by Effie Calvin
“I’m sure we won’t. People will be asking to join up every hour, and we’ll barely make it out of the mountains by sundown.”
“Well, I suppose there are worse problems to have.”
Ioanna was looking forward to their arrival at Nassai and taking stock of their forces. Her grandmother’s lands there were large, far larger than at Oredia, and it was more rural. Ioanna had only visited it once or twice in her entire life and recalled there’d been nothing to do except read the books she’d brought with her. They hadn’t even been allowed to wander through the fields for fear they’d trample the crops.
Vitaliya had reacted with disappointment when Ioanna explained most of the surrounding area was farmland and there were no major cities nearby, but she cheered up a little when Ioanna described the villa there, built to the same standards as the one in Oredia.
Vitaliya reached out for her with both arms, and Ioanna decided she didn’t mind being a few more minutes late. The tent was a comfortable temperature, and the fabric was thick enough to keep out the cold, yet still thin enough that it glowed faintly with morning light when the sun rose. And the bedrolls were soft and thick enough that one did not generally feel the ground beneath.
Vitaliya’s hands were warm and soft—softer than Ioanna might have expected, given her blessing and her time spent around farmers. But Vitaliya had never been allowed to handle the real tools, shovels and scythes and the like, nor had she been taught to use a weapon. Ioanna found her softness comforting, though, and allowed herself to be pulled back into the blankets.
Vitaliya pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “Is it cold outside?”
“Not colder than yesterday. It will be warmer when we make it out of the mountains.”
“It will be warmest if we stay in here forever.”
“I don’t know if that’s the best course of action.”
“Of course, it is,” murmured Vitaliya. Her lips trailed across Ioanna’s collarbone and up to her chin. “Of course, it is.”
“That’s difficult to argue with,” Ioanna whispered back. When Vitaliya smiled, the sight of it was so beautiful Ioanna wondered how in the world Vitaliya could think she’d ever let princes come and court her. “But the sooner we finish this, the sooner we can return to Xyuluthe. And you can get your old dresses back.”
“Oh! I’d forgotten about those. Do you think they’re still there, or they threw them away?”
“I’m not sure,” admitted Ioanna. “Maybe they sent them back to Vesolda?”
“I’d like to imagine everything’s exactly where I left it. All over the floor. And after you’ve stormed the capital and taken back the palace, we’ll go in and see everything exactly how it was.”
“I’m sure the servants will have at least picked them up—”
“No! This is my fantasy, not yours, and I say they’re still on the floor.”
Ioanna laughed. “If it’s that important to you, then very well. They’re still on the floor. And if they’ve been picked up by the time we arrive, I’ll order the servants to throw them back down. Is that acceptable?”
“Oh, she’s gone mad with power!” But Vitaliya was laughing now too. “You’re going to get a reputation for issuing ridiculous commands, and it will be all because of me.”
“Now, I’m curious. What other things were you thinking of asking me to do?”
“I don’t have any plans! It’s just this suspicion I have. I’ll ask for something silly not even expecting you to say yes, but then of course you will because…” Her voice trailed off, and she blinked several times as though she’d lost track of her thoughts.
“What?” asked Ioanna.
“Because…I don’t know why.” Vitaliya gazed up at her. “It’s just what you do. How you are. Going along with all my silly ideas like there’s merit to them. And I never really stopped to think about why.”
“I like your silly ideas,” said Ioanna. “I don’t need everything in my life to be serious every moment of the day. And it makes you happy, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, but—”
“Then why shouldn’t I?”
“I don’t know. Most people find it irritating after a while, and so I try not to…but with you, I’ve never felt like I had to hold back.”
“I’m glad. Maybe it means…” Now it was Ioanna who hesitated.
“What?”
“I don’t want to offend you.”
“I don’t think you’re capable of saying something offensive. Tell me before I die of curiosity.”
“It’s certainly nothing worth dying over. I was only wondering if we…” Ioanna struggled to find the correct words. “That is, perhaps I’m not experienced enough to say. Perhaps it’s always like this? With…other people?” For Vitaliya had lived a very different life than her, and in the past occupied her time with men and women and neutroi. Ioanna did not think she would ever be capable of taking such a casual approach to love or intimacy, but she understood why it had appealed to Vitaliya.
Vitaliya’s fingertips were so soft on her skin. “No,” she said. “It’s not. Nothing’s ever been like this.”
“It might not be too much longer,” Ioanna murmured. “We’re nearly at the end.”
“Does it have to be the end?” Vitaliya’s eyes were so intense. “Would you let me stay in Xyuluthe with you?”
“Of course, I would,” whispered Ioanna. “For as long as you wanted—”
“You’ll never be rid of me, then.”
“I can live with that,” Ioanna whispered into her hair. “Even if…I know you don’t want to be empress consort. And you wouldn’t have to be—it’s just a title; you don’t need another one when you’re already a princess. And I don’t want you to do anything that would make you unhappy.”
“Maybe I wouldn’t be unhappy.” When Ioanna looked down at her, Vitaliya averted her gaze and bit her lower lip. “It’s probably too early to say. I don’t know. Ask me again in a year or two. If you haven’t changed your mind in the meantime.”
Ioanna could not keep her smile hidden. Nor did she need to with Vitaliya. “I doubt I will.”
“You’re in love,” Vitaliya whispered up at her, mouth curling into a delighted smile as though she had just won something.
“You’re in love,” Ioanna retorted, picking up one of the extra pillows and dropping it over Vitaliya’s face. It was childish, and rather uncharacteristic of her, but in that moment, it was the only thing she could think of to do. Too late she realized it might have been better to kiss Vitaliya or something. Or anything. Her embarrassment doubled.
As the pillow landed, Vitaliya laughed and screamed at the same time. Ioanna was afraid everyone would think they were murdering each other—or worse—so she jumped back to her feet.
“Come on, we’re extremely late,” said Ioanna. “You can stay here forever if you like, but I’m taking the tent.”
“How unromantic! We’ll have to work on that.”
Ioanna wanted to ask what she had in mind but could not find the courage to say the words and spent the rest of the day regretting it.
Chapter Fourteen
VITALIYA
Nassai was just as beautiful as Oredia had been, despite the presence of the enormous encampment set up around Irianthe’s villa. As their carriage passed through the neat rows of tents, so meticulously organized that the layout could have only been planned by the paladins, Vitaliya marveled at the sheer number of people gathered there.
“It’s amazing!” said Vitaliya, leaning so far out the carriage window that Ioanna, fearing she might fall out, took hold of her dress. “There’s so many people here—I had no idea we’d get this many!”
“There’s more paladins than I expected,” murmured Ioanna. “Significantly more.”
“You wanted two hundred, didn’t you?” But Vitaliya thought she might agree. It was impossible to count them from a moving carriage, but no matter where she looked, she could see white tabards.
When they arrived at
the villa, Knight-Commander Livius was waiting for them. Vitaliya had never seen Ioanna embrace anyone before, apart from herself, but for a moment, she thought Ioanna might be about to hug him. She didn’t, though, only clasped his hands and began asking him eager questions about their forces.
“There are currently three hundred paladins gathered at Nassai. Most are Xytan exiles but also some Ieflarian and Vesoldan as well,” he explained. “They came when they heard what was on the verge of happening.”
“Then the Ieflarian and Vesoldan branches of the Order are supporting us? Openly?”
“Yes,” he confirmed. “Under normal circumstances, I would not expect such a thing. My fear is some will interpret this as a sign the Order intends to continue taking an active role in political machinations.”
“Do you think some within the Order will seek to use it as precedent?” Ioanna asked pointedly.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “If they did, I would oppose them—I want this to be the exception, not the rule. Else the Order would twist into something I would no longer recognize. But that is a question for much later. We’ve prepared reports for you regarding the numbers of soldiers here, as well as our supplies, and I’d like to advise you regarding some of the non-soldiers who have joined our cause. If you’ll come with me?”
“Of course. Vitaliya…” Ioanna met her eyes. “You might find this dull.”
“I’ll meet you later.” Vitaliya smiled encouragingly. She didn’t really want to separate from Ioanna, but she knew this meeting might go on for hours, and it would reflect poorly on Ioanna if she fell asleep during it.
“Do not leave the villa,” cautioned Livius. “I’d hoped to keep our location a secret yet, but with the sheer amount of people arriving… I know the news has reached Xyuluthe already. We may even have spies in our ranks.”
“Is there anyone you’d like me to question?” asked Ioanna.
“No, but we’ve twice as many people here as your grandmother expected. It’s become impossible for us to monitor them all.”
Vitaliya found herself inexplicably overcome with the urge to remain by Ioanna’s side. She opened her mouth to say she would stay, but the words died on her lips as she realized this might not be what was best for Ioanna. Perhaps there were spies in the camp, but what good would Vitaliya be against an assassin? Her presence would only add to the chaos, the danger.
Vitaliya closed her mouth and pressed her lips together. Ioanna and the knight-commander were so immersed in their conversation that neither had noticed her about to speak. Jealousy pricked at her but only for a brief, irrational moment. Livius was old enough to be her father. She had nothing to fear from him.
In fact, Vitaliya suspected he still saw Ioanna as a child. He treated her respectfully, of course. She’d never complained he behaved in a condescending manner or tried to overrule her wishes. But Vitaliya sensed he still thought of Ioanna as the little girl he’d known before his exile, not the woman she was now, like a father who could not admit his daughter was grown.
Another paladin escorted her to the villa. As they walked, Vitaliya glanced sidelong at him and wondered if the Order of the Sun would put forward suitors of their own for the new empress.
Like most priests, paladins had to renounce any family rank or titles they might hold before initiating. But that was only a matter of paperwork; there was no changing who one’s parents were. And if there were any who came from noble families…
Ioanna will send them away, Vitaliya reminded herself. She would not trouble herself or Ioanna with tedious jealousy for another moment! Besides, would a paladin even be a good match for her? They would have a lot in common, but would Ioanna want to marry someone who revered her, who saw her as nearer to a goddess than a person? That might be enjoyable for a few weeks, but Vitaliya imagined it would quickly grow tiresome.
Upon arriving at the villa, Vitaliya was greeted by Irianthe’s servants. They were all cheerful and friendly, but Vitaliya found herself wondering if any of them secretly resented Ioanna for turning their home into a military camp.
But as a servant led her down the halls to her room, Vitaliya noted the villa was actually rather peaceful. There were no paladins or soldiers about. Only servants and the occasional guard. She supposed they were probably all staying in the camp with the villa reserved for only the most important members of the army.
As usual, Vitaliya had no intention of using the room she’d been given, but she appreciated the gesture. Like her room back in Oredia, it had a bath, and Vitaliya wasted no time before stepping into the warm water. Back home, they had to have people with Inthi’s fire warm the water for baths. Xytae’s pipes were so much more convenient. Some had been left behind in the major cities after Vesolda became independent but had fallen into disrepair. Now there was nobody in the country who knew how to make them work again.
As Vitaliya soaked in the water, she wondered what Irianthe was doing now. Was Ioanna’s grandmother safe? She wouldn’t normally be worried, for the woman was undoubtably powerful and influential. But if Xyuluthe knew Ioanna’s resistance was gathering at Nassai, surely they’d suspect it was Irianthe’s doing?
Vitaliya took her time in the bath, and by the time she was done, it was rather late in the day. She was tired from the journey, and part of her considered climbing into bed and hoping that Ioanna came to her in a few hours. But another part of her was curious about the villa and about the people who had gathered to support Ioanna.
The idea of going and talking to members of Ioanna’s would-be army was intimidating, though. What could she say to people who were about to risk their lives? Especially since she knew she’d be safely behind them once the fighting started—assuming she was even allowed to go to Xyuluthe.
She and Ioanna had not discussed the matter yet, but she had a feeling when it came time to launch their final offensive, Vitaliya would be forced to remain in Nassai until it was all over.
Well, maybe she could find some fruit trees in the garden and hand out…not oranges, she was sick of those, but maybe pomegranates, cherries, or something else? If nothing else, it would be good for morale, and maybe everyone would forgive her for being useless.
The gardens were peaceful, and the villa’s high walls blocked out the worst of the noise from the surrounding encampment. The sun was fading, but it would still be light for a while longer.
She took note of fruit trees as she walked along, deciding she wouldn’t wake any of them up until she’d seen all her options. Her hands brushed against the bark instinctively, and the feeling of the wood beneath her hands was soothing. She considered taking her shoes off but decided against it. As nice as it would be to feel the dirt beneath her feet, she had to think of how her actions would reflect on Ioanna.
Would it still be like this when Ioanna was empress? The thought took her by surprise. She was no more confident about becoming empress consort than she’d been the first time Ioanna spoke the words. But regardless of titles, would it always be like this—with Ioanna in endless meetings while Vitaliya wandered around and tried not to embarrass her too badly, or at least be useful enough that people would forgive her when she inevitably did?
Perhaps she should have attended the meeting with Ioanna. It would not have been fun, but she would pay attention because she cared about Ioanna, and Ioanna cared about Xytae, and so, logically, Vitaliya cared about Xytae too. More importantly, she ought to be informed, so when Ioanna worried about this or that issue, Vitaliya could share her own perspective and give advice or simply commiserate.
But then, Vitaliya was a foreigner. Until her name was on a marriage contract, she could not realistically expect to be allowed to stand beside Ioanna at meetings of statecraft. Perhaps people would be lenient now if she’d asked to go with Ioanna today. But once Ioanna was empress…
She remembered standing in front of the doors to Irianthe’s study back at Oredia, waiting for the meeting to end. Would that be her entire life? Perpetually standing outside, c
ounting the seconds until Ioanna returned to her?
No, she would not allow that. She would find some way to be useful—whether raising crops or just throwing parties until the court forgot why they hadn’t supported Ioanna from the start.
The sound of shouting caught her attention, drawing Vitaliya back to reality. She turned away from the plants, curious but not concerned yet. Were they under attack? Or were the soldiers fighting amongst themselves as soldiers were sometimes known to do when they had no one else to direct their aggression toward? But most of the soldiers here were paladins, so that seemed unlikely.
Perhaps it would have been wisest to remain where she was, or even return to the house, but Vitaliya could not help but follow the noise. Surely she was in no danger now that she was in the villa surrounded by guards?
The noise was coming from the other side of the wall, toward the camp that surrounded them, and Vitaliya began to walk toward the entrance. Just as she came within sight of the wide opening, two maids rushed to her, their faces red and sweaty.
“Oh, hello!” said Vitaliya, surprised. “Is everything all right?”
“You must come with us immediately,” said one of the women, stepping forward. “A chaos goddess has attacked our soldiers.”
“What? Which one?” Cytha? Would she be foolish—or desperate—enough to attack a few hundred paladins? Or maybe Reygmadra herself, fed up with incompetent underlings? “We need to get Ioanna first—”
One of the servants grabbed her by the wrist. Her grip was surprisingly firm. “Come with us; we’ll get you to safety.”
“Yes, but—” Still disoriented and panicked, Vitaliya allowed the woman to pull her along. “What about Ioanna?”
“The paladins will protect her.”
“Wait.” Vitaliya dug her heels in to the soft ground, grateful she’d kept her shoes on after all. “Wait. I’m not going anywhere. Tell me what—”
The servant released Vitaliya’s wrist and sighed heavily. “Do it,” she said.
Before Vitaliya could ask what she was talking about, something struck her in the back of the head. The blow was like nothing Vitaliya had ever felt before. The world tilted, and went black before she remembered hitting the grass.
