by Effie Calvin
“Crown Princess!” he cried in delight before Ioanna even had completely stepped down from the carriage. “It is an honor to have you here.” He came forward to clasp her hands. “I’d feared we might not be important enough to expect you as a visitor. I’m glad to see my worries were in vain.”
“You have heard of my cause?” asked Ioanna.
“Rumors say you were at Pomeria, and the countet gave their support after you demonstrated your incredible blessing. I hope you don’t find us imprudent, but we were hoping—”
“Yes, I know.” Ioanna smiled. “I’ve grown accustomed to proving myself in these past few weeks.”
“No disrespect meant—”
“Nonsense. You’d be a fool to take me at my word.” Ioanna looked around. “And this is your staff? Quite an impressive reception.”
“My father was a member of the Order of the Sun, well loved by our people. He died defending Enona from a wild gryphon—we suspect it was rabid, for they don’t usually come down from the mountains. I always regretted his early death, but in later years I came to be grateful he never lived to see what Xytae became.” The baron shook his head ruefully. “When news of your blessing came to us, naturally, we were all excited.”
“I’d love to hear more stories of your father,” said Ioanna. “I had no idea he was a paladin. It’s rare for them to marry.”
As they were escorted into the villa, still followed by the flock of servants, Vitaliya felt herself smile. People were finally beginning to realize how wonderful Ioanna was. No matter what happened between them in the future, she would not have to spend it alone.
Vitaliya was rather sad to leave Enona the next morning, for everyone had been so cheerful and friendly. They’d suffered through the war with Masim, losing family and resources to the campaign and obviously were tethering on the end of hope before Ioanna’s emergence.
Their next destination was Lysera, another small barony only a few days away from Enona, and the journey was uneventful. Like Enona, it was a community that mostly relied on its vineyards, for little else would grow so near to the rocky, colder northern border.
When their carriage rolled to a halt outside the city walls, Vitaliya watched as Ioanna selected yet another letter from her pile. But after a minute, when nobody approached the window or opened their carriage door, Ioanna got up.
Vitaliya watched as she stepped out, still holding the letter in her hands. The carriage was positioned so she could see four guards blocking the way—an excessive number, she thought, for a community so small. She wondered if they were going to get the same reception they had at Enona, but from the expressions on their faces, that wouldn’t be the case here.
“The baron isn’t able to see you,” one of the guards said. “You’ll have to move on.”
“What?” Vel laughed incredulously. “You can’t be serious!”
“I’m afraid so. Please, go. We cannot accommodate you here.”
“Listen here, you—” began Orsina angrily, but Ioanna raised a hand.
“It’s quite all right,” she said. “We don’t want any unpleasantness. If the baron won’t see us, we’ll be on our way. We’ve many other stops to make.”
“But—” Orsina protested.
“No, I don’t want to force my presence upon anyone.” Ioanna stepped back into the carriage and pulled the door shut behind her. “Let’s go. No sense in spending any more time here.”
After a moment, in which Vitaliya imagined Orsina and Vel both giving the guards dirty looks, the carriage began to move again.
“You probably could have ordered them to step aside,” commented Vitaliya.
“I suppose, but I don’t want to have to bully anyone into joining us. It sounds like the baron’s already made his choice. Our time would be better spent soliciting those who are still open to my ideas.”
“All right, but I’m going to make sure he’s not invited to your coronation!”
Ioanna smiled. “I’m not angry, really. I understand why he’s afraid.”
They made it back to the road without further incident. After a time, the farmlands became woodlands, which was pleasant because the trees shielded them from the worst of the sunlight. Vitaliya closed her eyes and fell into a not-quite-sleep.
She was pulled back into waking when the carriage rolled to an unexpected halt. Vitaliya opened her eyes in time to see Ioanna frown. From outside came the sound of muffled voices.
“What’s going on?” asked Vitaliya.
Ioanna opened the carriage door and stepped outside. Vitaliya would have much preferred to remain safely inside, but her curiosity was stronger than her self-preservation, so she followed—though only partway, so she could duck back inside if the situation turned bad.
Over Ioanna’s shoulder, Vitaliya could see Orsina and Vel both standing in front of the carriage, their swords drawn. Aelia was still up in the driver’s seat, but purple light had gathered around both her hands. All three were facing a group of people who blocked the road. With only a glance, Vitaliya could tell they were bandits.
These were not the children that had waylaid Otho’s wagon. They were adults, dressed in hardened leather and carrying swords that looked like they’d been taken off the bodies of real soldiers. Vitaliya tried to do a quick count but lost track after fifteen.
“I’m beginning to really dislike this place,” Vitaliya said.
“We just want to talk,” said the bandit nearest to the front of the group—the leader, Vitaliya supposed. Neither Orsina nor Vel seemed terribly convinced, but Ioanna stepped out of the wagon’s shadow and into the dappled sunlight.
“Wait,” she said. Vel looked back at her in horror, but Orsina did not move. “I want to hear what they have to say.”
“Probably that this is a toll road. We’ve all heard it before,” said Orsina dryly.
“It usually is, but it happens that passage is free today. It’s my birthday,” said the bandit woman. Vitaliya sputtered with laughter.
“Both of you get back in the carriage,” ordered Orsina. “We’ll deal with them.”
“I’d like to hear them out, actually,” said Ioanna. “We’ve already stopped. What’s a few more minutes?”
“They’re saying the emperor’s dead,” said the bandit woman, speaking hurriedly so that Orsina and Vel might hold off on attacking just a bit longer, “and the rightful heir was chased out of Xyuluthe. Now, we’re not ones to get involved in political struggles. What’s the difference between one empress and another, right? It hardly makes a difference out here. Except they’re saying this princess is different. Saying she’s promised to end the war, and maybe even do something about the priestesses snatching children and sending them off to die in the desert.”
“You—” Vitaliya had never seen Ioanna so incredulous before. “You want to join me?”
“Well, under normal circumstances, we wouldn’t get involved. Nobles’ promises don’t mean much after they’ve got their end of things, right? Except they’re saying you’ve got Truthsayer magic.”
“Yes,” said Ioanna. “That’s how I know it’s not really your birthday.”
This got a round of laughter from the assembled bandits, and the woman grinned.
“Everyone here knows how to fight. We’ve got our own gear, our own food, and you can pay us after the fact plus interest. You can’t say yes to those town guards and no to us. I’ll be offended and might even take it personally.”
“You’d be taking orders from paladins,” warned Ioanna. “Could you tolerate that?”
“Nobody mentioned paladins,” muttered someone in the group.
“Shut up!” the leader bellowed over her shoulder. “D’you want to break a noble’s face or not?”
“I’m not sure if you’re in this for the right reasons,” said Ioanna. “I find no glory in combat or suffering. If I knew a way to reclaim my throne without bloodshed, I would happily take it.”
“We’re not monsters, princess,” said the bandit le
ader. “We work the same—always give people a choice before the swords come out, right? That’s just civilized. Less mess, less trouble.”
“You can’t be seriously considering this!” objected Orsina. “We are not so desperate that we need to ally ourselves with common criminals!”
“We’re a little desperate,” said Vitaliya.
“Their intentions are honest,” said Ioanna. “And Xytae is their country, so they’ve a right to fight for it.”
“They’ll turn on you the moment they get a better offer from your sister! And besides, what will the next noble you visit say when you ride up to his house escorted by a company of bandits?”
“Can’t speak to that second one, but I can guarantee we’ll not fight for the other princess. Look.” She leaned forward and adjusted her sleeve, and Vitaliya realized her arm was a different color than the rest of her body, the color of polished wood—which it was, Vitaliya realized. Her arm was made of wood and metal; a bizarre and beautiful piece of craftsmanship.
“I was in Masim,” she said. “Lost my arm for the glory of the Empire. They sent me home, and the Temple of Inthi made me this thing. It even moves.” She wriggled some of her fingers to demonstrate. “Nice, isn’t it? Spent nearly every last copper I had on it. But then the Temple of Reygmadra got word. I already had the papers saying I was released from my service for my injury, but they took it back. Said the new arm negated it. And it was back to the battlefield. Or it would have been if I hadn’t made a run for it.”
“I am sorry,” said Ioanna. “That was unjust—and as far as I know, illegal.”
The bandit woman shrugged. “Maybe so, but I had no way to appeal it. And now they say I’m a deserter.”
“I promise I’ll have your name cleared once I’m empress,” Ioanna said. “And anyone else in your situation.”
Vitaliya could tell neither Orsina nor Vel were pleased with this decision, but she thought she might be on Ioanna’s side with this one. If the woman was telling the truth—and Ioanna would say so if she wasn’t—then she would be a helpful ally.
“Crown Princess, with all due respect—” began Orsina.
“I’ve made my decision,” Ioanna interrupted. “What is your name?”
“Modia. And this is the Bronze Boars.” She gestured back at the other bandits. “They may not be used to taking orders from paladins, but I’ll keep ’em in line, and you can hold me to it if I don’t.”
“Murderers and thieves. Knight-Commander Livius is going to kill us,” muttered Orsina.
“‘Us?’” Vel objected. “You’re safe! It’s me that has no goddess wife for protection!”
“Can we all please calm down?” interrupted Ioanna. “Modia. I’m still in the process of soliciting nobles and will be passing through several more communities. I think it would be best if you went on ahead of us—I can’t promise I’d be able to stop any local guards from arresting you, nor do I think your presence would add a great deal of credibility to my cause. But I will write you a letter, so you won’t be turned away at Nassai.”
“Nassai? Is that where your troops are gathering?” asked Modia.
“On my grandmother’s lands.” Ioanna nodded. “She is my most powerful supporter, and none of this could have happened without her influence. I only ask you keep the location a secret as you travel. My sister will learn of us eventually, but it’s my hope it won’t be too soon.”
“On my honor, we will tell no one,” swore Modia. “Unless they swear to join us.”
“Thank you,” said Ioanna. “And I’m sorry for what you’ve been made to endure.”
“Wasn’t your doing,” said Modia, with a wave of her hand. “And look—you’re undoing it anyway. That’s more than I’d ever expect from a princess. Maybe things won’t be terrible forever. I suppose we’ll see.”
Chapter Thirteen
IOANNA
Word of her blessing was spreading like wildfire. She’d thought their reception at Enona had been an unusual fluke, a combination of lucky timing and the Order of the Sun’s history in the area. But when they were stopped in a midsized town they’d only planned to pass through quietly by a crowd of people asking to see the future empress, she had to admit Aelia was correct.
People wanted to see her. They wanted to know if her blessing was real.
It was such a silly, selfish thing to care about, but Ioanna truly could not wait for the day she was formally assessed, and nobody would be able to question her blessing ever again. She was not offended by their skepticism, for she would be equally so if their positions were reversed. But the questions, the endless questions, were beginning to tire her. Now she found she looked forward to the days they spent between towns, regardless of how uncomfortable the tents were compared to true beds.
They never again received a reception as cold as the one at Lysera, but not all the nobles Ioanna solicited agreed to provide support. Some simply had nothing to give, for their situations were too desperate. Others were openly uncomfortable with Ioanna’s presence, and though they were never rude enough to order her out, she could tell they wanted her gone and trying to reason with them would be a waste of everyone’s time.
One morning, Ioanna woke late and wondered why nobody had come to rouse her. They were meant to be off to the next town as soon as possible, for they’d already been delayed enough. Vitaliya was still sound asleep beside her, and so Ioanna got up quietly to see what was going on.
When she stepped out of her tent, her heart stopped. A group of soldiers in unfamiliar uniforms had gathered in their camp. One was explaining something to Orsina, who had one hand lightly placed over her sword in a way that suggested she was not certain whether or not she believed his words. Ioanna went over to them.
“Dame Orsina. Who is this?” asked Ioanna.
“We have come from Duona, to the north,” explained the one who had been speaking to Orsina. Ioanna nodded, for she was familiar with the city. They hadn’t planned to stop there, for it seemed unlikely they’d find any support with the count—he was known to be a frequent visitor to Xyuluthe. “We have been sent to aid your cause.”
“Count Saverio sent you?” Ioanna raised her eyebrows.
“Yes. I’ve a letter from him.” He reached into his coat and passed it over. “When news of your blessing reached us, he asked for volunteers among the city guard to join with you.”
“I see,” said Ioanna. She could detect no lies from him or the letter, but she could not help but be a little suspicious. “You truly wish to serve my cause?”
“On our honor, we will see you crowned empress,” he said solemnly. “You are the rightful heir, and even if you were not…this war must come to an end before Xytae is nothing but a hollow shell.”
“I am surprised,” said Ioanna. “I’d no intention of soliciting Count Saverio. I did not believe he would take any interest in my words. Nevertheless, I’m glad he took the initiative to find me. This will not be forgotten.”
“Be wary, though,” the man advised. “Priestesses of Reygmadra are rare so far from the capital, but we do have a few. Doubtless they’ve heard of you too. They may already be on their way to report your efforts to your sister.”
“I don’t doubt it,” said Ioanna. She knew she wouldn’t be able to keep her movements a secret forever, but she hoped they could at least keep the fact they were gathering on her grandmother’s estate hidden for a bit longer.
Knight-Commander Livius should be in Nassai by now, if all had gone as planned. There’d been no communication from him, for such a thing was all but impossible and potentially dangerous. She hoped he was well.
She’d never been more grateful for Vitaliya’s presence, a small spot of light and color in a world that was becoming nothing but anxiety and military movements. Perhaps it would have been wiser to leave her in Oredia or somewhere equally safe, but Ioanna thought she might have run away weeks ago if not for her.
She only wished Vitaliya could bring herself to believe it. It was
obvious that, even now, she saw herself as unimportant. Ioanna was not sure where the issue stemmed from, nor was she sure how to fix it. She had already tried to communicate Vitaliya’s importance multiple times, but it never felt like Vitaliya truly believed her.
When she went back into the tent, Vitaliya was still asleep. She would sleep until noon unless someone woke her. Ioanna sat down beside her and ran her fingers through Vitaliya’s hair.
Vitaliya was so certain she’d have countless suitors—and Ioanna had to admit she was probably right about that just because any unmarried regent would be wading through proposals. But she could not muster up any enthusiasm for this possibility. None of them would know the first thing about her, nor would they really care.
The sensible thing to do would be to at least hear them out for Xytae’s sake. But for some reason, she did not feel like being sensible. At least, not about this. She’d spent her whole life being calm and reasonable and responsible. She felt she was owed a moment of happiness.
That was, of course, assuming Vitaliya wanted to stay with her. She’d seemed horrified by the prospect of becoming empress consort, which was unfortunately the only logical conclusion to their relationship in Ioanna’s eyes. But at the same time, Ioanna was confident Vitaliya did not want to leave her.
Vitaliya’s breathing changed, and Ioanna withdrew her hand just as she opened her eyes.
“What happened?” mumbled Vitaliya. “Something’s wrong?”
“No. We just slept late.” Ioanna paused. “And we have supporters from Duona now.”
“Oh, good. Who is that?”
“It’s not a person; it’s a city to the north. I hadn’t planned to go there, but they found us.”
Vitaliya stretched, nearly hitting Ioanna in the face. “Good! Better than good. That’s wonderful.” She continued to stretch, wriggling her shoulders. “I can’t wait until we’re done traveling. I think I’m tired of tents.”
“We’re starting southward today,” said Ioanna. “It won’t be long to Nassai. Assuming we make good time.”
