by Shea, K. M.
“I don’t believe you,” Falk said.
Elise winced. “After saying the same thing to you on numerous occasions I suppose I deserved that.”
“Even though Father will leave the decision up to you, you will marry for the better of the country if Rune can’t win you over.”
Elise narrowed her eyes. “That’s true; I forgot the financial aspect. Well, if you want to marry me, we will have to make sacrifices. Financial ones. I won’t marry until Arcainia is back on track, and Carabas harbor is opened. But we’re crafty. We will manage. We’ll just have to increase our agricultural exports.”
Falk blinked. “I recognize I’m not the most social man, but I am certain most women don’t consider budgets and line items when talking about love.”
“Why not? You love me; I love you. That seems pretty settled,” Elise said.
“This is completely unromantic. Even I recognize it,” Falk grumbled.
“Falk,” Elise said, stepping close enough to take his hand. “We are just getting over defeating a wicked witch. I spent the summer saving you and your brothers, and you spent the summer guarding me and looking for ways to ease my pain. As far as I’m concerned, there was a cloud of dramatic tension and love hanging over our head for the past season. I welcome a clear-cut business goal to work towards that will also bring me personal happiness.”
“I still don’t believe you,” Falk said, his head tipped as he looked down at her.
“Fair enough,” Elise said before sliding her arm behind Falk’s neck and standing on her tip-toes so she could kiss him. She blushed heavily as their lips met.
Falk was so stunned, he did not respond for several seconds. Then he wrapped his arms around Elise, cradling her close.
“This is your last chance to back out, Elise. I love you. If you return my love, I will never let you go, and I will drive this country forward until you feel we can marry,” Falk said, his voice hoarse.
“I’ve made my choice, Falk. I love you,” Elise said.
Falk’s look of joy took Elise’s breath away. His eyes went soft, and his lips crept into a roguish grin as he traced Elise’s jaw with his fingertips. “Thank you,” he said, his lips brushing her forehead.
“Don’t thank me yet. We have to tell Father.”
“And Steffen.”
“And Rune. That one I will have to take care of, alone. You cannot rub this in his face.”
“You forget, Sweetness, out of all my brothers I am the one most likely to empathize with him,” Falk said before laying another kiss on Elise.
This was never a future Elise had considered, and in some ways it was exactly what Elise expected. She would marry a member of nobility who was highly influential in a government department. Working jointly, they could take their departments to new heights. But even in her most fanciful dreams, Elise never thought her husband would love her as deeply as Falk did. She never imagined kisses as passionate and tingling as the ones Falk gave her. She never dreamed she would love her husband with a matching passion.
So no, it wasn’t exactly what Elise had planned. It was a thousand times better.
For the first time in months, perhaps since the death of Queen Ingrid, Elise looked forward to the future.
When the new ambassador of Kozlovka took up his post in Arcainia, he complained to his predecessor. “Arcainia is a small country; why must we bow and scrape to them?”
The previous ambassador lifted his eyes to the heavens. “You so closely resemble myself when I first arrived at the Arcainian court that it pains me. I will tell you what my predecessor told me: do our country a favor, and keep your mouth shut until you have a solid grasp of Arcainia’s power.”
“I know plenty of Arcainia’s power,” the new ambassador protested.
“You are the second son of a duke who is known for being a rake. Forgive me for my doubts,” the previous ambassador wryly said.
The words stung the new ambassador of Kozlovka so much that he spent much of his first party in Arcainia sulking. “I don’t see what he’s talking about,” he muttered. “This court is a rag-tag spectacle. The royals are dressed no better than Mother’s maid.”
The country was pretty in an idealistic, cheerful song-bird sort of way. The ambassador of Kozlovka grudgingly admitted that the land was pretty and the subjects jolly, but the royals and the palace were a disgrace to behold. Why, the Crown Prince Steffen and his wife Princess Gabrielle were a handsome pair, dressed neatly in nice clothes, but there was no splendor. They did not drip with jewels or gold or expensive ornaments. The food was delicious but common, the castle was comfortable but not ornate. Even government employees were invited to the party, and they milled and conversed with Arcainian nobility without hesitation!
The ambassador of Kozlovka felt like he was visiting the estate of a country lord rather than a palace. “Disgraceful,” he muttered into his wine cup.
What surprised him was that an ambassador from every country on the continent was present. Not only were they attending, but many of them were acting oddly. The Loire ambassador was all smiles; the Sole representative laughed too loud, as if he was nervous; and the Verglas ambassador looked terrified.
“I don’t understand,” the ambassador of Kozlovka said when the Loire ambassador joined him in the corner he sulked in. “Why do you bow to these royals? Surely your own estates are more luxurious than this,” he said, his mouth twisting with disdain.
The Loire ambassador blinked. “Pardon?”
The ambassador of Kozlovka gestured to the pretty but plain ballroom. “This place is not at all grand. It’s a small, backwater country worth little or no notice. Why do you play attendant to the royals?”
“I hope that they will give a favorable report to the Black Court, of course,” the Loire ambassador said.
“The what?”
“You mean you don’t know?”
“Don’t know what?”
The Loire ambassador shook his head. “I do this because our countries have been allies for some time. This way,” he said, plunging into the crowds.
The ambassador of Kozlovka followed the Loire ambassador through the crowds, until they reached the far side of the room. “There,” the Loire ambassador said.
The corner of the room was occupied by Prince Falk, the head of the Agriculture Department, and his wife of one year, Princess Elise, the chief of the Treasury Department. Prince Falk was the second youngest of the seven princes of Arcainia. Princess Elise was more widely known for the fact that she possessed a natural magic. It had been considered ‘Shocking News’ at the time of their marriage, but the ambassador of Kozlovka hadn’t taken much note of it as the ‘Shocking News’ came from a small, unimportant country.
“That is Prince Falk and Princess Elise—what of them?” the ambassador of Kozlovka asked as he watched the pair.
Attendants danced around the prince and princess, and courtiers and ambassadors vied for the pair’s attention. The royal couple seemed utterly entranced with each other, though, exchanging smiles and sharing quiet laughter.
“They are the Black Court,” the Loire ambassador said.
“I don’t understand.”
“Prince Falk manages Arcainia’s agriculture industry which, in spite of being one of the smallest countries on the continent, is the largest exporter of crops and foods. Princess Elise manages the country’s purse strings. Not a coin enters or leaves the country without her knowledge. Being that they export everything from fish to crops to meat, and they are one of the few countries that can grow winter crops like radishes, carrots, and winter wheat, as a result their trading business is booming. Every continent on the country has some sort of dealings with them, whether it be agricultural or financial,” the Loire ambassador said. “If you anger one of them, you will find your country cut off from their exports, trade routes, and treasury services. If you make a good impression on them, they will be merciful to your country and keep prices low even though they have a monopoly on a larg
e amount of goods.”
“That cannot be. If they are so powerful, the country must be rich. Why, then, is everything so plain?” The ambassador of Kozlovka said.
The Loire ambassador shrugged. “To save money, Princess Elise imposes strict rules on the family’s conduct. They don’t seem to mind; they would rather hoard or invest their wealth than live in luxury, or so Princess Elise said.”
The ambassador of Kozlovka stared at the royal pair.
Prince Falk said something and kissed Princess Elise’s forehead, drawing a blush from the curly-haired princess.
“Prince Steffen will one day become King, and Princess Gabrielle the Queen, but it’s these two who run the majority of trade. They are the merchant monarchs of the continent,” the Loire ambassador said.
“Aunt Elise!” a gold-haired toddler shrieked as she skirted through the crowd around Prince Falk and Princess Elise. “Hide,” the toddler said, diving behind Elise’s skirts.
Seconds later, Prince Rune strolled past. “Hmm, I thought I saw her go this way. Where is she? Oh Princess Ria, where are you?” Prince Rune asked, winking at Princess Elise as he crept closer to her.
Those surrounding Prince Falk and Princess Elise backed up to watch the family spectacle.
“I don’t know, Rune. I haven’t seen her,” Princess Elise said.
“That’s too bad. I should move on, unless she’s here,” Prince Rune said, darting around Princess Elise to scoop up the giggling toddler.
The princess shrieked as Prince Rune tickled her tummy.
“Practicing for the future?” Prince Falk asked, his hand resting on his wife’s waist.
“Perhaps, although my wife isn’t due for a few more months and I hope—ouch—our child is not so conniving,” Rune said, wrenching the toddler from him to make her release her grip his hair. “There you go, Ria. Go find your mother,” he said, setting her back down.
The crowd completely dispersed with the little girl’s departure, but the ambassador of Kozlovka couldn’t look away. It was astounding to him that a royal family so, so normal would be the financial power of the continent. He barely noticed when the Loire ambassador slapped him on the back and moved on.
“As her father is Steffen and her mother is Gabrielle, Ria was statistically doomed to have a shrewd personality,” Prince Falk said. “That being explained, you should probably begin to worry.”
“Falk,” Princess Elise said, smacking her husband in the belly.
Prince Rune laughed good-naturedly. “And what of you two? Think you’ll be ready to unleash a child with your combined intelligence on the world?”
“Of course,” Prince Falk said. “But we won’t, yet.”
“Why not?” Prince Rune asked.
“All our investments are not at a point where I could think about being absent from work,” Princess Elise said. “Carabas Harbor has been operational only for four years, and I mean to expand our wool industry.”
“That’s rather auspicious,” Prince Rune said.
“I will not rest until all acknowledge Arcainia’s financial superiority,” Princess Elise said with a maniacal laugh, flexing her fingers as she grinned like a hungry wolf at the dancers and party attendees. She abruptly cut the expression short. “I haven’t seen Brida yet tonight. I’m off to find her. You two enjoy yourselves,” Princess Elise said, kissing Prince Falk on the cheek before she swirled away.
Prince Rune squinted as he watched her leave. “Sometimes she frightens me.”
Prince Falk sighed like a lovesick school boy. “I just love that side of her.”
Prince Rune eyed his brother. “Allow me to amend that. Sometimes you both frighten me.”
Prince Falk shrugged, and his eyes landed on the hapless ambassador of Kozlovka. “What do you want?” he imperiously asked.
“Nothing,” the ambassador of Kozlovka said, swallowing.
“Humph,” Prince Falk said before turning his attention back to his brother. “Elise received another letter from Prince Severin of Loire today.”
“Don’t their exchanges bother you?”
“Not at all. I’ve met his wife. Prince Severin isn’t the type to stray, but if he did, she would butcher him. Anyway, he’s wondering if he could send a few scholars to apprentice with Elise for a year or two.”
As the princes drifted away, the ambassador of Kozlovka could no longer hear the conversation. He took the moment of silence to reconsider his thoughts on the royal family of Arcainia. He knew they were involved in the Shimmer Conflict, but every royal family on the continent was. Going beyond that knowledge he knew they were one of the countries that were struck first by a rogue magic user.
He always thought it was sheer luck that had freed their country, but after witnessing the family interactions and name dropping for even a few minutes, it was abundantly clear to the ambassador of Kozlovka that Princess Elise and the royal family of Arcainia could handle any problem cast on their country.
Rune
Everything was burning.
Elise’s world was a wash of flames and heat. She wanted to cry out, she wanted to scream and howl in pain. But she couldn’t.
Clotilde was there, her death screams mixing with the roar of the hungry flames. Elise shut her eyes against the horrors, but she could feel the queen’s papery skin under her hand as the witch expired, turned to dust by Elise’s power.
Soon Elise would join the queen, turned to ash by the blistering flames.
Elise bolted upright, gasping for air and pushing her wild curls out of her face. “It was only a dream,” Elise said to her silent room. “I’m not in Verglas, about to be burned. I’m in Castle Brandis, in my room,” she said, her voice an audible reminder.
Elise shivered and burrowed back under her blankets, chilled by more than the cool air.
Besides the marked change in her relationship with her foster brothers, Elise’s curse-breaking-witch-slaying adventures added another aspect to her life: nightmares.
Elise knew Clotilde was evil, and she doubted anything but death would have ended her reign of terror, but the one-time queen’s screams and the feel of ending her life haunted Elise in her sleeping hours.
Just as bad were the nightmares of fire and burning. Between the two memories, Elise found it difficult to sleep to say the least.
Elise closed her eyes only to be assaulted by the sight of King Torgen’s mad, feverish eyes. His twisted laughter rang in her ears.
With a gasp Elise sat upright again. By the dying light of the fire, she pulled on a freshly laundered skirt over her nightclothes, and a thick robe. She slipped out of her room, taking care to shut the door without making a noise. Her room was surrounded by her brothers’ quarters; if they knew she was up, they would fuss.
Elise wrapped the robe tighter and made her way to the kitchens. Even at this late—or early—hour, a cook or two was sure to be up marinating meat or punching dough for breakfast. If she couldn’t sleep, Elise would rather be in the cheerful, warm kitchen.
Elise was almost there when a familiar voice stopped her.
“Elise?” Rune said. He was dusty; his hair was mussed, and he had a fresh cut on his cheek. He was carrying a crossbow and quiver, but at the moment he looked concerned.
“Rune, welcome home. You’re back sooner than expected,” Elise said.
“I finished my dealings with the goblins during the morning and decided to push to come home rather than camp another night. What is wrong?” Rune asked.
“Nothing. I couldn’t sleep,” Elise said, smiling to cover her partial truth.
Rune set the crossbow and quiver down so he could shed his traveling cloak. “That doesn’t seem like you,” he said, brushing off the black “hero” clothes he wore beneath the cape. Covered as they were, they were mostly spared from dust and debris.
Elise shrugged. “I thought a snack might help,” Elise said, glancing in the direction of the kitchens, although the thought of food made her green.
Rune studied he
r in uncomfortable silence. “Elise,” he finally said. “You did the right thing. There was no other option; Clotilde had to be killed.”
Elise winced, as though the words were a physical blow. “How did you know?”
“I have had to kill before as well.”
“Does the memory ever go away?” Elise asked, staring at the hemline of her robe.
“Not entirely, no. It fades, but you will always remember. It’s a good thing.”
Elise looked up, confused. “What? How?”
“It reminds you how precious life is, and it teaches you to be merciful,” Rune said, bridging the gap between them. “But Elise, while the memory will stay with you, you cannot let your guilt condemn you.”
“But I killed her,” Elise shivered. “Clotilde was a person, and I killed her.”
Rune eased his arms around Elise and pulled her flush against his chest. She hid her face in his shoulder, letting hot tears spill down her cheeks.
“She was. Clotilde was human like you and I, but she made bad choices. She embraced darkness, and looked to make others suffer for her ambitions. The only way to stop her rampage was to kill her; it was the consequence of her actions. I am sorry you were forced to pay the price for even a part of her sins. Your actions were just, and you must accept and realize that, or she will win even in her death,” Rune said, smoothing Elise’s hair away from her face.
Elise said nothing, but took comfort in Rune’s strength.
“Come,” Rune said after several moments, stepping back from Elise.
“Where are we going?”
“To Mother’s Salon,” Rune said, leading the way.
The royal quarters of Castle Brandis were not by any means opulent. Besides their bedrooms, the royal family had few private rooms. One of the rare exceptions was a sitting room that was once upon a time used almost exclusively by Queen Ingrid for entertaining guests. It was now used mostly for family meetings as it was one of the few places that was not on office that could seat the family.
Rune grabbed a torch from the wall and entered the salon, pausing to start a fire in the fireplace and to light several candles. When the room was adequately lit, Rune returned the torch to the hallway. “Sit,” he said, indicating to a plush settee.
