by J. D. Wright
He glanced up at the hooded figure’s destination. There was a balcony above, with its doors wide open and light coming from inside the room. Dagan tried to visually map the castle in his mind, from where he was standing. The figure was obviously climbing up one of the wings, and there were three of them: the guest wing, the royal wing, and the knights’ wing. He knew this wasn’t the knights’ wing because it faced the east side of the castle. Dagan also remembered that his mother had shown him the royal wing from the gardens once, and he certainly wasn’t standing in the gardens. Besides, he knew that in the royal wing, all of the rooms had balconies and this wing only had one. So this was the guest wing, where he had been staying. He and…
Sidonie.
~*~
Running up the stairs, Dagan now wished he had taken those lessons on teleportation a bit more seriously. Instead, he had to take the stairs to the fourth floor of the castle, rushing past guards who shouted for him to slow down or he may run into someone. He wanted to run into someone. The someone who was scaling the side of Sidonie’s room at this very moment. Before reaching the top of the fourth floor, he quickly summoned fire in his palm, then deciding that fire was too dangerous with Sidonie in the room, settled on lightning instead.
Rounding the top of the stairs, Dagan heard a quick scream and bolted down the hallway. He could hear metal clanking behind him, meaning guards were coming, but he couldn’t wait for them. He flung Sidonie’s door open and ran inside. She was trying to fight off the intruder who had a dagger in each of his hands. Even in her nightgown, she was doing a good job of dodging his attacks. Dagan wondered where she had learned to fight like this. The intruder was getting more than he bargained for.
The figure swung an arm out and hit her in the side of the face with the hilt of his dagger, sending her sprawling across the room and into the wall next to the vanity. Suddenly the figure thrust one of the daggers through the air. It sliced into the wooden wall behind Sidonie, barely missing her head.
Before the man could throw the second dagger, Dagan shoved his right hand out toward the man, a small bolt of blue lightning shooting out of his palm and hitting the man in the chest. The man was stunned by the jolt, dropping the second dagger onto the floor. Dagan could hear the guards entering the room at this point, but he didn’t budge. He summoned air in both of his hands and gradually started to raise them up, sucking the air out of the man’s lungs and causing him to choke, lifting him off the floor slowly. Suddenly, a blade pierced through the intruder’s back, the tip coming out the front of his chest. Blood started gushing out of the wound, exactly where his heart was kept. The figure stopped struggling and went limp. Sidonie had picked up the figure’s dagger and stabbed him with it.
Seeing that choking was pointless now, Dagan dropped his hold and the body fell into a heap on the floor, revealing Sidonie standing behind it. Her face was still crimson red with rage, but her breathing seemed to be slowing. The guards came around Dagan to examine the body. Sir Nicholas ran into the room and put his arm around Sidonie, who was still standing there, silent and in shock. He led her into the hall. Dagan followed.
“Are you alright, Sidonie?” Nick asked. “You’re bleeding. I will send for the village physician.”
“No need, Sir Nicholas,” Dagan interrupted, “I can heal her.”
“Alright, sure. I will leave you to it then while I take care of… that,” he pointed to Sidonie’s room, then went back in.
“Come to my room. I need better lighting than this,” Dagan said, gesturing at the torches, barely lighting the hallway. Once in his room, Dagan snapped his fingers and the torches lit up again. He tried to lead Sidonie to a chair, but she pulled her arm away.
“Where were you?” she demanded. “I called out for you and you weren’t there. My room is three doors down from yours. You should have been there sooner!” She was furious with him, and he was just as furious with himself at this point.
“I came as soon as I saw that a man was climbing the wall! I had to run up four floors of stairs, Sidonie. Four of them!” he was now shouting along with her.
“How did you see him climbing the wall? Why were you outside in the middle of the night?”
“That isn’t any of your business!”
Sidonie realized now that she was overstepping. Seriously overstepping. He didn’t owe anything to her. Hell, they didn’t even know each other. Just because they shared one moment, strange and wonderful as it was, didn’t mean they were anything more than what they were: strangers.
Before she could open her mouth to apologize, Dagan said in a tone that was almost a whisper, “I was leaving.”
He walked over to the nearest chair and sat down, putting his face in his hands. Sidonie didn’t know what to do, so she stood there, staring at the stone floor. He was leaving the castle, but he came back. Why? Just to save her? He could have alerted the guards that someone was climbing the wall and left. But he chose to come back, up four floors of stairs to save her.
She felt like a fool. She was so out of place here. Just because she wore a new fancy dress and ate soup with a spoon, it didn’t make her one of them. Here she was, yelling at a wizard, whom she had been terrified of just hours before. Magic was the enemy. That’s what she had been taught. And if her sister were here to see her now, arguing with a wizard, sharing intimate moments with a wizard, and fighting alongside a wizard, it would bring shame to her people.
Lost in thought, Sidonie didn’t feel Dagan touching her face with his hand until the pain in her jaw went away. Snapped back into the present, Sidonie suddenly felt like she wanted to cry. She couldn’t bear to do that in front of Dagan, so she said, “Thank you,” and walked out the door, running to the end of the hall where she could be alone. Sitting on the top step, she wept.
Chapter Seven
The tension about the castle was ludicrous. Cicilly was beginning to lose her patience. How could everything go so awry in less than a day? The assassination attempt last night was intense and terrifying. The assassin was killed before he could be questioned as to who his target was. However, once his body was searched, Sir Ainsley had found a hand-drawn map on a slip of parchment, tucked into the killer’s pocket. The map had an arrow pointing to the room that Sidonie was in, which given the right wing, would have been the queen’s room. Whoever drew the map had confused the two wings of the castle.
Cicilly was quite glad for this, though, because Bree would have been much less prepared for an attack than Sidonie had been. The girl had fought off the intruder, her only real injuries being a busted lip and a sore jaw, which Dagan had already healed before Cicilly had seen her. Blessed they were, that Dagan happened to see the assassin climbing the side of the castle, and was able to reach Sidonie in time. Sidonie relayed that Dagan had been fearless, subduing the assassin long enough for her to stab him. It was quite the ordeal. However, it did provide proof that Junacave was not a secure as everyone had thought.
Raymun, Head of the Castle Guard, was now developing a new strategy for castle security. He stationed extra guards about the castle and grounds, doubling the patrols and adding new heightened restrictions on guests attending the harvest festival next week. Cicilly was grateful that the guard was devoted and loyal to its queen. At Cicilly’s suggestion, Bree had ordered a raise in pay for the guards who were now working extra patrols and stations.
Nick also proposed that Bree now receive a personal guard, which Cicilly fully agreed with. As it was, the queen could wander the castle and grounds as she pleased and Cicilly did not want her daughter to be restricted, trapped in her own home. A personal guard would stay with Bree, anywhere she went in the kingdom. Bree refused this suggestion at first, then finally agreed. For now, castle guards would take shifts as her personal guard until one could be appointed to her. The council would meet next week after thorough inquiries of all available guards were done and a decision could be made.
Unfortunately, castle security wasn’t
the only issue Cicilly was dealing with. Rowan had disappeared after they had arrived yesterday and Bree was clearly upset though she wouldn’t elaborate as to what had happened, confiding only in Finn. Nick was worried about Rowan as well, visiting him this morning in the village only to find that he wasn’t there. And if that wasn’t enough, apparently something had transpired between Dagan and Sidonie, though Cicilly couldn’t possibly imagine what, and now they were avoiding each other entirely, leaving the room if the other arrived. It surprised her that Sarita, being only six years old, was now the most content person in the castle.
“Frederick, dear, if you’re up there,” Cicilly spoke to the sky, “help me get through this week. I could really use your guidance.”
~*~
“Aunt Celeste!” Bree exclaimed as her mother’s sister entered the hall, just arriving from Vale, with two servants following behind her. Celeste was wearing a gorgeous gown with long sleeves and fur around the edges. The kingdom of Vale was located in the Valerian Mountains, which had already seen frost this time of year, so the inhabitants dressed for the colder weather. Bree, on the other hand, was still wearing her usual sleeveless or short sleeved gowns and shirts this time of year. It would be several weeks more before she would need to wear longer sleeves or fur. Today Bree was dressed in an ivory undershirt, light brown corset, and gold colored skirt. With her auburn hair, let down and flowing, she fit in perfectly with the colorful leaves of autumn.
“You must have made great time. We were not expecting you until later this evening, for the festival.”
“We decided to leave early, dear. Leitis said we might run into some trouble with the weather. You understand how that goes, I’m sure,” Celeste replied, hugging her niece. Leitis was the Royal Mage of Vale. He was quite a bit younger than Elric but well known at predicting the weather. It was smart to trust his advice.
“I do understand,” Bree replied. “Have you seen Mother yet?”
“No, I haven’t.”
Bree waived a servant over who had just finished hanging garland around the hall. “Please see to it that my aunt and her company’s rooms are ready. And have someone fetch their belongings.” She smiled at the servant who gave her a quick curtsy and left the room.
“I have heard great things about your new wizard, Bree, and I caught sight of him in the courtyard. Yum… I could dip him in milk and swallow him whole!”
Bree laughed at her aunt who was always a flirt. Celeste’s husband had died in a hunting accident just a few years after they were married. She had preferred to remain a widow after that, unattached. Though, she still had no problem admiring a fine man when she encountered one. And she had no problem finding men to admire her, either.
“Now, Celeste,” Cicilly began, having walked into the hall just in time to hear her sister’s remark, “leave that poor boy alone! You are old enough to be his mother, as am I!”
Always the actress, Celeste gave an exaggerated gasp, clutching her hand to her heart as if it were now shattered.
“Leave it to your sister to always spoil the fun!” Celeste laughed. Cicilly rolled her eyes then gave her sister a warm hug.
“It’s so good to see you Cel. How is Father?”
“Good, good,” Celeste answered. “And he sends his deep condolences to you, Cici, for Frederick. We are both sorry we couldn’t be here for the burial.” She put a hand on her sister’s arm and rubbed gently, flashing a comforting smile.
“And you!” she exclaimed, turning back to Bree and shaking her head. “Just look at you! Queen of Junacave, at such a young age… Why, I couldn’t even hold my wits at your age, let alone…” she trailed off, holding her hands up to signify her loss for words.
“I have plenty of help, here,” Bree replied, patting her mother on the shoulder.
“Yes, you do. And now you have some more,” Celeste said while throwing her arm around Bree and turning so she could hear the noise from the doorway of the hall.
“Now who is this fine piece of man, here?” Celeste jerked her thumb toward the man rolling a large wooden barrel into the hall.
Bree turned her head to see Rowan, straightening up after turning the barrel right-side up. He looked back out of the doorway and called to someone.
“Yes, bring those two in as well. The third is wine, special for the queen, so ease it off the wagon!” Then he heard a loud thump. “Holy hell, you bunch of dolts! I said ease it off, not drop the damn thing!” Shaking his head and wiping the sweat from his brow with his shirt, he turned to see Bree standing with her mother and her mother’s sister. He recognized Celeste from one of her visits long ago, when he was a younger.
“Oh, I beg your pardon, Your Majesty,” Rowan said, stepping forward and bowing to his queen, trying to avoid making eye contact with her. “Queen mother,” he said to Cicilly, bowing again. “Princess Celeste,” he bowed once more, knowing that Celeste was a princess in her own kingdom, who demanded respect of her title. “I am terribly sorry for my choice of words. Please forgive me if I have offended you.”
“Oh, come off it, Rowan!” Bree was practically shouting at him. “You have done a lot more to offend me in the past week than muttering a few obscenities.”
Rowan couldn’t help but smile at her. So she was still upset with him, for disappearing after they arrived last week. He had wanted time to himself, to think. He knew he couldn’t do that with Bree around, so he left the kingdom and stayed in the forest for a few days to find his head and some perspective. It wasn’t until he came back to the village, three days later, that he realized Bree was probably furious with him. After all, he had a habit of disappearing on her.
“Where have you been?” Bree continued. “Everyone has been looking for you. Sidonie was attacked by an assassin who thought she was me—“
“Wait, what? Sidonie was attacked? Are you okay?” He stepped closer to Bree, ignoring the women to either side of her, holding his hands out to touch her, but she backed away.
“I am fine. The map was wrong and he found Sidonie’s room instead. Dagan saved her. Sort of.”
“Bree, you’re not making any sense. What map?”
“Go ask Dagan,” she spat, “since you obviously didn’t want to talk to me!” Bree turned on her heel and stormed out of the hall.
Realizing now that Cicilly and Celeste were there, Rowan began to blush. Cicilly was frowning and shaking her head while she watched Bree flee the room, and Celeste was staring at him with a huge smile on her face. Unsure of what to do now, he gave a nod to the women, bit his lip and walked away.
Celeste turned to her sister, “Cici!! You didn’t tell me that Bree has a man!”
“Well, it’s…” Cicilly began, then found herself unable to describe the situation in few words. “It’s a long story.”
“Hmm. Then it’s a good thing I will be staying for a while,” Celeste took her sister’s arm. “Tell me all about it.”
~*~
The harvest festival was a yearly event, held near the end of autumn. It was to celebrate the season before it turned cold and everything started to die off and the grainery, smoke houses, and cellars were stocked for winter. The hall had been decorated with beautiful garlands made of colorful leaves in gold, red, and yellow, strung about. The long tables had been moved to the outside walls of the hall, leaving a nice sized floor for dancing and entertainment. And a few more tables had been added to the courtyard and terrace to accompany the many guests, their plates filled with breads, cheese, fruit, smoked meat, and pies.
Bree was delighted for the harvest festival, as it was a great distraction for the kingdom, who had been nervous following the assassination attempt. Still, everyone had come to the castle that day, lords and ladies of the village, dressed in their finest. Unlike the winter ball, which had a more limited guest list, the harvest festival was open to many families in Junacave. Occasionally, traveling lords would attend, as well.
This being Bree’s first year hostin
g the event, she wanted it to be perfect. So she had spent the entire week with Finnley, planning every detail, using the festival as a perfect distraction from her troubles. That was until her trouble walked into the hall earlier that day. Now that very same trouble was sitting at a table on the far right side of the room across from Dagan, looking incredibly sexy in his dark brown trousers and ivory shirt, unbuttoned to reveal his perfectly toned chest. His brown hair was mussed from working most of the day, setting the barrels up in the hall. He was drinking what had to be his third, or fourth, mug of ale. Bree had lost count.
Dagan was looking rather special tonight as well, having opted for a set of light blue wizard robes, open like always, over his tunic and trousers. This robe was sleeveless, revealing his arms, with an intricate silver design around the trim and collar. He wore his hair down this evening, too, which was rare, lately.
The two men were quite a pair, opposite in just about every way. Dagan was more refined, always with a clean shave and nice clean clothes. Rowan was more rugged with a stubble on his face occasionally and his clothes were usually torn or faded from working in them though he did clean up quite nicely, as proven this evening.
Sidonie came into the hall then, in a plum colored dress that Cicilly had picked out for her, looking lovely as ever. The lessons were certainly paying off as she blended well among the other ladies in attendance. Looking at her now, Bree would have never guessed Sidonie was a Sabra. She looked like a noblewoman and walked like one, too. The practice with the apples had given her posture a boost, as well as her confidence. Spending so much time with her lately, Bree was really beginning to like Sidonie. Finn had warmed up to Sidonie as well, meeting her at the doorway to escort her to the throne. It was customary for guests to make introductions with the queen before enjoying the night’s activities.
