by Cayla Kluver
I was momentarily at a loss, for this was the first time marriage had come up in conversation between us. Both of us knew the expectations held by our parents and the kingdom, so we had never felt the need to discuss the matter specifically. It was assumed, by Steldor at least, that we would in the future be wed. I had a different opinion.
“That wasn’t quite the proposal I envisioned,” I said, giving him a withering look.
He sighed. “Do you want me to get down on one knee, Alera? Is that it? If that will cause you to see things as they are, then I will gladly do it.”
“That will hardly be necessary, as you would only dirty your knee to hear an answer you would not welcome.” With no thought to the consequences, I forged ahead. “I believe you need to get past the childish assumption that everything will fall neatly into place for you, because the truth is, the expectations of my father, of my mother and sister, of the kingdom, cannot force me to marry you. In order for you to marry me, my Lord Steldor, I would have to say ‘I do,’ and quite frankly, I don’t!”
I brandished the bouquet he had given me in his face. “My only regret is that my flowers had to die in vain!”
I hurled the bouquet at his chest, then turned and stalked down the path, a triumphant smile pulling at the corners of my mouth.
As I reentered the palace, the same guard who had informed me of Steldor’s desire to meet with me was talking with Tadark.
“Your Highness,” he said, giving a slight bow. “The Captain of the Guard requests to see you and your bodyguard in his office. He said it was of some importance.”
I nodded to the guard, dismissing him, and my victorious feeling was eradicated by dread. Cannan had never before sent for me, and I could think of no reason for him to want to speak with me now. Did this have something to do with the courtship between his son and me? Should I add Cannan’s name to the growing list of people I had disappointed? The list that included London, my father, my mother and Steldor?
Tadark and I walked through the King’s Drawing Room to gain entry into the Throne Room, continuing across its floor to the Captain of the Guard’s office, which was located near the antechamber. As we entered Cannan’s domain, I saw Halias standing in the back of the room, though Miranna was nowhere to be seen.
The furnishings in Cannan’s office were dark and imposing, much like the man himself. Weapons of every kind hung on the walls or were confined in glass-fronted cabinets. A map of Hytanica hung on one wall, next to a map of the entire Recorah River Valley that identified neighboring kingdoms as well as our own. The Kingdoms of Gourhan and Emotana lay to the south, across the Recorah River. West of us, Lake Resare, fed by a tributary of the mighty river, marked our boundary with the Kingdom of Sarterad. I shuddered involuntarily as I noted the identification of the Empire of Cokyri in the high desert area of the Niñeyre Mountains to the north and east of our borders.
Cannan, as commander of Hytanica’s military, had to be the busiest man in Hytanica, for the heads of each of the military’s five divisions reported to him: the major in charge of the Reconnaissance Unit; Kade as sergeant at arms in command of the Palace Guard; the master-at-arms who headed the City Guard; the colonel who was the headmaster at the Military Academy; and the various battalion commanders who led the armed forces. In addition, the King’s Elite Guard, charged most specifically with defense of the King and the royal family, was under Cannan’s direct control. London, Halias, Destari and the others who held the rank of deputy captain were the highest-ranking officers in the military next to the Captain of the Guard.
Cannan sat behind his austere, heavy oak desk, studying several sheets of parchment. Behind and to his left, the door to the armory stood ajar, revealing an even wider variety of weaponry. A second door that led into the guardroom by the Grand Staircase was closed. Cannan raised his head as I entered, but did not rise.
“Please be seated, Princess Alera,” he said, motioning to the plain wooden chairs across from him on the other side of the desk.
As I complied, Tadark moved to stand on my right, Halias taking up a similar position on my left, neither sitting while in their captain’s office, although there were several chairs available.
Cannan did not waste time with small talk.
“Tadark has reported on the events that occurred during your visit to Baron Koranis’s country estate two days ago. He has informed me that you had a conversation with Narian. What was the nature of your interaction with him?”
I was startled by his interest, but nonetheless answered his question, albeit hesitantly.
“We discussed what he called the impracticality of my clothing.”
“Tell me more.”
“He said that I should be able to protect myself, that he thought Tadark’s protection was—” I glanced uncertainly at my bodyguard “—insufficient.” Tadark bristled but remained mute. “He told me Cokyrian women wear dresses only on formal occasions and that they always bear weapons.”
Cannan mulled over my words for a moment, then changed the topic slightly.
“Tell me about the dagger. Did you see where he had it concealed?”
“No,” I said with remorse, for I could provide very little useful information. “It was just there in his hand.”
Cannan did not seem disappointed by my answer. “Can you think of anything else that would be important for me to know?” His words gave me hope that this inquisition was soon to end.
I concentrated for a moment, and then recalled something I had not fully appreciated at the time, but which now gave me pause.
“He did say something rather odd to Tadark as he offered him his knife,” I said, recognizing halfway through my sentence that I was likely contradicting whatever story Tadark had woven to explain how he had managed to disarm Narian. “He said, ‘Cokyrians are never without weapons.’”
Cannan nodded and directed a question to Halias.
“And do you have any explanation for how this boy managed to get to the Princess without alerting you to his presence?”
Halias’s light blue eyes flicked in irritation in Tadark’s direction, as he apparently had not known before this moment that the younger guard had informed their captain of this aspect of the incident.
“I have no explanation, sir,” Halias said, coming to attention. “But I can assure you we were vigilant in our protection of the princesses. I know of only one other person who could have accomplished this, and he ought to be standing in Tadark’s place.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Tadark gave an offended huff, and Cannan shot him a silencing glare before turning back to Halias, his countenance stony.
I was dazed by the boldness of the bodyguard’s statement. Halias, unlike London, had never been one to challenge authority. He did his job in protecting my sister, but was generally content to trust his captain and the King to make important decisions. Now, as he looked staunchly at Cannan, I realized that Destari and I were not the only ones who still trusted London, regardless of how damaging the evidence against him might be.
Cannan had not broken eye contact with his deputy captain, and I slowly became conscious of the fact that Halias’s assertion could be viewed as insubordination. But just as I began to fret, the captain again scrutinized me, letting his Elite Guard’s defiance pass unaddressed.
“You had an exchange with Lord Narian on the balcony at the palace celebration last month,” he said, and I felt as though I were once more under interrogation. “What did you discuss at that time?”
I shifted, unsure what information he was hoping to obtain from me. I thought back to the evening when I had stood beside Narian on the balcony, all the while feeling that none of this was Cannan’s business, but too in awe of him to say so. Just as I concluded it would be best to tell him what I could, I remembered that I had confessed to Narian my disapproval of, and extreme dislike for, Steldor.
“Well…” I said, trying to phrase the information in such a way that I would not be forced to share
my opinion of Steldor with his father, “we talked about the importance of duty.”
A frown creased Cannan’s forehead, as though he were contemplating what would have prompted us to confer on such a topic.
“I see. Go on.”
“He told me that he despised having his life laid out for him.” I looked downward, examining my shoes, knowing, though no one else did, that my complaints about my obligations as Crown Princess had inspired this declaration from him.
If Cannan was aware of my discomfort, he ignored it.
“Interesting. Did he say anything else?”
“Yes…that at some point, I would have to choose between carrying out my duties and living my life.” I winced at Cannan’s penetrating look and quickly finished. “After that he offered to escort me back inside.” I did not elaborate, knowing everyone in the room was aware of what had happened after that.
A long silence followed as Cannan sank into thought, unperturbed by what I might be feeling. In truth, I found myself humbled and humiliated. Did the captain view my encounters with Narian as inappropriate? Perhaps he shared Steldor’s opinion of my conduct, that I should be approaching my responsibilities more seriously and not be wasting my time speaking to sixteen-year-old boys. I fidgeted with the folds of my skirt, desperate for this line of questioning to end, until Cannan spoke once more.
“I want you to return to Baron Koranis’s estate to visit Narian and his family several times during the next month. You will report to me on anything Narian tells you about Cokyri and his upbringing there.”
His candid request, or rather his outright order, tightened my stomach.
“Are you suggesting that I spy for you?”
“No,” he replied, unfazed by my response. “I simply want you to interact with him and relate to me any information he volunteers.”
I still was not happy with the idea.
“I don’t want to betray his trust,” I ventured, though I sensed my attempt to dissuade Cannan would be futile.
The captain was silent for a moment, as though deciding whether he owed me an explanation. When next he spoke, his voice was placating.
“You must understand that what Narian has told you of his past in your two brief meetings exceeds what he has revealed to any other person. In order for us to trust him, we need to learn about his life in Cokyri. Who raised him? What has been his training? How did he learn of his true identity?”
Cannan’s tone now became insistent, and his eyes held mine.
“It is imperative that we discover what we can about his background. He seems to be more open with you than with anyone else, and it behooves us to take advantage of that fact.”
I nodded, feeling rather childish for attempting to argue with him.
Cannan stood and planted his hands on the wood surface before him, brushing the sheets of parchment aside. He then spoke to the three of us, his voice unassailable.
“No one other than those in this room and the King has knowledge of this plan, and no other is to learn of it.” Addressing me, he continued, “You may choose to invite Princess Miranna on your return visits to see Narian. In fact, to avoid scrutiny, I would suggest that you do so. But she must remain ignorant as to your true purpose.”
Cannan’s eyes shifted to Halias’s face, and he allowed a transitory pause to emphasize his point.
“That is all,” he finished, straightening to his full height. “You may go now.”
I rose as Tadark and Halias turned to escort me back to my quarters. Having had very few dealings with the Captain of the Guard in the past, I was impressed by the measure of authority he had exhibited, even toward a member of the royal family. He was confident in a much different way from his son—Steldor was conceited, whereas Cannan was decisive. The deep respect I had for him made me feel as if I should have bowed prior to leaving his office.
It was early September, and this time my mother was hosting a recital in the Music Room of the palace. She had invited two dozen young noblewomen, accompanied by their mothers, to share their vocal abilities, as well as their accomplishments on the harp and flute. Miranna was to be one of the young women demonstrating her talents on the harp, but my mother had not approached me with a similar request, perhaps thinking I had endured enough stress over the last month as a result of the palace function I had orchestrated.
I was thankful that this gathering had a specific aim, as it meant there would be little time for gossip. I dreaded the questions that would be flung at me with respect to the altercation between Narian and Steldor that had taken place just ten days ago.
The Music Room was adjacent to the Queen’s Drawing Room, and likewise had a bay window that yielded a view of the East Courtyard. Two rows of benches had been arranged so that they faced away from the window toward the front of the room where the performers would sit or stand. As I selected a bench, I glanced outside and could see that summer was giving way to fall, as the flowers in the courtyard were beginning to forlornly wither and die while the leaves on the trees were taking on vibrant hues. As I seated myself, dark-eyed Reveina, ever the leader, slid in on one side of me, boy-obsessed Kalem on the other.
“So tell us,” said Reveina, brushing back her sleek brown tresses and leaning toward me. “What exactly happened between Lord Steldor and the Cokyrian?”
“Yes, we were in the ballroom that evening but did not witness the quarrel. We’ve heard so many conflicting versions of it that we want to know the truth from you,” Kalem added, her glistening gray eyes framed by her coal-black hair.
“His name is Lord Narian,” I said tersely. “And he is Hytanican, not Cokyrian.”
Neither my comments nor my argumentative manner dampened their enthusiasm.
“Did Steldor strike him? Did he strike Steldor?” Reveina was persistent. “We’ve heard both versions, and tend to believe the first, but the second would be so…”
“Worthy of gossip?” I finished.
“Yes, of course.” Kalem laughed.
I looked toward the front of the room, longing for the performances to begin. As Miranna, who was to play first, was not yet ready, I attempted to put a stop to the speculations as best I could.
“There was no fight at all. Steldor had just consumed more ale than he perhaps should have and became a little jealous. He did not like me speaking with Narian, although it was to be expected I would converse with the guest of honor.” I was being as tactful about the incident as I could. “Sorry to disappoint, but no one hit anyone.”
Their faces dropped and their lips formed pouts, as if they had at least expected I would make a good story out of it. Before they could say anything further, the first notes of the harp caught my ear and I was saved by the start of Miranna’s solo.
The recital continued for another two hours, alternating between singers and instrumentalists. Right before the last vocalist of the day, I excused myself, exiting the room so I would not have to deal with any further inquiries. I knew my mother would view my behavior as rude and that I would suffer a reprimand later, but that was a price I was willing to pay.
CHAPTER 17
ABHORRENT DEEDS AND SUCCESSFUL MISSIONS
BY THE TIME MIRANNA AND I PAID ANOTHER VISIT to Koranis’s country estate, harvest time was upon us. From mid-September through October, crops such as wheat, barley, rye and oats were gathered and stored, grapes were harvested for wine, honey was collected, and fruit, including the apples in the royal orchards, was picked. It was the most anticipated time of the year, culminating in a week of celebrations at the end of October that included feasting and dancing, along with a tournament and faire.
As we crossed the countryside in our buggy, I considered what Narian would think of the upcoming festivities. I doubted he would be as enthused as the rest of the kingdom, for if he had been disappointed by almost everything else he had seen in Hytanica, as Semari had indicated, then I supposed he would look askance at the Harvest Festival as well. Even so, I could not help but hope that after pa
rtaking of the most thrilling of the year’s celebrations, he would prove to be more impressed with Hytanica than he had been thus far.
Miranna and I chatted with Koranis and Alantonya upon our arrival at the Baron’s estate until we were interrupted by Semari, who bounded out of the house. Alantonya took advantage of her daughter’s appearance to retreat into the home, suggesting before she did so that we take another constitutional, though she reminded us to stay far from the river. Koranis also chose to take his leave, overwhelmed by the chattering of the two younger girls, but was intercepted by Tadark as he began to walk toward the stables. Curious as to what business my bodyguard would have with the Baron, I stepped away from my sister and her friend so as to position myself for eavesdropping.
“I believe this belongs to you,” Tadark was saying, sounding self-important, extending the dagger Narian had wielded after my fall into the river.
“Yes, that is mine,” Koranis affirmed, bewildered. “I assumed I had lost it. How ever did you come by it?”
“It wasn’t lost, sir,” explained a gleeful Tadark, probably knowing he was about to cause trouble for Narian and enjoying the bit of revenge he could exact for the embarrassment the young man had previously dealt him. “I took it from Lord Kyenn the last time we were here. I brought it to the Captain of the Guard as I did not know it was yours.”
Koranis looked blankly at Tadark for a moment.
“I remember having it when we were out riding and thought I must have dropped it. But if Kyenn had it…” A flush crept over his double chins as comprehension dawned.
“Kyenn!” he called, turning to face the house.
After several minutes and another angry call, Narian sauntered out the front door.
“In what manner did you come by my dagger?” Koranis demanded as his son came to stand before him.
“I removed it from its sheath,” Narian answered.
