Warprize

“Oh, yes, Your Majesty. She’ll be so happy.” The girl hiked up her skirts and took off.

“Wait!” I called after her. She turned, still moving backwards. “Please ask Othur to join me there?”

“Oh, aye, I’ll tell him you want him.” She called over her shoulder. “Aye!”

“Make sure you say please!”

I heard her faint ‘Aye’ as I turned to my guards and looked them over. The younger one shifted uncomfortably. The older one gave me a patient look. “Your Majesty, Lord Marshall Warren’s orders are that you are to be protected at all times. Him and the Warlord’s orders.” sighed, but knew this was a lost cause. I nodded to the guards, and started down the corridor.

Scrubbed clean, and with fresh clothes, I sat at the huge table near the hearth in the kitchen, with hot soup and bread before me. The soup was thick with chunks of meat and potatoes. The bread was warm, and A

My two guards were at the kitchen door, far enough for privacy’s sake. Othur sat opposite me, nursing an ale. “Might as well, Lara. She won’t rest until you do.”

I pulled the bowl close, hoping that the warm food would ease the pounding in my head. I craved a mug of kavage, but knew better than to ask for it. Besides, it wouldn’t taste the same without—

I cut that thought off, and dug into the food.

“I can drizzle the bread with some honey.” A

“No, A

A

The bread tasted wonderful, and I dipped a piece in the soup as A

“She doesn’t want the crown.” Othur rumbled.

“What?”

“Othur,” I pleaded. “You’ve been the seneschal for years, under my father. Can you honestly say it’s in the best interest of the kingdom for me to rule?”

Othur frowned. “You are a Daughter of Xy. Your duty requires you to rule your kingdom and rule it well, Xylara. That is what your father would expect of you. Regardless of your personal desires.”

“Othur, I never wanted to be queen. I don’t have the skills to be queen. My dream was having a school of healing, not to—”

“The events of the last month have frightened the people. They need stability, reassurance that all will be well.” Othur’s eyes drilled into me. “Your presence on the throne will comfort them. You can learn the skills necessary, given time.”

“Anything less is a betrayal of your father and your father’s father.” Othur stood, pushing his stool back. “ I’ll hear no more of this, My Queen.” With that, he walked out of the kitchen.

A

I sighed, and ate more soup.

I left A

I hated to admit it, even to myself, but Othur was right. Father had always said that the price of privilege was responsibility. Like it or not, I was Heir to the Throne of Xy. I had an obligation, one that I could not avoid or ignore or pass to someone else.

The scent of roses grew as I got closer to the briar. Apparently A

I knew little of politics, little of diplomacy, and the thousand other things one needed to be queen. Maybe Keir’s people had a better way, one that depended on proven abilities rather than birth. One thing was certain, at least to me. I’d be an inept ruler. And if I did take the throne, it was highly unlikely that I’d be able to tend a sick person ever again. As warprize, I’d be able to, even encouraged to heal, maybe teach.

I jerked to a stop and stopped breathing. For here in the dimness of the garden, where shadows hid me from prying eyes, I faced the truth.

I wanted Keir.

I wanted Keir more than I wanted to make the sick well, or pass on my skills to others. I wanted Keir more than I wanted to sit on the Throne of Xy and ward my people. I wanted his strength, his touch, his sly sense of humor, his honor and his passion.

I stroked the flower against my warm cheek, feeling the velvet of the petals. Days? Had it only been days? Does the heart count days, or even hours?

I moved over to one of the stone benches, and slumped down. I sounded like one of those horrid old ballads, sung by minstrels to lovesick court maidens with empty heads. Part of me was ashamed to face the truth. A true Daughter of Xy would put aside her desires and serve her people.

With Keir beside me, that service was one that would fill my days with joy and purpose.

Without him, it felt like a cold and joyless burden.

If I’d thought my options limited with Xymund alive, they seemed even more confining now that he was dead. Being the warprize might be a risk, but it held out opportunities I’d never dreamed of.

Keir had made his decision, for reasons I didn’t fully understand. Clearly, A

There had to be a way.

A

“Little healer!” Simus’s voice boomed out, and I turned to behold him standing there, hands on hips. My smile and laugh burst out spontaneously. He was a vision, dressed in a flowing shirt of white, black trous, a belt of red and a bright blue vest. I’d never seen him in other than armor. His left ear was pierced with five gold hoops of varying sizes, and they glittered every time he moved his head. He gri

“Beyond your wildest expectations.” I chuckled. “Their eyes will pop out of their heads like marbles.”

Simus drew himself up proudly, then made a sweeping bow. “Welcome to my chambers, Your Majesty.” His Xyian was carefully pronounced. “How may I assist you?”

“Simus, I want to ask your advice about something.”

He looked at me carefully, growing serious, and reverted to the language of his people. “I can’t promise to assist you, Your Majesty. The Warlord has made his wishes known, and I am bound to obey him.”

I rubbed my sweaty palms on my dress, trying to remain calm and controlled. “Simus, I don’t understand. Why is he doing this?”

Simus shrugged. “What’s to understand? Does one understand the wind or predict the flame?” Simus gestured me to a chair. “There are things you do not know, little healer. Being warprize carries its own dangers. The warrior-priests and the elders will fight Keir tooth and nail over this, and you’d be in the center.”