by Lisa Bain
L I S A B A I N
Heart of a Kingdom By Lisa Bain
Published 2019 by Your Book Angel
Copyright © Lisa Bain
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written consent of the publisher.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
Printed in the United States
Edited by Keidi Keating
Layout by Rochelle Mensidor
ISBN: 978-1-7330436-1-8
For all the women who have learned to
create their own magic no matter what life
throws their way, this story is for you.
I dedicate this novel to:
The Widows and Widowers in my life who never cease
to support, encourage, and inspire me daily.
And to the one and only Dan Bain; my soul mate,
best friend, co-conspirator, and guardian angel.
He never let me forget I was his queen.
Acknowledgments
I’ve always wondered if anyone, besides me, actually takes the time to read acknowledgments. They’re kind of like an Oscar acceptance speech. I find them fascinating. So before the music starts playing and I get yanked off stage, there are few people I must acknowledge for their role in this story.
This book, and my survival through the fires of grief, wouldn’t have happened without the cheerleading and encouragement of my inner circle, my real life Knights and Ladies-In-Waiting. Every character, place, and event in this story was inspired by real people I’ve met along my journey, and places I’ve been fortunate to visit. Jump to any conclusions you find entertaining, but remind yourself it’s a work of fiction. Think you see yourself in a character? Then sure, it’s you. Be sure to buy an extra copy of the book for everyone you know.
Mom, I love you. Thanks for always believing in me.
Jeremy, Will, Tommy, Gerald, RC, Maddi, Becky, and Kristin thank you for not allowing me to give up or walk away from this idea, even when I wanted to throw in the towel.
Amy, Mandy, and Ginger thanks for being there and keeping my kingdom in check as I went out on my adventure to figure out who this new me was supposed to be without him.
Maddi, Michelle, and Gerald thank you for having the guts to redline my drafts. You are fierce friends, and I’m so grateful for you.
My nieces and nephews, by blood and by choice, continue to give me the reasons to keep fighting the good fight. I will always work to make you proud of the life I squeeze out of every minute I have left. Your unconditional love is the true magic in my universe.
The musicians and poets who provided the ultimate playlist for my grief recovery and Libby’s adventures, thank you for gifting the world your beautiful music.
My editor, Keidi Keating is my book angel. Sometimes the universe brings people together. I don’t know what I would have done without your guidance, patience, diligence, and overall good sense. Thank you for taking a chance on a new author with a weird concept for a book about the grief journey.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1 - Ships That Pass in the Night
Chapter 2 - The Spirit Council Is Called to Order
Chapter 3 - Death Comes Knocking
Chapter 4 - The Knight’s Rally
Chapter 5 - The King Dies
Chapter 6 - Long Live the Queen
Chapter 7 - Waking the Dead
Chapter 8 - The Dragon
Chapter 9 - The Color of Magic
Chapter 10 - The Heirs
Chapter 11 - Memories
Chapter 12 - Breaks and Bards
Chapter 13 - The “Quest” Begins
Chapter 14 - Music, Magic, and Men
Chapter 15 - Sometimes Life Is Shit for No Reason
Chapter 16 - Firing on All Chakras
Chapter 17 - A Belfast Break
Chapter 18 - Back to Business
Chapter 19 - Heroes
Chapter 20 - Dragons, Duels and Duty
Chapter 21 - Taking Flight
Chapter 22 - Anonymous
Chapter 23 - Time to Go
Chapter 24 - Homecoming
Chapter 25 - King Libby
Epilogue
Citations
Endnotes
Prologue
The figure at the bedroom door paused, listening. When she didn’t hear any evidence that the door squeaking open had awoken her husband, the dark-haired woman quietly closed the door and in an exaggerated tiptoe headed to her closet to drop her high heels and change into her pajamas.
“Whew,” she thought to herself. “I think I may actually have achieved ninja status this time.”
She got changed and crawled into bed beside him. He rolled over and threw his arm around her.
“You could wake the dead,” he declared, voice booming in the dark.
She jumped and started laughing.
“That was almost a quiet return. Did you and Dee have a fun night?”
Still laughing, she snuggled into his embrace. “I’m sorry I woke you. And yes, it was an epic Friday night in Belfast.”
She was careful to never spend too long away from her responsibilities at home. Even on the nights like tonight, when she went carousing with her friends in Belfast, she almost always managed to make it home to her husband so they could wake up together. She’d sneak in to the palace in the wee hours of the morning and crawl into bed beside him, trying not to wake him. He often joked that the quieter she tried to be, the louder she was. He’d never confess that it wouldn’t matter how quiet she was since he couldn’t sleep without her and was always awake when she got home.
But that’s not where this story begins. And all love stories should start at the beginning, even the ones that start with the happy ending and then get totally fucked up.
Chapter
Ships That Pass in the Night
Once upon a time, in a magical land a lot closer than you’d think, lived a king and queen. The McGregors governed the Kingdom of the Talking Trees with wisdom and humor. Under their leadership, the land prospered and the people were happy. They had the kind of love that burned deep into the bone marrow. It inspired poets to write and made young girls sigh to dream about. That kind of fire can both warm and burn. The flip side of their passion and romance was blazing anger when they butted heads. They were always friends first, so even when their knock-down, drag-out fights had them ready to battle to the death, they found a way to make peace. The King and Queen made a strong partnership, beyond what was expected with the traditional royal marriage contract. They were evenly matched in life, leadership, and strength. Yin and Yang. Two halves of a whole. Soul mates. Together, they were unstoppable.
The Kingdom was a magical place. It existed both within, and outside, of the living world, like an invisible snow globe that allowed the two worlds to overlap without the Normals, or non-magic beings, knowing. For the most part they were kept separate by a force field. Quantum physicists used string theory to try to describe how it worked. They weren’t wrong, but it was easier to explain as magic.
The force field was powered by the King and Queen’s combined life force. That barrier kept the kingdom both hidden and safe.
Residents of the Kingdom could cross back and forth if they knew the locations of the portals. Normals could t
echnically do the same, but since the portals were magically hidden, they could rarely stumble upon them. And since the Kingdom could be relocated, it sometimes moved, making it almost impossible to locate a second time.
At the center of the Kingdom was the palace, although “palace” was a bit of a misnomer. It was the Kingdom of the Talking Trees, a land full of forests and glens and beautiful beaches. The palace wouldn’t have been out of place in Colorado or Idaho as a resort lodge. It was large and defensible, constructed of strong stone and timbers. But it was also simple, and elegant–perfect for the kind of people the King and Queen were. Full of fireplaces and heavy tapestries, and huge windows to make the most of the views. It was a home to all who entered. Cozy, despite its size, and full of the treasures the Queen had collected from her travels.
The Queen, who’d been born in the kingdom, loved to travel and regularly crossed through the force field. She’d been all over the world. But, if she had to pick a favorite place to visit, it would have been Ireland. That’s where she traced half of her ancestry and her given name, Aisling, although she usually went by Libby. So that’s where the Kingdom was currently parked, anchored just outside of Belfast. It allowed her convenient access to her favorite town and all the fun it had to offer. Under her father’s reign, it had usually been parked somewhere in the United States, which is why Libby and her sisters had a decidedly American accent.
King Dale was born in the Kingdom but raised in the Normal world. He didn’t care where it was since he rarely traveled beyond the force field. He had everything he needed there and never quite understood his wife’s fascination with traveling. But, like most things related to his wife, found it adorable. In general, he let Libby have or do whatever she wanted, and not just because she’d have done it anyway. If he hadn’t wanted her to go, she would have stayed within and made the best of it.
Besides all the fun to be had there, the Queen knew that because Ireland was a source of ancient magic, anchoring the kingdom close to a ley line meant that she could have an exceptionally good time while she was there and not have to worry about the strength of the force field while she was out with her friends. It was a win-win for her. The Belfast pub owners loved it when she showed up in town. She drank fine whiskey, bought rounds, was always friendly with the staff, and tipped well. Plus, the nights she was there tended to be just a bit more crowded, and happier, although they couldn’t explain why. They joked that she was magic for the night’s profits.
They weren’t entirely wrong; she was magic.
Drowning in an endless stream of tears
It’s relentless and I’m defenseless
~Dolly Parton, “Endless Stream of Tears”
Libby bolted up from a dead sleep, fighting with the sheets as she gasped for air. Her flailing and choking woke Dale.
“Another bad dream?” he asked, startled.
He reached out an arm and pulled her close as she mumbled her apologies for waking him. Her heart was racing, and while she felt safer against his chest, she also had a sense of foreboding. This didn’t feel like just a dream. It felt like a warning. And it was so real. She closed her eyes and tried to regulate her breathing, but the sensations of drowning were hard to dismiss. Her brain flashed through the images of darkness and looking up at the light getting farther and farther away as she sank deeper into the cold water. She felt the air being forced from her lungs, the panic as her lungs filled with water, frantically clawing to reach the surface but not knowing which way was up. She was so cold she was shivering, even with Dale’s arm around her to warm her. She continued to count her breath. In for seven, hold for seven, out for seven, hold for seven. It felt like an eternity, but eventually she fell back into a troubled sleep.
Always a light sleeper, Dale lay there awake. He hated his wife’s nightmares. He felt her fear deep in his chest and couldn’t do anything to fix it. He’d do anything to protect her. Her nightmares were the one thing that made him feel inadequate. He listened to her breathing normalize and knew she must be counting. He was glad she’d finally learned that technique. It helped quiet the anxiety he himself felt. Sharing a heart had its drawbacks. At some point she stopped shivering and finally fell asleep. That’s when he relaxed a bit. He buried his face in the back of her neck, took a deep breath of her lilac perfume, and drifted back to sleep himself.
Because they were both such strong warriors, Dale and Libby would take turns doing battle with the rare threats that would pop up. One day rumors surfaced of an evil witch in a far corner of the kingdom. Dale won a fierce game of rock-paper-scissors, so kissed Libby good-bye and prepared to ride out with his Senior Knight, Geoffrey Fitzgerald, to banish the witch from their lands.
“Don’t forget your new armor,” she called after him.
On one of the Queen’s recent excursions outside the kingdom, she’d bought him a birthday present–Kevlar body armor that she’d had the Royal Wizards enchant to protect against magical attack. She’d bought herself a set, too, but he didn’t need to know that. She liked it so much that she’d ordered a set for each of their knights and Ladies-in-Waiting, their royal protectors–although only their Security Chief knew about it since she’d run it by him first to confirm sizing. She planned to surprise them with it at their next all-hands training session at the palace in a few months.
“Thanks, Babe,” he bellowed as he rushed back into the closet to grab it before heading to the stables. He came running back out, grabbed her by the waist and spun her around, kissing her.
“I love it. And you.”
She laughed and kissed him back. He loved her laugh. He lived to make her laugh. It was when she was laughing that she was as far away from the bad dreams and ghosts that haunted her in the night as she could get. He couldn’t get enough of it. She often had disturbing dreams. He knew she had visions and could see spirits. When she was awake, she could guard herself against unwanted communication, but when she was asleep, she was vulnerable. He shook his head, once again wishing she’d just learn how to manage it but respected her decision not to learn magic. He knew that the situation with her mother had pushed her into that decision, and once she’d made up her mind about something it was next to impossible to get her to change it. He sighed. Of all the women to fall in love with, it had to be the one who was as stubborn as he was. Maybe more so.
He knew she could damned well take care of herself. She was a natural with a sword and a bow, even on horseback. And she was a better shot with any firearm she got her hands on than he’d ever be. Hell, she could take care of herself, him, and everyone else better than he could. She didn’t need anyone to take care of her, but he knew she loved that he wanted to. She would never ask for help, although she’d be the first to give it. He smiled.
“I love you, too,” she laughed. “Are you okay if I head out to Belfast for a bit? Dee and I were hoping to get together, but I can stay here if you’d prefer I wait ‘til you’re back.”
“No dear, give your Belfast Bestie a hug from me. I’ll see you when I get back. Don’t get into too much trouble.”
She grabbed his face in her hands and kissed him hard. She looked into his hazel eyes and smirked. “Dalen Martin McGregor, there’s no such thing as too much trouble.”
He rolled his eyes, picked up his armor and sauntered out to the stables to meet Geoffrey. He paused when he reached the doorway. Turning halfway around, he said, “Ash, I do love you.”
“I know.” She smiled. “I love you, too.”
Other than her sisters, he was the only one to ever call her Ash. Everyone else in the Kingdom called her Aisling or Libby. In the world outside the force field she was simply Libby McGregor, the quirky American art buyer who blew in and out of town like a hurricane.
He turned around, smiling, and continued out to get his horse, wiping her lipstick off his face. The Queen headed to her closet, softly humming the Old 97s song, “Thank God for Irish Whiskey, Thank the Devil for Pretty Girls,” as she pulled her shoulder length blac
k hair out of her face to figure out what to wear for a night out in Belfast.
Neither of them could possibly know those “I love yous” would be the last conversation they’d ever have.
Heav’n has no rage like love to hatred turn’d
Nor Hell a fury, like a woman scorn’d.
~William Congreve, “The Mourning Bride”
Dale saddled up his trusty horse, Hoss, a beautiful red stallion with soulful golden eyes and a sense of humor better suited to a human.
“Hey, Hossy Bossy, are you ready to go fight a bad guy?”
Hoss stomped his feet and snorted in Dale’s direction, eager to get out of his stall to go riding.
“Yeah? Me too! Let’s go get that evil witch and make her go away. Who’s a good boy? Who’s my little monkey face?”
Hoss rolled his eyes. “Monkey face?” He looked nothing like a monkey. Sometimes Dale was just ridiculous. “Monkey face.” Bah!
Hoss was one of the smartest horses the King had ever ridden, and he’d grown up with horses. Hoss was so smart the Queen sometimes wondered if he had magical lineage. She knew shapeshifters existed but couldn’t imagine one choosing to remain Dale’s horse for so long. Libby swore that sometimes she saw Hoss laughing at Dale, and that he’d occasionally make eye contact with her and smile. Libby would also ride Hoss if she was out alone in an official capacity but wasn’t as particular as Dale was when it came to her steeds.
Geoffrey cleared his throat to let Dale know he was there and could hear this goofy baby talk that Dale used on Hoss when he thought they were alone.
“Oh! Didn’t see you there, Geoffrey. Ready to go?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” he replied.
Geoffrey Fitzgerald didn’t love horses the way the King did, but he’d managed to saddle up his favorite horse from the royal stables. Dude was a shiny white stallion, with an annoying habit of taking a shit anywhere he wanted, even if it was in the middle of a formal military procession. Dude’s lack of respect for protocol was secretly what Geoffrey liked best about him. The Senior Knight always fulfilled his responsibilities appropriately but hated the ridiculous nature of life at the palace. Protocol made him want to vomit on good days and kill people on bad days. As down to earth as Dale and Libby were, the trappings of court life were sometimes beyond their control. And they were down to earth. How many rulers would allow themselves to be called by their nicknames? King Dalen Martin went by Dale whenever possible, and Queen Aisling Elisabeth went by Libby.
