A Crown of Lilies

by Melissa Ragland

  “Your Majesty, if I may,” a familiar voice resonated through the chamber, and I turned to see Reyus stepping forward from the crowd. “House Oristei wishes to vouch for Lady Lazerin and beg for clemency.”

  My eyes widened, fear and anger clawing at my chest. What are you doing? No one else was meant to follow me to the noose. His pale green gaze met mine, his head tilting imperceptibly.

  “The House of Freyja will vouch for the Lady Lazerin,” Brenna’s strong voice called as she shoved her way to the fore.

  “And House Therus,” Leon’s father Ian raised one hand above the crowd.

  Selice eyed them, her tone careful. “On what grounds?”

  Brenna’s boisterousness took the lead. “That she fought for you, Majesty - died for you - and your people.”

  “All of your people, not just her own,” Reyus added. “While those who would call for her head were cowering in the shadows, she stood up before all of Litheria to denounce the priest, knowing full well it would likely mean her death.”

  “Many Alesians, and many who aren’t, are only alive because of her,” Brenna pressed sternly.

  I held my breath, overruled and frozen in place by this last effort for my life. Selice scanned us with the barest trace of hope in her eyes, but she dared not show it. Raising her chin, she addressed the crowd.

  “Does anyone else wish to vouch for this confessed traitor to the Crown?” she asked in her cool tone.

  “House Chamberlain,” a woman’s meek voice spoke up. Amber eyes met mine. “Augustus would have vouched for her.”

  “Aubrey, too,” her pretty young daughter added with certainty. “He always was an excellent judge of character.” She shot Adrian a scathing glare at that last.

  Lord Ignatus drew himself up with dignity, eyeing me. “I have stitched with my own hands the wounds she and her men took in the fight to reclaim your throne, Majesty. House Caerus will stand surety for House Lazerin.”

  Natalia shoved her way to the front. “So will we!” she shouted over the rising murmurs in the crowded hall.

  Her father followed, snatching at her arm, red-faced and furious. “Silence!” he hissed “You do not speak for this family.”

  “I do,” another familiar voice sounded firmly in the din. Adrian stepped forward, eyes fixed on me. “House Van Dryn will vouch for Lady Elivya.”

  The lesser Houses of my own blood called forth their support, along with House Ardontus. The clamor grew and Tommy shoved his way to the front, quickly followed by Izikiel and Valia, who stood for the priesthood. Will and Quintin moved to stand with them, offering what support their mere presence could reinforce. I watched, hugging myself, stricken and trembling as one by one, the blood of Adulil’s Six stood surety for me.

  “House Tuvre as well,” a gruff voice rumbled above the noise. I turned to face Lord Nicholas in his black doublet and thick beard, scowling at me with his arms crossed. “We would not be standing here if she and her men had not taken the gatehouse.”

  The amassed crowd had grown raucous, voices echoing off the high ceiling. Several shouts from the herald returned some semblance of order.

  “It seems, Lady Lazerin, that I am overruled,” Selice said carefully. Even now, she dared not show support, even when every one of the Great and many of the lesser Houses had spoken for me. I had publicly confessed to the assassination of her father. Some lines just could not be crossed. “Your allies have saved your life, but you are still a confessed traitor. In light of your service to this nation and its people, your sentence is commuted to exile.” Drawing herself up, she fixed me with her golden stare and her cool, stern voice. “You and your House are hereby banished from the city of Litheria. Go back to your forests, Lady Lazerin, and do not return until I summon you.”

  I could have thrown my arms around her and kissed her. It was more than I could have ever dared to hope for, a redemption too impossible to credit. My House would endure. I would not hang for my crimes. No one dared celebrate openly, least of all me. I trembled as I curtsied low before her and made my exit, my two companions following close behind. As we left, I heard the herald call a close to the audience and the roar of voices as the Court erupted in fresh gossip.

  Once we’d made our way stoically to our quarters and the latch clicked behind us, I threw myself into Quintin’s arms, laughing in disbelief as he clung to me. Will, I kissed full on the lips and squeezed him until he couldn’t breathe. A discreet knock sounded at the door minutes later and Reyus slipped into the room. I quickly wrapped him in a grateful embrace, which he returned stiffly.

  “I owed your father a debt,” he explained when I finally released him. I raised my brow and he smirked wryly at the memory. “A story for another time, I think. I’m to see you safely from the city.”

  We packed our few belongings into our worn canvas satchels and were escorted quietly out of the palace by Reyus and a handful of Queen’s Guard. In the courtyard, our mounts waited, already saddled and held by a pair of patient attendants. I had hoped for a final visit to my family’s resting place, but with so many eyes watching, I didn’t dare ask. Someday, perhaps I could return. If not, I still carried them with me every day of my life.

  Leaving is never easy, love.

  We made our solemn way through the streets of Litheria and down to the main gate. I had swapped my gown for my breeches and leather breastplate, and not a few eyes stared as we passed. I ignored them pointedly until I heard my name, the voice anonymous in the crowd of faces. Soon, more murmurs and a few bold calls rang out from the common folk. I gripped my reins and braced myself for the shouts of ‘traitor!’, but they never came. Instead, I saw several touch their brows in deference and not a few fists pressed to chests in salute. My name threaded through the din, a hesitant whisper. Mostly, though, they just stared.

  It was late afternoon by the time we reached the main gate, a cluster of riders waiting outside the walls, Tommy among them. Flashing me his sly grin, he and his men milled about as we bid our farewells to Reyus.

  “Take care of her,” I said, clasping his forearm and nodding toward the palace shining above the city. “She needs you now, more than ever.”

  His grip tightened and his pale gaze met mine with determination. “You have my word.” Releasing me, he reached into his vest and drew forth a sealed letter. The wax was plain, the stamp a nondescript courier’s mark. A small smirk curved the corner of his mouth as he handed it to me. “Though I suspect she desires your counsel just as much as mine.”

  I took it from him gingerly, the faint smell of lilies catching my nose. Tucking it away, I thanked him one final time before we parted ways. Tommy eyed me from atop his dun gelding.

  “Ready, lass?”

  “Nearly.” One final task awaited.

  My companions lingered at a polite distance as I walked up to the tree where James lay, the faded scrap of tunic still dangling from the low branch, tattered edges fluttering in the evening breeze. The dry fall grass rustled under my boots as I approached, the length of white silk in my hands. As I knotted it around the proud trunk, I smiled sadly and thought of my oldest friend. Kneeling in the early evening light, I talked to him a while, asking him to look after Valor and the others until I could join them on the far shore. I told him I was sorry and imagined his quick, forgiving smile. I spoke of Leanne’s beauty and how much his son looked like him. I pictured his incredulous laughter as I told him where my heart had finally landed, in the callused hands of a Tuvrian just as stubborn as me.

  Goodbye, James.

  At long last, I stood, my legs and heart aching, and returned to my patient companions. Climbing into the saddle, I gave his resting place one final glance before putting the white city behind me. “Let’s go home.”

  We stayed with Tommy a few days, and over dinner the second night, I learned of their underhanded plot. After a few glasses of wine, it was Will who let slip that they’d no intention of leaving me to hang.

  “Oh, come on,” my young armsman scoff
ed when Tommy and Quintin both shot him withering glares. “What does it matter, now, if she knows?” I eyed them both, silently demanding answers. Tommy threw up one hand in exasperation, relenting, and Will proceeded to tell of their plan to spring me once again from Litheria’s prisons at night. With Tommy’s aid, the three of us would steal from the city, smuggled downriver on a barge and secreted onto a waiting ship in the Bay of Brothers. From there, we would make our way to Elas to start a new life, never to return.

  “And you were complicit in this madness?” I pressed Quintin, disbelief and anger edging my tone.

  He met my gaze with heartrending candor. “I could not bear to lose you again.” My ire fled like so much smoke in a strong breeze. A long silence fell between the four of us.

  “Nor I, lass,” Tommy murmured.

  “None of us, miss,” Will intoned solemnly.

  “I know you have your pride,” Quintin added gently. “But you asked too much, this time.”

  Will raised his eyes to mine. “You would have done the same for any of us.”

  Swallowing my objections, I scanned each of their earnest faces. They would have committed treason to save me. Tommy was prepared to risk all he had worked so hard to rebuild. Will and Quintin would have left everything they knew behind, to keep me from the noose. These three men, my family made new, had seen me through the darkness and pulled me out on the far side. They knew when I needed someone to save me from myself.

  “Thank you,” I said softly.

  In the end, it is the ones we love - the ones who love us best - that make us who we are.

  I paid one of Tommy’s lads to return my bay mare to the Van Dryn manor in Litheria. Natalia would likely have insisted I keep her, but I wanted no debt between our Houses, especially with Adrian at the head of theirs. He had stood surety for me in the throne room, but I wanted that chapter of my life firmly closed. Tommy lent me one of his own horses, with a promise to collect it on his next visit.

  Will, Quintin, and I made good time across the Septim river and the rolling hills and forests of Laezon. Here and there, we spotted clusters of gezgin in their colorful wagons. The villages and farms we passed along the way buzzed with activity, replanted fields nearly ready for harvest. Well-accustomed to traveling light, it took us only three days to reach home. When we emerged from the forest to see the manor in the distance, I finally breathed a sigh of relief.

  An outrider from the garrison announced our arrival to the household. As we drew near the walls, I gaped at the sheer number of new buildings that had sprung up around my home. Those who had chosen to stay had set their roots deep. Sturdy houses and paddocks dotted the patchwork of fields and dirt roads connecting them. Tidy stone walls delineated one plot from the next. Familiar faces turned out to welcome us as we plodded along the path that wound through the new town surrounding my home.

  The gates stood open wide, the courtyard filled with joyful faces. Stephan called for a few hands to take our mounts as I dropped from the saddle. Amita wrapped me in a warm embrace and I asked her to assign Will a permanent room in the house.

  “Of course,” she grinned, jutting her chin at Quintin. “Is he not staying on with us as well?”

  I smiled discreetly and lowered my voice a bit. “He’ll be comfortable enough in my quarters, I think.”

  “Oh,” she replied automatically, and I watched understanding dawn on her face. “Oh!” she exclaimed, flashing me a scandalous grin and waggling one finger at me. It made me laugh, and I caught Quintin’s curious glance as we made our way inside.

  The house felt a bit less empty, filled with familiar faces and staffed with capable members of our newly-sprouted community. I remembered many of them from our long winter in the forest, and those I didn’t recognize, I quickly came to know. Each room of the house held memories, now, instead of ghosts. With Quintin’s presence, my parents’ room began to feel like my own, though he continued to remain distant. We resumed our daily practice in the generous gardens Amita so meticulously maintained, herbs and late-blooming flowers surrounding my family’s Great Oak. I did my best to step into my role as the Lady of Lazerin, tending daily to the concerns of my people and the management of my family’s herds. In time, it began to feel like home again.

  Before the chill of autumn set in, we made a quiet journey to Cambria. There, in the gardens of the Chamberlain estate, I said goodbye to my brave, amber-eyed poet and his boisterous father. With the final strip of silk gauze in hand, I sat in the grass before their family’s Great Oak and spoke to them as I had the rest of my loved ones. To Augustus, I expressed my gratitude for his generosity and kindness and the wealth of knowledge he had gifted to me. To Aubrey, well… those words, I think I will keep to myself. Some grief is not meant to be shared.

  Brenna and her Freyjans stayed with us for nearly a week around the fall equinox. With the castle guard fully restored, they were finally returning home to Frii. Those who could not be accommodated in the house or barracks were welcomed into the nearby homes with a good will. No one had forgotten that they had ridden to our aid when our people needed help the most. We celebrated Samhain in good spirits, throwing open the doors and the larder to whoever wished to join us. The festivities stretched long into the night, and Brenna recited a humbling Freyjan prayer in honor of the dead. Even Quintin drank deep, and his careful wall came down for one ardent night in our shared bed.

  I didn’t press. I understood. As fall gave way to winter, it churned in my head, always present in the back of my mind. One afternoon, as I emerged from the study and stretched my stiff neck, I spotted him reading in the common room. Crossing to him, I tilted my head to read the spine.

  “Kortas?” I startled. He closed the book, one finger holding the page. I caught a glimpse of a map. Furrowing my brow, I straightened.

  His gaze met mine, well-guarded. “Merchants run trade routes from all over the world through their port. Someone is always in need of a good sword.”

  “Planning ahead?” I asked curtly.

  “Have to earn coin somehow. Might as well see the world while I’m at it.”

  Anger crept into my tone, an effort to cover my anguish. “I didn’t realize you were so eager to leave.”

  “I have to go somewhere,” he pointed out carefully.

  “Why?” I demanded.

  He stood, taking a breath, and faced me with his painstaking composure well in hand. “Because eventually you must marry, and I cannot be here when that happens.”

  He left me then, taking his book and disappearing into the house. I stood bereft in the empty common room, sinking onto the couch as my heart bled inside my chest.

  He didn’t come to dinner, nor to our bed that night. I lay in the dark, staring at the empty sheets, and tried to imagine someone else there beside me. Reyus’s son Feran was still unmarried. Lord Ignatus’ son Mateo was kind and meek. Leon’s brothers, Titus and Brandon, were yet unwed.

  I didn’t want any of them. I clutched his pillow against my chest and buried my damp face in the lingering scent of oiled leather and musk and lilies.

  In the morning, I woke in our empty bed and my heart ached anew. Dressing in my sparring gear, I made my way to the frozen garden to find it just as desolate. Angry at his avoidance, I worked through my drills alone, mind churning as I moved through the forms. The sun climbed in the winter sky, my fingers went numb from the cold, and still he did not come.

  Sweaty and heartsore, I went to bathe, hoping he would slip through the door to join me and things might go back to how they were. The water grew cold as I sat alone.

  Dressed in a light wool gown against the winter chill, I swallowed my pride and went to search for the other half of my stubborn heart.

  I found him in the armory, staring at my father’s breastplate on its stand. His back to me, he glanced briefly over his shoulder to acknowledge my arrival as I halted a few paces behind him. I watched as he stood before it, the ghost of my father present in the close air. He had been a proud man
, a good man, a man of honor and duty and fierce loyalty. So, too, was the man who stood before me now.

  “I would see you wear it,” I said gently. He was as much a Lazerin as I, in my heart. I knew my father would have been proud to see him in it.

  “I’m partial to leather, to be honest,” he replied, his voice carefully neutral, but I knew him. I could hear the undertone of deep sorrow beneath his disciplined calm.

  I steeled myself for the ask. “As my husband.” He turned abruptly, and I forced a wry smirk. “If you’d have me.” The hesitation in him threatened to undo me, his head tilting in the beginnings of a protest. “I don’t care what they say you are, or aren’t,” I pressed on resolutely, swallowing the fear in my throat. “You are mine, and I am so desperately, hopelessly yours.” My voice cracked as I shook my head. “I love you, Quintin. I don’t ever want anyone else.”

  A whirlpool of emotion stirred in his blue eyes, his mask long since abandoned. I struggled not to tremble as he took one measured step and then another, crossing the small space between us.

  “Stay with me,” I whispered, my scarred heart laid bare as he lifted one rough hand to my face.

  He tucked an errant lock of hair behind my ear and leaned his forehead down to rest against mine. Taking my hand in his, he pressed my palm against his chest, his heartbeat faint beneath my touch.

  “Stubborn girl.” One callused hand cupped my cheek. “This has always been my home.”

  Epilogue

  10 YEARS LATER

  Again.” Metal clashed and footsteps scuffled on the grass as I made my way out into the garden. My well-worn Freyjan shield glinted in the morning light, the gentle summer breeze rustling my tunic. “Move your feet.” I smiled as they came into view. “Better,” Quintin commended lightly. “Again.”

  I watched from nearby, arms folded across my chest, as Aubrey advanced determinedly on his father. Even at eight, he showed promise with the blade in his hand. After three more engagements, Quintin called an end to it and rustled his dark curls with a smile. Aubrey groaned in protest and batted at the assault. With a roar, my Tuvrian swept him up over his shoulder, small legs dangling as he laughed and shouted.