She talked with the nobles, learned their names, found out what was going on at the home front, who their families were, their interests, their beliefs and ideas. There was one thing she had learned: you could never have too much information. While Sealidan was similar in many ways to Alsteare the stark differences were in the details. The way a jury was run what a judge was allowed to pass by his own conviction. Little things that changed everything.

There were several members of the Court that Riva respected immediately, she could see their fierce loyalty to their lands and the people they governed. There were others who felt oily, their words slick with false promises. The women mostly seemed shallow and concerned with merely gossip, Riva still kept one eye on them. Gossip could be just as deadly as a knife.

“You know your promised me you would sing one of your favorite Alstearian songs, I have yet to hear it.” Sealidan observed one day while they headed back from a hard ride.

“I did, didn’t I? I’ll have to let Windleton know, he’ll want a full accompaniment with it. When would his Majesty like me to sing it?”

“William, my name is William, Riva. I’d like you to use it.”

Riva stopped dead in her tracks. “Your Majesty I really must protest.”

He whirled around to face her. “Why? Why must you protest? What is the harm of calling me by my name?”

She clenched her jaw. “Rumors are already spreading! And if I call you William in front of others, even the servants, it will only make them worse. You can’t be blind to this... You know why I can’t-”

“I don’t care.” He muttered stubbornly. “You are to call me William, at least when we are alone.”

Riva sighed. “You are only making more trouble for yourself.”

“I will make trouble for myself when I choose to. That is my decision.”

You aren’t the only one who gets into trouble. Riva thought, worry creeping into her mind.

*****

Later that night, after she had told Windleton about her special performance and she had gotten ready for bed, she headed for her quarters. Her things had been moved. Stopping a maid she asked, “Do you know where my clothes have gone?”

“Aye, Miss. They’ve been taken to a private room up on the next floor. I’ll show you if you like.” She curtsied once.

“Thank you, I would appreciate that very much.”

Her private room was huge, larger even than the one she had had at home. The bed was raised off the floor and full of feathers, pillows the softest she had seen. In a mad fit immaturity she flung herself on the bed and reveled in the softness, bouncing up and down. A hot bath was brought up and she was able to bathe in privacy. Ah, it had been so long. She stayed in the water until her fingers wrinkled and the water went lukewarm. She’d long ago sent the maids out, wanting only to be alone. It was the most glorious night she could remember.

Her thoughts drifted. The only thing her mind ever drifted to was Glen. She closed her eyes imagining his face and his infectious grin. It never failed to make her smile. She swallowed back tears, he was most likely hurting right now. Guilt made her face twist in anguish. While she was enjoying the spoils of fame and the attentions of a King he was in a dungeon.

After that Riva quickly readied for bed and curled up in a ball on the soft bed. Eyes painfully dry and wide open.

The next morning she was slow to wake, breakfast was brought to her. He’s spoiling me. She thought irritably. Trying to impress me with all the luxuries of a Queen. She snorted softly. As if I don’t already know them.

She attacked her food bitterly.

*****

With her room on a new floor, Riva felt that she wasn’t as limited as she had been before. She wandered the halls with abandon. Poking her nose here and there.If people were used to seeing her do so, perhaps they wouldn’t mind if she moved a little lower into the palace-

“Their army is moving steadily through Sealidan. Their goal is the palace here.”

Riva jolted to a stop and listened.

William’s voice muttered. “They don’t have a King or any kind of leader, will killed all of their officers. They can’t make it far. We’ve been harassing them every step of the way.”

“Even if they make it to the capital they’ll be surrounded and outmatched. We’ll crush them easily.”

“Good, thank you for the report. You may go back to your post.”

Riva frantically looked around, looking for a hiding spot. There were none to be had. Angrily she snapped at herself and stood up straight. Just like a Queen. She reminded herself. You belong here. With sure steps she strode forward to William’s quarters.

The messenger almost ran into her. He bobbed his head in apology. “S’cuse me, ma’am.” Then hurried off.

Riva watched him go and knocked on the door politely.

“Come in.”

A smiled spread across her lips more because it was what Riva the Bard would do than from actual pleasure at seeing him. At that moment, he was the enemy readying to crush her people in a mighty blow.

He looked up and a smile split his face instantly. “Riva! I see you found my study. How are you enjoying your new rooms?”

“Rooms? as in plural?” Riva asked incredulously.

He was pleased at her reaction, his grin only grew. “Yes, rooms. I’ll have one of the maids show you the others.”

She leaned against his desk curiously looking at what he was working on. “I came to thank you for your hospitality actually. Best night I’ve had in months.” She told him, a blissful expression on her face. It felt forced.

He burst into a laugh, taking her hand he kissed it tenderly. “I’m happy you are pleased. You know that you have but to ask and it is yours.”

Again a voice in her head whispered to ask, but she squashed it and just smiled. “You’ll spoil me if you continue this. Then all I’ll want is chocolates for breakfast and soft cushions for chairs. I’ll get fat and my poor Ettore won’t be able to carry me.”

Laughing long and hard William had to put down his quill. Riva felt a pang in her heart. He was beginning to love her. She could feel it in the way he spoke to her and touched her. He believed he loved her and she was going to have to tell him sooner or later how she truly felt and what she truly desired.

There was a knock on the door. “Enter.” William said breathlessly, still chuckling.

Riva recognized the drab cloth before William did. Quickly she turned her back to the messenger and hoped that he didn’t recognize her.

It was a messenger from the desert nomads.

She held her breath as adrenaline pumped through her veins. Her legs began to lose feeling and she clutched Williams desk to stay steady.

“Your Majesty, I have terrible news. Imad is dead and Racham has taken control of the tribes.” The messenger blurted out in a rush.

William froze. “Imad is dead!? I thought he was a shaman? How could he die on me?”

Riva could hear the messenger shake his head in helplessness. “I saw him die myself, your Majesty. He was destroyed by a witch of even greater power.”

Riva struggled to keep a loud cough from escaping her.

William rubbed his face in frustration. “The tribes were supposed to flank Alsteare when we made our move. Is there anything else?”

“No sire, I thought you should know about Imad as soon as possible. It took me a while to get away from Racham’s men.”

William swore quietly. “Thank you, you may leave. If you’re hungry you know where the kitchens are.”

The messenger left the room quickly and silently.

Riva let out a controlled breath very, very quietly. Remembering where she was she touched William’s shoulder in false sympathy. He took her hand and held it for comfort. She had to get Glen out soon, time was running out.

*****

“You look radiant.”

Riva turned to see William in the doorway, blue eyes twinkling. The maids that surrounded her clucked and forced her head back to the mirror so they could continue working on her hair. “I’m not done yet.” Riva retorted to William.

He chuckled and sat in a chair nearby content to sit and observe.

The maids worked their magic, ignoring the intruder, even if he was the king. Riva closed her eyes when instructed so they could paint her lids. After hours of sitting and she was declared ready. “Don’t you dare touch your face and muss up all the work we’ve done.” One of the more elderly maids warned her, waving a finger.

Riva bowed her head to the woman. “I will strive to keep my hands safely at my sides.”

William offered her his arm, as he always did. She took it.

“If I start touching my face you have my permission to slap my hands back down.” Riva told him. “I’ve never felt so... doll-like.”

“You look lovely.” He bent and kissed her cheek. “And if you really need, I can keep your hands otherwise occupied.” He winked at her making it a joke.

Riva rolled her eyes but her heart thundered in alarm.

As they strode down the hall her exquisite dress swooped and swished powerfully around her. When they reached the door to the hall, William paused. “Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

He nodded to the guards at the doors and they pulled them away dramatically. The hall had been decorated with ribbons and long streams of colors across the ceiling. Flowers covered every table and sculptures of ice graced the main table. Riva gasped and twirled around slowly taking in the beauty.

“What do you think?” William whispered into her ear.

Breathlessly, Riva responded. “It’s magnificent.”

Windleton glided over to them. “Riva! We are about ready to begin, you’ve warmed up, yes?”

“Of course, sir.” Riva told him and moved to follow him to the musicians who were stationed in the front of the hall.

Something caught her hand and she turned to see William once again kissing her fingers tenderly. “Good luck.” He whispered. His eyes never left hers.

Riva was speechless her heart torn in pity for this man.

The Composer hurried her up to the front and Riva was pushed away her worries for the army that was marching to an impending doom, for the enemy King that was falling in love with her and the looks that she kept getting from the courtiers. Instead she focused on Glen. Glen was her main priority, nothing else mattered. He was why she was here, nothing would deter her from him.

With Glen’s face fixed in her mind she began to sing the same aria as the one when she had first seen him.

While she sang she went over every moment with Glen. He’d understood her, accepted her, changed her for the better. He loved her.

Tears left streaks in her carefully painted face.

Alstearian words never felt so good. They flowed over her tongue and soared into the vaulted ceiling, echoing and giving her voice new depth. The haunting melody rose into a final crescendo that seemed to last a lifetime. The ending phrase was one of mournful surrender to the end of a tragic day. The room rang with the final note and Riva listened to it, wishing it would never end.

Thunderous applause gradually followed the dying moment.

Riva opened her eyes and smiled sweetly to the faceless crowd.

Quickly she wiped her eyes and did what she could for the paint that she had ruined. Later she would have to find a mirror and salvage what she could. Throngs of admirers and audience members surrounded her congratulating her and showering her with compliments.

One gentleman came and took her hand, kissing it. He looked young, newer to the game of politics and someone she hadn’t met yet. She smiled regally and thanked him for coming. He stared at her for a moment.

“I had heard things.” He murmured, his eyes searching hers. “I’m happy to find that they were not true.”

Riva was a little shocked her visage slipping for a moment. In a flash he was gone and others swarmed the space that he had occupied.

Now she carefully examined each face, she could see that she had touched their hearts. Several of the men were hastily wiping away tears, the women were unabashed about their emotions and let her know of their appreciation. Many compliments were sincere and very gracious. Riva felt that perhaps she had dealt too hardly on the courtiers. After several minutes of this she was swept away by William.

He pulled her to his side and smiled charmingly to the others. “I’m afraid I must steal her for a dance.” Chuckles resounded around them. He twirled over to the dance floor and motioned to the Composer. He struck up a waltz and the two were off.

Like everything else, William was a superb dancer.

“You sang beautifully tonight.”

She gave him a small smile. “Thank you.”

“That song was your favorite? Why such a sad song?”

Riva sighed, not knowing how to explain herself. “It... has sentimental meaning.”

His eyebrows twitched upward not really accepting her answer. After a few more spins he bent low and whispered, “Right now I would give you anything, half of my kingdom if you wanted it.” Riva’s eyes flitted to his. “Ah, ah, there is a condition. You must tell me the meaning behind the song.”

Riva bit her lip. “Half your kingdom? For the silly emotions of a girl? You are going to regret this. Are you sure-?”

He silenced her with a look, eyes burning with a intensity that took her breath away. “I’m sure. Now... what is it that you want? You have avoided this long enough. While you grace me with your voice and presence constantly I have yet to give you anything substantial in return. Ask for anything.”

Riva’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know I want something you can give? Did you ever think that maybe that was why I never took you up on your offer?”

A smiled spread across his face slowly, his eyes still bright. “I’ve seen the look in your eyes, Riva. You are desperately searching for something. The longer our exchanges the more I learn about my mysterious singer.” Twirling her out, her reeled her into his chest. Their faces were inches apart. “Is it power?” He made a noise deep in his throat as he released her and they resumed the pattern. “For some reason, I don’t see it. You are too polite and kind to enjoy ruling others, instead you enjoy a level of respect of frankness. You have enough intelligence and beauty to procure land and run it on your own.” He shook his head and narrowed his eyes at her. “So I ask you, why would you stay here? Fame?” He laughed outright. “You are uncomfortable with the attention. So what is it? Why do you linger? I’m not a fool, Riva, just like you are no fool. If there is nothing to be gained, why remain?”

Riva searched his eyes, trying to decide if she could finally tell him. “I want you to free one of your prisoners.”

The mischievous light in William’s eyes faltered, he pulled them away from the other swirling dancers. He didn’t move for a long time.

Riva held herself away from him, teeth clenched. “I told you wouldn’t like it.”

“Of course I don’t like it.” Angrily he pulled her away from the celebrations. “Let’s see just who this man is.”

*****

“You don’t have to do this.” Riva protested nervously, even though she was ecstatic that it was finally happening.

“Yes, I do. I promised. Besides, I am more than a little curious.” The way he spoke made Riva fear not only for her own life, but for Glen’s. He waved the guards away.

As they moved farther and farther down the air became cooler and stale. A putrid smell reached Riva’s nose and stubbornly she breathed it in. Glen had been living in this, she could bear it. Again William motioned a guard aside and then thought better of it. “Do you know his name? Or perhaps who-”

“Captain Glen, he’s Alstearian. He was captured during the ambush the King of Alsteare was killed in.” Riva muttered robotically. Her eyes were already raking over the cells looking for him.

William said nothing, he was probably furious. Definitely furious.

She looked to the guard and he led the way to a deep and damp cell. It reeked of excrement.

“This is his cell?” She asked the guard.

He shrugged. “This is the only man still alive from that battle.”

Terror swept through her and she reached for the torch, she held it high over her head and peered into the cell. “Glen?”

Something stirred and turned to the light.

Relief tasted so sweet. It was Glen. Riva gasped. He was bloody, beaten, swollen from blue and purple bruises, thin and haggard and his hair... it was pure white. Matted with blood, yes, but completely white.

Riva began to tremble. Glen was the child of the prophecy. Glen. Glen is the one that will bring us peace. Something deep inside her settled, accepting it, taking it in. Of course, he was.

“Riva? Are you alright? Is it him?” William came up behind her, there was an edge of envy in his voice.

Glen blinked. “Riva?” He whispered hoarsely.

Oh no, oh no. I’ll lose it if he speaks to me. She turned away and gave the torch back to the guard. She felt light headed.

“You’re pale! Are you feeling alright?” William asked, touching her forehead.

“William, I would give anything for this man’s freedom. He saved my life while I was in Alsteare, the least I can do is return the favor.” She kept her trembling voice a whisper, not trusting it.

There was a long pause. “Would you marry me?”

Terror. Dread. Panic.

“Don’t answer now, just think about it.”

But she didn’t need to. “I wouldn’t love you.” It felt so good to get that off of her chest, to finally be upfront with him.

His face tightened in determination. “You could learn to.”

“William... I- I can’t.”

“Please, just... just think about it. Think about everything I could do for you.”

Riva closed her eyes tightly. “Will you let him go?” She asked finally.

“Of course.”

“Then that is all I need.” Without another word she turned from him, terrified to look either man in the face.

*****

“Riva, please open the door.”

She debated. Ignoring him was very tempting, but it was only delaying the inevitable. With a heavy sigh she let him in.

“You owe me an explanation. I intend to hear it. Now.” William sat on the bed resolute.

Riva paced and avoided eye contact. “When I was in Alsteare and studying music I was trapped in a world that I had made for myself. One that I didn’t want to leave, ever. Glen helped me. He made me who I am now. He didn’t care about my origins, about who I was...” She paused searching for words that were vague enough to let William infer what he wished without actually lying to him. “When I first met him, I was singing that song. That was the mark of the day I began to change, to be saved. To me that song represents a new beginning. It’s a hard road and often terrible, but it is worth every step.” She slumped to the bed. “Glen was captured. I knew I had to repay him. I came here, hoping beyond hope that somehow I could free him. The Royal Composer heard me sing and voila. Just like that, I’m in the palace.”

She rubbed her sweaty hands against her beautiful dress.

William didn’t say anything.

“I came for one purpose, to free Glen.”

“So you lied to me?” William sounded hurt, betrayed.

“When did I lie to you? Just because I didn’t tell you agenda outright does not mean that I lied. I never planned on using you. I was planning on bribing him out, or getting the guards drunk...” Riva drifted off.

“Did you ever care about me?” He sounded close to tears.

Riva bit the inside of her cheek. “You are my friend, William.”

“Friend... What does that mean?” It was a rhetorical question.

Riva let out a steady breath. “William, we can’t get married. I don’t have noble blood, no name, no money. It was never meant to be!”

William stood in anger. “I could make it happen. What is the point of being a King if I have no power? I could give you anything!” Abruptly he turned to her and grasped her shoulders. “Riva, I want you to know I would do anything for you. I have never met a woman so intelligent, so full of love and light. If you want I will take Alsteare for you. You could rule it, you could be Queen. I know how much you treasure Alsteare. Wouldn’t you like that?”

Riva couldn’t help but smile wryly. “I don’t want to rule, I never have. You said it yourself, I don’t want power.” She closed in and touched his cheek. “Do you know what I truly want?”

William didn’t move but his eyes were honed on her.

“To put an end to the fighting. An end to this war.”

William’s eyes lit up with hope. “Riva, I will end the war, you’ll see-”

She shook her head. “No, I want the fighting to stop. Now. No more.”

He froze and inner battle already taking place within him. He began to pace, running a hand through his hair. He looked like he was in pain. After several passes he hissed, “That’s not fair. I have given my life to this war. It has been my dream to finally conquer Alsteare. I have given my country to this war and now you want me to stop? Just like that? How can you ask that of me?” He was escalating, self-righteous anger raching a boiling point. “I can’t just stop! What would my people think?”

Riva snapped. “You’re people? Have you seen your people? Have you even looked outside this palace long enough to see what’s happening to them? I’ve been here for a few weeks and I can see that they are suffering in hovels with barely enough to eat while you wage your war! All the food is shipped off to feed hungry soldiers. Your people have nothing!!

“You are the furthest thing in their minds.”

“My people respect me-”

“You’re people fear you! Their sons are torn from their families to fight a war that isn’t theirs. Even the nobles fear you! You take all thier gold and resources to leave them with nothing!” She jammed a finger into his chest. “While you have fancy banquets and parties your people are starving and miserable. Your people hate you! They are sick of you and your precious war. All they want is peace. I want peace.” Her chest was heaving. “Can’t you give us peace?”

William was frozen, eyes confused and lost. Slowly smiled in disbelif, he looked like he wanted to cry. “You want the one thing that I can’t part with?”

Riva nodded. “Please William, it would be so easy to stop. Please? I’m begging you.”

William shook his head. “Riva, I love you. But...” He stood. “I need rest. I’ll bid you a good night.”

*****

Riva didn’t see William for nearly four days. It made her nervous. She’d completed her task, Glen was free. Ah... it filled her with peace to know that he was safe and sound. So why was she staying?

Because she could stop the war. If she could just convince William to stop waging a war...

“Thank you, but I think I’ll get ready on my own tonight.” She told the maids woodenly. As they left Riva ran through her mind different arguments that might have an effect on the King. Her mind wandered and she brushed out her hair.

A soft tapping brought her attention to the window. Warily she went to it and opened it carefully.

“Boo.” Glen’s face popped down in front of her face.

Riva nearly jumped out of her skin. She grasped her chest and tried to calm her panicked heart. “Glen! How did you get up here?”

“Climbed. Just like old times, eh?” He slipped into the room and Riva had to keep her hands tightly clasped behind her back in order to keep from hugging him. He was still a mess. Bruises covered him and now that the blood had been washed of she could see the infected cuts. Concern overwhelmed her and she went to him gently smoothing his shockingly white hair away from his face. Gently she let her life force flow into him, taking onto herself some of the pain that he had endured. Riva didn’t know much about healing, she only knew what she had learned from watching Imad. At least that man had taught her something.

He visibly relaxed, his shoulders slumped and his eyes closed in relief. Riva herded him to a soft chair and he sank into it. As tenderly as she could Riva worked over him, taking away infection from cuts and soothing the heaviest bruises. Warm pulses of her power resonated through him.

Halfway through the process he seemed to realize what was going on and tried to sit up. “No, stop Riva. It’s okay, I’m fine.”

He was far from fine. She frowned and ignored him. “Shush, you’ll never get better if you fight me.”

Pushing her hand away he grabbed her face and made her look at him. “Riva, stop. I need to focus. Tell me what are you doing here.”

“I came to get you.” She said simply.

Glen’s determined expression disappeared and he smiled a little. “You came to get me?”

“Yeah.” Riva laughed. She had waited so long to see his face.

“But what about Alsteare? What about the army?”

Riva cursed under her breath. She’d forgotten about the army. “Alsteare is fine. Kadric has things well under control. But the army is headed straight into a trap. Glen, you have to get to them. We can’t beat Sealidan, tell them to wait. I need more time here.”

Glen was silent for a moment as he stared off into space. His eyes glazed over.

“Glen? Glen are you listening to me?” Riva touched his face and forehead.

He swallowed and whispered hoarsely. “I don’t know if I can go back. I don’t know if I can do this all over again. I’m so tired... You don’t know what they did to me.” His voice broke and he bowed his head.

He looked so old and haunted. “Glen...” Riva stroked his hair and cheek, tears threatening to pour over. As gently as she could, she kissed him. Wanting to take it all away. Limply he held her accepting the comfort. “Glen. I need you. I need you to be strong. Please don’t give up, we are so close. I need you to go where I can’t.” She held him, wishing she could put the broken man’s spirit back together as easily as she could his body.

“Riva, come with me.”

“What? No, I can’t.”

“Why? Come with me? I know I could do it if you were there.”

Riva gaped like a fish. “But Sealidan. I’m so close to convincing him to stop. If I can just-”

He gripped her shoulders. “Riva, if he finds out who you are you’ll be killed.”

She smiled, touched by his concern. “I know. I knew that when I left Alsteare.”

Glen sighed wearily. “Of course you did. You always plan ahead. I can’t convince you can I?”

“Not this time.”

Standing he pulled her into a deep and breathless kiss. When she came up for air, he hooked her hair behind her ear. “Don’t you dare die. I’ll be back with help. I promise.”

“I’ll be waiting. I love you.” she whispered.

As he disappeared over the ledge he grinned. “And I love you, Riva. Don’t forget it.”

“I won’t. Ever.”

*****

The Composer pulled Riva aside. “I haven’t seen the King around in a while. Do you know what’s gotten into him?”

Riva sighed. “We... talked a little while ago. I think he’s still gathering his thoughts.”

Windleton frowned. “He asked you to marry him, didn’t he?”

She felt suddenly very uncomfortable. “Not in the conventional sense...”

“And? What did you say?”

Riva blinked a little taken aback by the intensity of her conductor. “I said no. There’s no way it could possibly work. We are on different social planes and we have different priorities and loyalties.”

He looked relieved. “I’m glad at least you have some sense. I was worried for a moment that I would have to make the hard decision.” He huffed a breath out. “And I’d come to like you Riva.”

Understanding started to dwell on Riva but she kept her smile innocent and confused. She had never realized that the Composer had such an agenda. To her he’d only been a man passionate about his music, completely oblivious to the goings on around him. It was just one more person she’d have to look out for.

That night Riva sang again and William was there. Her looked tired, but calm and self-contained. After her performance she made her way through the crowds and spoke with the noble and courtiers as she did every other night. If William wanted to talk to her, he would have to come to her. She would not make the first move.

Nearly half an hour later William strode to her and bowed deeply, she curtsied as was appropriate and waited for the verdict. “I cannot stop this war.” He said simply.

Riva sighed. “No, you will not. That makes all the difference.”

William’s eyebrows twitched upwards. “Would you have married me if I had?”

Riva smiled broadly. “No. You will only be my dear friend. No more. No less.” She would not lie to him anymore. It was time for her to leave. There was no point in staying. “You won’t see me tomorrow.” She told him simply.

William swallowed with difficulty and nodded. He understood what she was implying.

Riva curtsied and turned to leave only find herself face to face with the messenger from the desert.

His jaw dropped and he lifted a finger at her accusingly. “That’s her! This is her! Your Majesty! She killed Imad!”

Riva closed her eyes in despair. Why? Why now!? Quickly she threw her eyes around the room, looking for an escape. She was completely surrounded by bystanders, it would take too long to weave through them.

Rough hands restricted her and pulled her back before William. A large space was created on the floor for the commotion. Whispers and loud murmurs rippled around the room.

William looked confused. “She killed Imad? Are you absolutely sure?” He questioned the messenger. It was clear he was having a hard time swallowing this information.

“Sire, I was there! I would recognize her anywhere! She stuck a knife in his gut and put Racham back on the throne! I swear it!” The messenger was all earnestness and surety.

Sealidan’s eyes bore into Riva’s. “Is this true?”

Riva had been investigating the guards that held her, wondering if she could make a break for it. Not likely. Now her attention was focused solely on the King. She forced a scoffing laugh out. “I won’t deny it, William.” Gasps went around the room and William’s eyes narrowed, but Riva didn’t care. She wanted to remind him that he knew her and should listen to her testimony. “You’ve seen the scars on my back. Imad was the one to give me those. Yes, in order to be free of him. I killed him.”

The King had asked her about those scars, he would remember.

The messenger moved before the King capturing his attention. “That’s not all! She used magic! She threw all the Tribesman across the camp and scared them into submission. She’s the one who put Racham on the throne.”

Again murmurs broke out.

Riva rolled her eyes. This was getting too dramatic for her tastes. “You are grossly exaggerating what happened. All I did was stab Imad after he tried to poison me.”

The messenger was on a roll now. He practically ran at her while ranting, “You blew up all the tents! You threw our honored leaders to the ground and-”

“ENOUGH!” Sealidan’s powerful voice stopped not only the messenger but the murmurs of the crowd. After silence ensued and a long pause accompanied with a glare for good measure, Sealidan motioned to the messenger. “You will tell me exactly what happened.”

The thin, brown messenger stood before the King and gave a fairly accurate account of what actually happened that night in the desert camp.

People began to edge even further away from Riva in disgust.

When he had finished his account Sealidan turned his glower to Riva. “Do you have anything to say?”

Riva raised her head and stood as she had before her father, with all the dignity and strength she had in her. Very quietly she asked, “Have I ever spoken of war against you? Have I ever tried to steal your secrets? Haven’t I told you about my reason for being here? Haven’t I only tried to make peace?” She let the questions hang in the air. Part of her couldn’t believe that William would think so little of her. She had only sought for a peaceful way to end things between their countries. “How have I brought harm? I even refused your hand in marriage! I don’t want power, I don’t want wealth, I would never take advantage of you in that way.”

Silently Riva was enjoying all the gasps and flurries of whispers that were shooting around the room. She wanted to see William squirm. She wanted to let him know that her life was her own, not his.

His glare flared, white hot. “You caused me to release an enemy captain, you destroyed a valuable ally and you’ve confused my heart and my mind! How have you not caused havoc? What did you do to me? Did you use a spell?”

Riva took one look into his eyes and knew that he had already convinced himself that she had used magic. She knew it was no use, but she retaliated anyway. “No spell can change a man’s heart. What you feel is all your own doing.” She spoke the words softly, knowing that they would not reach him.

“You’re lying! You have been lying to me from the start. I want the truth, Riva, I want your confession.”

This was going no where. Wearily Riva spoke unable to hold her tongue. “You want the truth? The truth is I came here to free Glen, the captain whom you tortured, the man I love. I was captured Imad and had to kill him in order to escape. But that wasn’t planned, Glen was my goal, my only goal. When I found that you to be a King of intelligence and logic I thought I could appeal to it and tried to sway your decision.” The information was rattled off, Riva had gone over this with him before but he was refusing to listen.

The King shouted in fury. “You made me fall for you!”

“I did no such thing!” Riva yelled back. “I told you that I could never love you. I warned you!”

“NO! You are a witch! A spy from Alsteare!”

Riva laughed long and loud then. “A spy?” She shook off the guards, it wasn’t like she was much of a threat. With resolute steps she strode forward to the King and stood regally before him. “I am the Princess of Alsteare. My name is Rivalee and I came to beg, if I had to, for the freedom of the man I love and to try and bring peace to my kingdom. Congratulations King William of Sealidan this entire time you’ve had me under your nose and never been the wiser.”

Roars erupted from all sides and the guards sprang into action, as one they pointed their spears.

Calling fire, Riva wrapped it around her, making it swirl into a great pillar. The point of the spears glowed in the heat, several guards took a step back from her.

Riva never broke her gaze with William. His chest was heaving in fury. She let the fire lessen so she could speak.

“William, I am your friend. All I want is peace. I was going to leave tonight and bring my army to your gates, to fight you honorably. But now you know who I am and what I have tried to accomplish, leaving would be pointless. As the sovereign of Alsteare I am giving you this last chance, submit or die. You and I have no more options.”

He snarled at her, face twisted with anger. “Kill her!”

Riva wanted to cry.

With a cry of sorrow and pain for the lives she was about to take, Riva incinerated them.

To hesitate was to die.

They had been warned and they had chosen war. With the guards gone Riva let the fire die and she strode toward William.

He drew his sword and jerked his chin up in a challenge. “Are you going to kill me, too?”

“I must.”

With a mighty yell he swung, anger fueling him. Riva side-stepped and punched air through his chest. The force made his heart burst. He was dead before he hit the ground.

Riva crumpled to the floor and cradled William’s head in her lap crying. His stupid obstinacy had gotten him killed.

After what must have been hours a hand touched her shoulder. She looked up through her tears to see the Composer with her, tears in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Windleton. I’m so sorry. I know how much you loved him.”

The Composer shook his head. “I love Sealidan. He was a good but dangerous King. This is the gamble of war. When you bet, you bet your life.” He knelt next to her.

Riva only now noticed that the hall had been emptied. “You don’t hate me?”

He let a small smile grace his lips. “Your Alstearian was too good, your margin of intelligence too wide, your indifference to wealth and power too pure. Once you turned down his offer of marriage, I put two and two together. This was inevitable.”

“Why didn’t you kill me?”

“I put it together too late” He sighed. “Honestly I would’ve let things alone. I knew you would leave as soon as you saw that you couldn’t convince him. You aren’t the type to murder in cold blood. But that foolish messenger went and ruined it.” He paused and squinted at her and opened his mouth as if to add something, but then thought better of it.

Riva let the silence grow. Finally she asked, “Won’t the guards come?”

Shaking his head he motioned to the windows. “Your army has taken the initiative. They will be within the palace in moments. I thought it would be safest here with you.”

Riva half sobbed half chuckled. “So are you an opportunist? Or just a coward?”

He shrugged. “Call me what you will. But you are the future of Sealidan and if I want to be a part of it that means I follow you.

Peering up at him, Riva felt minutely better. “You’ll help me, won’t you?”

“I’ll do what I can, for the good of Sealidan. As soon as you deter from that, you will find me an enemy.”

Footsteps focused their attention on the east doors. There, in his armor and a bare sword in his hand, was Glen.

A smiled lit up Riva’s face and she lifted a hand to him, beckoning him to her. Several other soldiers moved into the room and surrounded Windleton ready for the order. “No, he’s a friend.” Riva told them. The soldiers looked to her and then to Glen, obviously they didn’t recognize Riva. Glen just nodded and they lowered their ready swords.

Glen was at her side. “Are you alright?”

She nodded solemnly, not trusting her voice.

He touched her cheek and grinned infectiously. “You won’t believe it. Racham joined us a few days ago, we were able to get the Sealidan army to surrender. Riva?”

Tears were running down her cheeks again. “That’s good news. Such good news, Glen. I’m glad it’s over.”

He smiled and motioned to the King that Riva was still cradling. “Was this him? King Sealidan?”

She nodded numbly. “He wouldn’t listen, Glen. He wouldn’t listen...”

Glen pried her arms from the King. “It’s okay. It’s over now. Shhh.”

“I’m afraid it’s far from over.” The Composer muttered.

*****

With the King dead and no heir to take his place, the army stripped of their weapons and most of the nobles and courtiers trapped in the city. Riva, Glen and Windleton began the long work of conquest. Many of the nobles and courtiers had been present when Riva had announced her lineage, they had also seen her manifestation of power. Most if not all were wary and frightened of their new Queen.

Riva took what she could get. Once all of the Court members were gathered Riva explained that she didn’t want to interfere with their affairs, she simply wished to keep order and retain peace between the two countries. There would be changes, new leadership always came with new changes. They were to stay in the capital for the funeral of King William and to hear the conditions and terms of surrender.

The ceremony was the best that Riva could give in the circumstances. She sang, feeling it was the least she could do. He had been a friend, someone who she had respected and enjoyed conversing with.

With the guidance of Windleton, Riva was able to make allies and gain the trust of key members of Court. Many knew Riva and remembered her quick intellect. It was a struggle, with a few executions for those who wouldn’t yield. Riva knew it was necessary for things to go smoothly but just because something needed to be done didn’t make it right. The fighting quickly came to a halt, with Racham backing her own army the Sealidan’s in most parts of the Kingdom saw the wisdom in surrender.

Messengers were constantly in motion, going from Kingdom to Kingdom, region to region, with Riva’s proclamations, news and orders. Those with land who hadn’t been present at Court were called and forced to surrender. The army was disbanded and jobs were suddenly in high demand.

Together Riva and Glen stayed in the palace, constantly under guard, working day and night to bring peace to the worn torn country. Their sparse force was spread out in trouble areas, to keep the peace. It would be years, maybe decades before things truly died down and before people began to remember how to live again. There would always be problems.

Riva took advantage of the time alone with Glen. When they were working they were talking about their adventures, riding, walking in the gardens, or practicing their archery. She told him everything and anything. He laughed when she told him that he was the child of prophecy.

Her face remained serious.

His laugh died. “You can’t mean that! I thought the child was supposed to be clothed in royalty? Just because my hair turned white from the stress of the war doesn’t mean I’m the one. How do you know it’s me?”

Riva bit her lip. “I just do. It makes sense. It feels right, here.” She tapped her chest.

“What no vision?”

He had teased her endlessly about having visions, he found it hilarious that the majority of her visions were about him.

“Just can’t keep your eyes off of me can you?”

She elbowed him as hard as she could. “I’m having visions about you because you are the child of prophecy!”

He would just shake his head.

After months and months of work, Riva felt it was safe to leave. She trusted her officials and Windleton.

“Ready?” Glen asked her.

She nodded. “Let’s go home.”

*****

They were greeted by the entire population in the streets of every city. The war was over. Music, petals from windows, ribbons flying in the air, cheers and shouts of her name, it was more than Riva had ever expected. She was moved to tears. Everytime.

When they reached the capital, Kadric and the members of her Council were waiting. They bowed as one. Riva gripped Glen’s hand. She hadn’t told Kadric about Glen. She thought it would be easier to show him than tell him.

Kadric’s eyes widened when he saw the two of them, but all he said was, “Ah.” and he gave Riva a look.

“I’ll explain when we are inside.”

His dark look melted away and he embraced Riva before ushering them in.

Once inside the Council chamber Kadric sat everyone down and looked up expectantly at Riva.

She had given Kadric most of the details of her adventure and left it up to him to tell the Council what he wished. The only things she had left out were her true lineage and Glen’s involvement with the prophecy.

She took a deep breath and motioned to Glen carefully began to explain to the Council about the prophecy and how he was the fulfillment. Even though he was not of royal birth he was the one that was destined to lead the people to peace.

There were violent reactions of course, but Kadric shushed them with a blast of air and motioned for Riva to continue. Riva sighed dreading this next part. Quickly she explained that she wasn’t actually of royal blood. That her mother had switched the babies at birth in order to save the prince’s life, but now the prince was lost. She no longer had any right to rule the people of Alsteare or even Sealidan. She described the letter and the contents thereof. Kadric brought it out and let the members read it.

Glen gripped Riva’s shoulder, silencing her. She turned to face him. “What is it?”

He was as white as his hair. “You never told me that her name was Edith.” Glen whispered. “My mother...” He swallowed. “Her name was Edith.”

Riva’s eyes widened. “You? You are the lost prince?”

Glen shrugged. “I never knew I was.”

Chaos was on the verge of erupting again. Kadric sent a sharp clap of thunder through the room, muttering under his breath. “I swear, they’re like children.” He stood and examined Glen carefully. Raising a hand he touched Glen’s forehead, it glowed white.

The room was silent as Kadric straightened.

“He resembles the late King and Queen and he carries no magic. I know of his past from Riva, everything fits. He is the lost prince.” Kadric swirled to the members around the table his eyes blazing, daring someone to challenge him. “Long live the King.” He roared lifting a fist.

“Long live the King!” Rose the cry from the table.

Riva grinned and joined into the cry.

Glen was still in shock.

Once they had died down, Kadric clapped Glen on the back. “Well? What’s your first action as King of Alsteare?”

Glen still wide eyed from the sudden informal coronation gazed at Kadric. After a moment, his expression changed and he reinforced his stance. “Sir, with your permission I would like to marry Riva.”

Riva’s jaw dropped and she began to stutter. They had talked about it but this was too sudden!

Kadric grinned wickedly. “What a fine idea! A union between someone the people respect as Queen and our new lost King. I thoroughly approve! We will begin the preparations at once.”

“Glen!” She pulled him aside. “You could’ve thought to ask me first!” She hissed.

He looked confused. “But you love me right?”

“Yes, but-”

“And I love you, so what’s wrong?”

Riva sighed in defeat. “Nothing is wrong. I just wanted to say yes.”

Glen smiled and swooped her into a kiss.

“Good enough?”

“Good enough.”