by Lisa Daneils
Spurred into action, Clark issued his orders while Rhionnan found herself unable to stop thinking about Greyson. As the men started on their way, her eyes were focused on the ground where Greyson had left them. Even from this distance, she could see the blood on the ground.
Beside her, a familiar voice called to her. Turning, the queen looked into Cinthia’s face. Her smile was fragile-looking as the lady-in-waiting said, “We need to get moving.”
With a quick nod, Rhionnan directed her horse to turn. The pair caught up to the men and the rest of the day was spent traveling largely in silence.
Chapter 7
Stubborn Beyond Reason
It was well after dark when they finally reached a place large enough for them to all stay. As they dismounted, Clark said, “By this time tomorrow, it should be easier to find a place big enough for all of us.”
“Are we getting close to home, then?” Cinthia asked as one of the men helped her down.
“We have another five days, but we are getting close enough that there will be towns, at least. Mind you, there will still be hours of largely nothing and no one on the roads, but there will be more options for stopping.”
“What a large kingdom this is. To think that it takes so long to cross this far from one of our neighbors back to the palace,” Cinthia said, her mind apparently already having forgotten about the events from earlier in the day.
“Well, we did go to the one furthest away, so it makes sense.”
“Still, that is quite impressive. And that all of this would be under pretty constant attack. It makes it clear just how much you have been holding your kingdom together, Your Majesty.” Cinthia smiled at her, but the fact that she had used such a formal address with Rhionnan meant that she was still feeling upset.
Clark dismounted. “I’m worried about the prince. Usually there is some sign of him as we travel, but I haven’t seen anything since the fight. Do you think that he may have…” He let whatever he was thinking trail off.
Cinthia waved her hands, “I bet that kind of concern for him would just irk him to no end. Greyson is entirely capable. Just let him be, or else we may make him decide to break his promise with his friend.”
“He would never do that,” Rhionnan responded without stopping to think.
“And how do you know that?” Cinthia asked, an arched eyebrow indicating that she was feeling less than cheery.
“Because Gr—the prince never goes back on a promise.”
“Before that first attack, when was the last time you saw him?” Cinthia pressed.
“Please, Cinthia, not now. I have a headache.”
For a fraction of a second, the lady-in-waiting narrowed her eyes. It was so fast that it could have just been a trick of Rhionnan’s exhausted imagination. When the lady spoke, it was in her usual kind tones, “Come along. You have had a very difficult day, and all that riding could not have been good for your ankle.”
Rhionnan stiffened. Apparently someone had not forgotten what Greyson had said. “It’s fine. Just a small sprain. I’m practically all better al—”
“Come along, dear, let’s get you taken care of.” Lady Cinthia did not wait for Rhionnan to agree, taking the queen’s arm and pulling her forward. The lady called to Clark, “I’ll take care of her, don’t you worry, little Clark. I’ll find out how badly she is injured, so you just focus on getting everything prepared for a nice, relaxing evening. We all could use it.”
Things seemed to be fairly normal as Cinthia got them a room and fussed over Rhionnan while they walked. However, once they were behind closed doors, she began to lay into the queen. “Just what do you think you are doing?” The lady’s voice was harsh and she almost looked intimidating with her hands on her hips. It was a sight that Rhionnan had rarely seen, and usually only when she was dealing with children. It was hard to imagine that the kind, sweet, simple Lady Cinthia was the same person as the woman in front of her.
Trying to treat her normally, the queen waved her off, “It’s fine. In case you have missed it, the prince keeps reminding us that he is much—”
Something smacked her on the side of the head. “Ouch!” When she opened her eyes, Cinthia was standing in front of her with a rolled-up piece of parchment.
“I owe him an apology of my own, but you are acting more like a spoiled child than a queen. You eavesdrop on our conversation. You refuse to talk about your relationship with him, giving him nothing but cold glares and icy discussion. You try to climb into his window. At first I thought you were both to blame. But after what happened earlier today, I can perfectly see why poor Greyson is so upset. You are—”
Rhionnan shot to her feet, “What is the meaning of this? I’m not some—” Again the parchment smacked her head, causing Rhionnan to flop back on the couch.
“You will not interrupt me because right now, he is almost 100% right.”
“Lady Cinthia, you will not—”
“I will do anything that is necessary. All you have to do is step out of this room and look at the men. Whenever you are around, they look uncertain and uncomfortable. Your indecision and inability to act are not without consequence. Because you are queen, you are hurting a lot more people than just Greyson. Now, start acting like a queen, or by the divines, I will finally leave this kingdom.”
This shook the queen, but she quickly realized it had to be a joke. “Oh please, like you are ever going to leave all of your family.”
“Who said I would leave any of them behind? We have only stayed because I promised that you were going to take good care of the kingdom, change things for the better. But as of right now, I think you are going down the wrong path, and I refuse to watch you act like a despot and a moron.”
“I do not have to stay here and listen to this,” Rhionnan once again stood up.
“Spoken like a truly privileged person.”
“Look, Lady Cinthia, I don’t know why you are being like this, but—”
“That’s exactly the problem. You absolutely do know why I am saying this, but like Greyson said, you are refusing to acknowledge your own faults. Are you still so in love with him that you lose all reason? Why are you acting like such a brat instead of the ruler we need?”
“I am not acting—”
Cinthia’s eyebrow shot up, and suddenly Rhionnan saw exactly what the lady-in-waiting meant.
“I am not going to sit around here and listen to you criticize me too. Not you, Cinthia. You are supposed to be on my side.”
“I am always on the side of the people. And until this trip, I thought that I knew you well. However, even before we encountered Prince Greyson, I had begun to doubt your abilities. This trip was supposed to prove me right, but almost everything you have done since we left has shown that I may be getting too blind to others’ faults as I age.”
“If you want to leave the kingdom, then go ahead. I’m not going to stop you.” Rhionnan spun on her heel, tweaking the injured ankle. Refusing to acknowledge it, she stubbornly stalked out of the room.
It was only after she knew she was out of sight that the queen leaned against the wall and began to massage her injured ankle. “Great, another lost ally. That’s all I need,” she muttered.
Not wanting to encounter anyone else, the queen again hurried outside. A part of her was aware that this repeated leaving without any kind of guard was a terrible idea, especially when they knew that the shape shifters were nearby, but she couldn’t help it. Her emotions had been all over the place, and now she truly felt alone. Hoping that she could cool down outside, Rhionnan again left an inn without any protection. And this time, she was injured.
Chapter 8
Admissions of Guilt
Once outside, the cool air felt good against her face. The sun had not yet set, so the queen knew she would need to be careful of being seen. After everything, she did not want to be reprimanded by one more person.
And if something were to happen to her out here, well, Cinthia had made it clear that as a qu
een, Rhionnan simply wasn’t measuring up to the expectation. Over the years, she had been adept at protecting the people, but it had come at some costs. She had largely isolated her kingdom from the others, in the beginning because they had laughed off her concerns about the shape shifters. Over time, though, she had returned the favor by refusing to help them, leaving neighboring kingdoms to learn the hard way how best to fight against something so unnatural. Clearly that had not been the right thing to do, but at the time, Rhionnan had wanted them to feel what she had felt when left to face an enemy alone. The only time she had ever felt like she had someone she could trust was the one year where she had Greyson.
A sad look crossed her face as she looked out over the rolling hills around them. Her mind mused over the beauty of it. As much as she loved the woods, they were a liability. It was impossible to know what lurked in the shadows. Rolling hills were more scenic and safer. Seeing a small path leading toward a pavilion, the queen set that as her destination. Getting to sit alone where no one was likely to accidently come across her seemed like the perfect way to start to clear her mind. It would beat being trapped in a room for the rest of the night.
Her mind meandered through recent events, replaying the things that were the most upsetting until she realized that was entirely counter-productive. Instead of letting her emotions get the better of her, she needed to see where she had made mistakes, then try to ensure that she didn’t make the same mistakes again.
The sound of voices brought her back to reality. Blinking, she looked around for the sources. Greyson and Clark were in the pavilion, both sitting and chatting in a way that looked almost friendly—or at least not nearly as confrontational as they had been most of the trip.
Her initial reaction was to hide and to hear what it was they were saying, but Rhionnan had already done that several times, and it had not gone well. Instead, she took a deep breath and let them know that she was there. “Excuse me, gentlemen.”
Greyson looked away as Clark stood up. He bowed, then immediately set about reprimanding her. “Your Majesty, you should not be wandering alone out here by yourself.”
“You are right. And you should not leave your men to determine what to do next.”
“I asked Thomas to manage them.”
“I know. He was busy being overwhelmed with the whole thing. Why do you think it was so easy for me to slip past a contingent of well-trained guards and knights?”
He looked away, “Point taken.”
A voice broke into their discussion, “Well, there is no reason for me to be here for this.” Greyson stood up and stepped out of the pavilion. Rhionnan noticed that his movements weren’t quite as smooth as normal.
“Sir Newman, if you would please go take care of the men, I would like to speak to Prince Greyson.”
“That’s quite alright,” the prince said, placing a hand on the nearest table, “I just need to catch my breath and I’ll be off.”
Clark looked between them, “I’m not going to leave you out here alone, Your Majesty.”
“I’m not alone. I’m with the best protector anyone could ask for.”
Greyson’s eyes narrowed, but he did not look at her. “As I said, I was just about to leave.”
Rhionnan continued to address her knight, “Don’t worry. In fact, if you could, please send one of the men down with a few clean rags and a warm bucket of water.”
“Is something wrong, Your Highness?”
“I just want to do a little cleaning up out in the open air.” It was obviously a lie, but Clark didn’t seem interested in learning why.
He cast a glance at Greyson, then said, “Alright. Prince Greyson, I beg of you, please do not leave the queen on her own. Someone will be down soon, so if you have other business, it will only be delayed by a few minutes.”
The seconds passed as Greyson seemed to consider his options. Finally, he said, “Alright, I’ll take care of your queen until someone gets here, but I will not wait long.”
“That is all I needed. Thank you very much, Your Highness.” With a low bow, the knight turned and left them.
Neither of the former lovers spoke as the departure of Clark seemed to take all sounds with him. The silence stretched out until Rhionnan decided to say the things that she had been thinking, even if Greyson didn’t want to hear them.
Taking a seat, she looked at her hands. “I’m so sorry, Greyson.”
He turned so that his back was to her as he leaned against a rail.
“I know that… I have no right to say anything, especially after everything, but I’m actually… really glad to see you again.”
She looked up just in time to see him begin to fall. He had hit the ground before the queen reached him. Hurrying to his side, Rhionnan began to look him over, trying to find out what was wrong. The prince’s hand moved away from his side and blood began to pool under him.
“Divines! What have you been hiding, Greyson?” Ripping off his jacket and clothing, Rhionnan quickly removed her own cloak and jacket. Working furiously, she began to curse herself for how stupid she had been. People were always telling her that she was too stubborn. It had never been clearer than right now. For the last few days, she had insisted on trying to speak with Greyson, despite his obvious rebuffs. Instead of bridging the gap between him and her people, the queen had inflamed the division. It was Cinthia who had ultimately been the adult as Rhionnan and Clark had taken turns ostracizing Greyson while clearly all he was doing was trying to protect them. Her hands worked to stem the flow of blood so that she could properly dress the wound.
“Who is this friend who makes you protect me, despite your obvious hate toward me? Is she someone who is special to you now?” The idea that he had finally found someone else hurt her far more than almost anything else that had happened in the last decade. “If that’s true, I have no… I want the best for you, so please don’t die on me. What will your family do if you die here?”
The idea seemed almost ridiculous, but in all of the time they had been together, she had never seen Greyson so gravely injured. Multiple times, she had seen him take on far greater numbers, coming out of it acting like it was no more than a light exercise routine.
“Your Highness?” A man’s voice caught her attention.
Quickly standing up, Rhionnan waved him over, “Bring all of that over here.” The young soldier looked at her, confusion clear on his face. “Hurry!”
Kneeling back down, she began to work on Greyson’s wounds as the young man brought a bucket of water and some rags over.
“Holy divines!” he muttered as he saw the dragon shifter on the ground.
“Don’t drop that, man! Bring it here, then go get the best medical support we have with us.”
“Yeees, yes, Your Majesty.” The young man placed the bucket near her, then started to fumble with the rags.
A hand shot up and stopped the guard from leaving them. “Get Cinthia.” Greyson’s eyes were unfocused as he looked up.
The poor young man looked at the queen, “Umm—”
She shook her head, “We need a medical professional.”
“Actually, Your Majesty, I just realized, that… I can’t… well, I shouldn’t leave you here alone.”
“Take her with you,” Greyson’s voice was weak, but there was still enough power behind it that the human body had a hard time ignoring the commands he issued. “I need someone who can keep a cool head and who understands me.”
It was like a shot through her heart. “We can’t leave you alone, Greyson. You have lost too much blood.”
“Then don’t make me argue with you and lose more.”
Rhionnan wanted to argue, but she realized that was exactly what he didn’t need. Grabbing the guard’s arm, the queen began to run toward the inn. When they were in shouting range, she inhaled and yelled, “Cinthia!”
Heads began to pop out of a number of places, including one out of a window near where Cinthia was staying. The guard asked, “What’s wrong, Your
Highness?”
“Send Cinthia!” she shouted back between deep breaths.
Less than a minute later, Cinthia came running out the back of the inn. “What is wrong? What has happened?”
Rhionnan leaned forward, a stitch in her side after running such a long distance at a pace she had not kept in years. Trying to get the words out, she pointed back at the pavilion, “Greyson—needs—you.”
Cinthia looked at the guard, who seemed to be in slightly better shape to talk, but not by much. He simply nodded.
“What has happened?” She looked worried. “Is he alright?”
Rhionnan shook her head, the frustration mounting. “Hurt.” She gulped in air. “Bleeding. Won’t. Stop.”
“Oh, divines, they didn’t!” Lifting up her cloak, the little woman began to run much faster than her size would suggest was possible.
Rhionnan looked after her, then reached out and fell down into a chair.
Cinthia turned after a few moments. “What are you doing? You’re coming too!”
Rhionnan looked at the guard, then after the figure disappearing into the fading light. He nodded at her, and together they returned to the pavilion.
Cinthia was already there by the time they reached it, and she looked far less winded than they did.
She was leaning over the shifter, her mouth running far faster than her legs. “Greyson, you half-witted fool, didn’t anyone tell you that you have limits?”
“You never know them until you test yourself.”
“This isn’t testing. If I didn’t know better, I would say this looks like extreme recklessness, bordering on… well, I’m not going to say that with you in this condition. I am not going to let this go.”
