by Lynn Hardy
“I have often dreamed but never believed such could be true.” Szames’s sigh is too solemn to be facetious.
You may want monogamy, but when push comes to shove, it will never last, not here. “Come on, now. You don’t expect me to believe a guy like you would be interested in monogamy. You’re tall, built, and totally gorgeous, not to mention your princely status. You must have women throwing themselves at you right and left. Being ‘you’ is a man’s dream.” Crimson infuses my dinner partner’s face. I halt my rebuttal.
After his color returns to normal, he says, “You do say exactly what you mean.”
“I’m afraid so.” I work to keep my disappointment from showing. “If you’d like, I can try to be a little more circumspect, but I make no guarantees.”
“I am not offended, simply surprised. I will try to be as direct with you as well.” Clearing his throat, he begins, “I had a lot of fun, as you implied, when I was younger. Being a prince does have many advantages. There were—still are—many women of all varieties willing to take a stroll in the garden late at night. But after several years, it grew tiresome. I began to want more. Someone who would be there longer than a few nights. One would think it would not be so difficult to find.” Szames takes a long sip of wine before he continues. “It took years, two and a half to be exact. My relationship with Kealla lasted almost as long as it took to find her.”
The sadness in his voice is unmistakable, even without empathetic aid. “I told her of my desire for an exclusive relationship. She agreed. Like a fool I thought, even though we had a few problems, that once we worked through them, everything was fine. Then came the day she could no longer look into my eyes, all the while telling me how foolish it was that we tried to make our relationship into something which could never be.”
“Szames, I am so sorry. I had no idea.” Impulsively I place my hand over his, offering what comfort I can. With the contact, I perceive a small ache that’s overshadowed by astonishment. All emotion disappears lightning fast.
“She cheated on you?” I speak hastily to cover my shock at sensing anything. Before you lost interest and moved on: like Crystal says, it was only a matter of time.
“It was not even necessary to ask who enticed her. I had seen her in the company of my brother for the last couple of octals. It was the same as every other relationship. It simply took longer this time.” Szames shrugs off Alex’s betrayal as a fact of life.
“Believe it or not, I know exactly how you feel.” He gives me an incredulous look. I retrieve the pictures I conjured when Allinon questioned my twin’s existence.
“This is me on my world; in the transfer my appearance was altered. And this is my twin sister, Lani. Here’s one of us together.”
“You are a twin?” His amusement is so exuberant, even without empathy, I know it is genuine. “I have never met someone from a dual birth. Is she gifted as well? And these, what did you call them? Pictures? Like miniature paintings…”
I ignore his ignorance of the modern items and continue on with the original topic. “Lani is a warrior. Like you, she loves the challenge of combat. Unfortunately that also includes the conquering of men. It never mattered if I’d fallen for the guy or not. Most men weren’t as interested in what I had to offer—unconditional love, understanding, and a relationship—as what she offered. It caused me a lot of heartache when we were growing up. Like me, I’m sure you will find someone unaffected by your sibling rivalry.”
“I appreciate the thought, but I am afraid I have already stopped looking.” His wistful tone leaves me doubting his word. Of course he isn’t looking. No man on this world would chose to be with the same partner forever.
I shift subjects. “Szames, I forgot to thank you for coming to my rescue. If you hadn’t been there, I would’ve come away with much more than a scratch and a headache.”
The comical, wannabe debonair, totally contagious smile eclipses his face as he sloughs off the compliment. “Rescuing damsels is a prince’s first duty.”
“Then I’d better keep you close by. Something tells me I’m going to need a lot of rescuing.” We chuckle. The merriment leads me to follow my heart. I give in to my curiosity. “You mentioned King Sheldon a few times. I’d love to hear more about him and your ruling lineage.”
“King Sheldon is one of my favorite topics. Let me see, where to begin?” Snapping his fingers, he gives a boyish grin. “I have the perfect thing. If you are recovered enough for an adventure… ?”
Unable to resist, my smile is just as childlike. “Always!” Hard to believe I’m having a good time in the middle of a war. I’m glad I decided to trust him.
Szames leads me through a maze of cobwebbed corridors. In a matter of minutes, I am completely lost. Arriving at our destination, we sit on a dusty attic floor. He takes me into the past, weaving a story with paintings as references for the characters.
~
Two men stand side by side, looking out over the railing of a sailing ship. One is tall and lanky; the other, short and stout. Although physical opposites, something about them speaks of true friendship.
“But, Sheldon, the council will rebel if you bring this… this savage… home as a bride.” implores Marcus, King Sheldon’s most trusted counselor. “She is beautiful, and her body is the stuff of legends, but there are many such women who are civilized. I beg you, think this through. They still have not adjusted to the idea of you telling them who they can and cannot marry!”
“I advise you to watch the manner in which you refer to your new queen. Her name is her Majesty Milady Monique.”
Because of the sharp edge to the normally jovial voice, Marcus bows, relinquishing his position.
“Marc, let me worry about the council. By the time we get back, they will have had time to review the research I have compiled. They will come to see the wisdom of the Cousin Edict. My Rosa would still be here if that law had been passed generations ago.”
Marcus can find no words to comfort his king. Sheldon’s continual remorse at the loss of his wife still puzzles him. Yes, she was his best friend growing up, as well as his first cousin. And yes, her passing came unexpectedly at a time when they were still young. Love’s sunset had not yet come. But there is a time to let go. In Marc’s opinion, the time had come and gone long ago.
What Marcus could not understand was the sole reason Monique, princess of the Isles, had fallen in love with the still-grieving monarch. Beneath Sheldon’s comical appearance was a heart as enormous as it was fragile. The king had a pair of boats for feet. His six-and-a-half-foot stature would be a boon if not for the scarecrow body that wore it. What’s more, ears and a nose far too big for his ill-proportioned head serve to disguise the most precious man she ever met.
When she gazed into his eyes for the first time, she perceived his pain. The kindness with which he treated everyone, her people and all of his subjects; the tenderness he showed when she took him to her bed; these were the reasons she agreed to marry this king of some great land far away—not as an act of rebellion. It pained her that her father could not, or would not, see it any other way.
Even if she had to clothe her body in strange coverings, even if she had to cross the great waters, she would give this misunderstood giant of a man what he needed most: love. Perhaps one day the sadness in his eyes would be gone, perhaps not. She would love him regardless. And she knew he loved her, for she could feel it deep inside him. That was all that was important.
In the end, the nobles grew accustomed to the strange ways of their new queen. Did they not have an even stranger king? When Sheldon ordered the Consortium of Knowledge be built, they agreed. Their kingdom was the richest in all the known lands, thanks to the Cuthburan line of rulers. The people were content to follow the whims of their beloved, if eccentric, monarchs.
~
Curiosity cocks my head to one side. “What a beautiful story. Tell me: Did Sheldon ever stop grieving for his lost bride?”
“He developed a lung sickness
and was bedridden for the last two years of his life.” Somberly, Szames helps me rise. “In his delirium it is said he called repeatedly for Roseanne, his first love.”
“So it was a tragic love story.” I frown. “Is that why he’s your mentor?”
“Hmm, I never thought of it in that light before. I guess I have always idolized his dedication to learning and knowledge. His most famous saying is, ‘Those who cannot think, fight.’ It was he who began most of the treaties we still honor today.” His grin turns sarcastic as we meander toward the doorway. “A poor attitude for a leader of an army. I have always thought Alex and I should have been switched at birth. He has the warrior mentality, not me.”
I shake my head. “To the contrary. I would be worried about the magic I’m initiating if the army were led by someone with Alex’s attitude. Thinking of battle as glorious is a dangerous attribute in a commander. The best military leaders are those who use their brains first and the sword as a last resort.”
Noticing my yawn on the way back to my chambers, Szames makes a polite departure after setting a dinner date for tomorrow.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Ooo-weee, Sexy Momma, what’s up with the do? Don’t tell me the king’s puttin’ on another dinner,” Charles says as I open the door. If he’s not holding a grudge about that tongue lashing, I guess I can let it go, too.
“Not precisely. I’m having tea with Queen Szacquelyn after breakfast.” I sigh, tugging on one of the curls. “Crystal thought a change in my hairstyle was necessary.”
The elf, Charles, and I enter the security of my dining room. “Allinon, please tell me the urgent matter is good news. I could sure use some.”
“How would you like an explanation for your near-fatal moral lapse, little Miss Swoons-a-lot?” The elf’s smug tone flies right over my head. Hope floods through me, eclipsing everything else.
I address him in English for additional security. “Don’t keep me in suspense. The color in his aura isn’t even close to Charles’s charisma.”
Sipping on his tea, Allinon takes his time, milking the moment for all its worth. “When I saw your intimate proximity to Alex, I switched to magesight. Tendrils of his aura extended and mixed with yours. The closer you came to him, the more entwined the colors became. The intensification of the burgundy and gold glowing in your aura makes the answer obvious.”
“Not to me…” Bewildered, Charles shakes his head.
“The dominant color for Alex is mauve. If we took paints and mixed fuchsia for charisma with gold for telepathy, I bet we would get a shade close to his color. The real giveaway was Reba’s empathy and telepathy glowing like a receiving beacon. I believe Prince Alexandros has a kind of telepathic charisma.”
“So it is magic… of a kind. He exerts his charisma on a telepathic level. If my empathy is drawing in emotion, I get a double dose. Allinon, you’re a lifesaver.” Thank God I didn’t blast him! The towheaded elf glows with self-righteousness.
Talking aloud, I explore this new battlefield. “I’ll have to compose a spell…”
“Reba!” Allinon huffs, “Merithin told me about the danger of dead zones, didn’t you hear what he said! You can’t go flinging about magic, every time you are near him. Less is more. Try blocking your empathy.”
I blush at his rebuke, but nod my head. “Okay. Today I will go in with my empathy shielded and see if it makes a difference.”
The conversation ceases as we dig in to breakfast. After clearing my plate for a second time, I ready the waters for my next maneuver. “Allinon, that was some wicked power you wield. Why didn’t you tell me you were a shape-shifter?”
“When beginning a new campaign, it’s always best to have at least one hidden ability.” I force the smile to remain in place, despite the elf’s smugly superior tone. “It’s the main reason my Allinon character is as powerful as he is. I keep the shape-shifting hidden in the longwinded history I wrote. A lot of DM’s miss it. As a result my character has grown in power over the last twenty years.”
Charles warms to the topic, chiming in, “Yeah, I did the same thing. I’ve got a fifty-page short story I stole from meshing together some sex scenes from my mom’s romance novels. It explains my character’s promiscuity. Snuck into the middle of each romantic scene, I put a weapon’s mastery skill. Then when we are up against a new monster, I whip out an obscure weapon. I kill the monster and live to fight another day.”
Allinon’s brows draw down in puzzlement. “That explains our advanced skill, but what about you, Reba? You said you hadn’t gamed before, so you didn’t have a registered player to bring with you. Your character should’ve been a newbie like Chad’s: mastery in one or maybe two areas. You’ve got what, four masteries and two minors?”
I ignore the elf’s lapse on Jamison’s character’s name and explain my incredible good fortune. “Remember the registration process?” I lose myself in the memory. Kyle stands beside me once more…
~
“Good evening, sir, milady. Welcome to the Renaissance Hotel and Gaming World.” The clerk’s monotone speaks volumes about her boredom. “Will you be joining the crusaders in defending the hotel this weekend?”
“Only one.” Kyle gestures toward me, handing over his plastic.
Looks like I’m stuck running around a doggone castle instead of lounging by the pool. I should’ve told him there’s a big difference between playing videogames and role-playing. How is this marriage ever going to work if we can’t be honest about our feelings? I sigh, rolling my eyes. Who knows maybe a weekend away from reality is just what I need?
Kyle taps his wedding ring absentmindedly on the counter, “How long do your buffets run?”
“Food is available all day in the Royal Dining Arena,” the woman, whose nametag reads Mandy, replies by rote, slapping a scorecard and pencil down in front of me. “If you don’t have a character registered with the Dungeon and Dragon Association, you’ll need to fill out this form with your character attributes.”
Familiar with the videogame attribute screen, I begin distributing the allotted points.
“Roll these dice for bonus points.” The cashier hands me a trio of eight-sided dice the size of golf balls and a square container to roll them in.
Tossing the weird pieces shaped like two pyramids joined at one side, I tap my pencil on the blank line following the label NAME while waiting for them to settle. The emerald octahedrons rattle to a halt. “Cool, I got twenty-one extra points!” I shout, excited that I managed to get one of the highest scores.
“Mr. Bontrager.” Mandy’s bubbly enthusiasm is like waking a sleepwalker. She snags the sleeve of her supervisor. “She has rolled the three sevens! I need verification.”
The manager, who is no older than I am, cocks his head to one side. “You witnessed the roll? It’s authentic?”
“Yes, sir.” She smiles, handing him the box of dice.
“Milady,” Mr. Bontrager turns to me, the shopkeeper he is garbed as, resurfacing. “fortune has smiled upon you. You have rolled Destiny’s Fate. Your meals will be compliments of the king, and a seat will be reserved for you at his table. Your good fortune allows you to double your experience points. Destiny’s Fate also allows you to choose any of the weapons from our stock to aid you in your crusade.”
“I actually won something?” I’ve never won so much as a pack of gum.
“Yes, milady.” The manager bows again, his grin widening. “The weapon you will keep as a souvenir.”
I turn to my hubby. “Looks like we’ll have a really cool memento of our anniversary.” I look back at the hotel employee, who is waiting expectantly. “Since I’m a mage, I suppose I should take the staff I saw in your catalog.”
“Excellent choice, milady.” Noticing I have yet to fill out a name, he suggests, “With the power you will now wield, archmage would be an appropriate title. Perhaps something familiar, maybe a variation of your real name to complete your character’s name?”
I jot down Archm
age Reba on the top then begin distributing the points. I ignore the limited healing attribute, concentrating on my fighting abilities. I max out the magic and the staff then add the dagger for good measure. What else? “Hmm.” A few empathy points might let me sense attacks before they come. Woman’s Intuition looks good. Maxing it out may well give me extra hints. And who says I can’t read my husband’s mind? I throw the extra five points onto the telepathy column.
~
“You rolled three sevens.” Allinon’s jaw drops. “That is like hitting the trifecta.”
I shrug. “I guess I was meant to be here.” I edge the subject closer to where I want it to be as I broach the topic of the portal. Starting with my recent failure with the emerald and ending with Jamison’s revelation that he won’t be going home, I have the perfect lead-in.
“Guys, I gotta tell ya, I really know what they’re talking about. This world is so vivid. It’s like all my senses have come alive. Colors are brighter, odors stronger. For the first time in my life, I enjoy eating; everything has a distinct flavor. And when I use magic, I feel a sense of rightness, wholeness.”
“Are you staying too?” Charles interrupts.
“I’d love to but I have a husband. I’m going to talk to Merithin about performing a portal exchange. Since I can’t perform more than one portal spell, I want to try to bring Kyle out when I send you guys back. Unless you’ll give this place a second chance? With magic I can give you practically anything your heart desires. Consider letting me zap your families out here?” My twinkling smile crumbles as their faces cloud over.
