Jovi sat in the chair beside the King and Queen and tapped her foot against the tiled floor. Neither of them spoke, nor did she, which made time move at a glacial pace. Her mother’s sobs pulled at her heartstrings, the one sound circling the room. She hadn’t stopped crying since the Frost Mages left.
Jovi couldn’t take it anymore. She had to know. “Father. Tell me more about the Frost Mages.”
“Frostspher is their home, as I’m sure you’ve learned in your studies.” The King’s tone came out soft, but shaky with barely contained anger. “Twenty years ago, they called upon our Kingdom for provisions for their war with the Fire Mages. I said no. They killed my son, your brother.” He glared at her. “That is all you need to know.”
There were so many words she wanted to say, so many more questions she wanted to ask, but she had a feeling her father wouldn’t listen to any of it.
After she weighed her options, Jovi stood and wrapped her arms around her chest. “I know you must be angry, but I fear you aren’t seeing things with open eyes. We are rulers. We are not to let our emotions rule us. Starting a war isn’t in our best interest right now.”
The King narrowed his eyes. “It might not be, daughter, but it is right. I cannot help the people who killed my son. Ever.”
Jovi walked down the three steps and stood in the open, where the Frost Mages were only minutes ago. “One rebel Mage killed your son. Not all of them. It would be different if he acted on orders from his King, but he did not. Sentencing a whole people to die because of the actions of one of them is not only wrong, it’s disappointing.”
The King stood. “Your opinion is noted, but it’s just that. An opinion. You do not rule Orendor. Not yet. You’d do well to remember that.”
Jovi let her jaw fall open. She couldn’t believe him. Never had he talked to her like this. Her hands curled into fists at her sides. “I do not rule. Yet. But I will rule. Sometimes, listening to guidance from someone sitting on the outside is exactly what one needs to make them open their eyes and see. You are blinded by rage and led by hatred. You must admit it before it takes you down a dangerous path.”
The King stomped down the three stairs and stood right in front of Jovi. “What I see is a little girl standing before me. A girl who thinks she knows everything, but in fact, the amount she knows about the world could be counted with one hand. Five fingers. Your books and lessons only teach you so much. You’ll never learn until you are out there, beyond the gates.”
Jovi chuckled angrily. “Really? Well, isn’t that funny, since you won’t ever let me leave this godforsaken castle?” She straightened her hands at her side and laid them flat against her dress. “And, speaking of leaving the castle. When is the last time you did?”
King Ryan’s nostrils flared. Once. Twice. His heavy breathing made Jovi’s hair fly around her face. Before he said anything, he sighed heavily, then rested a large hand on Jovi’s shoulder. “Your time will come, daughter. The wind might move slowly for you, but for your mother and me, it will come too soon.” Jovi cocked her eyebrow. “You must trust me, for this I do know about. Having children of your own will make you see things differently. Now get out of here and clean up for dinner. I’m starving.”
Jovi ran a hand through her hair. “Dinner? How can you even think about eating when the castle could be attacked at any moment?” And, why didn’t you ever answer my question? she wondered.
King Ryan smiled. “They won’t attack, daughter. They are all show, no action.”
Malador’s icy-eyed stare flashed before her eyes. There could be no mistake. He’d meant what he’d said. “Beg your pardon, Father, but I have to disagree. You killed one of his men without blinking. He won’t forget that.”
King Ryan shrugged. “Yes, well, he also froze one of my guards. I’d say we’re even.”
Jovi nodded, even though she didn’t agree for one moment. They weren’t even. Not even close. King Ryan had lost his first-born son to these people, one of his people, and in return the King had cursed all of them to never again have children of their own. Even? Not hardly.
Jovi curtsied. “I will go change for dinner.”
He touched her necklace. “Where did this jewel come from?”
“The village. This morning. An old shopkeeper gifted it to me. Isn’t it beautiful?”
“It looks quite lovely on you. Wear it tonight. It will brighten the day.”
She bowed, “As you wish.”
Jovi exited through the large doors, and right outside Cappa stood, following behind her as she passed him. She peered over her shoulder as she continued forward. “Never far away, are you?”
“Nope. I’m your personal guard, Princess. Have you had others that strayed?”
She shrugged. She’d never paid much attention. Guards had always circled her, so she’d gotten used to them, but one happened to be a lot better than five or six. For one: a single guard took up way less room, especially one without clanking armor. For two: fresh air happened to be a lot easier to come by without so many people sucking it in.
She climbed the grand staircase and entered her room. Before she closed her door, she turned to Cappa. “Stay here. I won’t be too long.”
“Go. Change for dinner. I’ll not go far.”
She closed the door and went to her wardrobe. Dresses of green and red, of gold and purple, all lined her closet. Finally, her eyes settled on a rose-colored gown of silk, flowers embroidered around the collar and sleeves as well as the hem. It matched her bright pink jewel perfectly, so she donned it and sat in front of her small mirror, braiding little pieces of her hair and wrapping the rest in a bun.
What a difference that makes, she thought. Most often, her hair replicated a ball of yarn, sticking out in pieces all over her head. Not today, though.
After, she dabbed a bit of pink stain on her lips and walked out of her room. Cappa had disappeared.
“Cappa? I’m going to dinner. Where are you?”
The door across from her room opened, revealing Cappa. He’d changed into a dark pair of pants and a maroon-colored shirt that brought out his gray eyes. His olive skin stood out against the deep red of his shirt. Had he dressed for dinner? Had King Ryan asked him to join them?
She scrunched her brows. “Are you coming to dinner, too?”
“Only to guard you, but the King insisted we dress for it as well.”
Jovi bit the inside of her cheek. “Most of the other guards wear their armor.”
Cappa smirked. “And we’ve had that discussion, already, haven’t we?”
Jovi smiled. His answer amused her, more so than she’d thought it would. She found him interesting. If he wasn’t her guard, she could see them being fast friends. “I suppose we have. Fine. Dress as you will. But let us go. I am famished.” A lie. She wasn’t hungry. Couldn’t think about food over the thoughs of war floating through her mind.
She descended the stairs as fast as her slipper-covered feet would allow and took a left at the bottom, entering the large dining hall. A long table sat in the middle, made of dark wood, almost black, surrounded by ten chairs the same color with high backs. A statuesque fireplace grew out of the wall behind the table, but it had always been more for decoration than keeping warm.
As she glided forward, Cappa stayed back and joined the other two guards at the door. At least he’d have some company.
Jovi slid into the seat at the side of the table. Her mother sat across from her father, who sat at the head of the table. The same as every other night. She glanced down the table. So many empty chairs. At one time, this castle might have had huge celebrations and guests from all over Orendor or even some of the other lands. But no longer. Now, it remained empty, except for Jovi, the King, and the Queen. There were servants and guards as well. But mostly, ghosts of the past filled the castle, their shadows stretching through the halls and their wails shouting their unhappiness for all to hear.
She took a deep breath as she noticed she’d forgotten to greet her pa
rents. “Good eve, Mother. Father.” She smiled. “I hope we are having something delicious for dinner tonight. I am rather hungry.” A pain lanced her temple. She hated having to be so formal, never being able to just be herself. Even around her parents.
Queen Rovia patted her arm. The tear tracks from earlier had disappeared. “I have picked venison tonight, dear heart.” Her voice came out a bit raspy.
Father sneered. “I would much rather have chicken.”
Chicken. Venison. Not much of a difference, really. Meat tasted like meat, and most of the time was served with potatoes and carrots. Sometimes, broccoli or green beans, but green vegetables grew more scarcely and depended on the season. Of course, since they happened to be her favorites.
Servers brought tin cups of red wine out. Jovi downed the entire contents in one long swallow, keeping her mouth too busy to talk. After she’d finished it, more servers came, shuffling plates upon plates onto the table with a practiced gait. Steam rose from each one as they removed the covers and revealed venison, boiled potatoes with butter, and glazed carrots.
I called that one. The thought tickled Jovi’s mind, almost making her snicker, but somehow, she held it in.
A mound of food covered her dish after the servers had finished. Once they’d dispersed, she placed heaping forkfuls into her mouth and filled it enough to keep any words from leaving her tongue. She wanted to bring up the Frost Mages and what the King planned to do if they did attack, but Jovi didn’t think it would be well received right now. King Ryan must have plenty of thoughts that swirled through his mind. None more pressing than the Mages. If he did not have a plan and she brought up a conversation about it, that would anger him again and force them into another argument. One she’d lose due to the stubborn, unbending ways of her father.
No, thanks. Not two times in one day, Jovi decided.
She gestured to the server to fill her cup. He did and she drank this one down as well. She didn’t like the taste of wine. Her parents had often made her sip it, a little here and there, and told her, “Jovi, you must grow accustomed to wine early on so you are able to swallow it. It is required of noble blood to drink noble beverages, and wine is among the noblest.”
Jovi gulped it down, not even tasting it. When she tipped the cup back, the tangy flavor of the last drop hit her tongue. Her head swam after the second cup. Maybe she shouldn’t have any more.
The rules meant nothing to her. She had to drink wine. Why? She had to be proper. Why? She was noble. Sure, but did she have to act better than everyone else because of it? Growing up in this world of nobility made no sense whatsoever.
It made her think back to her Uncle Meical. He’d left the castle when she could barely walk, only a small child. She didn’t remember him much, only the stories people told her about him. She could understand why he left, though. He’d tried so hard to stop King Ryan from enacting the curse and when he went ahead with the curse anyway, Meical had continued his brigade to get the King to offer the Mages the cure. Of course, Jovi’s father would never do that. So Meical, after he exhausted all avenues, had left the castle, not able to live amongst a king who would harm an entire race the way Jovi’s father had.
The world they lived in could chew someone up and spit them out all in the same day. She hated it most of the time, but she couldn’t leave. The procession of the royal line had become her responsibility, whether she wanted it or not.
She envied her uncle, though. More than he would ever know. Even though she wished, more than anything, that he’d been around so she had known him. Perhaps then she’d have someone to talk to.
Bite after bite she chewed, then swallowed, until her stomach swelled to the point it might burst. So much silence stretched around the table, wrapping all three of them in a blanket of the most uncomfortable fabric imaginable.
She couldn’t take it anymore. Jovi tapped her foot on the floor. The nervous energy escaped out her toes, but really, she needed the sound to keep her sane.
Her father raised his eyebrows at her. “Your dress is lovely. Is it the one your mother had made for your birthday?”
Jovi shook her head. “I found it in my closet. I think it’s older. I have so many dresses that I doubt I’ll ever wear them all.”
Queen Rovia smiled. “If that is your only problem, then it really isn’t a problem at all. Queens need dresses for every occasion.”
A chance stared at her from across the table, an opening in the conversation she’d wanted since she sat down. “Speaking of problems. What will we do about the Frost Mages?”
King Ryan sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his round belly. “Jovi. It is not for you to worry about. I have spoken with my war council. That is as much as I will tell you.”
“Father, how do you expect me to rule if you never show me how?”
Queen Rovia tapped her finger on the wooden table. “She has a point, my King.”
“Enough! I will not be double teamed by the two of you. When you need to know more, I will tell you more. Until then, drop the subject.”
Jovi slumped back. “Fine. Have it your way.”
Once again, silence came again, no less awkward than the last. The sour smell of lemons wafted over her as the servants carried out a cake.
Must be my favorite lemon cake. Of course, Mother would have them make it today, Jovi thought with a scowl.
But Jovi didn’t have the appetite for cake. “May I be excused?”
Queen Rovia frowned. “I had them make your favorite cake, in honor of the day of your birth.”
Jovi forced a smile. “Thank you, Mother. But I’m rather full tonight. And tired. I’d like to retire to my room, if that would be okay.”
Queen Rovia nodded. “Be excused. Sleep well, my daughter.”
Jovi nodded and stood. The room swayed for a moment before she gained her ground and rushed from the dining area. Cappa followed her as she high-tailed it to her room, hidden for the second time in a day. This time, she turned before she shut her door and said, “Go to bed. I will not bother you again this night.”
Cappa leaned against the opposite wall. “Your father sure doesn’t like talking with you about important matters, does he? I can see it really bothers you.”
Jovi narrowed her eyes. “Yes, you would see, wouldn’t you? You are paid to watch over me, after all. But, you aren’t paid to give me your opinion.”
“I had my eyes on you, and only you. I saw how upset it made you. I just wanted you to know you aren’t alone. If you want to talk, you can talk to me. We all need someone to talk to.”
“I don’t,” she said, but inside she screamed, Yes! I do. I do.
Cappa leaned forward and brushed his finger down her cheek. It sent shivers along her spine. “We all do.” He paused and paced down the hall. “Anyway, I think he’s wrong. I think the Frost Mages are an issue that will need to be dealt with sooner rather than later. I think they will come for the castle, if only to get the cure. I think your father is a fool if he thinks otherwise.”
A weight lifted from Jovi’s heavy shoulders. Someone agreed with her. She could share the information with her father and perhaps he’d listen to her now. But a guard taking her side would do nothing to make him see differently. What had she been thinking? “Well, it doesn’t matter a bit what either of us thinks, only the King. And he doesn’t agree with us, does he?”
Cappa shook his head. “I guess not. All the same, I don’t think it would hurt to be prepared. If I were you, I’d pack a bag and have it at the ready. Fill it with clothes, things you need. Maybe some food. If you must flee the castle for any reason, then you’re set. If you don’t, no harm done, right?”
Jovi nodded. She could hear the underlying meaning of his words. He didn’t think it would be long before the Frost Mages attacked. “I guess that would make sense.” She stared at her new guard for several seconds, wondering where he came from and how she got so lucky to finally have someone to talk to. Her father paid him to watch over her,
not talk with her, but he didn’t care and wanted to converse with her. A smile spread over her face as she ran her hand down the back of her door and found the handle. “Goodnight, Cappa.”
“Night, Princess. See you in the morning, if not sooner.”
With another smile, she shut her door and grabbed a bag from the bottom of her closet. No harm, right?
Cappa didn’t think so, and neither did she.
After she’d found the only pair of pants she owned and a couple shirts, she packed them away, put her nightgown on, laid down, and fell asleep.
When Jovi woke, darkness curved around her and smothered her. A cold sweat covered her body. She just wanted to sleep. Jovi squeezed her eyes shut, and tried to make her mind settle, but something had woken her, startled her, and wired her eyes open. Thunder boomed, and the brick walls shook around her. Her eyes opened wider as she jerked to a sitting position on her bed. The covers tangled around her legs, so she unwound herself and listened. Her heart beat so fast that if it had wings she’d have sailed through the night sky.
Lightning flashed, lighting up her room, and she released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
It’s just a storm, Jovi. Calm down, she convinced herself.
She dropped her legs to the side of the bed. The minute her bare feet touched the ice-cold floor, goose bumps snaked over the skin on her legs and arms. She lifted her legs and tucked them on the warm mattress. Another loud crack sounded, and before she could stop herself, she hopped up from her warm bed, skipping from foot to foot until she reached the window. Her eyes roamed over Kingsperch until they landed on…
No. It can’t be, Jovi’s mind reeled.
Her breath hitched, catching in her chest as her heart stopped for a second. Maybe even two.
It’s too late. They’re already here. Cappa was right, she thought even though she didn’t want to accept the truth. I was right.
Land of Strength and Sorrow Page 3
