Blind to Men

by Chris Lange

  He let her caress her own body without a sound. She liked the touch of his hands on her bosom as much as the texture of his vital fluid on her skin. But she enjoyed his declaration even more.

  "I love you, Anya."

  Chapter Fifteen

  "Wake up!"

  The sharp order seemed to come from the bottom of her brain. Although a misty coat prevented her from moving her lids, she remembered they'd been cold at some point during the night.

  They had hastily pulled their clothes on before falling asleep again in each other’s arms. She still felt tired now. She wished the commanding voice would go away and let her sleep in her protector’s embrace.

  "Wake up!"

  Sleep at last drifted away while a natural instinct to obey seized her. When she sensed Kylor’s heat abruptly leaving her, she opened her eyes to the sight of him, head bowed, fist on his heart.

  "Your Majesty."

  King Harfayn stood by the bed, brow furrowed, apparently displeased to have found them lying together. Daylight had come, streams of sunshine pouring in the keep from the high windows.

  No endless night, no destroyed world. So much for the prediction, she thought with joy and gratefulness to the creators. She'd never believed the mighty gods capable of striking their own creatures.

  In her heart, she had trusted the wizard’s opinion on the prediction and hadn’t expected anything else. But it was time to get up now. She flattened her dress and faced her scowling king.

  "Good morning, Father."

  "Come with me, child."

  She wasn't surprised to see that, like the previous evening, his authoritative tone matched the coldness in his eyes.

  "Come, for this day shall see your restoration."

  Still uninformed about her father’s intentions, she was reluctant to leave her guardian alone in the keep.

  "What about Kylor?"

  "He stays here for now. But I shan’t take any action on that matter today, so you needn’t worry."

  She glanced at her beloved. He looked at her with a light smile on his lips and a glitter in his blue eyes.

  "Go with our king, my lady. Fulfill your destiny."

  The vibrant kindness in his tone caused her to bite back tears. Although she still felt like protesting, she had no doubt that Kylor and King Harfayn were right. Today was summer solstice and she had to confront the people of Palance in order to regain her birthright.

  "Very well."

  The monarch strode to the door, hardly waiting for his daughter to catch up. The guards locked the door behind them and they went down the same winding steps she'd climbed the night before. Apart from servants scurrying along the hallways, the castle was quiet at this early time.

  Having reached the main floor, the sovereign of Palance took her straight to the west wing of the fortress, into what appeared to be royal apartments. She glimpsed several big rooms through open doors but they remained in the first one they entered.

  She discovered large, beautiful tapestries on the walls as she studied the place, an enormous fireplace to keep the chill out, adorned furniture and, at the back of a smaller chamber, a four poster bed surrounded by heavy curtains.

  Observing her surroundings, she marveled at the richness displayed in these rooms. They had absolutely nothing in common with her small stark corner, back at the farm.

  She touched an exquisite figurine on the mantel of the fireplace with careful fingers, wishing her mother was here to see such beauty. But she would probably refuse to set foot in a sovereign's private domain.

  "Your apartments are certainly fit for a great king."

  Her father already sat on a plush armchair. His eyebrows quirked in surprise and he gestured for her to sit down. Apparently, he had decided they were going to have a talk.

  "We are in your apartments, Anya, not mine."

  She swallowed to keep her mouth from hanging. Trying to mask her astonishment, she stayed silent.

  "These chambers have always been meant for my daughter, the princess of Palance."

  Flabbergasted, she realized her mistake. Although she believed him when he assured her that she was his daughter, she hadn’t yet reflected on the consequences of her new position in the city.

  Because her mother had been born a peasant, she, Anya, would never be more than a half-blood. One foot in a castle, the other in a farm. Somehow, viewing herself as a direct descendant of the great kings of old bordered on cheating. And that was when a new consideration struck her.

  Her father wanted punishment by death for Kylor, yet he was forgetting that he committed adultery. Even if he hadn’t deflowered her mother, he had been unfaithful to his queen.

  That distasteful and unfair behavior certainly deserved punishment too. The monarch represented integrity and equity, so how did he have the nerve to pass judgment on others when he was a sinner himself?

  What kind of justice did he serve? Not much more than his own as far as she could see. Rebelled at the notion, she jumped to her feet and pointed a righteous finger at her father.

  "I can't believe this. It's your intention to kill my protector for a fault that saved my life, yet you—"

  She took a deep breath to dislodge the lump in her throat. Eyes brimming with zeal, she accused him.

  "You sinned!"

  The king's brow creased with furrowed lines as he appeared to think hard on her statement.

  "Anya, what are you talking about?"

  "I stand here today because you mated with Mother. You were unfaithful to your queen."

  First, he gaped at her. Then he burst into laughter, hands on his stomach, shoulders trembling from the force of his chortling. Standing proud before him, she suddenly felt foolish.

  She hadn’t known this severe man could smile, much less roar with laughter. But what was he so joyful about? What had she said to ignite this impulsive hilarity? Flustered, she tried to put a stop to his merriment.

  "Are you making fun of me, Father?"

  "Nay."

  He didn't manage to utter anything else as his stocky body rattled along with peals of laughter.

  "By the mighty gods, I—"

  He was obviously striving to regain his formal composure, yet she had to wait until his mirth abated a little.

  "I have not laughed so hard since I was a boy."

  "I’m glad I could be of service, Father."

  Kylor often chuckled at the innocence of her spontaneous comments, especially when she believed him to be a woman. Yet he had never taken her for a fool, and she didn't mind entertaining him. Not so with the king.

  The man's hilarity grated on her nerves. He claimed to be her father but he deliberately set to wound her pride with his immature behavior. When his amusement receded, she twisted her lips.

  "And when you feel up to it, you might be inclined to tell me what it is you find so funny."

  "I have not sinned, daughter."

  He inhaled deeply while dabbing the pads of his fingers around the corners of his eyes.

  "Your mother is the Queen of Palance."

  What? Her mother was the queen? The woman who had always worked in the fields, milked the cows and chopped wood to keep them warm in winter? That was impossible. Queens simply didn’t do that unless… Unless acting as a real farmer had been the only way to ensure her daughter’s safety.

  "This is inconceivable."

  She slumped back on the armchair. Her father's hilarity flew out of her mind as she began muttering.

  "I’ve always been told about the queen and her Amazons. I figured she lived in Palance with you. Why have I been lied to all my life?"

  "You have not been lied to, child, but the curse prevented you to hear such words as 'men' or 'king'."

  He looked at her as though she might break. Despite the carefulness with which he chose his words, she refrained from shivering as he launched into the explanation she'd been waiting for.

  Chapter Sixteen

  "Your mother wished an ordinary childhood for you,
without any disturbances from the outside world. Keeping you alive and away from the witch’s clutches was a priority."

  Melisande again, the woman who had striven to ruin her life. When would that accursed sorceress leave her be? There was no point in chewing over old matters best buried, and her attention went back to her father as he added as an afterthought.

  "If you wish so, I can take you to the Amazons."

  She wished, but not right now. First, she needed to hear about the ruler of Palance and the extent of his involvement.

  "What about you, Father? Didn’t you have a say?"

  All traces of laughter gone from his stern face, looking like his usual commanding self, the king exhaled.

  "I respected my queen’s wishes. If she felt she had to disappear with you to keep you safe, so it had to be. I wanted to visit you from time to time, but she forbade it, and that is why we meet only today. I have ruled over my kingdom without her by my side."

  He seemed to falter as he straightened up in his seat before wiping his brow with a sad gesture.

  "I have not seen my lady for eighteen springs."

  Something in the tone of his voice disconcerted her, implying she might have misjudged her father. She thought him heartless, yet when talking about his queen, he sounded hurt and at a loss.

  "Have you missed her?"

  "Every day, but the past must be forgotten. At midday, I shall formally introduce you to court and present you to your subjects."

  He ran a hand through his grey, thinning hair, a new determination hardening his features.

  "The curse is broken. I want them all to see for themselves that the terrible prediction was naught but the witch’s whims."

  She hoped he'd be right. Having known fear for the past few days, she didn’t want anybody to live that way. She fervently wished the people of Palance would learn the truth and obtain some measure of peace.

  "Do you know where the witch is?"

  "Melisande failed in her attempt to steal you from us, as Kylor no doubt informed you. She vanished that very day. I hope she died, but in any case, she won’t dare show her face today."

  "If she’s alive, she could still ask for a sacrifice."

  The king shook his head, his confident bearing and positive tone exuding certainty.

  "Summer solstice is upon us, yet the sun is bright and shining. My people already understand the prediction was false. Such a request would be pointless as you’re no longer a maiden. The witch has lost."

  The conversation was taking a different turn. Now that she saw her father in a new light, she decided to use the moment to inquire about what was first and foremost in her mind.

  "Father, are you angry I was deflowered?"

  "Aye, Daughter."

  His gaze reverted to coldness. Though she feared another outburst of rage, he merely squared his shoulders.

  "But solely because a dutiful father is always concerned about his children’s fate. I know it was the only way to break the curse, but noble blood it should have been. Still, none of what occurred is your fault."

  His intentions remained unclear in spite of his outward calm. She pressed her hands on the wooden arms of the chair.

  "Are you saying you won’t pass sentence on my protector?"

  "That, I am not saying."

  Shifting from the responsible father to the unchallenged monarch in the blink of an eye, King Harfayn's tone could have cut ice.

  "Though he isn't of noble descend, I highly regard that young man. But he has broken a law and will be punished. Even if Kylor's act is praiseworthy, I cannot make an exception for him."

  "Why not? You can do whatever you want."

  He observed her with an unusual expression that, in the name of the creators, she had no desire to identify.

  "You're so young, Anya, so naive in your assessment of the world. You cannot pretend to understand the intricate workings of being a ruler. In thirty years' time, maybe you'll begin to realize I was acting for the good of my people and of my territories. For now, suffice to say that if my queen was present, she would agree with my decision."

  How did he not see the faithful and honorable man Kylor was? How could her begetter be so unfair? So set in tradition as to become blind and deaf to common sense and justice? Irritated by his unshakable stubbornness, she stood up briskly, her frustration blatant.

  "No, Father. When I left for Palance, Mother told me to do whatever Kylor asked of me. She gave me her blessing."

  Heedless of his duties and position in the Four Kingdoms, she braced herself and resumed her plea.

  "I've heeded my mother’s words and now you are telling me I shouldn’t have? No, Father, Kylor hasn’t committed any offense or any crime. Whatever your judgment, I'll stand by my protector and my queen."

  Before King Harfayn could react, she strode to the door and held it open to see him out. He got up without another word. As he walked toward her, his formal tone rooted her to the threshold.

  "An official dress will be brought to you before midday. Be in readiness when the time comes."

  She closed the door behind him, heart beating fast, stomach knotted with an uneasy pressure at confronting the king. Her father turned out to be a difficult man, by any means, but she'd never cease fighting for her beliefs. After his departure, she ran to the window.

  From there, she could see the main wing of the fortified stronghold. Servants were assembling a dais in front of the entrance, probably for the king’s speech. Around the top of the castle, she admired the battlement with merlons and crenels, the keep soaring to the sky.

  Kylor was locked up there, alone. If she knew him at all, he was wondering about her and what the future held for her. She opened the window and craned her neck to look at the vast courtyard leading down to the gateway, flanked by strong towers on both sides of a drawbridge.

  Down below, past the gate towers, she saw the inner and outer city of Palance. A powerful desire to walk its streets swept her. She wanted to lay eyes on its houses and general architecture, to touch its strong walls, speak to its people, and blend in its embrace.

  Apart from riders and eventual visitors, she guessed the castle courtyard wasn’t a usual place for people to gather. This day was uncommon though, a symbol for the people, a long-awaited summer solstice that might still lead her toward freedom or death.

  Heralds marched the streets all morning, escorted by men at arms and trumpets, loudly announcing a royal proclamation at midday. Little by little, adults and children followed them back to the castle, their growing numbers soon cramming the courtyard.

  She didn't think the place would be big enough to welcome them all. Although vast, it wasn't structured to receive the whole city and the last dwellers had to stand on the drawbridge.

  They were well over two thousand strong, give or take a few hundreds. Their chattering filled the air with anticipation, their excitement rising as the sun reached its peak. She closed the window when a servant brought her garment, yet she could still hear them.

  The dress belonged to the marvels of the Four Kingdoms. Having never worn anything of the kind, she donned it with reverence, the long beautiful fabric flowing smoothly around her body. A maid brushed and pinned her hair in an elegant bun, leaving curly strands around her face.

  Observing her reflection in the mirror, she wondered whether this pristine white gown was meant as a reminder of her ingenuousness. She looked younger than her eighteen springs, innocent and pure.

  A knock on the door shattered her musings, and she joined her father in the hallway. Dressed in rich dark green, a long white cape thrown over his shoulders, a thick gold necklace across his chest and a broad sword strapped to his side, King Harfayn represented majesty.

  Hard feelings or not, she was going to accompany him in the best possible manner. She allowed him to escort her to the main wing, her hand on his extended arm. Surrounded by a dozen guards wearing ceremonial garb, King Harfayn and Princess Anya of Palance made their entrance.
r />   Chapter Seventeen

  The royal court waited for them in the reception hall. Standing in line, noble men and women bowed to them with reverence before following in their wake. She spotted Xandor in their midst just as the wizard winked at her. No doubt friendly, his gesture nevertheless reminded her of Kylor locked up in the keep. A prisoner in his own city.

  Unaccustomed to such grandeur, she tightened her grip on her father’s arm, awe and fright threatening to overwhelm her. She took reassurance in the smile he bestowed on her. At the main doors opening onto the dais and the courtyard, he whispered to her.

  "Stay by the door until I call you."

  She nodded but he must have perceived her abrupt bout of shyness for he squeezed her hand.

  "Just wait for my signal to join me. You are a brave girl, Anya. You will make a great princess."

  He left her to climb the three steps of the platform rising above the level of his expectant subjects. Heavily guarded on all sides, the dais and the soldiers around it blocked views of the crowd.

  Without little else to do until her father called for her, she settled for watching his straight back. She had experienced extraordinary moments since leaving the farm but nothing prepared her for the clamor that followed the king's apparition. Gooseflesh rose on every inch of her skin when the constant noise of the crowd rose to shouts and cheers as he came into their sight.

  She heard loud salutations whizzing from all sides, the great sovereign being greeted with enthusiastic "Hail, O King!" and "May the mighty gods bless our monarch!" Wishing she could observe as well as listen, she twisted her neck right and left but without much result.

  The noble men and women standing behind her had now all been ushered outside through side doors. She felt alone as the few guards remaining in the vast hall offered protection but not support.

  Engulfed in the applause and eager acclamations of his subjects, the king offered them his august presence for a while before acknowledging the plaudits of the crowd. He raised his arms. Cheers lessened to a drone, quickly coming to a lull to allow him to speak.