Yanar

by Ellie Smith

  Chapter 8

  "Whoa!"

  Yanar opened her eyes as the coach eased to a stop. She wondered why the coach had stopped. Was there trouble? She peered out the side window to see the familiar castle rising up only a few steps away. Home! What a lovely sight, she thought as the side door swung open and the commander appeared.

  "You are safely home your highness," he announced then helped her out of the coach.

  "Yanar!"

  The princess looked up to see her father, donned in his royal robes, come rushing down the steps. She embraced him tenderly.

  "Welcome home my precious daughter. I am so pleased you are safe."

  "Of course I am safe. Do you not know the Gods are watching over me?"

  "Indeed they must be. Come," Garron said and gestured to the castle. "You must be tired after your long journey."

  "I am not tired. I slept most of the way. But I am hungry."

  "Then you will eat."

  "And you will tell me what requires my immediate attention."

  "Ah yes," the king said brightly. "The reason I summoned you home." He smiled. "It is nothing that cannot wait until tomorrow morning. For tonight, you will eat and then be off to bed."

  The following morning, after a wonderful sleep in her own bed, Yanar rose, bathed, then donned one of her lovely white morning gowns and went down where she was sure her father would be waiting for her. To her delight, he was.

  "Good morning my darling daughter.”

  "Good morning," Yanar greeted with the customary kiss of his hand before she hugged him. "Did you sleep well Father?" she inquired as she eased into her customary chair.

  "Indeed. Now that you are back with me, I slept very well."

  After she finished her breakfast, Yanar looked at her father to see him watching her. She frowned. "You seem preoccupied father. Is something wrong?"

  "Not at all," he said. He came to her and sat down in the chair beside her. "You are a grown woman Yanar," he began. "One day soon you will inherit all of the kingdom and rule it as I do now."

  Yanar was not in the habit of interrupting her father during one of his speeches. "Father," she exclaimed and clutched his hands. "Are you ill?"

  "No. I am not ill. I intend to live many years more." Garron patted her hand softly. "What I am trying to say is; it is time you thought of marriage and children." His left eyebrow cocked. "I would like to enjoy my grandchildren before I die."

  "We have discussed this before father. You said there was no one in the kingdom you thought suitable enough to be my husband."

  "Indeed I did say that. I had decided to send you to the ancestral castle then I was going to dispatch messages to the surrounding kingdoms inquiring to the presence of any young men who might be suitable enough to become the husband of the future queen of our kingdom." His brow knitted into a deep frown. "But when I got word of the accident I rushed to the castle, fully prepared to be in mourning over the loss of my daughter." He kissed the back of her hand. "When the Gods brought you back to me I rejoiced. I returned here and sent the messengers as I had planned."

  "That's why you insisted that I remain at the ancestral castle. So you could survey the applicants and choose among them."

  The king nodded. "I received dispatches from far beyond our country’s borders. I examined the qualifications of each man and have chosen those I think would be a good husband for my beloved daughter." He surveyed her eyes closely. Yanar had never been totally agreeable with the idea of suitors vying for her hand. But they both knew the queen of the kingdom must have a husband. "I have chosen six of them to be your suitors. It will be your choice who will become your prime suitor and eventually your husband."

  Yanar poured herself a fresh cup of coffee. "I know your wish is for me to marry and bear children for you to cherish and to carry on the family colors. But I will not choose someone without knowing anything about him."

  "Get to know each of them as well as you would like. I am sure they will do everything within their power to sway you in their favor. Chose in your own manner Yanar." A soft smile curled the king’s lips. "If you so desire, you could even make one of the prerequisites be that he must enjoy riding horses. Bronstad sent a message with the garrison commander informing me that you have become quite the horsewoman. I have requested that the horses you enjoyed riding be brought here and a stable and riding arena is being built for you."

  "Oh father! Thank you! I do so enjoy riding."

  Garron rose to his feet. "Make the rules as strict as you wish Yanar. If any of them do not meet your standards or requirements, tell me and I will send him on his way and your choices will be decreased by one."

  Yanar nodded her understanding. "When is this to commence?"

  "Today. The six suitors I have chosen are staying at the village inn. I will send for them in one hour then I will present them to you in the great hall" He grinned. "After that, you are on your own."

  After Yanar finished her breakfast, she returned to her room and donned her royal gown and robes. She pinned her hair on top of her head then donned her diamond and ruby studded crown then hurried down to the great hall.

  Yanar entered the hall and bowed to her father. She kissed his hand, then rose and sat in the chair beside his that had once belonged to her mother.

  "You are truly a beautiful woman Yanar," Garron smiled at her. "Any man in any kingdom is a fool if he does not thrill at the idea of being your husband." He turned and gestured to the guards who were standing on either side of the closed doors. "Enter the suitors," he announced then watched as the doors swung open.

  Yanar watched six men come forward, their heads downturned in reverence for the king. They were all strong looking men and Yanar thought each of them would, most likely, be a good king in his own right. She watched as each man came forward and knelt down in front of the king, kissed his hand, then rose and stepped backward three steps. After they were all lined up in a row in front of the thrones, the king began the presentation.

  "Viedel, come forward."

  The first man, taller than the others, stepped forward and bowed.

  "Princess Yanar, may I present Prince Viedel, fourth son of King Heinrich of Worchester."

  Yanar watched the man as he neared her and he met her gaze for barely a second before he took her hand, kissed it, then bowed low.

  "Indeed a pleasure your highness," he said in a soft, tenor voice.

  "Prince Viedel," Yanar acknowledged him then watched him step back to his place in line. A prince. Well, he most certainly would be well-versed in the rules of royalty. And, being the fourth son meant it would be highly unlikely that he would ever inherit his country’s royal throne. She brought up the handsome face on the screen in her mind and thought his blue eyes reminded her of the ocean. Yanar turned to her father and nodded her readiness for the next suitor.

  "Maxmillian, come forward."

  The second man came forward and bowed.

  "Princess Yanar, may I present Prince Maxmillian, the first son of Princess Elisha, the second daughter of Queen Constance of Providence."

  Another prince. She followed the bloodline mentally. Yanar met his gaze then allowed him to kiss her hand. Maxmillian. Yanar wondered if he liked being called Max. She thought that would be a good name for a dog.

  "I am truly honored, your highness," he said and Yanar thought his voice sounded almost shrill.

  "Prince Maxmillian," she acknowledged then glanced at her father as the man returned to his place.

  The parade of suitors continued. Yanar met Timien, a prince from a neighboring country, Bergan, a count, Litton, a duke. She wondered why her father had not settled on less than six. She had only met five and she was already terribly confused.

  "Arvin, come forward."

  Yanar watched the last suitor somewhat wearily as he came forward and bowed.

  "Princess Yanar, may I present Prince Arvin, the second born son of King Thalius of Sargonia."

  Yanar watched the dark haired ma
n move in front of her and held out her hand toward him. Unlike the others, his gaze did not lift to meet hers. When he took her hand to kiss it a tingle that sliced through Yanar made her frown.

  "I am greatly honored your highness." His voice was almost baritone.

  "Prince Arvin," she acknowledged, the frown still on her face. She watched the man as he back peddled into his place. He carried himself well. But, considering he was the son of a king, that did not surprise her. No, what had surprised her was the sensation she had gotten when he had touched her.

  "Each of you has been presented to the Princess Yanar," the king went on. "You know the rules I have set forth and each of you have agreed to abide by them. You are all prospective suitors for my daughter's hand. What occurs from this day forward will be between you and the Princess Yanar. You are all dismissed."

  After the men had filed out of the great hall and the doors closed, Garron picked up a set of papers from the table beside him and handed them to his daughter. "This is a list of the six suitors and a profile of each. Did any of them seem to strike your fancy?"

  "I do not know."

  "I have informed them that they may call upon you at any time during daylight hours," Garron informed. "They will only be allowed to see you here in the castle or in the castle gardens. Once you have reduced the list, we can expand the perimeter if you so wish it."

  And so the suitors began calling. The first at the door was Prince Maxmillian, who arrived to call less than two hours after he had been presented. It took Yanar less than an hour to realize she did not want him as a suitor, let alone a husband. His eyes were constantly shifting from one thing to another, and rarely stayed on her. If he could not be attentive during courtship what would he be like after they were married. And she had been right about his shrill voice. It reminded her of the sound a pig makes when you try to pick it up. No, definitely not something she cared to hear every day.

  Count Bergan was next, arriving an hour before the evening meal. They seemed to get along quite well, that is, until she asked if he enjoyed riding horses. He had politely informed her that he did not care for animals of any kind, especially horses. When he had seen her dismay he had quickly added, "But I would be willing to make some adjustments if you would prefer it." Yanar did not want a husband who would make adjustments. She wanted one who enjoyed the same things she did without having to make him over to suit her.

  At dinner, Garron asked his daughter how it was going. She told him about her meetings with Maxmillian and Bergan and how she had discounted both of them. The king had chuckled and said he had thought it would not take her long to cut the list down to a smaller size. He said he would send a messenger to the two and inform them that they had been removed from the list and could return to their respective countries.

  Two days later, Yanar had also cancelled out Viedel and Litton, two of the most conceited men she had ever met. Litton was the worse of the two. During their first meeting it took very little time for him to inform her that any woman he married would have to conform to his lifestyle not the other way around. Viedel had been much more subtle but Yanar thought he considered himself quite the ladie's man; especially when he began naming some of his recent conquests.

  And so the list was down to only two suitors. Timien was somewhat shy but Yanar thought it was because he was not used to being around her. She did learn they enjoyed many of the same things; including riding. The only thing she had against Timien was that he was soft-spoken. More than once during their first private meeting Yanar had to ask him to repeat himself. During their second meeting he'd seemed better but Yanar thought he could still extend his voice more.

  It was not until the third day that Prince Arvin had come to call on her. When Yanar entered the sitting room where the Prince was waiting for her, she found him standing in front of the large windows that overlooked the garden, his back to her. Odd, she thought as she crossed the room toward him. The other five had been all too anxious to greet her at the door. "Prince Arvin," she spoke his name and saw his shoulders straighten. But, to her surprise, he did not turn.

  "Your highness," he said after a long silence. "My apologies for not calling on you earlier. The reasons will become evident soon enough."

  Yanar found herself intrigued by this man, as well as confused. Why did he not turn and face her? She asked him and heard a heavy sigh before he responded.

  "I wish you to know this is not our first meeting," he said in the same baritone voice she had heard the day her father had presented him to her.

  "We have met before? I am afraid I do not recall..." Her eyes grew to full size when he faced her. "Arvinthal," she whispered and grasped the chair she was standing behind. Even though he was dressed quite differently and his hair was shorter and neatly combed, there was no mistaking those eyes. It took barely a second for the reality of the situation to sink it. Yanar's gaze narrowed accusingly. "You lied to my father about being a prince."

  "No your highness. I did not lie to your father. I am precisely who I told him I was."

  "Then you lied to me."

  "No your highness, I did not. I did not tell you anything except that I was traveling."

  "You said your name was Arvinthal. You told my father your name is Prince Arvin."

  "I am Prince Arvin. My full name is Arvin Thal." He moved forward until the only thing separating them was the over-stuffed chair. "If anyone lied it was you your highness.” His eyes danced with devilishness. “Or should I call you Coriandra."

  "I suppose you told my father of our meeting.”

  "I told no one."

  Yanar sighed then went to a nearby settee and sank to it. "I was traveling incognito for obvious reasons."

  Arvin seated himself on the opposite end of the short settee. "Because of the accident?"

  She nodded, her gaze focused on the large windows. "After I crawled up out of the mud I found a cave and spent the night there. I decided it would be easier going on to the ancestral castle than returning here so, the following morning, I began my journey."

  "But you did not know which way to go when you arrived at the crossroads.”

  Yanar nodded. "When you took the rightmost road, I decided I would follow you since you knew more about traveling than I."

  "And when I mentioned Tartania was in the other valley you faked a sprained ankle then, early the next morning, while I slept, you backtracked and took the other road," he finished the story.

  The princesses gaze slid to the dark haired man. "I am sorry," she said meekly. "I could not let you know who I really was."

  "Understandable," Arvin smiled. "You had no way of knowing that I was there to protect you and see that you reached your destination safely."

  Yanar's eyebrows descended. "What do you mean?"

  "You asked for the Gods to protect you throughout your journey."

  "Yes."

  "That is why I was there, to protect you."

  "Are you telling me the Gods sent you?" Her voice showed disbelief.

  "Do you know anything about Sargonia?"

  The princess shook her head. "I had never heard of it."

  "And rightly so," he said with a slight smile. "Sargonia is a country of minute size. Most have never heard of it. To some, it is almost mythical. To others, those who have had contact with it or its inhabitants, it is legendary. The inhabitants of Sargonia exist only for the will of the Gods. We are there to do the Gods biding for as long as they need us."

  This shocked Yanar. And, at the same time, she could sense it was true. "And so, when I asked the Gods for help, they sent you."

  He nodded.

  "But I ran away. I never saw you after that."

  "I knew you were frightened and did not trust me." Arvin smiled warmly. "There are other ways of protecting you your highness."

  Suddenly everything made sense. "The woman at the inn," she whispered.

  "You needed food and shelter that night. But, even before that, I was there."

  "I me
t no one else on my journey."

  "Ah, but you did," Arvin smiled. "I was with you from the crossroads to Modenista, then from Modenista to Tartania."

  "The dog."

  "Yes your highness. In all actuality, once I met you at the crossroads, I never left your side until you were at the castle. Only then was my task complete and I could return to Sargonia."

  Yanar rose and went to the windows. She looked out across the sunlit garden. "Did the rains come because I had wished for it?" She had to know.

  "Yes."

  "Then the accident was my fault," she said dismally. "All of those people died because of me. Mimina died because of me."

  "No one died because of your wish your highness." The response came from just over her shoulder. "It was another wish, after yours, that caused them to perish."

  "But why didn't I die too?"

  "The Gods have been with you for a long time Yanar. They have protected you and watched over you, guiding you when you asked. There was only good in your heart. You never wished anything for yourself, only others."

  "But I am safely back at home now and I have wished for nothing. Why are you here?"

  "Years ago," Arvin explained. "When King Garron first told you of his desire for you to marry, you prayed to the Gods that they would give to you the perfect husband. You asked that your lives be filled with love and happiness, and you asked for one other thing from the Gods."

  Yanar nodded and faced him. She recalled the tingle she had felt when Prince Arvin had taken her hand when he had been presented to her. "I asked that I would know the man they had sent by how his touch made me feel." She took his hand in hers and felt the same tingle flow along her veins. Her eyes met his and she searched them slowly. "There are questions I have vowed I would ask each of the six suitors."

  Arvin smiled. "You may ask whatever questions you wish lass." His left eyebrow arched devilishly. "But I think you already know what the answers are."

  "Indeed," she smiled as his arms snaked around her. Yanar laced her arms around his neck and relished in the feel of his lips as they touched hers for the first time. It was several minutes before she looked up into his eyes again. "Will there be a time when you will have to return to Sargonia?"

  "No," he said and eased her closer to him. "The Gods have granted your wish as well as mine Yanar. I am yours for all time."