The Reign of Trees

by Folkman, Lori

  She was carried away from the dais and into the castle that she knew as well as her own reflection. But it no longer felt warm and comforting to be here, likely due to the fact that she was bound as a prisoner.

  The throne room was already buzzing with activity when she was brought in, and then just moments later, Donovan was escorted into the room. His father was seated in a chair on the stand, just to the right of where King Gregory’s throne was; but her father did not sit on his throne, nor did Prince Harrington sit. They both approached her, looking like mighty panthers stalking their prey. Her first reaction was to shrink back in fear, but then she straightened her shoulders and felt her backbone fuse with strength. She had done no wrong. She bore no guilt. Justice would prevail.

  “A month, Illianah,” her father said, his voice like the angry bark of a dog. “It has been a month since you escaped Andoradda Castle. Where have you been?”

  “In hiding,” she said. She had hoped to sound as bold as she felt, but her voice seemed weak and demure compared to her father’s. “I feared for my safety.”

  “And so you took to sleeping with pigs?” he asked. “You look and smell retched, girl. No daughter of mine should ever be seen looking so …”

  “I did not have a choice, father. I had no means of living.”

  “Do not interrupt!” King Gregory turned to Donovan. “You sent her out into the cold, cruel world with nothing? It is as I thought—you wished her dead.”

  “No!” Illianah quickly replied. “He directed me to go to a chapel and claim sanctuary.”

  “Do not speak out of turn again, Illianah,” her father scolded. His words felt like he had reproved her with a spanking, just like he had frequently done when she was but a small child. There was no love here. He had not seen her in half-a-year, and he could not even greet her with a single kind word. “Answer me, Prince Henrick,” King Gregory demanded.

  “It is as she said. I gave her instructions on how to get through the forest and directed her to sanctuary in Lietstan.”

  Donovan wisely did not add that he had also instructed her to write to her father and tell him of her whereabouts so she may return home. How would she tell her father that she did not trust him to keep her safe?

  “But instead you chose to live as pauper, sleeping in barns and eating with pigs?”

  “I did no such thing: what you see is a result of me traveling night and day to get here in time to stop this injustice.”

  “How very kind and gallant of you to ride night and day to come rescue Prince Henrick.” Leif stepped forward, his face looking dark with wickedness. It was as if his entire countenance had changed since Illianah had last seen him. His fair skin and bright eyes never looked evil to her before—only powerful and oftentimes intimidating—but now it was as if his soul was surrounded by a cloud of thick black smoke: likely the same smoke which had choked the life out of thousands of Deltegran soldiers.

  She did not back away from Leif’s innuendo. “He was to be punished for my death, and clearly I am not dead. I could not allow an innocent man to die on my behalf.”

  “No, of course not.” Leif stepped away from her, but his eyes were still on her—watching her with eagle-like scrutiny. “I would like to think that you would do as much for any man, but your display out in the courtyard leads me to believe that this is more than just righting a wrong.”

  Yes, it was more. She could not hide that fact after her very public show of her tenderness toward the Prince of Deltegra.

  “I have had reports, Illianah,” he said, stepping in front of her and bringing his face close enough that she could feel the hotness of his breath, “of your infidelity. I know that you have not come to rescue just any man, but you have come to save the life of your lover.”

  “You are being charged with adultery,” her father said. “A most serious crime, especially for one of such high standards. You are to be an example to your people, Illianah. I cannot tolerate such indignant behavior!”

  She should have thought before she flung her body over Donovan’s in front of a crowd of thousands, but it was too late now. They all knew the affections of her heart.

  “She has committed no crime,” Donovan said, sounding as if he wished to jump in front of her accusers and protect her like she had done for him, but he was not able to move from the spot where he stood shackled ten feet from her. “She is not guilty of that which you accuse her.”

  Leif walked away from Illianah and stood in front of her love. It was as she had once imagined: Leif towered over Donovan like a giant standing above a child. But while Donovan looked as if he was half the man Leif was, Illianah knew otherwise. Donovan’s kindness spoke volumes as to the man he really was, and any one of his devoted citizens would attest to that.

  “She is not guilty?” Leif asked. “Then you accept full responsibility. You seduced her.”

  “No, I do not think that is possible.” Donovan’s lips hinted at the smallest of smiles; had the circumstances been any different, Illianah would have laughed. She knew Donovan did not think of himself as beguiling, yet she thought differently.

  “You make light of this matter?” Leif asked, leaning in toward Donovan in a manner that was meant to be imposing. “You are accused of committing adultery with … my … wife!” he yelled. “Do you not realize the seriousness of this charge?”

  “I do,” Donovan said, his voice submissive yet confident. “But I can assure you that the charges are unfounded. I knew her not.”

  “It is true,” Illianah said, her voice quivering like Aspen leaves. She wished she could sound as calm and confident as Donovan did, yet she knew in her heart that she had been unfaithful to Leif. Would the punishment be as severe?

  “Do not speak out of turn again, woman!” Leif yelled, pointing an angry finger in her direction. “If he is man at all, he can answer these charges himself without your assistance, Illianah.”

  Donovan’s jaw pulsed and she worried he would glare at her or further reprimand her, as Leif had done. But Donovan kept his black eyes on Leif. She had never seen Donovan look so menacing, and guessing from the way Leif straightened his back, he felt the pressure as well.

  “It is like we both have said: we are not guilty of that which we are accused. I can assure you Prince Harrington, not even my lips have known Princess Illianah.”

  Illianah clenched her mouth to stifle the gasp her heart just made. She had been so desperate to feel Donovan’s lips upon hers, and if she had any say in the matter, her lips would have locked with his through that entire moonlit night in Vieve. But Donovan knew better. He had not put them in a situation of debauchery.

  Leif’s eyes were just small slits in his tanned and weather-beaten face as he scowled at his rival. It was the face of a fierce warrior. Illianah could not guess his thoughts, but how could he not believe Donovan? Any man in his right mind would not question the word of a Da Via. But was Leif in his right mind?

  “My son,” King Henrick said from his seat near the thrones, “would not lie. If he says he knew her not, then it did not happen.”

  Once King Henrick had finished speaking, he began to cough violently. Illianah stepped toward him, but instantly spears were thrust at her. “Father!” she called. She was not just a common prisoner—how dare she be treated as such? King Henrick kept sputtering, yet he was given no aid. Each cough sounded worse than the last, and his face turned bright red as he struggled to breathe. “The good king needs help; allow me to tend to him.”

  “The old man is fine, princess. He does not need your attention, nor does he need your sympathies,” her father said, practically boiling with anger.

  She could tell from King Gregory’s tone that he was offended, as if Illianah’s concern for King Henrick meant she did not care for her own father. “Father,” she began, meaning to tell him she would do the same for him if he was ill, but he held his hand up to stop her.

  “Enough, Illianah! Do not force me to exclude you from your own trial.”

/>   King Gregory turned away from Illianah and nodded to Leif, motioning that they should move to the upper right corner of the room. As they stepped away, her father barked at one of the servants to get the “traitorous old wretch a drink of water.”

  While her father and her husband were engaged in conversation—obviously deciding her fate—she could not help but to look at Donovan. She expected him to be glad to meet her eyes, as she had just saved his life, but his eyes looked as if they had sunken into a black abyss, likely taking away his heart as well. He tried to give her an encouraging nod, but it fell short and instead looked as if he had just accepted yet another death sentence.

  “Do not give up,” she mouthed.

  He nodded, as if he understood her words, but apparently he did not take them to heart. Was their situation really so bleak?

  Her father and Leif returned to Donovan, with Leif taking the lead. “You are acquitted of the charges of adultery, however, if I find any evidence to the contrary, you can be assured you will not be given the honor of another trial. You are therefore sentenced as was your father: to a lifetime behind bars at your former castle, in your former kingdom, where you can witness your people bear your burdens upon their backs. You and your father are hereby ordered to return to Andoradda, accompanied by a legion of Burchessian soldiers. You leave immediately, as I do not think I can trust myself to be in your presence another minute without putting a knife through your heart, as it feels you have done to mine.”

  Illianah wanted to yell at Leif, calling him out of his lies. She knew nothing she had done would cause him pain in his heart, as she was certain he did not have one. Fortunately, she was able to hold her tongue this time, knowing those words would likely mark the last time she would ever hear her voice echo across the throne room.

  The guards moved to escort King Henrick from the room. Guards surrounded Donovan and ordered him to walk, but he called out. “Wait! What of Illianah? What is her fate?”

  “That is none of your concern,” her father said in his gruffest voice. It was a voice that was not typically challenged, yet Donovan did not seem deterred by the power exhibited in the powerful king’s voice.

  “It is my concern. I owe her my life. Surely she cannot be punished for this crime of which I was just acquitted.”

  “She is charged with high treason! Like I said, it is none of your concern! This is a matter concerning the crown of Burchess and not the former crown of Deltegra. Guards!” King Gregory ordered his men to remove Donovan and his father from the castle, but Donovan continued to struggle.

  Illianah’s heart broke as she watched him fight uselessly against ten men in armor with swords fastened upon their waists. His cries were barely heard above the sound of the scuffle. “You must let her go! She only meant to save me!”

  But that was not the case. Of course, her biggest priority was to keep Donovan’s head upon his shoulders; but additionally, the people of Burchess needed to know that the repression of their kingdom was not typical of the neighboring countries, nor was it the way of their ancestors. Illianah had read the history of her kingdom in the journals of her father’s predecessors—Burchess was once honest, valiant, and generous. Her father’s way was not true to their great legacy.

  The massive doors to the throne room slammed shut and echoed through her hollow heart. Donovan was gone. He was a prisoner. And she was no longer free. They would never meet again.

  King Gregory went to sit on his throne. He did not even look at Illianah as he passed, making her feel like she was nothing more than a street urchin. Now that they were in a more private setting, should he not show her an emotion other than anger? Could he not be the least bit glad to see her alive and well?

  Leif passed by her as well, and when he took to his throne, he sat with his shoulders tall and square, looking like an arrogant man who was not at all worried about the fate of his wife. In fact, he looked slightly amused. How like Leif to find satisfaction in the pain of others. Had her wrists not been bound, she would have run across the room and slapped that smug look off his face.

  It was not Leif who would decide her fate though—this became evident when he turned his head to the king, who looked to be stewing over a matter more complicated than Illianah had ever seen him have to shoulder.

  “I must admit Illianah,” King Gregory said, “I am quite at a loss of how to handle you. You look as wild as barn cat. There is nothing about your behavior which would indicate your upbringing as Princess of Burchess. You have shown your devotion for a man who is not your husband. And you have stood in front of your people— my people—and intentionally deceived them about the nature of this war. Do you wish to turn my people against me?”

  A great weight pulled on Illianah, making her feel as if she could fall through the castle’s foundation and into her grave. She knew her answer, yet she did not know if she could say it.

  “This is something I have never seen,” Leif said, sounding as if he might laugh. “I have never seen Illianah speechless.”

  “Perhaps there is hope for her yet,” the king said, sounding amused at Leif’s remarks. “Perhaps she does know how to think before she speaks.” The king glanced at Leif and they smiled as if they were laughing at the memory of a humorous hunting story. It sickened her that her father shared this camaraderie with a man of such bile wickedness as Leif. Her father’s poor judge of character spoke volumes for his own character.

  “Yes father,” she said, standing tall and fearless, “your people deserve to know how they are oppressed. They deserve to know that their men lost their lives fighting against a kingdom who was trying to preserve their freedom and their honor. They should know …”

  “Enough!” her father yelled. “How dare you?” His face grew as red as King Henrick’s had been during his coughing fit. “I am your father, Illianah. I have raised you since birth. How dare you betray me? After all the years I have tolerated you. After …”

  Illianah did not hesitate to interrupt. “Tolerated me? You act as if I was some burden upon you. As if you did me a favor by allowing me to walk the halls of your castle.”

  King Gregory sighed heavily. “I do not have the patience to deal with your emotions, Illianah. I never did understand how to deal with your outbursts. Perhaps I should have looked past my own pain and remarried just so you could have had a mother. It would have done you the world of good.”

  “Yes, perhaps.” Illianah could hear the sound of heartbreak in her voice, but she continued anyhow. “But where would that put your precious Prince Harrington? A second wife could have born you a son.”

  “Then I would not have had to worry about the kingdom someday falling into your hands—something which you are obviously not capable of. You should thank God that Prince Harrington even agreed to marry you. He is not to be mocked.”

  It felt as if a thousand small daggers had just flown across the room, leaving deep gashes over every inch of her soul. Her husband of seven days had a greater place in her father’s heart than she did, even after twenty years.

  “Your charges are most severe, Illianah. I cannot sentence you to a traitor’s death without first making certain your mind has not been altered. My guess is that the wily, wicked Prince Henrick had you under hypnosis. Why else would you run off to live as a pig’s keeper?

  “You are hereby sentenced to the north tower, where you will be cleaned, fed and given time to rest. I will send a physician to tend to you. After two days’ time, you will be expected to publically renounce your statements against my throne and my misuse of power. Once the people of Burchess are assured that you are no longer an advocate of the throne of Deltegra, your charges will be dismissed.”

  “And what then?” she asked. “Will I be sent to Deltegra to rule alongside Prince Harrington?”

  Leif smiled mischievously. “I think that would be the perfect punishment; both for you and your beloved Prince Henrick.”

  She knew she should keep her lips sealed tight and not say anything t
o infuriate her father and Leif, but being submissive to their wills felt as contradictory as hearing a hen crow at the crack of dawn in place of a rooster. “You can put me in the north tower for three hundred days, and yet I will not renounce my words. I will not rest until the world knows of your tyranny.”

  ***

  Illianah was surprised that she was still sentenced to the tower and not hung on the spot, but she supposed it was easier for her father this way. He seemed to want her put out of his sight and his mind as quickly as possible. It was likely that he really would keep her locked up here for three hundred days or longer, just so he would not have to decide her fate.

  She was bathed and fed, and just as she felt like she could collapse into bed and sleep for the rest of the century, she heard the clanking of a key in the door. Madame Partlet, the royal dressmaker, was let into the room. She crossed the room swiftly and pulled Illianah into a tight embrace. “Oh, child,” she whispered.

  Illianah had been so brave and bold today—finding strength well beyond her capacity, but upon being swept into the arms of her old friend and mentor, Illianah instantly began to cry, as her broken heart resounded through every corner of her body.

  “There, there,” Madame Partlet said. “Do not cry. You are finally home.”

  “And that is why I cry,” Illianah said.

  “Then they are tears of joy?”

  “No.” Illianah tried to swallow the choking emotions. “This is no longer my home. I want no part of this kingdom.”

  Madame Partlet released Illianah from the embrace and looked at her inquisitively. “Illianah, those claims come with very serious consequences. Do you understand that the penalty for such words will be death?”

  Madame Partlet towered over Illianah by nearly a head. As a child, Illianah had always been impressed with the woman, as she was not only tall in stature, but also had such a commanding presence about her. She was regal. Well bred. Illianah had hoped she would grow in sophistication to the point where she was revered like Madame Partlet, but instead, Illianah had become the biggest buffoon in all of Burchess. She could only imagine what people were saying about her at this very moment.