Daughter of Egypt

by Constance O'Banyon

  Lord Parinez spoke decisively, but the meaning of his words did not penetrate Thalia’s mind. Her heart was drumming so hard, she wondered if anyone other than herself could hear it. She was startled when Lord Parinez removed the small gold circle from her head and replaced it with the heavy crown of jewels.

  Thalia raised her head to look at the people who were strangers to her. Lord Parinez’s voice trembled as he announced: “Your Most High Majesty, Queen Thalia, I give you your subjects. People of Bal Forea, I give you Queen Thalia the Third!”

  That came as a surprise to Thalia—she had not known she was the third queen with the same name.

  The room had been silent while the ceremony was taking place, but the cheers from the crowd now echoed against the high vaulted ceilings in a deafening roar.

  The lord chamberlain spoke on other matters, but Thalia did not hear anything he said. Her gaze frantically swept over the soldiers in uniform until she found Ashtyn. But that was little comfort to her when she saw his grave expression. He looked at her as one would when worshiping a goddess. Sadness struck her heart—she did not want Ashtyn to see her in such a way. She wanted him to think of her not as a queen, but as a woman.

  She tilted her chin upward and stared just above everyone’s head. How she wished she could call back time and walk through her mother’s house, feel the desert wind on her face and live the simple life she loved—a life without war and strife.

  But she could not wish she had never met the man who was standing so near, worshiping her with his eyes.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Thalia felt like an imposter as she waited for the high lords and ladies of the court to swear fealty to her. Ashtyn was the first to approach. He went down on his knees and glanced up at her.

  “As general of your armies, my sword and my life are in your service, Most Glorious Majesty.”

  Although Lord Parinez had explained it to her the day before, Thalia forgot how she was supposed to respond. It seemed every rational thought had gone out of her head. So Thalia nodded at him. “Please stand beside me,” she whispered so only he could hear.

  Ashtyn immediately moved to her left, for the lord chamberlain stood to her right. A long line of joyous nobles came forward one at a time, vowing loyalty. After a while, Thalia imagined herself in her chariot, racing through the streets of Alexandria. The ceremony droned on and on, and she knew she should feel something, but she was numb.

  Thalia felt Ashtyn beside her, and it brought her comfort.

  After a while Lord Parinez solemnly proclaimed there would be no celebration in deference to the king’s illness. He bent to whisper to Thalia: “Majesty, I ask you to come with me to see your grandfather. He will want to hear about the ceremony.”

  “I want Count Ashtyn to accompany us.”

  “Of course, Majesty, but we must go in haste. I was just informed that your grandfather’s health is worse.”

  Fear gripped Thalia, and she found herself running toward the wide double door that led to the corridor. Her guard of honor ran behind her, with Ashtyn at her side. Murmurs filtered through the throne chamber that the queen was hurrying to her grandfather’s deathbed.

  Death was in the air as Thalia knelt at her grandfather’s bedside. Lord Parinez had been right: even as ill as her grandfather was, he insisted on knowing every detail of the ceremony. Thalia told him what she remembered, and Lord Parinez explained the rest.

  The old man smiled and closed his eyes. “The weight of the crown has left my head. May the gods proclaim I was a good king.”

  “You were a great king,” Lord Parinez said in a trembling voice.

  King Melik motioned Ashtyn forward, and the young general dropped to his knees beside Thalia. “Remember what we spoke of before,” he said in a weakened voice. “Stand by your queen and be her strength when she is in need of it.”

  “I shall,” Ashtyn assured him.

  The king fixed his gaze on Thalia. “Be a good and wise queen. I die rejoicing, for I have lived to see one of my blood occupy the throne.”

  Thalia was grief-stricken. Her grandfather looked so gaunt, his eyes sunken, his lips parched—the shadow of death lingered on his face. “I shall try to be a wise queen, Grandfather.”

  “It has been a good day,” he said in a barely audible voice. And with those last words, Thalia’s grandfather died with a peaceful expression on his face.

  Tears of grief blinded Thalia—not so much for the king, but for the grandfather she had never known. She felt a hand on her shoulder, and Ashtyn turned her into his arms. Seeing the stricken expression on his face, she realized he felt the death of his king far deeper than she.

  “I am frightened,” she whispered.

  “Put your trust in Lord Parinez. His wisdom will see you through any trials that come your way.” Ashtyn assured her.

  With a last look at her grandfather, Thalia stood. “Let us leave this room of death. If I am going to do as my grandfather asks, I need time to think and prepare.”

  Ashtyn nodded and led her out of the bedchamber and across the corridor, pushing open the wide double doors. Thalia did not notice the grandness of the room as Ashtyn led her onto a balcony.

  For a long moment she stood gazing at the night sky. “I am lost.”

  “Nay,” he said, placing his hand on her shoulder. “You are queen.”

  “What am I to do?”

  “First you have a king to bury. If I know Lord Parinez, he’s already arranged the rites. But there will be few days for mourning—the war will not wait to bury a king.”

  “Should he not have a glorious funeral?” she asked, thinking of the year-long ceremonies for dead Egyptian royalty and the magnificent pyre where Caesar had been honored.

  “Ordinarily there would be great mourning after the death of a king, but our sadness must be in our hearts.”

  Somehow his words were reassuring. “And will you be at my side?”

  Ashtyn was silent for a moment, his gaze sweeping across her face. “I must soon rejoin my troops.”

  Thalia felt her heart lurch. “When?”

  “Just before dawn.” He watched her face carefully as if he was looking for something in her eyes. “If you have no more use of me.”

  She turned to him, grasping his hand. “But surely you do not need to leave so soon.”

  “If I am going to keep you safely seated on the throne of Bal Forea, I must see an end to this war.”

  There were so many emotions swirling through her mind: grief for the dead king, a country torn apart by war, and Ashtyn leaving her.

  For the first time, she realized he could be killed.

  She might never see him again.

  Without thinking, she reached out and touched his face. “I have come to depend on you.”

  He grasped her hand and raised it to his lips while fire burned in his eyes. “I am yours in all things, Majesty. If you have need of me, you have only to send word, and I shall come to you.”

  “There is something I must say to you.” She reached up and removed the heavy crown from her head and held it reverently in her arms. “Before you leave for battle, would you not like to wed the woman you love?”

  His gaze centered on her lips. “Only if the woman who has my heart wants me for her husband.”

  “You must ask her.” She frowned. “Unless, of course, she has wed someone else. I am sorry my grandfather made it impossible for you to wed her. Know that I release you from the betrothal he forced upon you.”

  Ashtyn then remembered telling Thalia about the young woman he’d been enamored with in his youth. He could hardly remember her face, and he certainly had no feelings for her. He recalled that she had married. “The woman of whom you speak is already a wife.”

  Thalia turned away, glancing down into the overgrown garden. “I am sorry. We are both caught in a trap we did not contrive and cannot escape.”

  “Have you thought that I might not want to be released from my betrothal to you?”

/>   “I have considered that. I have weighed the possibility that you might crave the power that comes with being husband to a queen.”

  Ashtyn pulled back as if she had slapped him, but he took her insult without retaliating. He felt a muscle tighten in his jaw. “How does a mere general ask a queen to be his wife?”

  Her heart drummed and fluttered inside her. “I have no experience in that direction.”

  Ashtyn was silent for a long moment.

  “Lord Parinez told me it would be easier to solidify the island if we wed,” Thalia said nervously.

  “I have been told that as well.” Ashtyn slowly turned her back to face him. “Then I humbly ask, Queen Thalia, will you consider taking me for your husband?”

  Her throat closed, and her eyes burned with unshed tears. “I have come to realize that a queen must make many sacrifices for her people. Since it is in their best interest that we wed, I agree to become your wife.”

  Ashtyn released her hand abruptly and stepped away. “I am overwhelmed by the honor,” he said, in a voice that belied his words.

  She wanted him to pull her into his arms and declare an undying passion for her. But Lord Ashtyn was a man of honor and truth and would not act against his conscience. “It somehow feels wrong to celebrate a marriage with my grandfather hardly cold, but Lord Parinez advised me to marry as soon as possible. I thought tomorrow.”

  “I obey you in this, as in all things, Majesty,” Ashtyn said stiffly.

  Thalia slowly nodded. “Then make it so.” She glanced out at the glorious sunset, thinking that her grandfather did not live to see the end of the day he had so long awaited. “I wish my family could be here at this time.”

  “You are queen now. You can send a messenger to inform your family of what has occurred and invite them to come to you.”

  Her heart suddenly lightened, for she had still thought of herself as a captive. “Is that possible?”

  “You are queen. All Bal Forea awaits your slightest command.”

  She lowered her head, and her body trembled as she sobbed. Ashtyn gathered her in his arms, and she cried on his shoulder. She felt his lips touch her forehead and was comforted.

  Trying to lighten the mood, for he could not bear her tears, Ashtyn said, “It never occurred to me that when I asked a woman to marry me, it would send her into tears. Is it so difficult for you to think of me as your husband?”

  Her lips trembled, and she wiped her tears. “I would not want you to think of me as a real … wife.”

  Anger flared within Ashtyn. “Are you saying I should not expect to share your bed?”

  “Grandfather was insistent that there be a child from our union. I know we will have to …” As hard as she tried to hold back her tears, they now ran down her face. “Forgive me. This is the hardest day of my life.”

  “I know it is,” he said gently, his anger melting. “I should leave you so you can rest.”

  “How can I rest knowing I must become a bride with such haste?”

  Ashtyn’s laughter startled her, and she looked at him questioningly.

  “Your first edict as queen is to marry. If only your haste was brought on by the desire to be in my arms.”

  She glanced quickly at his face, but he was smiling, and she decided he was merely jesting. Still, warmth spread through her. Oh, how she wanted to lie in his arms—but would Ashtyn be thinking of another woman on their wedding night?

  “I would ask you to leave me now, so I can spend time with my grandfather before they prepare him for burial.”

  Ashtyn bowed to her. “As you will.”

  After he left, Thalia walked back across the corridor to her grandfather’s bedchamber. Several people had gathered about his bed, their heads bent, their faces streaked with tears. When they saw Thalia, they bowed and moved away so she could go to her grandfather.

  Going down on her knees, Thalia took a hand that was still warm and lowered her head. “Grandfather,” she whispered, “I am trying to follow your instructions. I pray the gods take you safely in their arms, and may those same gods stand beside me to guide my footsteps in a way that would make you proud.”

  She remained there for a long time, trying to untangle her feelings. At last she became aware that the others were waiting at a respectable distance, so she stood. Her gaze met the lord chamberlain’s. “Lord Parinez, will you accompany me? I have questions. I want you to send your most trusted courier to Egypt with messages for my family and Queen Cleopatra.” Thalia watched his face, fearing he would refuse, but he nodded, following her to the door.

  “If you will prepare the documents, Majesty, I will see this done at once. We have a small swift ship, the War Hawk, that can be outfitted within hours and ready to sail with the morning tide.”

  Relief poured though her. Her family would soon know where she was and that she was unharmed. “Then let it be done.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  In deference to her grandfather’s death, Thalia decided on a private marriage ceremony. But it seemed a queen had little privacy when it came to matters that concerned Bal Forea. Lord Parinez had explained to her that the marriage must be witnessed by high-ranking lords and ladies.

  Thalia had lain awake most of the night, feeling as if her life had spun out of control. She longed for her mother to direct and guide her though these turbulent times when so much was expected of her.

  But in the end, she must stand alone.

  Thalia felt her body tremble when she swept across the chamber to stand at the dais where Ashtyn waited for her. He looked magnificent in gold and black armor, his long dark hair falling across his shoulders, his silver-blue eyes fastened on her. He stepped to her side, his features immobile, his eyes hooded.

  Words were exchanged, and Thalia mourned on the inside, wishing her marriage was uniting two hearts seeking love, rather than serving political necessity. Her hand trembled in Ashtyn’s firm grip. He seemed to be avoiding her eyes.

  He was doing his duty, as was she.

  * * *

  They came to the part of the ceremony where Ashtyn went down on his knees. When he turned his face up to Thalia, he was swamped with so many emotions, he could not sort through them. As he took her hand, he was aware, as the others were not, what she was sacrificing for them. He felt pride in how regally she held her head, never letting those present know she was frightened. Sunlight streamed through the high window, falling on her loosened hair, whose color rivaled the golden crown that was set atop her head. Her shimmering purple gown was adorned with the black hawk of Bal Forea.

  “Queen Thalia,” Ashtyn recited the age-old words that had united royal Bal Foreans in marriage for hundreds of years. “I, Count Ashtyn of the house of Tyran, do take into my keeping Your Majesty’s safety, and pledge to protect the realm of Bal Forea. If blood is to be shed, let it be mine.” He touched his lips to the royal seal that now graced her finger. “I am yours until death takes me. This I swear.”

  He felt her fingers tighten on his, and she spoke unhesitatingly. “I, Queen Thalia the Third of the royal house of Forea, take you, Count Ashtyn, as my husband. In so doing, I appoint you second only to me in the house of Forea and all my realm.”

  Thalia reached for the crown that Lord Parinez held out to her. Meeting Ashtyn’s gaze, she placed the golden circle on his head. “Only my crown places me above you, Ashtyn of the house of Forea, and Prince of Bal Forea.”

  Ashtyn stood and stepped up to the second step of the dais, while Thalia stood on the top step. With hands clasped, they faced the lords and ladies, who all swept into a low bow.

  “Thus unites the House of Tyran to the House of Forea,” Lord Parinez proclaimed.

  Thalia stood stiffly, wondering why she felt nothing inside. She had just become Ashtyn’s wife, and he her husband—surely that should have stirred some emotion inside her. Her gaze swept across the faces in the crowd as she wondered if one of those brightly dressed women could be the one Ashtyn loved. Perhaps her new husband had
sacrificed more than she should have asked of him.

  Lord Parinez concluded the ceremony. “There will be no festivity, and Her Majesty has asked that instead you give alms to those in need, and let it be done in the name of King Melik. Go now and celebrate this day in your hearts, for the house of Forea still stands, though it is mourning.”

  When the chamber was cleared of wedding guests, Thalia seated herself on the throne since her legs were too shaky to bear her weight. “It is done,” she said, looking at her new husband, who stood so solemn and grave. He had not moved from the second step.

  “Aye. It is done,” he agreed.

  Thalia glanced at the lord chamberlain questioningly. “Have I fulfilled all my grandfather required of me, Lord Parinez?”

  The kindly old man dipped his head to her. “You have done much, but not all. There must be a child so the throne will be secure.”

  Thalia’s face reddened, and Ashtyn held his hand out to her. “I believe the queen is weary and in need of rest.”

  “Aye,” Lord Parinez agreed, suddenly looking weary himself.

  Thalia realized the honorable old lord had lost a king he loved, and his grief still showed in his eyes. “How goes the loading of the War Hawk, Lord Parinez? Will it be ready to sail on the tide?”

  “Aye, Majesty. All is as you ordered.”

  Thalia allowed Ashtyn to help her down the steps, and he accompanied her from the chamber. As they moved down the corridor, five guards fell in behind them.

  Thalia arched a brow at Ashtyn. “Will there be guards wherever we go?” she asked in frustration, taking quick steps to stay even with Ashtyn’s long stride.

  He hesitated only a moment before he answered, “There will be for you. You must know that you will be in danger until we crush the rebels. These are my most trusted men, specially trained by Captain Darius. They will see to your safety at all times.”

  She sighed. “Life as I once knew it is no more.”

  He nodded. “For either of us.” He paused a moment before he said, “If you will forgive me, I need to send Captain Darius with a message to the front lines. I was expected there today.”