Chapter 62

This chapter has been copied from the original and may contain typos and grammatical errors.

~*~

“My king, we haven’t prepared for the princess’s return,” the Duchess considered. “Where will we house her?”

“There’s her mother’s room; we could have it decorated for a princess. After so long apart, I think I want her close at hand where I can feel she’s safe,” the king said, rubbing his chin.

The Duchess thought for a moment. “What about the former queen’s chambers? Surely the heir to the throne should have her own rooms, not that simple room at the end of your hall. She’ll rule the kingdom one day; she should be able to stretch her legs, feel important. And it’s been 20 years. That space is going to waste. I never was a fan of the style, either. Why your parents thought an exotic princess was going to make a good queen, I’ll never know,” she trailed off.

The king nodded. “Yes, I see what you mean. Rosa’s rooms have been untouched for too long, and they have a lovely view of the sea. We must remodel them immediately!”

The Duchess smiled and patted his hand. “That’s the fire I love to see.”

~*~

As they sailed across the water to the palace, Gloria had to focus on her breathing. The capitol had been like nothing she’d ever seen with its tall buildings and thousands of people. The smell had been horrific with human and animal waste lining the streets. She couldn't imagine what it would be like in the summer when the sun and heat amplified the smells. Without spellcasters to charm plumbing, the waste built up. This is what the Islands could be like without us, Gloria thought. How are they so against spellcasters? We can aid in so many things.

Gloria didn’t like the seer. Illia had been sweet, and she had no evidence of ill-will, but there was something… Blake tried to sit away from her. She wore revealing clothing for the conservative area, not caring who saw her. Spellcasters were persecuted here, but why wasn’t she afraid? She had Blake on her side, of course, but even in the capitol there were still supporters of the Church. They weren’t safe, especially with Gloria’s power restricted.

But Illia’s power wasn’t restricted. What were her intentions? Gloria couldn’t read her with the bracelet and necklace on. Why did Blake not want to meet her eye?

This island was even bigger than the island she and Seneca had lived on. It rivaled the largest of the Western Islands, and rose out of the water with hard rock ledges with few beaches. It was no wonder they had chosen this place to build the palace; it was beyond easy to defend.

And hard to flee from. Was it any wonder that her parents had waited to get away from here and into the wilderness to make their escape?

“It’s just a short walk up to the palace, not far. Takes about 15 minutes.” Blake assured Gloria. He looked at Illia, “Have you decided on your payment? I can fetch it for you while you wait at the pier,” he said sourly.

“No, I think I’ll come in with you. It’s been a very long time since I saw the Palace, I want to see how it’s different,” she smiled, but Blake bristled.

“Perhaps we could set you up in one of the little cabins the staff use while you decide,” he offered.

Illia tilted her head to the side. “No, I’ll join you in the palace. I’m sure there’s enough room.”

Gloria’s eyebrows drew together. This was odd behavior. How did this woman have so much influence over Blake?

“I haven’t been home in three years. I don’t know how much space there is. Not that you need space. You have your cabin on command.”

“But the palace,” Illia purred, “That’s a different type of luxury. Besides, I’d love to surprise the king.”

The walk up to the palace was lined with guards holding torches. The setting sun was casting long shadows, though it was hardly dinner time. The days were getting so short. How did anyone like living here with the dark and cold?

As they entered two gilded doors shinier than anything Gloria had ever seen, she was amazed at the glittering wallpaper the color of copper. There were large fires burning in bowls helping to heat the tall room and to provide more light.

To greet them a woman with impeccable dress and hair stood beside a man with a crown sitting low on his head, as if it were just a bit too large for him. His face was lined with age and his hair was grey as ash. The woman was obviously Blake’s mother, so this must be… the king.

Gloria’s heartbeat hit a bit harder. He- he looked like a man. Put in simple clothes, he could have been anyone. She didn’t look like him at all! Where had Blake gotten that idea from? Where had they all gotten this idea from?

“Lucian, welcome home,” the woman cooed, a smile on her lips. She looked friendly enough… “And if my eyes don’t deceive me, you must be the heir, Gloria. You look just like your mother,”

“I hear that a lot,” Gloria responded cordially with a smile.

The king said nothing, instead just looking at Illia as if he had seen a ghost. “It’s- It’s been some time, Illia,” he said, squaring his shoulders to the best of his ability. He shot a look at Blake, then looked back to her. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Darling Lucian asked for my help in finding the heir, and I’m here to claim my price. Try not to worry,” she said as she walked past him without being invited in.

Gloria raised her eyebrows at that. Who was this woman?

Blake’s mother approached Gloria. “I’ll show you to your rooms. I’m sure you’ll want to change out of those travelling clothes, and we’ve prepared some clothes for you. When we’re done I’ll show you around, and then we’ll have dinner!”

“That sounds nice,” Gloria agreed, following her.

~*~

The king slammed his office door closed, nearly catching Blake’s holey sweater in it. “What were you thinking, asking for the help of a seer?!” he shouted.

Blake was taken aback. “I thought that none of the people I was questioning were giving up enough information for me to find Gloria and I needed more help. I know that it’s a bit unorthodox to get help from a seer, but-”

“Then you push further!” the king pounded the desh with his fist. “You cause more pain! You make them more afraid! You make them want to tell you because then they may get mercy! Do you know why you never go to a spellcaster for help? Because all of the spellcasters that remain on the mainland are not afraid. They’re either clever enough, powerful enough, or mad enough to think that we won’t be able to affect them. Illia is one of those who is a potent mixture of all three, and you let her in our front door!”

“All we need to do is pay her,” Blake to reason.

“With what? Has she named her price? What if it’s my daughter’s first born child? What if it’s yours?” he asked.

“I-... what?” Blake wasn’t quite sure what understood what the king meant.

“I know how that woman works. She asked you for your hair, coaxed you into her bed, all for the ‘good of the mission’. She nearly got my father with that trick, nearly razed the monarchy to the ground. I didn’t give her any of my hair, so she couldn't control me, but my father was under her thumb for a few years, all because he didn’t want to lose the war to the south. He won the war, but he nearly died because of it. I got my first wife out of that arrangement, then I sided with the Church to drive out those heretics from our borders,” he took a shaky breath, “And you let the worst one right back in!”

Blake looked at the wall ahead of him, trying to be the good soldier he had been raised to be. “My king, if I had known I never would have done such a thing. I’m sorry.” He paused. “I have something that may make it up to you. I captured a prisoner who was there with Gloria when we found her. The seer thinks he’s important to something, but she refuses to say what it is. Let me make it up to you and find out what he knows.”

The king looked at him over his shoulder. “Very well. You will be responsible for anything that happens with the seer.” He turned and looked at him properly. “Clean yourself up. We’ll be eating dinner in an hour.”

~*~

Sitting down to eat, Gloria wanted to rub her scalp. Her hair had been parted, brushed, pulled, braided, pinned, and spritzed with something to make it stiff. She had to wear a corset which wouldn’t be uncomfortable if she didn’t have it pulled so tight and didn’t have to sit down, and they had picked out a white and red dress for her to wear. She was going to stain this in minutes…

They sat in silence for a few minutes, no one having anything to say. Gloria wondered what people of the court even talked about. Breaking the silence felt like it was against the rules.

“So, tell us of the south, Lucian. What ‘s it like down in the wilds?” The king asked as he bit into his food.

“They lean on the Church heavily, and the Templars roam freely, making whatever judgment they wish that fits their agenda. If it were up to me, I’d say that they’re due for a visit from our military to put them in line,” Blake reported.

“But the people I met were kind, just trying to get by. Perhaps if we show them kindness and mercy, help them along, they would want to join us instead of the Church,” Gloria interjected.

The king laughed. “Being kind and showing mercy will make them think I’ve grown soft with age and we’ve gone weak and our cause is inferior. No, we’ll send a platoon of our best men to show them our strength and that they should fear us over the church.”

“But if you do that, you’ll only push them further away!” Gloria interjected. “If we can show them that we’re the better option than the Church - if we send them food, or support them, anything to help - they’ll see reason and join us. They're just tired people looking for hope.”

“They’ll see reason at the end of a sword!” the king boomed as his fist pounded the table. ”Burnt fields will teach them to not form against the crown, and they’ll not stray for a long time after!”

Gloria flinched, averting her eyes. The king softened.

“My rose, there’s so much you don’t understand. So many facets to the problem. I can tell that you’re tired. Think nothing of it. I’ll talk to Lucian about it and it’ll get sorted out.”

Gloria turned her gaze to her plate of perfect food. They didn’t believe she had a brain. That she couldn't think. That her opinion didn’t matter.

But then, she didn’t know much about the situation. She was embarrassingly under-educated on the topic. Maybe he was right. What was the history behind the conflict? Had they rebelled before? Had they tried peace only to have it fail?

They finished the meal quietly, talking about which soldiers to send, what had happened in the three years since Blake had been gone, how much gold they had in the treasury, all things that Gloria should have paid attention to, but she felt… hollow. She had gotten used to being able to read things, to sense what was happening instead of just being able to see it. She had almost been able to walk around the little house with her eyes closed after she had the bracelet and necklace taken off the first time. Now she felt like a doll, a piece of wood that had been carved to look like her, unable to feel anything.

“I think I’ll go to bed,” she said as she finished her meal. “I can find my way. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

They didn’t have much staff for such a large house. While she was happy that she didn’t have to act above anyone else, she was also confused by it. There were guards everywhere outside, so maybe all of the budget went to them?

Gloria peeled off her dress as she entered her bedroom, unlacing her corset just enough to wiggle out of it, and kicking off her shoes. Blake’s mother would be mortified at the mess.

The room was foreign to her, with the white marble turning burnt gold and flickering in the candlelight. Had she been scared when the house burned? She looked at the candle with no fear; if anything she was more frightened by the shadows cast than the flame providing light.

“It won’t make much difference once my eyes are closed,” she tried to assure herself. “Best to just go to sleep and look at it all with fresh eyes tomorrow…”

As she went to pull back the bed covers, there was a knock on her door. “I told them I was going to bed…” she grumbled. “Come in!”

The door opened, and one of the king’s golden guards stepped in, covered from head to toe in plate mail. I don’t know how they could possibly be able to see where they’re going… Gloria thought.

“Can I help you with something, sir?” she asked.

The guard didn’t move for a moment, then slowly removed his helmet. Out from under it sprung the never messy hair of her godfather, Romeo.

“Pops!” she jumped and grabbed hold of him. “What are you doing here? How did you get here? Why aren’t you at home?” she asked.

“We were worried about you, squirt. Your mom, dad, and I came here to get you home. We’re on the island, and we need to get you out of here. Not tonight, but hopefully soon. Montoya, the head of the guard, you can trust him. He’s an old- well I’m not sure if I can call him a friend. I don’t think I would invite him over for dinner, but he’s trustworthy. He helped get your father out of prison and he kept their affair hidden. He’ll let us know what the plan is, he’ll tell you too. We’ll communicate through him, ok?”

Gloria tilted her head. “What do you mean dad was in prison?” she asked.

“What- you- oh no one told you that part,” Romeo looked dejected. “You remember how when you were really really little your parents got married? They got married then because your father was here, in the palace, being interrogated by the king himself to find out where your mother was. He was here for months. That’s where he got the scars on his back.” Romeo tried to make these events sound like they were butterflies, light and airy and not as terrifying as they actually were.

“The king did that to dad?” Gloria asked, horrified.

“You don’t even want to know what he did to your mom…” Romeo grumbled.

“I thought- I thought for a moment that maybe he wasn’t as bad as everyone said he was. That he was misunderstood. That I could maybe play this game of his, but… Pops, I met the true heir to the throne. The queen before my mother had a son by the king, but he died in a fire recently,” Gloria’s felt her nose tingle, and she knew she was going to start crying. Why did she have to be so weak? Why couldn't’ she face facts like they were, flat and plain? Why did they hurt so much?

“I have a feeling there’s a lot to tell each other. I have all night, munchkin, let’s talk.”

A few extra pictures: