by RA Lewis
“Come, my King,” Cherise said, holding out a hand to her betrothed. For she knew this was probably the last night she’d get with him for many months to come. He took her hand and together they fell to the sand.
Chapter 9
The day Hakon left, Cherise cried for hours. They had spent the entire night together on those white sands, enjoying each other’s company and talking about their future. They dreamed of the children they would have and the kingdom they would run. They talked of the different laws they would enact and how they would incorporate the Valdir into Ethea. They both so desperately wanted to live in peace.
But instead, here she was, whiling away the hours, waiting for something to happen. She read in the library, and had long discussions with Alexil about politics and governing. She even spent an intense few weeks learning about the Valdir and trying to figure out how she would play a role in their community. There had never been a marriage between a Valdir and an outsider, at least not in any written history that she or Alexil could find. So, their marriage would be a first, it would be historic.
She spent days daydreaming of their wedding, what kinds of flowers there would be and what flavors of cake they would eat. But when all that had been daydreamed about until she was sick with longing, she found herself pacing the hallways, bored and restless.
One day a few months after Hakon left, when the late summer sun was beating down on the castle and on Ravenhelm, a Valdiran messenger arrived. Cherise had sent multiple letters to Hakon, but so far, each one had gone unanswered.
She waited, pacing back and forth in front of her father’s office, wringing her hands and waiting for the messenger to come out. When the door finally opened, she stopped pacing, her heart pounding and her stomach churning in knots. She bit her lip to stop from immediately accosting the young Valdir who exited, but she couldn’t help herself.
“Excuse me, sir. Is there, perhaps, a letter for me? I’m Princess Cherise.” She waited as the young man eyed her.
“Yes, there is in fact.” He dug in his pocket and brought out a small envelope with her name printed on it. He handed it over. Cherise clutched it to her bosom tightly.
“Thank you, sir,” she said quietly. She waited until the young Valdir had turned the corner of the hallways before she tore open the envelope. Inside were three pieces of paper. One was from Hakon and her heart leapt to read his words.
My Dearest Cherise,
I will soon be sending you a gift from Kaya and me. I know you will love it. Thank you for your letters. They have brightened my days here in camp. I leave soon for Askor, but we just managed to free the Cragmeer Mines from Askorian control. Too many died, including Geir’s father, Sci. I’m sorry I haven’t written more. I have been so busy, but you have never been far from my thoughts. Please, think of me, and we will be together again soon.
Yours,
Hakon
It was short, and she couldn’t help but be a little disappointed at its stilted sentences. She read it three times, memorizing it. Every word was like music she could hear in her heart and she gently kissed the paper before folding it back up.
The second letter was from someone named Eira who said she was Hakon’s younger sister.
Dear Cherise,
My name is Eira, and I am Hakon’s younger sister. He has been so busy lately that I knew the only way he’d respond to your letters was if I made him. So I did. You’re welcome.
I also wanted to write and welcome you to our family, no matter how small it is. I hope to one day soon come visit you in the capitol and read in your library. My brother says it is the biggest library he’s ever seen. I am a keeper of stories and records here with the Valdir, and so I’d be interested to get in touch with your head scholar so we may trade information. Would you mind passing my other letter on to him? Open discourse can only make our two peoples stronger, don’t you agree?
I’d love to hear more about you. My brother has told me quite a lot but I’d still like to hear the story from the dragon’s mouth, so to speak.
Your sister,
Eira
The third letter was indeed a missive to the head scholar. Cherise tucked it into the pocket of her dress to give to scholar Alexil later. But for now, she wandered back to her rooms, an inexplicable sadness filling her. She missed Hakon. She missed Kaya. She even missed Geir and the grumpy scowl he always wore. She wondered how she’d ever get through the next few months until she saw him again.
The weather was slowly changing, cooler winds blew down from the north, and each morning the ground in the gardens was crisp with early frost. Cherise was wandering its paths, a light shawl pulled up around her shoulders, hoping the cool air would calm the nausea that had been plaguing her, when her maid, Ellena, appeared on the path ahead. She was running, her slippered feet kicking up gravel as she slid to a stop before Cherise in a very undignified and unladylike manner.
“Whatever is the matter with you, Ellena?” Cherise asked, bewildered. Ellena’s dark hair was unraveling from her tight braid as she huffed and puffed, trying to catch her breath enough to speak.
“There is a delegation just arrived, your Highness,” the woman gasped out, grabbing at a stitch in her side.
“What delegation?”
“From Askor. It includes a Prince. At least, that’s what the other maid said,” Ellena said, trailing off as Cherise began running. There was only one reason a delegation from Askor would even be allowed on Ethean soil.
She raced back to the castle, her guards and Ellena close on her heels. She didn’t stop when she hit the stairs and arrive in the entrance hall just in time to see her father walking up the grand staircase with a young man not much older than she beside him dressed in Askorian colors.
She paused, gasping for breath, her nausea all but forgotten. Her mind raced, wondering how she was going to listen in on their conversation. Then she ran straight for the servants’ stairs, startling two maids as she ran up it, hiking her skirts high and taking the stairs two at a time. Soon she was walking swiftly down a dark hallway, trying to calm her galloping heart.
The servants’ door to the council chambers was only a few feet away and she paused, brushing away the errant curls from her sweating face and trying to compose herself. She needed to be quiet in order to hear anything so she approached the door silently and pressed her ear against it, straining to hear the voices inside.
“Thank you for coming, Prince Terric,” she heard her father say. A Prince. Ellena had been right. Cherise tried in vain to slow her pounding heart.
“It is my pleasure, your Majesty. My father was eager to send me once we'd received your letter.”
“Ahh, yes, my letter. I do wonder what he thought of my proposal?” Her father sounded almost cheerful. Her gut churned with fear and the nausea returned.
“He thought the proposal of a marriage alliance between your daughter and myself a delightful prospect.” The Prince’s voice was slightly nasally like he was just getting over a cold. Cherise didn’t like the sound of it at all.
“And does he accept the terms?”
“Yes, he does. He will cease this war, and give you back your mountains and mines. In exchange, I will marry your daughter, and we will have exclusive trading rights with your country.”
“Exclusive? I will still need to trade with Wostrad and Ablen,” her father began but the Prince cut him off.
“If you want peace with Askor, your Majesty, then there will need to be some sacrifices. We are giving up the mountains. You must give up your trading rights.”
“And my daughter,” she heard her father mumbled. But the Prince didn’t reply. “Fine. Let’s draw up the papers tonight and you can meet my daughter tomorrow.”
“Perfect,” the Prince responded.
Cherise was sick to her stomach now and she raced from the door, running down the servants’ hallways and up another flight, barely making it to her own rooms and her bathing room before vomiting onto the floor. She sat against the
cool stone wall, tears streaming down her face.
Her father had sold her. Sold her like some prized pig to the highest bidder. She realized in dismay that there hadn’t been any papers signed with Hakon. Nothing was made official. Her chest felt like it was caving in, all traces of hope gone.
Ellena came into the bathing chamber to find Cherise slumped against the wall, vomit on her dress. Cherise stirred when Ellena tried to lift her.
“He sold me, Ellena. He sold me to Askor.”
“Shh, hush now. Let’s get you cleaned up,” Ellena said helping her towards the tub and opening the tap to fill it with hot water.
“I have to tell Hakon.”
“And you will. You will write him a letter as soon as you are clean.”
Chapter 10
Snow fell softly outside Ravenhelm castle, covering the castle grounds in a white blanket. Cherise stood at the window looking north towards the Great Grey Mountains, invisible in the falling snow. But she knew they were there, watching over her. She smoothed a hand lovingly over her now bulging belly.
“One day, you will play in that snow, and you’ll be free, little dragon,” she whispered quietly to her belly.
She withdrew a much-folded letter from her dress pocket and opened it, reading for perhaps the hundredth time the words within.
My love,
I am heartbroken. I cannot fathom the sadness and anger you must be feeling. You know I love you with all my heart, but since our betrothal wasn’t official, there is nothing I can do to fight this injustice.
My people are broken and afraid. The mountains are no longer safe for us. What was once our ancestral home has become a barren battleground. We no longer feel safe here, our enemies to the North and Ethea to the south, both laying claim to a wild country that the Valdir have inhabited for centuries. My people deserve freedom. They deserve to rebuild in peace, just as Ethea deserves peace.
We received a summons from your father to attend him at court. Once, we would have responded to the call with Ethea as our ally, but I do not want to be beholden to Ethea any longer. There is no gain for us, especially now that he has broken a promise to my people.
I am leaving and I am taking the Valdir and the dragons with me. We will find someplace safe, someplace to call home, and once we do, I will send you a letter. But until then, my darling, you must do your duty to your people. You must end this war. And you must wear your crown.
Yours forever,
Hakon
The note had arrived with the most beautifully wrought crown she’d ever seen. It was made of a dark iron, and along each delicately carved point were cleverly placed dragon scales in shades of sapphire, the same shade as Kaya. A second smaller note had been folded beneath it.
Dear Cherise,
Please keep this and wear it on the day you are crowned Queen. Although we are far apart, you will forever by my one and only love.
Yours completely,
H.
As it turned out, her nausea hadn’t just been because she’d been sold to Askor that day many months ago. It had been morning sickness. And now, as the Midwinter festival approached, she wandered the castle alone and pregnant. She had never responded to Hakon’s letter. She had never told him of his child. He was a King now, and he had his own people to think of. This child was her responsibility. But she hoped it had his blue eyes and his silver hair.
Her father had made excuses for her, sending Prince Terric home for the winter, and encouraging him to return once the spring had melted the snow. Because by then, she would have given birth. She could then marry the Prince of Askor with no strings attached. She had raged at her father for the betrayal. But he hadn’t listened. He had told her it was her marriage or the loss of the entire kingdom. The end of the war was more important than her happiness.
Now she understood, even if she didn’t wholeheartedly agree. She understood what her father was up against, how the pressure of ending a hundred-year long war had weighed on him. She understood that sometimes one had to sacrifice the few for the betterment of the many. But it had taken her months to figure that out.
Ellena entered the bedroom and saw Cherise standing by the window.
“Is there anything I can get you, your Highness?” she asked coming to drape a warm shawl around Cherise’s shoulders.
“Could you fetch Lord Illeron for me please?” Cherise asked, looking down at her rounded belly. She was still a few months away from giving birth but her pregnancy was unmistakable.
“Of course.”
The door opened a little while later and Cherise turned to see the lanky form of the Spymaster in the doorway. He smiled at her as he entered.
“How are you today, your Highness?” he asked as he took a seat at her small table. Cherise came to join him.
“I’m really well, actually, thank you.” She reached across the table and put a small envelope in front of Lord Illeron. “I heard back from High Father Martin of Hywell Abbey today.”
The Spymaster took the letter and read it before looking back up at her.
“It sounds like good news. What would you like from me?”
“I want you to be the one to take my baby there. I trust you to keep that secret for me.” Lord Illeron had always been kind to her. He’d always given her tidbits of information about the world outside, and he’s always indulged her as a small child. Growing up, he’d been her favorite nobleman, and she’d always looked forward to their talks. If anyone would be able to take her baby and hide it away from prying Askorian eyes, she knew it would be him.
“Me? You want me to take the babe to Hywell?”
“Yes. This child will be my true heir, my firstborn child. It will be a child of the Valdir as well, and therefore different. If Askor gets wind of its existence then I fear what they will do in order to ensure it doesn’t inherit the throne. It is imperative that it be kept safe.” She paused, her eyes filling with tears. “If something should happen to me, should I die, then this child will be next in line for the throne. It will be up to you to retrieve it and put it in its rightful place on the throne of Ethea.”
“How will I prove the babe’s lineage?” he asked, a slight frown on his long face.
“I will have papers drawn up, signed and sealed. You will take them with you to the Abbey and leave them with Father Martin.”
“Of course, your Highness. I would be honored.”
“Good. Then you may go.”
Lord Illeron stood and took her hand, bending low to kiss it. It warmed Cherise slightly, the tears now threatening to spill down her cheeks.
Once she was alone again, she stood and went back to the window, both hands cradling her protruding belly. The tears fell fast and thick now, small sobs shaking her frame.
“I love you, little dragon,” she whispered through her tears.
Continued in The Valdir Chronicles
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Ready for more from RA Lewis? Born of Embers, Book 2 of the Valdir Chronicles is up next.
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About the Author
R.A. Lewis is a fantasy author. She lives in Oregon with her husband, two dogs, three cats, and hundreds of fish. She has two degrees from the University of Oregon in Psychology and Sociology and loves to address mental illness, trauma, and the human experience within her writing. When she’s not pulling her hair out writing, she enjoys reading, daydreaming, spending time with her husband and dogs, watching zombie movies/shows, swimming/working out, and napping.
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