The Queen of Rhodia

by Effie Calvin

  I am sorry this letter is not longer, but I am in the middle of being rescued from a cult.

  Respectfully,

  Ioanna Enessa Isinthi

  “What’s this about a cult?” asked Adale.

  “Never mind that part,” said Livius. “That matter has been handled.”

  “She is trying to secure a political alliance with the Order, then?” asked Esofi. “I have to admit…at her age, I would not expect such a thing.”

  Adale was inclined to agree. At seven years old, her only concern had been stealing extra desserts from the kitchens. She wasn’t even sure if she’d been literate yet, let alone coherent enough to ask a stranger for help securing her place in the succession.

  “The Xytan court is significantly more cutthroat than the court at Birsgen,” said Queen Saski. “I would be more surprised if she was not seeking allies. She may very well reach out to Ieflaria next.”

  “I’m inclined to call this a ruse,” said Esofi. “Ionnes may be searching for an excuse to attack Ieflaria. If it looks like we are harboring paladins who would oppose his reign…”

  “But Ioanna is his rightful heir,” pointed out Adale. “He should be happy to have paladins supporting her, even if he doesn’t care much for them personally.”

  Knight-Commander Livius crossed his arms and glanced over at the lady paladin, who still had not uttered a word. “Perhaps,” he said slowly. “But then, perhaps not. The situation is…unique.”

  “How so?” asked Dietrich.

  “Your majesty,” said Livius, “you know it is not in my nature to gossip idly. But I met Princess Ioanna on several occasions before my exile. And it is my suspicion that, if she were examined by the Justices, she would be declared a truthsayer.”

  “What?” demanded Adale’s parents in unison.

  “You have never mentioned this before, Livius,” said Saski.

  “I am not authorized to make a formal assessment of Ioanna’s blessing. And for a time, I doubted myself. But Dame Orsina—” He gestured to the young woman. “—has come to the same conclusion. She encountered Princess Ioanna several months ago and states that her blessing is what has alienated her from much of the Xytan court.”

  Everyone turned to stare at the paladin. She clasped her hands behind her back and shifted uncomfortably.

  “Is this true?” demanded Dietrich.

  “Dame Orsina does not speak the Ieflarian language, Your Majesty. She has come to us from southern Vesolda,” explained Livius. “But I have no reason to doubt her word.”

  “Will you respond to Ioanna’s letter?” asked Adale.

  “I fear it may be dangerous to do so,” said Livius. “If it is intercepted, the consequences could be disastrous. Nevertheless, I expect this is not the last we will hear from Princess Ioanna. And I think everyone in this room has an interest in seeing her take the throne.”

  “But that may not happen for decades,” said Adale.

  “That is why you and Esofi are here today, Adale,” said Saski. “If a civil war breaks out in Xytae upon Ionnes’s death, you may be the ones to decide whether or not Ieflaria will support Ioanna.”

  “We can’t take a risk like that,” said Esofi immediately. “Our army is no match for the Xytan legion. If Ioanna is deposed, her replacement will immediately seek to punish those who allied with her.”

  Adale wasn’t surprised to hear this. Esofi usually erred on the side of caution, especially when it came to political machinations. Personally, though, she thought supporting Ioanna might be a risk worth taking if it meant having a reasonable ruler on the Xytan throne.

  But Adale was much newer to meetings of politics and strategy, and she lived in constant fear of saying something foolish and discrediting herself. She decided that she’d raise the point with Esofi later, when they were alone. Esofi’s judgment would be much softer than her parents’.

  But Ionnes was young and healthy. He might live for another fifty years. And in that case, Adale and Esofi would not need to decide on the matter until they were old women. The thought was a little cheering. Surely fifty years would be long enough for Adale to accumulate the wisdom to make the correct choice?

  Or maybe Ionnes would be shot in the forehead by a Masimi bowman tomorrow and the choice would be her parents’. That would be even better.

  “There is no need to make a decision today,” said Saski. “We only wish for you two to be aware of the situation as it unfolds. Do not discuss this matter with anyone except each other. We must be discreet until we know more.”

  The meeting came to an end, and everyone was dismissed. Adale sighed in relief, knowing they’d been lucky today. Meetings such as this could go on for hours, if the situation was urgent or if people felt like bickering over details.

  “Was Ioanna at our wedding?” asked Adale as she and Esofi began the walk back to their room. “I think I remember a girl around her age. Hovering around the cake.”

  “No, none of the Isinthi family was in attendance. You are thinking of Princess Vitaliya of Vesolda. She was at our betrothal celebration as well. The one you missed.”

  “I heard you left early anyway,” teased Adale.

  “Only because I was so dreadfully bored.” Esofi pressed a fleeting kiss to Adale’s cheek. “Or something like that. I’m sure I had a good reason.”

  Esofi wasn’t very demonstrative in public, but apparently this was typical of Rhodian people. She frequently hid her kisses behind fans or parasols, which Adale found adorable and silly in equal measure. She also jumped when someone grabbed her hands or hugged her too quickly, but the Ieflarians at Birsgen were learning not to do that.

  Adale tried her best to respect Esofi’s preferences by letting her initiate contact when she was comfortable with it. She did not want Esofi to dread going out in public with her, nor did she want to embarrass her more than she already did.

  Unfortunately, this had prompted well-meaning priestesses of Dayluue to start approaching Adale with questions. How was her relationship with Esofi? Were they happy? Were they communicating? Was there anything the temple could do to help?

  Adale found herself repeatedly reassuring them that Esofi was just shy. But since several hundred people had watched Esofi fling herself into the mouth of a dragon, Adale’s words did not carry much weight.

  Adale had learned to disappear whenever she caught sight of a red-violet robe, and not just because of that. Since she and Esofi were both women, it would be the Temple of Dayluue’s responsibility to aid them in the creation of heirs. Only Dayluue’s priestesses knew how to perform the Change.

  The Change was a magical ritual most frequently used by those who had been born into bodies that did not align with their souls. It wasn’t uncommon for young people to try it out, even if they were content with their bodies. Most reverted to their original forms within a few hours. Some never did and had to pay for a second ritual to undo the first, if they were inclined.

  The Change could also be used by couples like Adale and Esofi to conceive, though adoption was the most common way for two women to procure children in Ieflaria. The dragon attacks in past years had left many orphans, and part of Adale wished they could simply pick one of them. But she knew, when it came to royalty, people cared about lineage and blood.

  To be fair, it was not just the priestesses who expected heirs from them. Everyone mentioned it at some point, from her parents’ advisors to various ambassadors to her own friends. Some days it felt like it was the only thing anyone wanted to talk about. Adale and Esofi were always having babies pushed into their arms, as though everyone was hoping they’d be so overcome with maternal love that they’d immediately set about to creating one of their own.

  But Esofi was in absolutely no hurry to begin producing heirs, difficult as it was for everyone to believe. The assumption had been that one so obsessed with duty would want to start on it immediately, and Adale could not blame them for that. Nor could she really blame them for assuming Adale was the reason why it w
asn’t happening. But the truth was, Esofi was far too busy to even consider such a thing.

  Or at least, Adale thought that was the reason.

  Some days she wasn’t sure.

  Obligations aside, Adale felt that Carinth’s existence satisfied any desperate, urgent need for a child that might someday come upon her. But when she said as much, she could sense people’s haughty dismissal. Some had even outright stated that a dragon really wasn’t quite the same, now was it? The unspoken implication, that she did not love Carinth as much as she would love a child of her own species, offended her deeply.

  When they arrived back at their room, Mireille and Carinth were there waiting for them, sitting on the floor and surrounded by a mess of toys. To Adale’s eyes, Mireille got more use out of them than Carinth did. There was still no sign of Lisette, Esofi’s other waiting lady, but Adale was used to that by now. Lisette came and went as she pleased.

  Even after a year, Adale was not completely certain how she felt about Lisette, or how Lisette felt about her. On the surface, the woman seemed to have nothing but thinly veiled disdain for Adale, always looking at her as though she was a misbehaving child.

  But Lisette had also been responsible for rescuing Adale from Albion’s old room when Brandt and Svana had locked her in there, hoping to keep Esofi from selecting her as a spouse a year and a half ago. If she’d really hated Adale, she wouldn’t have gone to the trouble. She would have let Esofi pick one of the twins and left it at that.

  Adale’s only guess was that Lisette’s loyalty to Esofi was stronger than her dislike of Adale. Adale could not imagine what it must be like to have that sort of strength of character.

  Adale crouched down to greet Carinth while Esofi went into the bedroom. He sniffed at her hands and bumped his forehead against hers, a habit he had picked up from the cat.

  “He’s more interested in hunting the dolls than playing with them,” sighed Mireille, tossing one across the room to demonstrate. Carinth bounded after it and pounced, his claws digging into the soft fabric. He took it in his mouth and shook his head from side to side vigorously.

  “I’m not sure if we should encourage that,” said Adale.

  Mireille’s reply was cut off by the sound of Esofi screaming in pain. Adale leaped up and dashed into the bedroom, one hand to the short blade at her belt.

  She found Esofi sitting on the floor, one leg held out in front of her. Blood poured from a long, narrow cut on the sole of her foot. A few inches away lay a silver dagger with a jeweled handle.

  “Guards!” Adale screamed as blood began to pool across the carpet. “Esofi, what happened?”

  “It was in my slipper,” Esofi whimpered.

  “Carinth,” realized Adale. At the sound of his own name, Carinth chirped and went over to Esofi, sniffing at the floor. To Adale’s surprise, Esofi reached out and slapped him across the nose. Carinth squeaked and scampered away from her.

  “Esofi!” cried Adale. She took a few steps toward the baby dragon, intending to pick him up and comfort him, but the doors opened and two guards burst in, their swords ready. Carinth slipped out from between Adale’s fingertips and darted past their boots, into the sitting room.

  “We need a healer,” Adale told the guards. One turned and ran, while the other knelt to press a handkerchief to Esofi’s foot.

  The healer, a white-robed acolyte of Adranus, arrived quickly. After the briefest inspection, he declared that the cut was clean and would be fixed easily. His hands glowed with white magic as he worked, the wounded flesh knitting back together without incident.

  “There,” he said, once the injury was healed. “Now, if it reopens or shows any signs of infection, call for me immediately. But you should be fine as long as you do not exert yourself.”

  “The carpet’s ruined,” sighed Esofi. But Adale found that she cared far less about that than she did Carinth. She went back out into the main sitting room to search for him but could not find him, even when she got down on her hands and knees to peer underneath the furniture. Then her eyes fell on the door that led to the outside hallway. It was not completely shut.

  “I think Carinth ran off,” Adale called to Esofi.

  “He won’t have gone far.” In the bedroom, Esofi was getting back to her feet with the healer’s help. She did not sound terribly concerned. Instead, she picked up the dagger and examined it. “Do you know who this might belong to?”

  Adale did not, nor could she bring herself to care very much about it after what she had just witnessed. “I expect they’ll find us once they realize it’s gone missing,” said Adale. The residents of the castle had quickly learned that any missing valuables had a good chance of turning up in Adale and Esofi’s rooms. “I’m going after Carinth.”

  When Esofi only nodded, Adale pressed her lips together and left the room.

  Adale knew all of Carinth’s favorite places to hide and all of his favorite people. There was a good chance he’d be with her mother or Knight-Commander Livius. Or he might be in the castle’s chapel, which was filled with lots of shiny things to admire. She decided she’d check there first. She did not want to explain herself to anyone just yet.

  Unfortunately, Adale was so distracted by her own thoughts that she did not notice the archpriestess of Dayluue until she was nearly on top of her.

  Birsgen’s archpriestess of Dayluue was a middle-aged woman named Tofa, and Adale might have mistaken her for an ordinary priestess, if not for the fact that she knew her personally. Tofa wore the same red-violet robes the rest of the priestesses of her order did, with no special decoration or ornamentation to set her apart from the others. In lieu of any jewelry, she had a few daisies woven into her braids.

  “Crown Princess!” cried the woman happily. “I was hoping I might run into you.”

  “Oh,” said Adale, glancing around desperately for a distraction. “Uh, well, I…I’m in a bit of a hurry—”

  “I’m here to see to Lady Catrin,” Archpriestess Tofa went on happily. “She’s due within the week. Perfectly healthy, nothing to worry about!”

  “Oh,” said Adale. “Well…good. Good. That’s good.”

  “None of my priestesses have reported seeing either of you come in for a Change.” Tofa moved forward even as Adale backed away. “We have all been expecting a visit from you for months now.”

  “Well, Esofi and I just want to focus on raising Carinth until he gets a little more independent. We wouldn’t be able to give a baby the attention it needs right now.”

  “Have you at least discussed which one of you wants to do the carrying?” pressed the archpriestess. “I’d recommend Princess Esofi, she has those wonderful—”

  “I am going now, goodbye!” yelled Adale, taking off in a sprint. Thankfully, Tofa did not pursue her.

  In truth, Adale was still not completely sure how she felt about having a baby. In the long run, she thought she might be equally happy with or without one. The idea did not fill her with the same sort of terror or dread that it had a year ago. But she had not lied when she’d told the archpriestess that she and Esofi were simply too busy to consider it right now.

  For while Esofi kept herself busy with overseeing the university, Adale was spending more and more time shadowing her parents, watching them work and learning what would someday be expected of her, making up for years spent running wild with her friends. Adale had been a miserable student since girlhood. Her tutors had tried their best to educate the young princess, but she was restless and unfocused and hardly retained anything she was told. And it was not as though she was incapable of learning: she picked up riding and hunting and falconry with ease. The trouble was that if a subject did not immediately catch Adale’s interest, it might as well not exist.

  But following her parents was different. With her tutors, there had only been laws and regulations and histories that felt as distant as the stars. Adale’s parents dealt with things that were real and far more compelling than any book or lecture.

  Once
Adale was certain that Tofa really wasn’t going to chase after her, she slowed back down to a walk. The Chapel of the Ten was not far, now. As its name suggested, the castle’s chapel was not dedicated to any one god or goddess, though it was most frequently used for sunrise services. When Adale pushed the heavy door open, it was still and silent within.

  The sole occupant was a young woman sitting on one of the benches, facing the altar. And when Adale approached, she saw that Carinth had laid his head on her lap like a loyal dog.

  “Carinth!” His golden eyes flicked to Adale, but he did not move his head. “Oh, we’re sulking, are we?”

  The strange young woman laughed and gave Carinth a colorful boiled sweet of out her pocket. Carinth caught it on the end of his tongue and swallowed it whole.

  “I’m sorry,” said Adale. “He thinks everyone in the world should love him.”

  “And rightly so. He’s just adorable, isn’t he?” The woman rested her hand on his head. “You are very fortunate.”

  “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. Have you just arrived?”

  “Only today. My name is Elyne of Otradosa.”

  “You’re from Vesolda?”

  Elyne nodded. “I came with Dame Orsina. She was delivering a message…”

  “Oh, yes. I met her earlier.” Adale noted that the other girl did not seem to be at all intimidated by her rank, which was uncommon for foreigners. Usually they were tense and awkward and bowed too often until they learned of Adale’s carefree nature. “Will you be in Ieflaria long?”

  “I’m not sure. It was quite a journey. I’d hate to leave so soon. There’s so much to see.” She stood up. Carinth shifted his head away but remained on the bench, his head pressed to the wooden seat. “I should go. Orsina worries about me if I’m gone too long, and she doesn’t speak the language. I’m sure I’ll see you again.”

  Once Elyne was gone, the heavy wooden doors of the chapel closing behind her, Adale sat down beside Carinth. His tail twitched, but he did not otherwise acknowledge her.

  “You’re planning to sleep in here?” Adale asked. “Only it’s going to get cold after a while.”