by Auryn Hadley
"We've all wondered the same." He paused at a cross hall. "I am sorry you had to suffer. Would it offend you if I toast your brother's memory tonight?"
"No," she said softly. "I'll look forward to hearing it. I miss him so much."
With that, they parted ways. Leyli was sure he bought her story. Palino had always looked down on women, thinking they were stupid and vapid creatures. She'd done nothing but assure him of his own arrogance. Sadly, without proof, there was little she could do to convict him. Even the King had to play in the rules he'd created, and the right to a fair trial was one of them.
By noon she was in her rooms, dressing for the event. Lady Brentano's maid was useful, but tedious. She wanted to lace the bodice too tight. She spent hours on Leyli's hair. The cosmetics she applied were outlandish. Her idea of dressing Leyli properly was to over emphasize her femininity. In the end, she felt like a whore instead of a princess.
The girl was barely out of her rooms before Leyli repaired it. The entire nation knew she'd been abducted. Most people thought she'd been at least raped, if she hadn't consented to the use of her body. The last thing she needed to do was dress like it. Adding loose strands of hair around her face, long, sharp pins to hold her mane off the back of her neck, and wiping away the stain on her lips, Leyli decided she was good enough.
Heading to the King's rooms to meet her father, she realized that Tristan had taught her more than she realized. Tonight she needed to impress the crowd. She had to be what they expected, and yet not. Neither a maid nor a matron, she needed to look strong without trying to take the role of a man. She needed to look like a ruler they could respect, without causing the assembled men to panic.
Declaring an heir was a simple affair. Typically held over dinner, the King would first make a speech, then announce his decision. When he was done, she would say a few words, then accept fealty from the nobility. Only after the lords had promised to protect her would they eat, and the conversation would center around impressing the future ruler. Leyli just hoped that marriage wasn't the only thing they could talk about. She wasn't sure she could handle that many men trying to woo her at once.
Once again, her father was pacing when she arrived. This time, she noticed that his stride was irregular. It wasn't a new thing, but growing up, she'd never thought much of his slight limp. Now, she couldn't help but think of it as a vulnerability. The wars of his youth had left him with physical reminders, just as her time in the games would one day stiffen her own joints. The King no longer wore his sword at his back. His arm simply couldn't reach it. He never ran, because his legs refused. Before her eyes was an older man, and the reality of his mortality hurt as much as the loss of her brother. It meant that one day she'd sit on his throne without the luxury of his advice.
"Any news of the Lion?" she asked, letting him know she'd arrived.
He turned and smiled at the sight of her. "No, sadly, but you look every bit the lady."
She ducked her head. "That's the intention, Dad. We don't need to terrify the nobility when we're begging for their loyalty."
"Leyli, they won't like it."
She lifted her chin. "I don't care. They don't have to like me. They just have to fear what happens if they try to stop me."
"Will you become a tyrant?" He lifted a brow.
"No," she assured him. "My duty is to the people of Norihame, not the lords of it. Dad, I'm not foolish enough to think I will be perfect, but I already know they aren't. I'm not accepting this because I want to rule, but because I'm terrified of what will happen if someone else does."
"Then you'll make a great queen." He kissed her forehead tenderly then, together, they headed to the massive dining hall.
Leyli entered on her father's arm and took the chair that had once been her mother's and more recently her brother's. It felt strange to sit at the center of the table. She'd never dreamed of anything like this, nor had she wanted it. Her youth had been spent learning to be a perfect wife, not a leader, but she knew she could do it. She was the Wolf of Oberhame, and the last one of the line.
"I know many of you have guessed why I called you here," Ilario said to the assembly. "When my son was killed, I demanded the official six months of mourning before announcing my heir. I'm a week early, but I think Norihame would be happier knowing the throne is secure."
He paused to take a drink of wine. The tiny delay made the Lords sit straighter. Eyes moved to Palino. Some looked at the more distant relatives. The glances made one thing obvious: not even the nobility were thrilled with the idea of the Domn of Lanmont wearing the crown.
The King carefully set down his goblet. "My own position as the King was secured by my three times great-grandmother. Queen Leandra inherited the throne upon the death of her father without any male heirs. She won many battles against the Emperor of Rhia, and we can still claim our freedom because of her. It is in her honor that I name my daughter, Princess Leylani Meridia Aravatti, as the single heir and future ruler of Norihame."
Dozens of faces whipped around to look at her. Both lords and ladies gaped in shock. A soft buzzing swept the room as the assembly tried to make sense of what they'd just heard. Leyli watched them all, looking for the rebellion in their eyes. Surprisingly, she found none of it. No one had expected her to be chosen, though. Maybe the revolt just needed time to brew before it became visible.
"Would you accept this honor, Daughter?" Ilario asked, turning to her.
She stood. "I will, Father, and I will do my best to deserve it."
"Then I give you Leylani Aravatti, heir to the throne of Norihame." Ilario bowed to her, then sat, giving her a chance to speak.
Leyli waited until the sound began to die. She'd learned how to control the crowd. She knew how to get noticed. When she had their complete attention, she waited three seconds more before addressing them all as their equal.
"Lords and ladies, I am almost as shocked as you. Naturally, I had a little more warning." She smiled, making light of the situation. "Sadly, my brother gave his life for me, leaving the nation with one less great man, and only me to take his place. I will never be my brother, I most certainly am not my father, but I hope to rule the country as fairly and as well as either of them have or could have. I know you will have reservations. I encourage you to speak to me about them, but the throne of Norihame is not the sole prize of the elite and wealthy. My only responsibility is to the people – the common ones who break their backs and blister their hands. Love me or hate me, I do not care. I will still do my best to give this country only what it deserves, and to make it a better place for the citizens within it."
With a slight tilt of her head, Leyli reclaimed her chair. That made her father stand again. With formal and traditional words, he invited all of the assembled nobility, both lords and their ladies, to swear their loyalty to him, the throne, and the new heir of Norihame. He chose phrases that would make it treasonous to refuse, and looked at them all with the taunt in his eyes.
One by one, Leyli's peers made their way before her. They all swore to honor her, her father, and the country as a whole. A few tried to be vague enough that it couldn't be used against them later, but Ilario wouldn't let them get away with it. Before he let them rise, he asked directly if they would be faithful or if they intended to refuse to acknowledge his choice of heir. They all swore they would be faithful and respect her reign after his.
Naturally, the Domn of Lanmont waited until last. His speech was flowery and pretentious, but he seemed impressed with himself for it. Only after he was allowed to rise did he ask the one thing so many had wondered.
"Sire, have you chosen a husband for her, yet?"
Ilario chuckled softly, rubbing at his mouth. "No, Palino, I have not. I felt that announcing her raise in position would make the offers a bit more favorable."
"Should we assume that you'll wait at least three months before accepting offers, to be sure there are no bastards?"
Leyli's jaw tensed, but Palino refused to look at her. Sh
e couldn't believe he'd say that in court, and so bluntly! The man had no tact.
"Whether or not my daughter has bastards has no bearing on this. That would be something for the suitors to weigh before making their offer."
"Surely," Palino insisted, "the future king has a right to know that the next generation of heirs are his."
That's when Leyli realized her father had guided the man right into the trap he wanted. Ilario leaned forward, a devious grin peeking through his beard. "My daughter's husband will not be king. She is my heir, which means that she will rule the nation. Her husband will be the Prince Consort. If he wants his children to rule, then he better make sure he keeps her happy enough that she does not look elsewhere. You see, Palino, the line of succession will be through my daughter, and her children are guaranteed to be hers."
"What man would accept that?" Palino asked, shocked enough to forget his place.
Ilario shrugged. "Royal marriages are usually for alliances. I'm sure our country will only be stronger for it. I also assume that when I begin to accept offers in two weeks, yours will not be one of them. Shame."
Leyli wasn't surprised at all that her cousin forgot to make his toast to her brother. It was better this way. The idiot had no idea that she was nothing like the woman he'd tried to ruin. Oh no, if Palino tried to come in her rooms again, she'd make sure he never left them alive.
Chapter 34
The offers began arriving the next day. Ilario set them all aside, assuring her that he would not bother with any of it until they found her Lion. Instead, they focused on the state of the country. Leyli talked with him about the things she'd learned about the games. He encouraged her to seek out Theodian in the future, to find a way to make it better. Then they began playing politics.
Leyli was always at his side. Whether that was to a dinner at someone's capital residence or a speech he made to the city, she was there. The people had accepted her too easily. Both she and her father kept waiting for the revolt. It had been almost two hundred years since a queen had been the sole ruler, but it seemed the country was willing to accept it once more.
The entertainers in the market pulled out stories of Queen Leandra. She'd been a charismatic figure, and an exciting one. Under her reign, Norihame had fought off the armies of Rhia repeatedly, as well as the Deitons to the south. Now, the Deitons were ruled by Rhia and the empire's expansion had slowed. Norihame had been peaceful for nearly twenty years, thanks to her father, but her ancestor's battles made Leyli's that much easier.
Unfortunately, things weren't all good. The Lion was gone. Merino's team had been split, and both groups were almost constantly on the road. Every day, a messenger returned to say that he'd been too late. The Lion had been there, but left just before his arrival. In her head, she kept count. If he had two fights per game, since she'd left, his last battle should have been the day before. That meant the next messenger should be informing her of his death.
Riding beside her father to another foolish dinner, this time with the Boier of Amylad, she could barely focus. Would she ever see him again? Maybe Theodian would know? Surely a man's last fight would make news in the circuits? The King was trying to distract her, pointing out the signs of loyalty among the common people they passed, but she couldn't stop thinking about it. Maybe that's why she kept hearing his name.
Over and over, either the word "lion" or the name of his town trickled in the background. When she tried to focus, she could never identify the source. Ilario gestured at a puppet show re-enacting her many times great-grandmother's deeds, but she didn't care. What she needed was to find Tristan. Her mind was so frantic that she nearly missed it.
Tacked to the side of the building, just behind the puppeteer, was a notice of the games in Oberhame. She'd always known the arena existed, but had never desired to see men hack each other apart. The flier was written for commoners, using more pictures than words. A large, gold beast took up the majority of the page, a crown on its head, a spear in its paw, and a chain on its leg. It was the numbers beneath it that made the whole thing make sense.
Two hundred and fifty.
"Dad!" She reached over and grabbed his arm. When he turned in shock, she pointed. "The notice behind the puppets. Does it have a date?"
He sent a guard to check. The man dismounted and jogged over, looking closely. When he turned, his face answered before he even shook his head, but thankfully the man wasn't willing to give up. He tapped the person beside him, pointed to the paper, and asked something. The commoner gestured to the distance, then the sky. The guard didn't even wait to make it back. He just yelled over the crowd.
"Sundown, Highness. Today! Here! It's him!"
She looked up. The sky was already changing. Pink clouds hung against a violet sky. The buildings hid the sunset, but she knew it was now. She was riding to eat with the Boier when her partner was about to face his death! She'd almost missed him, but he was here, right here under her nose. Leyli spared her father only a glance before wheeling her horse and shoving her heels in its side.
"Five men with her. She has my authority!" Ilario screamed as she raced away.
"Move!" Leyli yelled to the people in the street, pushing her horse faster. "Make way!"
Tristan was just at the edge of town, probably standing inside the portcullis, embracing his own fears, and she was parading around in pink silk. Leyli kicked again, abusing her horse in her frantic need to save her best friend. The horse would recover, but if she didn't make it in time, she'd never see him alive again.
The cobbled streets were too narrow, the crowd too thick. Leyli pushed, turned, and dodged the traffic, but each person in her way was another moment where her best friend could be dying. It took an eternity before she made it out of the crush and into a quiet street. This time, when she kicked her horse, he gave her everything.
Her dress flapped around her legs, the gelding's mane whipped at her arms, but Leyli rode with everything she had. She rode like Kale had taught her, leaning low over the neck, letting the horse find his own feet. She pushed the beast as hard as she could, praying to any god that would listen to give her time. Eventually the arena walls came into view, but her guards were lost from sight.
Leyli knew the arenas. Around the side was the team entrance, and that's where she headed. At the door, she halted the horse and slid down, her skirts riding high in her descent. Leaving her gelding waiting, she ran to the gate.
"By order of the Crown, let me in!" she screamed before she got there.
"It's the Princess," one of them said, shocked.
The other man fumbled at the lock, wrenching open the door just as she reached it. "Highness," he muttered, moving aside.
"Is the Lion of Lenlochlien here?"
The two men traded a glance. The first nodded. "Sounds like he just entered the arena."
"Damn it!"
She ran, letting her eyes adjust to the shadows. "Halt the games!" She saw light, and knew it had to be the tunnel to the sands. "Damn it, halt the games!"
"We can't," a guard snapped, turning. He saw her and paused. "Your Highness!"
"Is the Lion in there?"
"And twenty-five men, yes. We can't halt the games, Princess. The gladiators will turn on us."
"I need a damned sword and shield!"
A hand grabbed her shoulder. "You're welcome to mine, Princess."
She turned to see a man in black leathers, one arm covered in metal plates. Held before him were a steel round shield and a sword shorter than she was used to, but it would do. She nodded at him and began unbuckling her belt.
While her hands worked, bunching the skirts of her dress higher, Leyli dared to look onto the sands. Like Theodian had promised, Tristan was in the center. The other fighters were just making their way in, but it didn't look like the fight had started. She had time. She had to protect him. For weeks, she'd vowed to give her life to keep him safe, and it looked like she might have to. Leyli bucked the fabric against her waist, her dress barely hittin
g her knees, then took the sword and shield.
"Your name?" she asked, hearing the gong sound.
"Crush."
"Wolf. I need to save my partner." She turned to the gate. "Raise it."
The guard tried to back her away. "Highness."
"Damn it all, I order you to raise this fucking gate and let me in there!"
Someone heard and obeyed. The gate started to move, but Leyli didn't wait for it to make it all the way up. She just shoved her arm in the straps of the shield, shifted her fingers on the sword, and ducked under the sharp points. Her feet hit the sands running.
She was at the back of the pack, exactly where she wanted to be. While the group converged on Tristan, Leyli converged on them. Just as the men started to roar, reaching the center, she howled, cleaving the unprotected back of the man before her. Spinning with the blow, she took out another. The third realized something was wrong, but turned just in time to take her sword in his face. She grabbed his weapon as she pressed closer.
Over it all, she could hear Tristan's roar. Another man showed his back and died for it, then she found a gap. Leyli squeezed forward, screaming as she moved into view. "Tristan!"
His eyes shifted to the movement and she tossed the extra sword to him. He caught it with his right, and she saw the dagger in his left. Then his mouth curled up, and he turned away just as she reached his side. Leyli's back hit his. For the first time in weeks, she was whole again. She was right where she belonged, and the clatter of swords on her shield proved that he couldn't have made it without her. They danced.
"Can you get a shield?" she asked.
"Soon."
It was all she needed to know. A moment later, he lunged, and she stepped back to cover the gap, slicing at a man's leg. When he dropped, she spun, covering the cuts at Tristan's head. It only took a couple of seconds for him to get the shield on his arm, and she did her best to keep his limbs intact while he did. She couldn't stop them all, though. He screamed and blood flew as someone sliced at his arm. The flinch opened his guard and another man surged for it. Leyli jumped into the way, her shield almost blocking it, but she felt her own skin part as she knocked the sword away.
