Welcome! Thank you for visiting and giving my novel a chance. To the left of the screen you will find thumbnails, which when clicked will load that Act of the novel. The Silver Sea is split into four acts, three of which are complete with the final act still in production. The acts are numbered in the same order in which they should be read, and are 25,000 to 30,000 words in length a piece. Each is likely too long to be completed within a single sitting, depending on your personal reading habits.
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Ch. 01 Ch. 02Ch. 03Ch. 04Ch. 05Ch. 06
I do not know if I like this place. It has many wonders, but there are many more things here that I could do without. The greatest is that it’s cold all the time! At least back home you could escape the cold by lasting until morning when the sun rises, but here the cold just stays all the time. It never leaves! I’m told that it gets even colder in the winter, but I do not know what this winter is, and I hope to never know it!
And then half of all Radiah’s water seems to fall from the sky! It was such a wonderful spectacle when I first saw the clouds darken, and then watched as the first drops of it fell. And it was not just a little bit falling like spit from the mouth. No, for many hours on end the water fell until the ground at my feet turned to mud and slush. And it just didn’t stop, and the earth beneath our feet remained soggy for days, slowing us down no matter how much we hurried.
I did not expect to see such things when I left Atina Nah.
My guides, the traders that come from the distant lands to the east, have been trying to teach me more of their language. I’ll need it when I arrive, so that I can try to speak to them with their words using my voice. I know I can’t do it alone; I simply cannot learn so much so soon. I have brought companions with me who have learned much more than I have, and together we hope to put our words into theirs.
Their language is soft and strange, and their people may be small and frail, but they have a power that we do not. They call it steel. Harder than rock, but it can be shaped like glass into whatever you desire. And they have so much of it! They eat with it, they cook with it, they make all manner of things with steel! And their weapons and armor are all forged from it!
Atina Nah does not have steel, as it is a land of sand and stone. Both we and our enemies use tools and weapons made of stone, bone, and what little wood there is, as those are the paltry gifts Atina Nah has given us to wage war amongst ourselves.
If we had steel of our own, then that would settle things.
Yvvie thinks I’m mad for taking this journey, but I do not think we can take Anya Sur as things are now. The pillar is too fortified, and our own numbers are growing thinner and weaker with every battle. Some of our allies are beginning to falter with doubt. I believe her when she says that we will win and put things right. I do believe her.
But faith alone can only carry you so far in the desert, and Atina Nah cares not about our struggles. Whatever future we have we must create for ourselves, and so here I sit in this wagon of wood, watching as sand turns to dirt, and the picti into trees. Soon, I will have to try and convince the people of Radiah that they must help us. I do not know what they will want in return, as we have so very little to offer them.
I won’t just be asking for their steel, but for them to teach us how to use it. I will be asking far too much of them as a stranger, and if they in turn demand a terrible price for what I ask, then I may have no choice but to pay it.
I hope she does nothing foolish while I am gone, as I am fool enough. Our ambition cannot survive two.
Today marked the end of his first journey beyond the borders of his homeland, the Kingdom of Radiah. It was far behind him now, with its warm summers and cold winters, its vast tracks of green forests and fertile farmland. Now, all around him, lay an endless desert. The Kingdom of Atina Nah was dry throughout the year, never seeing a drop of rain, or so he’d been often told. Its days were blisteringly hot, and its nights were as frigid as any Radian winter.
Never before had Waylen Sundile needed to travel with clothing fit for both summer and winter weather. Never had he had to worry so much about staying in the shade while also keeping close to a fire. If it weren’t for the constant care he received, he feared he might just catch an illness from the turbulent weather he suffered. Already, some of his party appeared to be beaten down by the journey and were fighting what might have been a light illness from the nightly chill.
They’d all left home nearly a month and half ago. If it weren’t for the extensive preparations made for their journey it would have taken as much as two months to travel such a great distance by horse and carriage. There were simply too many people to move and with far too much luggage and supplies.
All along their path to the desert, new horses and supplies had been prepared beforehand. As their horses grew too tired to continue, they were left in the care of handlers who’d ridden ahead of them days before they had, so that their weary animals could be traded for fresh ones. Each day saw them waking at dawn and traveling as far as their horses could be made to tolerate, stopping only to break bread for a noon meal or to let everyone have a chance to take care of any business they needed doing.
Once the grasslands and forests had begun to fade, it was slowly replaced by barren stretches of dry earth and sand. Waylen did not know that the land beneath his feet could change so much in what felt like so little time. The world was as vast as his books and tutors had taught him; he just didn’t realize it was closer to him than he’d been led to believe. Once it became necessary to abandon their horses altogether, as they were apparently ill-suited to the sand and climate, they traded their animals away for camels instead, an ugly and smelly version of their equine relations. These animals were better suited to the desert and had been provided for them by a caravan of merchants who were traveling alongside them to their shared destination, both as companions and guides.
A shared destination that had been staring down at them for the last several days as they drew ever closer.
The peak of Anya Sur had broken above the horizon a long while ago. Anya Sur was both a city, the heart of Atina Nah, and it was also a massive pillar of rock. It was a formation of raw earth that stood tall like a mountain, but its sides were sheer like a castle’s wall. Waylen was only now seeing it for the first time, the stories having done everything they could to describe it to him but failing at the same time. To wake up every day and see such a monolith was strange. The mountains nearest to Radiah were very far away and were always a pale grey triangle that the clouds often hid.
But Anya Sur was always there towering with a background of a brilliant blue sky that was seldom seen with clouds. It was omnipresent, always looming over the desert. He doubted you could go anywhere in the desert and not see some part of it peaking over the horizon, letting you know that it was watching you.
“Your Highness, we should change your shoes for the saddle." His elderly companion broke the silence of their cramped carriage.
He was riding alongside two other men. The first was Shane, and older man who had taught Waylen much during his eighteen years of life. He was serving Waylen now as both steward and advisor. Of the many wise men in his household, Shane was the one most well versed in the language of Atina Nah and would be a valuable asset in helping Waylen navigate their language and culture. Along with him was Codi, a young man just barely escaped from boyhood, who was acting as his squire.
“Right." Waylen replied.
Codi began to retrieve a pair of riding boots from the luggage, and over the course of the next few minutes Waylen was laced up properly for his feet to be stirrups. Over the last week of travel, he’d ridden on multiple camels as a part of his training. They were similar to horses, but the saddles were shaped strangely, and it took getting used to. He wanted to ride into the city, and to look confident while doing so.
As the city ahead of grew closer, so close now that the great wall that protected it was plainly visible, he felt his heart quicken. They’d arrive within a few hours, sometime after noon by the sun’s estimate, and he could feel his anxiousness grow so much that he needed to calm himself with slow breaths.
After a while, he gave the order to Captain Landon to bring the caravan to a stop so that he could mount a camel. Shane accompanied him out of the carriage, Waylen testing his feet on the sand before making his move to a camel that had been brought for him. The Captain helped him mount the animal, who then quickly mounted his own steed so that he could ride alongside him.
The Captain was a middle-aged man of great experience and was in command of the several guards that had been brought with them for his protection. Waylen’s party numbered twenty people, a combination of servant and soldier alike. As per his mother’s instruction, the group covered a wide range of specialties to match whatever needs Waylen might have.
“Your Highness, we will be at the gate within the hour, by my guess." The Captain told him, and he nodded.
“Your Highness, when we arrive at the southern gate, I would expect us to be greeted by a dragon that speaks our language, but would you like me to ride alongside you should you be met by their native tongue?" Shane asked him from the ground.
Waylen paused. After a moment of consideration, he shook his head.
“No, they know we are coming. They would not send someone to greet us that couldn’t do so in Radian." He replied.
Shane nodded in agreement, then took his leave with Codi so they could climb back into the carriage. Once everyone was back in their saddles; or in their carriages, Waylen gave the caravan permission to resume course.
Now that Waylen was again in a saddle, he had the freedom to look all around him. The desert of Atina Nah was often flat with the occasional rolling hills of sand, called dunes, that the caravan had to carefully avoid or else their carriages would get stuck in the deep, loose sand that the dunes were made of. They had to travel around them by sticking to the flat regions, which were only covered in a thinner coat of sand with wide patches of dry packed earth between them. All the while, the horizon was dotted with pillars of rock of differing height and width, but none were as impressive as the behemoth that was their destination.
But it was more than just distant rock surrounding them. At a great distance around them, were riders on camel back. Each animal was saddled with a dragon, the strange people that called this land their home. They were easy to spot, as the armor they wore glittered under the sunlight. The riders had first appeared after their first few days in the desert, with only a single rider among them daring to approach. Shane had spoken to this one, the older man reporting to Waylen that the dragon was a soldier of Her Majesty’s army and that his caravan was now under their protection as they made their way to Any Sur. They’d been following the caravan ever since, coming and going along the horizon like a predator might stalk its prey.
Waylen looked out at them, and then up at the sun that was now cooking him with its heat.
It was bad enough to sit in the shade. To sit under the sun was to sweat like a cloud would shed rain. He pulled a handkerchief from his tunic and drew it across his forehead. He’d only been in the sun for a few minutes and his face was already breaking out with dew, but one look at Captain Landon informed him that it would only get worse. The man next to him rode in a saddle for most of their journey, and his skin was already a shade darker from what it had been in Radiah.
As Waylen rode alongside the Captain, the city ahead of loomed all the larger. All he could see was the wall, massive in size and appearing as if they’d been cast from a solid piece of stone. It was far taller than the walls he’d often seen dotting the landscape of Radiah, which were often made of brick or cobblestone.
He had no idea of what awaited him on the other side of the wall. His home city of Illian, the capital of Radiah, was far larger than Anya Sur, but Illian was not so tightly contained within a single ringed wall. It was a place that sprawled out in all directions with many gaps in between making room for ponds, farmland, and streams. The city of Anya Sur must be either very small by comparison, or very dense. He did not know which, but he soon would.
It had been more than twenty years since someone of Radian royalty, or even nobility, had personally visited Anya Sur. Most people from Radiah came to the desert as merchants or tradesmen. The peasantry likely had more hands-on knowledge of this distant city than Waylen did, or even Shane behind him in the carriage.
Shane understood their language and understood enough of the inner workings of the city to act as a translator and guide, but twenty years was still a long time. He hoped Shane’s knowledge would prove as useful as he’d been promised.
When they finally reached the southern gate, they were met with a wall of dragons guarding it. The riders stalking them were now far behind them, dotting the horizon like a line of glittering fence posts. He did not get the best view of the dragon Shane had spoken to after they’d entered Atina Nah, but now he had a good view of a large group of them standing at attention.
They each had the shape of a man. They had his arms and legs, their trunks with a head sitting atop a pair of familiar looking shoulders. What made them foreign was their faces, their skulls long like a lizard’s with dangerous looking eyes. Their whip-like tails stretched out behind them on the sand. Dragons seldom came to Radiah, as he’d been told they do not take well to the weather of his homeland, so Waylen had seen very few of them in his life and what ones he did were always from a great distance. He had been a child the last time a dragon had come, and he had been too young at the time to be allowed to join in any matters of state.
The leader of the caravan had been riding ahead of them at the very front, and he’d given the call for everyone to stop and was audibly beckoning Waylen and the Captain to ride forward to join him. Waylen dug his heels into the sides of the camel and started off at a trot with the Captain in tow. They came to a stop next to the caravan leader, who was flanked by a pair of other men who were a part of the merchant’s own party of travelers.
“Your Highness, the gates are normally open." The leader of the caravan, who was an older man that was allegedly Shane’s junior in age, but he looked far older from how weathered and textured the desert had left his complexion. The caravan Waylen’s party had ridden with lived their lives coming and going through the desert trading goods back and forth between Radiah and Atina Nah.
“Are we expected to request entry?" He asked the man.
The leader looked to him, his face wrinkled and darkened from sun and age, replied first with his eyes. They had the look of apology in them.
“I do not know. The gates are normally open." He repeated himself.
Waylen turned to look to the Captain, who was now frowning. The group of them were at the very front of their procession of more than a dozen carriages, half of which were the merchant’s own and visibly laden with goods for sale and trade. One could not sneak up on a city with a group so large.
To their front, the noise of wood grinding could then be heard. There was a loud knock, and then the gates began to swing open. The gate’s wooden doors were massive, and very heavy, so they moved slowly as they swung out. The dragons in front of them stood still as the doors opened, and as the crack between the doors widened Waylen began to see the city beyond it.
The narrow view revealed a dense sprawl of stone buildings, each sun-bleached to an almost white appearance. In the middle were row upon row of soldiers in full plate armor. A shiver went up his spine as his eyes quickly counted the many suits of armor until he began to lose count after fifty. There were ten outside the gates and dozens more inside.
“Your Highness." Captain Landon asked for his attention.
He turned, carefully looking toward the other man’s direction. Their eyes met, and for a brief moment Waylen thought he could see a similar emotion in the Captain’s eyes as he’d felt himself.
Worry.
“They’re open now!" The man to his other side said aloud.
Waylen glanced towards the leader of the caravan and saw that he did not appear to be worried at all but was actually relieved that the gates were indeed open. His concern had evaporated the moment the doorway to trade had been opened.
The rows of soldiers across the gate’s threshold began to move. Waylen watched as they each drew their right arm over their chest, then clapped their fist against their chest plate. The clap of metal, all in unison, was thunderous even at this distance and he suppressed the temptation to jump with surprise.
“What course of action is appropriate for the occasion, Captain?" He asked aloud, keeping his eyes forward.
“Wait, Your Highness. They are putting on a show." He replied.
He nodded, and so they waited. The rows of soldiers then broke rank and began to march off to either side, in equal numbers, until all that was left were two figures standing in the middle of the road. The pair, clad as heavily in plate as all the rest, began to walk towards them. Waylen’s camel snorted, and he tugged at the reigns gently to settle the animal. When the pair were within speaking distance he began to stare them down.
Both dragons wore polished steel, and underneath it was fabric and leather dyed a deep red. The two came to a stop at the same time, lifting their arms over their chest and clapping their armor at him in salute.
Waylen then lifted his own hand, balling it into a fist to tap his knuckles against his opposite shoulder. To his right the Captain was doing the same while the men from the caravan all bowed their heads while performing crude imitations of a Radian salute.
Both dragons then lowered their arms, and the one standing to Waylen’s right side took a step forward to separate itself from their companion.
“You stand at the gate of Anya Sur." The dragon spoke in poor Radian, their voice deep, and with an accent so thick that it was difficult to understand.
Waylen studied the dragon closely. He’d never been so close to a dragon before. Even with the dragons riding in the distance around him, he’d never gotten a chance to see them up close. The one standing in front of him now had dark skin, gray like a piece of shale stone. He did not know how to read its expression, and even struggled to know with confidence if he was looking at a man or a woman.
The dragon was tall, taller than the one behind him, and both of them had the twin sets of horns he’d been told they all had. Both also had heads full of white hair, which was another thing all dragons were supposed to have. Waylen had to be looking at one of their men. The dragon had spoken with too deep of a voice, and his features appeared too masculine, his shoulder broad and with a lack of breasts. A single scar was on the side of his face, and that was certainly something you’d never see on a woman.
The old man to his left looked very nervous and cast a glance towards Waylen. If the gates were normally open, then clearly it was customary to simply approach the city and enter. A similar practice was done in Illian. No one stopped merchants from coming and going unless they’d been given reason to.
But Waylen was no merchant, and the Captain was right. The dragons were putting on a show.
“I am His Royal Highness, Waylen Sundile. I have come from the Kingdom of Radiah at the request of my father, King Rylan Sundile, to attend the Festival of Founding." Waylen announced himself, speaking with as much authority as he could muster, his heart beginning to pound in his chest.
As he spoke, he could just barely see in his periphery that the Captain was sitting up straighter in his saddle. Waylen did the same, projecting as much confidence as he could while he stared down at the dragon in front of him. The dragon in turn stared back up at him with a gaze white hot. It did not appear that he was scowling, but his eyes were a rich shade of orange that seemed to glitter angrily from the sunlight overhead.
“Anya Sur welcomes you, Your Highness." The dragon finally replied after a long moment.
“Thank you, it has been a long journey to get here, and the walls of your city are a welcome sight for the weary." Waylen continued, hoping to hasten their entry into the city.
With the sun baring down on them he did not want to linger outside any longer than necessary, and seeing buildings just within the walls of the city was making his legs itch to find shelter in something that wasn’t a carriage. For six weeks he had to ride in a bumpy carriage or walk across course earth to stretch his legs. Everyone behind him had suffered the same and was in great need of a proper rest.
The dragon snorted in reply, which nearly caused Waylen’s expression to break and give way to confusion. He kept his poise and narrowed his gaze in reply as the dragon began to speak again in his thick accent.
“Anya Sur did not build walls for the weary. Her Majesty built them to punish all who stood against her." Came the reply, Waylen being forced to pause as the dragon’s thick accent dulled his delivery.
As the meaning of the dragon’s words rolled over Waylen, a shiver went up his spine as alarm threatened to sound inside him. Next to him both men shifted uneasily.
“A Prince of Radiah comes to her as a friend. To whom am I speaking? What is your name?" Waylen demanded, keeping his back straight and speaking again with authority to whoever this dragon was.
Behind the dragon, the other one began to shift uneasily where they stood, staring at Waylen with red eyes framed by a face of ashy red skin. His instinct was telling him that this one was a woman, and the longer he looked at her the more certain of that he became. The dragons were strange in appearance to him, but the softness of her face, and the shape of her chest and hips left too little room for doubt.
“I am Commander Roc Er Fel’Noy. I serve Her Majesty Yvvie Fah Roh’Sah as Commander Beyond the Wall." The dragon answered him.
The other dragon then moved at last, taking a step forward. As she took that first step, Waylen watched her raise her hand for another salute, though gently this time with hardly a clack sounding. Her red eyes did not glitter like the others did, but her gaze was just as strong and set firmly on Waylen as he stared back at her. He tried to match them both, challenge against challenge, and prayed he would not fail.
“Her Majesty welcomes you with open arms, Your Highness." The second dragon spoke up, her Radian as poor as her companion’s, but her accent was not so thick.
The tenor of her voice was deeper than he’d expect from a woman, but it was still clearly feminine, so there was no doubt to what she was.
“And you are?" He asked her.
“I am Commander Nell Fah Sol’Nu, Her Majesty’s Eye of the Watch. Together, I and Commander Roc serve Her Majesty as two of her three Commanders. We lead her armies under the direction of Her Royal Highness Princess Vienna Fah Ro’Un." She replied, revealing her name, as well as her and her companion’s place within Her Majesty’s court.
She also spoke much better Radian than Commander Fel’Noy, now that she’d spoken so much more of it for him to judge, but her accent was still thick, and it made difficult to catch her every word well. Despite it, he still understood her well enough to understand.
“Very well. If we are welcome, then let us enter your city so that we may finally rest. Our journey has been long and arduous." Waylen commanded, or so he thought.
He was being greeted by two members of the Queen’s army, and high ranked ones at that. He knew only bits of pieces of how the army of Atina Nah was arranged. There was a pitifully small amount known of it in Radiah despite the many decades of kinship the kingdoms had shared. Their kingdoms were not so close together, and it was rare that they fought alongside one another.
Commander Sol’Nu did not speak, but she clapped her arm over her chest again, and that was quickly followed in kind by Commander Fel’Noy.
Waylen watched as the two dragons spoke to each other in their native tongue in low voices until Commander Fel’Noy made an ugly expression with his face. The dragon turned to Waylen, clapped his arm over his chest in salute once more, then pivoted in the sand to march himself back the way he’d come.
“Your Highness, I will lead you and your companions into the city. With your permission, I will then have you leave your camel behind. We have better carriages in the city." She told him.
He looked to Captain Landon, who nodded, then turned back to look at the Commander.
“Lead the way, Commander Sol’Nu." He told her and gestured with his hand towards the city.
The dragon nodded once, then pivoted on her heel and began to march towards the now open gate, and Waylen took up the reigns and dug his heels. The camel snorted and began to obey, marching him forward with the Captain soon joining him while the leader of the caravan began to shout backwards towards the carriages and camels behind them.
At last, they’d finally reach the city of Anya Sur.
Soon after passing through the gates, Commander Sol’Nu encouraged him to give up his camel, which he was eager to do. Horses were leagues above these animals, and Waylen was grateful to be out of its uncomfortable saddle.
Now that he was back on his feet and standing on solid ground, he was amazed at the number of buildings he saw. Only in the densest parts of the Illian were buildings so close together, and that was quite rare. The stonework of Anya Sur was simple but refined. Nothing appeared to be crooked or lopsided, the sun-bleached stone was cut cleanly and sanded smooth. Had they been built from wood Waylen would have expected to see them shine with a well sanded polish.
They were still surrounded by dragons in heavy armor, the Commander giving orders in her native tongue as a new carriage was brought to them from down the long road that led to the giant rock that was the true Anya Sur. The massive pillar was intimidating in its size, almost as intimidating as the dragons were. It strained his neck to look at its highest point.
The dragons were also very tall, now that Waylen was no longer saddled on a large animal. Even the woman Commander was taller than him, and Waylen was not short of stature!
Captain Landon was taller still than him, but with quick glances Waylen could see that many of the dragons around them bested them both in height. He’d been told that dragons were very tall, but no one had put enough care into their descriptions to make it clear just how tall they truly were.
“Your Highness, your carriage. You will be taken to the Keep. Someone will be waiting to take you into their care." The Commander told him, and then clapped a salute over her chest before gesturing with a hand for him to approach the newly arrived carriage.
“The rest of my group will follow?" He asked.
“Yes, Your Highness." She replied, bowing her head.
He nodded to her, then thanked the Commander before stepping up into the carriage at last. It had clearly been built for dragons, as the first step was very high, and then the gap between the ceiling and his head was much wider than he was prepared for.
Captain Landon joined him, and they sat alone as a dragon shut the door for them.
“Your Highness, I feel that you performed your duty better than they did." The Captain broke the silence.
“Why is that?" He asked.
“The one that sounded like a man needs to be cuffed for how he spoke to you, Commander or not. The woman at least understood her place." The Captain replied.
“She was more polite." Waylen agreed.
The carriage then began to move, and quickly. The road they traveled on was coated in thin layers of sand but was quite smooth otherwise. The ride to the Keep was not so turbulent as the one they’d enjoyed on their way here, which was a blessing.
“I wager that Shane is quite flustered with his decision not to press himself to your side." The Captain added a few minutes into the ride.
“I’d imagine so." Waylen smiled as he lifted a hand to the door to touch his fingers to the narrow slats in the small windowpane.
It had no glass, but the slats spun on a dowel. He pushed and opened the slats while he leaned forward to peek outside. His eyes scanned the road, seeing what looked like a large marketplace packed dense with stone buildings. There were countless booths and tables covered with brightly colored fabric awnings. Even the busiest of Illian marketplaces paled in comparison to the vast arrangement of storefronts that Anya Sur seemed to possess. The tables and booths were stocked full of goods, both edible and otherwise. Every manner of thing seemed to be sold here, just like the vibrant marketplaces of Illian but on a larger scale.
Except something was amiss.
“The city is empty." He pointed out to the Captain.
Soon as he’d said it, the Captain was pushing open the slats on his side of the carriage. Everything was in its proper place for a marketplace, except for its people. There should have been hundreds of people milling about such a place. There should have been the noise of countless merchants and traders trying to sell you everything, including your own trousers.
“I only see soldiers, guards. Nothing else, Your Highness." He replied.
That was true. The market was empty of people, but there were indeed dragons in full armor. He started scanning the buildings for windows, seeing that many of them were shut with wooden covers or fabric curtains. It was eerie seeing no peasantry or hearing the noise of a busy road full of people hawking their wares.
He’d traveled the roads of Illian many times and the noise of life was hard to miss.
“Would you say this is them putting on a show?" Waylen asked.
“I would not know what kind of show this is, Your Highness." He replied.
Waylen pushed the slats back into place and put his back to the seat. He tried to think if his father had ever emptied out a road before. He came up with nothing, but he he’d only come into his own manhood within the last few years, so he knew little of what his father did and didn’t do when he had still been a boy.
“Has my father ever cleared the roads of Illian before?" He asked.
“Not that I know of. Perhaps your grandfather before him did. Shane would know such things." The Captain replied.
Waylen nodded in agreement. He didn’t know if it was something to worry himself with, but the empty market was an off-putting thing to see. They continued their ride in silence until finally the carriage came to a stop. There were voices outside speaking in that same foreign tongue. He knew that there were men in Radiah that could speak it, but apart from Shane, he’d scarcely heard it himself. It was rough sounding, strange. The sound of it left the speaker sounding angry as they spoke.
A knock arrived at both sides of the carriage, and then the doors were opened for them. A dragon in armor stood to greet Waylen on his side, silently offering a salute while stepping aside to hold the door open for his exit. Waylen carefully stepped down to the ground, blinking the sunlight away. The rest of his group had been following them close behind, and the caravan of merchants were missing, probably back where they’d come from and hoping to do the business they’d come here for.
Captain Landon quickly arrived at his side while Waylen looked around them to see where they were. Back down the way they’d come; the rest of their party were being drawn to a stop. Ahead of them was Anya Sur, taller now than before, and down at its feet was another wall, though much smaller than the first.
And in front of that wall was another of the dragon’s shows. Several dozen dragons in polished armor all stood silently at attention. They formed two even rows that funneled the eye to the wooden doors that would give entry to whatever lied beyond them. These doors were open, unlike the ones at the southern gate, and walking towards them now were two figures.
One was a soldier, and the other was a slender figure wearing a white robe that fluttered about their feet as they walked. The outfit was remarkably plain, broken in color only by a wide belt around their waist and a red cloth draped around their neck.
Everyone behind him was being instructed by Shane to exit their carriages, and it sounded like he was trying to speak to the dragons in their foreign tongue.
Waylen continued to wait with the Captain at his side until the two figures arrived. The one in armor was Commander Sol’Nu. The slender one was new, any very clearly a man despite what he was wearing. The slender dragon wore his hair long, letting it drape down his back as a woman might her own, and his skin was a shade of light gray like you’d find in the pale ash of a stove.
“Your Highness, Prince Waylen, I am Ser Lyrren Er Yot’Ah." The new face told him in near perfect Radian. He had the same accent as the others, but the dragon appeared to have a better control over it so it did not cause conflict with his Radian.
The dragon gently drew his arm over his chest before bowing with much more respect than he’d been given by any of the soldiers. Waylen drew his own arm up in salute, uncertain of this dragon’s place with Her Majesty’s court. He couldn’t be in her military given his attire.
“Commander Sol’Nu told me we would be delivered into someone’s care. Are you this someone?" Waylen asked.
The dragon first smiled in reply, and on his narrow features it was both a subtle gesture and almost predatory. Though he wore the face of a reptile, Waylen was reminded of a hawk’s gaze.
“I am. I have already given instructions to your party. We will assist them in bringing everything inside to your quarters. If you would follow me, Your Highness, there is much to tell you now that you have finally arrived at the Her Majesty’s doorstep." The dragon smiled more broadly this time, rising again to his full height.
“Of course, Ser Yot’Ah." Waylen agreed and waited for his cue to follow.
The dragon then hummed in reply, smiling still, then bowed his head to him almost apologetically.
“My apologies, Your Highness. It would lead to embarrassment if you were to continue to address us by the wrong name. You should say Ser Lyrren or Commander Nell instead. It is how we speak each other’s names." The dragon replied with another of his smiles.
Waylen nodded, taking note that they did not seem to like their surnames being used.
“Very well, thank you. Please, lead the way, Ser Lyrren." Waylen replied, gesturing with a hand to the open gates further down the way.
The dragon smiled again, bowed, and then spun on his heel to walk back the way he’d come. Commander Nell clapped her arm over her chest in salute and bowed her head before taking a step back and silently excusing herself from his presence.
He looked at the Captain, nodding to him, and together they began to follow along behind the slender, smiling dragon.
It’s essential to do things as closely as they do, for their comfort. We can build our own homes as we see fit, but when they come to visit, we must cater to them. They build very differently than we do. Everything they make for themselves is always comfortable, even if that means it must be fragile. That’s why they love building with wood, I think. It can burn so quickly and be broken with tools far more easily than stone, but it is very comfortable.
When the carving is finished for their guest rooms, I will have wood brought in from Radiah, and as much of it as is necessary. It is very fortunate that Edgard sent so many of his craftsmen from Radiah to help us rebuild Anya Sur. Our own craftsmen are talented, but not in the ways of Radian construction. They are very good at working on a large scale, and not just with big buildings but across many acres of land. With Radiah’s help we will learn how to build all sorts of new things! When we finish the guest rooms, they will look exactly like the ones I saw in Illian while I was there. They will be fragile, and we will need to devote time and care to keep them well, but they will be very comfortable.
We owe them a great deal, and we will welcome them always with open arms whenever they visit, and if that means I must build a second home for them in Anya Sur then that is what I will do. Bathe them in comfort like the rain bathes their kingdom. Yvvie thinks it’s a waste since she doesn’t think they will visit us often, but I think she will come to agree with me as she watches Radian steel gather in her coffers.
They kept pace with the dragon ahead of them, threading the needle through the rows of soldiers. Once they stepped through the gate, Waylen could see that they were in a large courtyard, pounded flat and decorated by numerous palm trees, a rarity in the desert as they only seemed to grow wherever there was an abundance of water. Further ahead of them was the base of Anya Sur, and at the pillar’s feet lay a monumental fortress carved right into the rock. At its highest point the fortress looked to be taller than Castle Illian, but much less warm and inviting.
Much like the buildings they’d seen while entering the city, the fortress’ walls were sheer, sanded smooth, and bleached nearly white from the sun. There were many long narrow slats carved into the stone, presumably windows. Across the many visible walls of the fortress were parapets. It looked like it would be a difficult place to conquer if war were to ever come here.
The dragon was leading them to the fortress’ only visible entrance, a staircase wider than any other he’d seen, which led up nearly a full story before it stopped at a large doorway.
“This is Her Majesty’s Keep, Your Highness. This will be your new home for the duration of your stay in Anya Sur. We have taken great care to ensure your time with us is pleasant with only the finest we can afford." The dragon told them from over his shoulder.
The slender dragon kept his hands clasped behind his back as he walked. His posture and grace spoke to the great lengths he must have been trained to maintain such poise. When they reached the steps, Waylen and the Captain had already walked a considerable distance and he was beginning to feel himself flag under the heat. He had to retrieve his handkerchief again to wipe the sweat off his brow.
He worried that if he sweated for any longer, he’d start growing feint. That was not something he ever needed to fear in Radiah, but it would be commonplace in a place like Atina Nah, as he’d been repeatedly warned. The air was so dry that it felt like he was in an oven being cooked. He could not imagine Captain Landon faring any better than he was.
“I am certain that this is the case, Ser Lyrren." Waylen replied out of politeness and was equally certain to disguise the weariness in his voice.
“Your journey has been very long, but it is soon near its end." The dragon added, taking the first step onto the stairs.
Waylen dreaded the steps, as he knew he would ache by the time he reached the top. He had to wonder why he was being made to walk up the stairs in the heat, and then he recalled the Captain saying that they were putting on a show. He wondered if there was someone hiding in the narrow windows above them watching as Waylen and the Captain both sweated to death while walking up a long flight of stairs.
By the time they reached the top, the dragon seemed unphased by the effort, while the two men caught in his wake were aching. Waylen hid his weakness as well as he could, but Captain Landon was a much older man, and his disguise was not so sharp. No matter the man’s skill and experience as a soldier, a long flight of stairs in this heat for someone his age left him grunting with irritation with the final step.
There were a pair of guards posted at the doorway ahead of them, and at Ser Lyrren’s direction the pair opened the way for them. Waylen and the Captain were led inside, and the sudden absence of sunlight and heat was a blessing.
The doorway led into a large hall where they found themselves feeling significantly cooler. The light was dim, but as Waylen blinked, his eyes began to adjust to no longer being in the bright sunlight of a cloudless sky.
The doors behind them were now being shut.
“Are my companions not following us?" Waylen asked as the sunlight vanished with the shutting of the doors.
“Yes, Your Highness, but not through the front entry. With the great amount of supplies and luggage you have brought with you, another route was chosen for them. Now, please, let us continue as we have little time to waste." The dragon replied with another smile and began to lead them through the room.
They followed, and Waylen noticed that when the dragon raised his hand and gestured at the nearby soldiers standing in the room, they all left their posts and began to fall into position at the four corners around the trio.
Apart from the small handful of servants, all Waylen had seen so far of the dragons were soldiers, and as they were led further down the hallways of the Keep that’s all he continued to see. Dragons in plate armor and sturdy leather stood at silent attention and at even intervals down every passageway Ser Lyrren took them, and each was equipped with either a sword or a spear.
The insides of the Keep were dimly lit with most of the light coming from lanterns, which were tucked within small niches carved into every wall. The entry hall they’d started in at least had natural light pouring in, but beyond that the stone construction of the Keep prevented sunlight from reaching its inner rooms. Even with the large number of lanterns, Waylen felt like he was being led through a cave.
“You said we have little time to waste. Should I be expected to see Her Majesty soon?" Waylen asked, breaking the momentary silence that had captured them apart from the sound of their footsteps clapping across stone.
“Yes! Her Majesty expects to see you soon, but she is well aware of the arduous journey you have just made. You are being granted a brief time of rest to prepare yourself for her audience. Once you are brought to your new rooms your companions can see to it that they are amended to your tastes." The dragon told him.
Much like the exterior of the fortress, and the buildings outside, the interior of the Keep had been carved perfectly straight and sanded smooth. Waylen didn’t know anything about masonry, but he did not imagine that it would be easy to carve a fortress so cleanly.
“I will have to extend to her my thanks. It took us a very long time to get here." He replied.
“The great Kingdom of Radiah is very far away! I have never stepped foot outside of Atina Nah, but I have had good fortune to hear much of your homeland, Your Highness. When you see your rooms, I do hope that they are to your liking. Much effort was made to ensure that any guest from Radiah would feel most welcome!" The dragon said, his foreign accent betraying him as he continued to heap praise upon Waylen’s future accommodations.
By the dragon’s tone of voice and manner, he seemed very prideful. This one, as strange as he was to Waylen, also felt very familiar. He sounded and behaved like a kind of nobility, and perhaps he was. There were many men that came to Castle Illian to see his father that spoke in similar manner.
“I do so, as well, Ser Lyrren." He replied.
“And my companions will all have adequate accommodation?" Waylen added.
“Oh, yes, Your Highness! It was always expected that guests would come with many in their wake. Your own rooms will have space for some, and then there is a separate room for the remainder. You may divide them as you see fit, but by the count I made upon your arrival there should be as many beds as there are heads in your party." The dragon replied.
As they continued to walk, the ache in his legs only grew. He’d walked plenty before, but never after such a long journey. His body did not agree with so much movement after such a long time, trapped in a carriage for hours at a time. He hoped it would quickly pass.
“And here we arrive, Your Highness!" The dragon replied loudly, drawing his hands out from behind his back to clap them together.
They’d reached the end of a hallway, which then forked to both left and right sides. Ser Lyrren pivoted on his heel to face Waylen and Captain Landon, then gestured with a hand for him to progress down the path to his right.
“Your rooms are here, Your Highness." He said with a bow of the head.
Waylen nodded and continued to walk, rounding the corner and finding a group of six dragons standing at attention along either side of the walls, with a seventh standing next to a doorway. It was intimidating being surrounded by so many tall and heavily armed dragons, but he wore as neutral of an expression as he could so as to hide it.
The dragon by the door, a woman by the look of her, clapped her arm across her chest in salute, and in turn the six others joined her with a salute of their own. She then reached for the door handle and opened it.
“Your Highness, the doorway to your left leads to your chambers, and the doorway opposite it will serve the remainder of your party. Please, do enter!" Ser Lyrren urged him forward.
Waylen complied, walking down the hall with the Captain in tow behind him. He passed a glance at the dragon holding the door. Her face was still and disciplined, as was the rest of her body. Her eyes betrayed her when he noticed her glancing at him briefly before averting them again to stare down the hallway from which they’d all come. She had gray eyes, something he’d never seen on someone before.
He passed her by, then walked through the open doorway to find a fully furnished room flooded bright with natural sunlight.
“I do hope it is to your liking!" Ser Lyrren said cheerfully from behind as Waylen stood in shock.
From the moment they’d stepped inside the fortress, the Keep had been an austere stone building, warmly lit with lanterns, and decorated so coldly that the desert could scarcely compete with it.
But Waylen’s new chambers had hardwood floors! There were wood paneled walls, even a painted ceiling! There were rugs on the floors that looked like they’d been bought at a Radian market, and there was furniture! And a writing desk, all carved from proper wood and polished with lacquer! Each piece of furniture he counted was distinctly Radian!
“Is this all from Radiah?" He immediately asked, turning to look at the dragon behind him.
Captain Landon had followed him inside by now, and by the expression on his face he was as surprised as Waylen was. Ser Lyrren stepped into the room, smiling broadly, an expression unmistakably smug but also intimidating with the rows of sharp teeth that filled the dragon’s mouth.
“Yes! His Majesty, King Myunn, made sure that these rooms were crafted with the greatest of care so that any guest from Radiah would feel as welcome here as they would be in their own home. Every piece of wood, every item of furniture, and all of the decorations, were brought from Radiah long ago. It has been a very long time since these rooms have been used, but rest assured, Your Highness, that every effort was made to ensure your stay here will be a pleasant one." The dragon replied proudly.
“This is very impressive! I am grateful that His Majesty was so thoughtful." Waylen replied, knowing that the King of Atina Nah was a man long since dead. He had died within a year or two of Waylen being born.
“He was a very thoughtful, Your Highness, and is missed greatly every day. Please, do let me introduce you to your rooms!" The dragon replied, quickly changing the subject away from the late King.
Ser Lyrren began to give Waylen a tour of his new rooms, showing him that the room they’d first stepped into was a drawing room for guests and meals, and attached on the left was a bedroom for his own use which included a fine bath. Opposite the bedroom was a large storage closet and a full kitchen for his servant’s use. The kitchen even had a living space attached to it that had enough bunks to sleep four people.
From Ser Lyrren’s description, the room across the hall was a single large room with furniture and shelving for storage, as well as numerous bunks for sleeping. There was another bath attached for servant’s use, but the dragon didn’t dwell on speaking of the other room for any longer than necessary, as he was very animated about showing off the Radian style rooms that Waylen would be using during his stay.
Outside in the hallway a brewing commotion could be heard. It sounded like a large number of people were soon to arrive, and Waylen suspected it was going to be Shane and the others coming along at last with all of their luggage.
“Please, the last thing I must show you!" The dragon smiled, leaving the kitchen behind him to draw Waylen down a set of narrow double doors that sat on the opposite wall from the front door. It was this same wall that was letting in all the natural sunlight through its curtained windows.
The dragon opened the doors and even more light, and heat, flooded the room. He stepped outside and beckoned Waylen to join him. They now stood on a balcony. It was not furnished in the manner of a Radian home, but instead more like the stonework found everywhere else in the keep.
For the first time in what felt like weeks he saw proper greenery. There were several flowering plants in large stone pots decorating the balcony. If it weren’t so oppressively hot, he could see himself enjoying a leisurely sit out here on one of the stone benches that sat near the wall.
“From the balcony you will have a fine view of the city, Your Highness. These rooms were chosen for their view of Anya Valas and the fields to other side of it." Ser Lyrren told him, extending both his arms out wide to illustrate the view.
And it was a fine view! To his left was the sheer rock of Anya Sur, and to his right was another pillar of rock that was much smaller than Anya Sur but still so massive it was a castle in its own right. But dead ahead of him, framed at the sides by stone, was a view of a large lake glittering in the sunlight.
He didn’t think a desert could hold so much water in one place! And beyond it were actual fields! Large patches of land were clearly being used as farmland. He knew the dragons had to eat, but he just could not have imagined they had farms like they did in Radiah. Such a barren place had things like this hiding here!
“I did not know Anya Sur had so much farmland, or even a lake." He remarked.
“Anya Sur has many things, Your Highness, and many of which Atina Nah has Radiah to thank for. Rest assured, your presence here in our city is most welcome." Ser Lyrren replied with a deep nod of his head.
Waylen was not sure what to say to that, but then someone else spoke for him.
“Your Highness, everyone is getting your rooms ready for you." Shane’s voice said from behind.
He turned, seeing the older man in the balcony doorway, looking like he’d walked too far and too quickly, his face red and beading up with sweat.
“Thank you, Shane." He replied.
Ser Lyrren turned to look at Shane and paused for a moment, studying the older man. He then pivoted back to Waylen.
“Your Highness, if now would be a good time, I’d like to explain what Her Majesty expects of you for the remainder of the day." The dragon then said, turning back to Waylen.
“Of course, what does Her Majesty need?" He asked.
“Now that your luggage is arriving you are free to settle yourself into your rooms. It would be wise to rest as much as you are able, and to prepare yourself for her audience. After I take leave of you, I will ensure that proper arrangements are made, and then return to bring you to Her Majesty’s throne room for an audience." He explained.
“I see, of course. I will certainly be ready, Ser Lyrren. When should I expect you to return?" He asked.
The dragon shut his eyes and appeared thoughtful for a moment.
“If I left now, expect my return within an hour. We have little time to waste, so I shall take my leave." The dragon smiled, then carefully drew his hand over his chest and bowed his head.
“Of course, thank you for taking me to my rooms, Ser Lyrren. I await your return." He replied, now surprised at how little time he was being given.
He’d expect a little more time than this, but apparently, he was expected to rest very quickly!
Ser Lyrren smiled, then took a step backwards before doing a pivot on the heel to step back inside. Waylen watched the dragon glide through the drawing room and out the door. His chambers were now filled with all of the servants that had traveled with him, as well as a few of his guards who were helping to move the heavier items of luggage to where they needed to be.
“I will tell everyone to hurry, we will need to get you clean and changed! I have not even examined your rooms, Your Highness!" Shane replied, wiping his weary face of sweat.
Waylen ushered the older man back inside and explained that he had his own bath in the bedroom and that every room was already furnished. Shane then began making sure that everyone was working as quickly as they could to settle his rooms to whatever state he deemed them to be in.
It would take the rest of the day for the work of it to be completed, but they had little time to spare before the dragons would return to fetch him. While Shane kept the men and women of Waylen’s entourage organized in their labor, his other half took care of ensuring that the bath was ready for him, and that his clothing had been selected.
That other half was Marissa, a woman of similar age to Shane. If they were still in Radiah, it would have been Marissa who would have been in charge of his bedchamber and attached rooms. Shane was always more of a tutor to him when he wasn’t acting as advisor for his father on foreign matters.
“Waylen, I’ve set out your best green tunic! Hurry to the bath, when you are finished, we will make sure you are fit for a crown!" She told him, encouraging him to take care of himself as quickly as he could.
In their haste the water that had been drawn for his bath was not a comfortable temperature but considering that they were in a fortress stranded in the middle of a desert he was grateful that water for bathing was even possible. He’d long wondered what life here would be like, since no one seemed to know for sure whenever he asked. At least now he knew that some basic facets of civilization existed even in the barren wasteland of Atina Nah.
After he finished bathing the women had already fled his bedchamber, and all that remained was Codi who helped him dress. Once finished, Waylen sent Codi to fetch both Marissa and Shane and the two of them returned to quickly assess the quality of Waylen’s appearance. Marissa preened over his face and hair while Shane carefully checked every button, every thread, and every last stitch.
“Very soon you will take your first true step as a Prince of Radiah, Your Highness." Marissa told him warmly as she adjusted the sleeve of his tunic.
“Indeed! Now, when you see her, you must stand straight, and never flinch! Her Majesty is very tall and is known to be of ill temperament, so do not let her intimidate you." Shane advised him, and Waylen nodded as he listened.
“She should be quite pleased! It’s been so long since a Sundile has come to visit her!" Marissa said almost as if scolding.
“I’ve never heard of anyone saying they found her in a good mood, and from all I have been told the absence of His Majesty has done her court no favors." Shane added, and Waylen drew in a quiet breath to calm himself down before his nerves could have the chance to get the better of him. His heart was quickening again as he began to think of who he was soon to face.
“Waylen was but a baby still, broken hearts do heal, Shane." She replied.
“Is there anything I should tell her that we haven’t already discussed?" Waylen interrupted them both.
“No, we’ve done all we could to prepare you, Your Highness." Shane replied, then dusted off Waylen’s right side to knock away some lint from their luggage.
Shane took a step back and looked Waylen over from head to toe once more while Marissa walked around behind him to touch up his backside of any missed detail. By the time they were done Waylen was sick of the attention, having stood stock still while they toiled away at his perfection.
“You look resplendent, Your Highness." Shane said at last.
Marissa stepped away to do as Shane had done, studying him from afar. She was quiet for a moment while she eyed him, then licked her thumb and stepped close. She pressed it to his forehead and with a quick wipe she adjusted a lock of his wavy hair into place. She then took another step back and nodded.
“I would hope so after all your work." He told them.
And it was just in time, too, as a knock came at the other door. Everyone left his bedroom and Shane quickly told Christa, the one person nearest the door, to answer it. She did, and quickly staggered backwards as soon as she found herself face to face with a dragon. Ser Lyrren had returned, and acted as if he did not notice the teenaged girl backing away from him. The dragon was so tall, and Christa so short, that they looked almost like parent and child.
“Your Highness, it is time." He smiled, staring right at Waylen.
“Of course, I am ready." Waylen replied, beginning to approach. “Does Her Majesty expect any of my entourage to be in attendance?"
The dragon eyed Waylen, then cast his eyes about the room.
“You may take a single guard with you, Your Highness. It would be wise to bring whoever is responsible for your safety." He answered.
“Of course, can someone bring Captain Landon?" Waylen replied, and Shane was already giving the order for Christa to go and find the Captain. Ser Lyrren took a large step inside the room, and then moved to the side so that the girl could quickly pass him by.
The dragon was not impatient at first, but the longer Christa took to return with the Captain, it was clear that he was becoming irritated. When she finally returned with the Captain in tow, the dragon immediately requested that they follow him, and to do so quickly as they would be late. Waylen told the Captain to follow him, and together they once again fell into the wake left behind by the slender dragon. They started off going back the way they’d originally come, but then took a different turn.
Now that they were walking and struggling to keep up with the dragon’s much longer gait, Waylen was beginning to fear that he wasn’t ready to come face to face with Her. He’d never met the Queen of Atina Nah, but he’d heard stories about her. From how both his mother and father described her, and that of his eldest brother and numerous others within the royal house, Her Majesty was a powerful woman, and not just from her status as crowned Queen of Atina Nah. She was a powerful warrior who’d lived for more than a century.
It was alleged that she had been young during his great great grandfather’s time. He was going to have to speak with someone who’d met not just his father, but many of his ancestors!
He'd also been told that even her own people found her frightening, and capable of such savagery in war that men were said to break rank to flee from her in battle. She allegedly spoke little and was commonly found in foul moods. The only positive thing Waylen had heard of her was that she’d selected a husband who was better suited to a crown than she was, but of course that man was now dead. Waylen would be left to confront the crown that remained, and the closer he felt himself come to his destination the more anxious he felt.
They rounded a corner, continuing to follow the dragon’s lead as his legs began to ache again from a lack of proper rest. Ser Lyrren then raised his hand as he walked snapped his fingers, shouting something in his native tongue at a line of soldiers further down the hall. The soldiers all snapped to attention, clapping their steel-clad arms over their chests like thunder. At the end of the hall were a pair of wooden doors, and his sense of unease began to rapidly grow. He knew it was coming.
“We have arrived at the throne room, Your Highness." Ser Lyrren said, still walking with great haste.
The dragon finally stopped when they were several feet away from the door, with two soldiers posted in the corners on either side of the doorway. The dragon pivoted to face him, staring him down intently.
“When the doors open, I shall lead you inside. There is a green painted circle in the middle of the throne room. You will ignore what I am doing and walk straight into the circle. You are to stand in the center of the circle when you do, there is a carving on the floor where you are to stand! Your companion will enter the throne room behind us, and he is to follow me and stand at my side. Is this understood?" The dragon asked firmly, darting his gaze away from Waylen and towards Captain Landon to make sure both men understood their direction.
Waylen stared the dragon down in return, repeating what he’d been told to himself in his head until he turned his head to look at the Captain. The Captain looked back with uncertainty, but the older man still nodded his head in agreement.
“Yes, Ser Lyrren. It will be done." He replied with a nod.
The intensity of the dragon’s instructions did nothing to ease his anxiety.
Yvvie is obsessed with turning Anya Sur in a great castle like the one she saw in Illian. She wants big walls and the power of stone to surround the entire city. I understand what she’s saying when she tells me all of her ideas, but I feel it is excessive. I won’t try to stop her, as there is no sense in trying to stop the sun from rising. Her mind works in the short term, focused on the years ahead of her, and she is very good at dealing with the present. While she does that, I will focus on the decades that are to come.
The Radians don’t even call this place a castle, as that is the wrong word for it in their tongue. A castle is a different thing, a building of walls that stands on its own. What we are carving into the rock of Anya Sur is what they would instead call a keep. It may take time to get her to use the correct word. I think she likes saying castle. She keeps finding new words in Radian that she likes, and she will use them often, even if they are the wrong words to use.
But if she must have this keep of hers, then I can at least help guide her in making it something proper. It must be a keep that is strong and impregnable, and I trust Yvvie to plan that herself. I have no worries there. What I must do is make sure that her keep has everything that a castle would have. Anya Sur must be both! I’ve already started the masons on the throne room. Carving and shaping stone is very difficult and takes a lot of time, so I will not have them carve ours to be as large as King Edgard’s, but when it is finished, we can still make it worthy of our crowns.
I am glad that Yvvie is letting us wait before we carve our names into the floor. This should have been done a long time ago, but I really want it to be in the throne room. No other room will do! Everyone that visits us will see that the keep of Anya Sur was built by the mothers of Ro and the fathers of Un.
The dragon smiled broadly, clasping his hands in front of his chest with a curt bow of the head.
“Good, once we are where we need to be I shall introduce you to Her Majesty, and the Queen will begin Her audience." The dragon told them both, then broke apart his hands to return them to the small of his back.
With another heel pivot the dragon was again facing away and towards the door, hands clasped tightly behind his back. Waylen inhaled deeply as the dragon snapped an order in his foreign tongue. The two guards stepped forward to take the door handles, and as they pulled them open Waylen exhaled.
Once the doors were open, Ser Lyrren began to walk, and so did Waylen. Behind him he could hear Captain Landon follow, but he dared not look anywhere but forward as they all stepped inside Her Majesty’s throne room.
The size of it surprised him. He’d expected something larger, but what he found was a room half the size of the fine and ornate hall where his father’s throne sat next to his mother’s. Her Majesty’s throne sat at the opposite end of a long stone room, rectangular in shape with a high ceiling. The walls were adorned only with two things, flowing red banners with foreign script stitched into their faces, and then dozens of glittering lanterns burning bright with fire.
Her throne room was better lit than the corridors, and very warm from the many fires keeping it that way. Waylen saw the green painted ring that Ser Lyrren had mentioned. The floor was made of polished stone with a rich green circle painted in its center that reached several feet out from the middle of the room.
Waylen did as he’d been told and approached the circle, stepping into it and towards a carved circle in its center. Only two feet across, the circle was not painted green like the stone around it, but instead was a deep crimson red like the banners on the wall. Etched into its face was foreign script he couldn’t read, but it looked like Atinan from what little he knew of it. He stepped onto it and came to a stop in the middle to face the opposite side of the room.
Though the room was smaller than he had expected, it was still filled to the brim with dragons of many different colors and regalia. At least a dozen guards stood with their backs to either wall, one between each of the red banners, and in front of Waylen at the other end of the room were a pair of thrones, one empty and one occupied. He quickly counted the many foreign faces that were staring at him.
There were no less than fourteen dragons staring at him, including the one that was seated. They all came in many different shades of color, but each were earthen in tone from warm reds and oranges to differing shades of gray. Half wore the armor of a soldier, a third wore robes or dresses, and only three wore what Waylen couldn’t believe. Loincloths to cover their lower halves and a shawl wrapped around their uppers, more skin on display than he ever imagined seeing in Castle Illian, especially for an important audience like this!
“His Royal Highness, Prince Waylen Sundile has come to Atina Nah from the Kingdom of Radiah, to seek an audience with Her Majesty Queen Yvvie Fah Ro’Sah!" Ser Lyrren shouted in Radian, nearly causing Waylen to jump out of his skin from the volume of it.
The dragon then spoke further, and just as loudly, but in his native tongue. The words hit the air like violence, the volume adding to their power until he heard his own name spoken again, followed shortly by the word Radiah. He was saying the same thing twice for the benefit of everyone in the room, but he wondered who in front of him needed the translation and who didn’t. He knew that Her Majesty was supposed to be fluent in Radian.
“It is granted." Replied the dragon sitting on Her throne.
Carefully, Waylen drew in a quiet breath then let it back out slowly. The dragon in front of him looked as tall as he’d been told, even though she was seated. Most of the dragons in the room had earth tone skin, and Her Majesty was no different. Her flavor of earth was a warm orange shade. She was clad head to toe in steel armor, crimson red fabric flowing out from beneath it. Her Majesty did not look like she was dressed to welcome a friend, but rather to march off to fight a war.
She also looked irritated. Even with her strange reptilian face he could tell she was wearing the temperament he’d heard so much about, which did not ease his anxiety at all.
The Queen sat slouched to one side of her throne, propping her head onto a hand as she rested her elbow on the arm of the chair. Draped across the floor behind her was her tail, and its tip was tapping the stone like a cat’s if you bothered it with too much unwanted affection.
Somewhere behind him the sound of footsteps drew further away, as if Ser Lyrren and the Captain were being drawn away from the circle. He wanted to turn his head to see where and why he was being abandoned in the middle of the room, but then he started to feel foolish. He was being given an audience so of course he’d be left here to fend for himself! He squared his shoulders and waited.
Her Majesty then lifted her head from her hand and straightened her posture, throwing up one leg to cross it over the other as both hands came to rest on the arms of throne.
“Welcome, Prince Waylen. It pleases me to see you survived the journey. Atina Nah is not kind to the men of Radiah." She told him, her voice carrying easily across the room. Like the voice of Commander Nell before her, it was deep but still feminine. There was warmth to her tone, but her expression and body language betrayed her and revealed that her warmth was an illusion. Well, perhaps it was not an illusion, but rather a mask. Something warm hiding something even hotter beneath its surface.
He didn’t know if he should say something, Ser Lyrren had not given him any instruction as to when he was allowed to speak to the Queen! Had he been in his father’s castle he knew the rules, but he was very far from home and doubted that the dragons carried any sort of similar decorum.
“You are not mute, Prince Waylen. You may speak." Her Majesty then added, her head tilting to the side with irritation.
He drew in another breath and began to quickly recall the several different things he’d been told to make an effort to say to Her Majesty when he finally met her. There was too much to say in one breath, and far too much to squeeze into a single audience. He nearly lost his composure as he struggled to piece together his words, but he finally found the start of a thread, and began to pull at it until his breath gently escaped his lips so that he could be calm enough to speak.
“I am grateful to have arrived, Your Majesty! I, and on behalf of my father King Rylan, wish to thank you for allowing me to attend the Festival of Founding. It has been a very long time since someone from my royal line has seen it, and my father laments that we have failed to visit you sooner, and more often. We hope that this year marks a change for the better, with the Festival being-“
“Stop." Her Majesty cut him off gruffly, raising her right hand before snapping her fingers sharply.
He froze, his skin bristling with goosebumps like the snap of her fingers had been the crack of lightning.
“You are here for the Festival, which is a near to a month away. I am still deciding what to do with you until then." She continued; the hand she’d used to snap was still uplifted.
Waylen was silent, watching the upraised hand and noticed she gestured with two fingers towards a dragon standing next to her. When this one began to step forward Her Majesty lowered her hand back to the arm of her throne.
“Your Highness." The new dragon replied with a gentle nod of the head, her voice and figure feminine. She was a much darker flavor of earth, like a shade of warm brown.
She was dressed much as the Queen was, so much so that they came very near to matching piece for piece, both dragons clad within polished steel with red fabric resting underneath.
“This is my eldest daughter, Princess Vienna Fah Ro’Un. She will be Queen of Atina Nah in due time." Her Majesty introduced her eldest.
Waylen already knew several names of important people he would be meeting, Princess Vienna being one of the more important ones. She was the firstborn and heir to the throne of Atina Nah. He scanned the other dragons standing behind Her Majesty and wondered which one was her other daughter, Princess Iolla. There were… He thought there were six other women standing on the other side of the room, but he was hesitant to say for certain since some of them were in armor. Only two were obviously as female as Her Majesty and Princess Vienna, as they both wore dresses. One stood out for her ivory skin, and the other was another shade of earth like the rest.
Princess Vienna lifted her hand and crossed it over her chest, drawing his attention back to her.
“While my mother decides how she will make use of your time in Atina Nah, it will be my responsibility to ensure you are comfortable while you are in our care. I have already made several arrangements for your stay with us, as you have already discovered. We hope that you found your living arrangements to be satisfactory." Princess Vienna took over from her mother.
Both her and her mother’s grasp of Radian was impeccable. It was clear that neither of them were born to the language, and yet they still spoke it like it was a well-practiced skill. It was a relief that his inability to speak their tongue would not be a hinderance, if both their royalty and even their servants, like Ser Lyrren behind him, could all speak Radian with ease.
“I am very grateful for the rooms I have been provided! I was not prepared to see a Radian bedroom so far away from home." He replied graciously.
The Princess seemed to smile at that, but Her Majesty continued to wear the same expression she’d been using since the start of their audience. As if to prove that her mood had not changed in the slightest her hand snapped a finger, the noise just as loud the second time as it had been the first. She didn’t even waste the effort of lifting her hand for it.
The Princess turned to look at her mother. They shared a silent look, eyes communicating until Her Majesty said something in her native tongue. Waylen had no idea what was being said when the Princess replied with something of her own.
“Your Highness, we are glad that you found your rooms welcoming. However, you will have to forgive us for leaving our audience brief. There is much to do in Anya Sur and very little time to do it." The Princess replied, taking another step forward to place herself further ahead of her mother.
Waylen was taken by surprise, especially so as the Princess began to tighten her arm over her chest in salute. It was already over? So soon? The answer came quickly as all the other dragons began to salute, as well. All except for Her Majesty.
Princess Vienna turned her head to look at her mother, who was now rising to her feet. Soon as her back straightened it was clear she was the tallest dragon in the room. When she began to walk past her daughter, Waylen felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.
Her Majesty approached him, her height becoming more and more obvious with every step until Waylen began to feel the strain on his neck as he lifted his chin to keep his gaze locked onto her own. When she stopped in front of him, he felt a cloak of fear settle over his shoulders, even though he did not know why. He tried to remind himself he was in the care of a friend of Radiah. Atina Nah had been their ally for well over a century!
“You are the youngest of your father’s sire." She told him, her teeth on display as her lips brought shape to her every word. His own words were eluding him for the moment, so he just nodded. She made a new expression, but he could not pin down what it meant.
“Would it not have been better for Rylan to send Nyle? He is your eldest kin." She asked with a subtle tilt of her head, her eyes studying him intently from above.
“Prince Nyle has too many duties to Radiah that he could not abandon, Your Majesty. I came in his stead." Waylen told a half-truth, his mouth suddenly dry.
There had never been any intention of sending Nyle, as Waylen was the perfect candidate to send. He was the youngest of four children and the least important. He would not be missed if he were to go on holiday for a few weeks or even months of the year. His mother would be upset, but she was always upset so that wouldn’t have struck anyone as odd.
Her face did not shift its expression, but her eyes bored down onto him like the light of a harsh sun. He tried to match her gaze, but her eyes were the most brilliant crimson red he’d ever seen, and he failed. He did not know that eyes could be such a powerful hue, let alone glitter like a ruby reflecting firelight.
“I’m sure you will be adequate to the task." She replied with another tilt of the head to the opposite side, like she was a cat stalking him as prey.
“I aim to be so, Your Majesty." He replied, his voice suddenly a whisper, embarrassing himself.
“You will attend dinner with us this evening. After you are returned to your rooms someone will fetch you when it is time." She replied, her demeanor suddenly shifting as her body relaxed and she began to turn away from him.
“Yes, Your Majesty!" He replied to her, feeling grateful to be free of her gaze as she began to walk back towards her throne.
Now that he was free, he was able to look back at the dragons that had been watching them from afar, and he first noticed that Princess Vienna appeared to look concerned, though he did not know why. There were so many things he did not know, and the weight of his ignorance was making it hard to breathe.
When Her Majesty returned to her seat there was a flash of white to his left. He jumped, further embarrassment washing over him as he turned to see that it was Ser Lyrren now at his side.
“We may leave now, Your Highness." The dragon told him, and he was grateful to be led back towards the doors. His audience with the Queen did not go as he’d imagined it would.
Having Thalla Fah Kah’Seh with us is proving to be a blessing. Though not an eldest, she has the wisdom of one. She’s always calm even when everyone else is shouting with anger. She’s been invaluable to me in any discussion she’s included in, because with her voice joined with mine, we’re able to speak reason to those who might not want to hear it. No longer do I have to fight alone to cool down someone’s head.
Yvvie still does not trust her, and I understand why, but I keep trying to tell her to let it go. She’s still upset that Thalla did not send more of her tribe’s warriors to help us take Anya Sur. Yvvie is upset at everyone for that. Thalla’s tribe sent us all that they could afford, and more than half of those that came to our aid did not return home. Many loved ones were sacrificed to put a stop the shadow cast by Anya Sur. I need to talk to her again to try and convince her to let it go.
But now that most of the tribes have laid down their weapons, Thalla is free to wield her voice alongside mine and together we try to keep the anger from starting another war. Atina Nah has seen enough spilled blood and I would like to solve our problems with words from now on. I’m planning on inviting Thalla to move her family to Anya Sur, same as I am planning to do with many others.
We need to fill the basket that is our new home with all the power and influence we can. Anya Sur will be rebuilt into something greater than a tribe that clubs its neighbors with greed and cruelty. I want it to be like the cities of Radiah and their great capital of Illian. I want members of every tribe in Atina Nah to feel welcome in Anya Sur, to walk its streets without fear, and to break bread with tribes they’ve never met.
We will be a great kingdom like Radiah is. We’ve all suffered enough.
When Ser Lyrren finished leading Waylen and Captain Landon out of the throne room the doors were shut behind them. The hallways outside felt noticeably cooler, but he didn’t know if it was because there were fewer lanterns or because he was still reeling from his audience with the Queen.
“Her Majesty, along with Princesses Vienna and Iolla, will be expecting you at dinner tonight. Final preparations are still being made by the kitchen, so you have time to rest further from your journey before I come to fetch you again, Your Highness." The dragon immediately began to explain as he led them back the way they came.
“Thank you, Ser Lyrren." He replied.
As they walked back towards Waylen’s new rooms he couldn’t focus his thoughts. He needed a moment to rest, a chance to actually think about what had happened today, but he feared that the time he had before dinner would be far too short to allow for anything meaningful.
The dragon ahead of him didn’t talk any further, and simply kept his hands clasped behind his back as he led them through the Keep. The design of the Keep was very predictable as they walked, something easy to remember, or at least it was for him. Waylen had loved exploring Castle Illian as a child, and it was a very confusing place with many narrow passageways and doors that let servants sneak through the castle unseen to perform their duties.
What created a challenge for Waylen in Anya Sur was how alike everything looked. Castle Illian was a quilt of labor, crafted over many generations with rooms and hallways bearing the fingerprints of many kings, queens, and their chosen staff. Waylen could wake up in any room of the castle and know exactly where he was from the décor. But in the Keep, there was nothing to identify a place as unique when every surface was carved from the same pale stone and adorned with the same decoration.
Perhaps that’s why it was made to be so predictable and straightforward, as to avoid confusion for the dragons that lived and worked here.
They reached the end of another hall, and now he felt like he was somewhere familiar. They followed Ser Lyrren around the bend and were greeted by the sight of several armored dragons, likely the very same ones he’d seen from before. He recognized one of them more strongly than the others, as she was standing by the doorway like she had when he’d first seen her. Her skin was a much richer shade of red than many of the other dragons he’d seen so far.
And just like before, she opened the door for them with Ser Lyrren stepping aside without a word. Since these were his own rooms, he did not need an invitation to enter his own quarters and did so on his own. Captain Landon followed him inside, and what was waiting for them was another surprise.
Shane and Marissa were standing anxiously near the small breakfast table in the drawing room, except now there was a very large dragon sitting at it patiently. No one else but Codi was anywhere to be seen, and he was standing beside the bedroom door like he’d been glued there, looking uncomfortable.
Ser Lyrren followed them inside, tucking himself near to the doorway to be out of the way while Waylen studied his visitor. He’d hoped for a chance to rest, but perhaps that would have to wait.
The dragon was unlike any he’d seen so far. She was female, of that there was no doubt. Her ivory dress was long with intricate embroidery around the collar, the fabric hugging her figure snugly enough to dismiss any doubts about her sex. She was as feminine as any man could wish for a woman to be, but the most remarkable thing about her was her skin. After seeing so many dozens of dragons today, Waylen had grown accustomed to their earth toned and gray skin, but this new face was a pretty shade of blue, like the color a painter might choose when painting the sky.
She was watching Waylen with what he felt was a polite smile, her legs crossed neatly under her dress while she let her hands rest in her lap.
“Your Highness, this is Eldest Thalla Fah Kah’Seh. She’s come to speak with you about your stay in Atina Nah." Shane spoke up, introducing the dragon with a formal bow and a gesture of the hand.
Waylen stepped further into the room to approach his seated guest. He stopped and gave a very polite nod of his head to her, drawing a hand up to his shoulder for a salute. He did not know the significance of what ‘Eldest’ meant, though he assumed it must have meant she was older than her peers, even though nothing about her looked old to his understanding.
It seemed like a strange word to use as an honorific in a royal court so similar to his own, and the dragon, though physically larger than many of the other dragons he’d seen today, she just did not look old to him. Her skin was too smooth and youthful in appearance. In fact, he did not think he’d seen any dragon that looked truly old to him, apart from perhaps Commander Roc from earlier in the day. Though he may have only judged him as old because of his facial scar. This Eldest Thalla Fah Kah’Seh had white hair, but so did all the other dragons, so he couldn’t use that to guess her age either.
“Welcome, Eldest Thalla. What brings you to me today?" He asked, lowering his arm back down to his side before sliding both hands behind his back. He put on a warm smile even though his emotions were still in a twist, and he desperately just wanted to sit and digest the day. Since he was unsure of what Eldest meant in their culture, and he already had learned to not use a dragon’s surname, he felt Eldest Thalla was probably the appropriate thing to say.
The dragon decided to reply first by standing, and Waylen’s many years of being tutored in good etiquette required that he step ahead, drawing him deeper into the dragon’s reach as his hand extended to help her rise from her chair. The Eldest had only just begun to lean forward and looked at his hand with an odd expression that she quickly replaced with a smile before extending her own hand. Her manner seemed awkward as he gently took her hand in his. He discovered then that her skin was very warm to the touch, and surprisingly so!
He helped her from her chair, but she did not rise through any effort of his own, as the dragon’s weight was far greater than any woman he’d ever met. Eldest Thalla rose under her own power and her hand within his proved to be purely symbolic as he’d have not had the strength to pull her upright on his own.
And upright she went, Waylen carefully drawing in a silent breath as yet another dragon proved herself far taller than any other he’d seen. Once she was standing straight before him, the strain on his neck taught him she was taller than even Her Majesty. Why were they all so tall!
She tugged her hand away, and the way she’d done it left him feeling that his gesture had been unwanted. He took a careful step backwards to put more space between them, his hand still feeling the lingering warmth of the dragon’s touch. Holding her by the hand was no different than holding a cup of tea whose warmth had yet to fade.
Eldest Thalla drew her arm gently over her chest to salute him as was their tradition, her head bowing to him silently before she finally lowered her arm back down and lifted her head again. As he watched her, he saw her eyes glittered much the same as Her Majesty’s, but this one’s were a brilliant blue like sapphires.
“Your Highness, you have had a very busy day, and it is not yet done. I will be brief." She finally spoke, surprising him with how gentle her voice was despite coming from a person so large. It had the same depth and tone as he was coming to expect from female dragons, but Eldest Thalla was much softer than the other three he’d heard speak.
She lifted a hand to gesture to Waylen’s side, and with a turn of his head he saw that it was Ser Lyrren who was the target. Waylen listened as Ser Lyrren then said something quietly out the doorway in their native tongue. The dragon outside, the one that had opened the door for them twice so far, then stepped inside with Captain Landon stepping away to give the newcomer room.
“Since you will be staying in our care for many weeks, Her Majesty has gifted you the service of her finest." Eldest Thalla continued, drawing Waylen’s attention back to her.
“Captain Norra, Ser Lyrren." She continued, gesturing again with her hand pointing a finger at an empty spot of room to Waylen’s left side.
Both dragons quickly obeyed, rushing to where she’d pointed and both dragons took up posts side by side, Ser Lyrren being the taller of the two.
“Your Highness, I am a member of Her Majesty’s Council, and one of Anya Sur’s Eldest. Princess Vienna has given me the responsibility of managing your schedule while you are in Anya Sur, and I have authority to speak on her behalf, as well as Her Majesty’s." She then gestured to Ser Lyrren who stiffened up at the attention.
“Ser Lyrren Er Yot’Ah will be with you daily, and he is responsible for making sure that all of your needs are met. If a member of your service," She then gestured to Shane and Marissa, “needs assistance or supply, then please do seek out Ser Lyrren and he will see to it that it is answered."
Her hand then drifted to Captain Norra who also stiffened from the attention. The way the two dragons grew still from just a wave of the hand told him what he needed to know about Eldest Thalla. He did not know what being an Eldest meant, but being a Council member for Her Majesty was surely an extremely important position to hold. She was very likely standing on par with that of a member of a noble house, someone of great status both inside and out of the Keep.
“Captain Norra Fah Tah’Yah is the Captain of the soldiers you’ve seen outside. Princess Vienna has entrusted her with your protection. She has proven her skill to Her Majesty, and I assure you she will serve you well. The soldiers under her command were handpicked by Princess Vienna and are adequate to any task given them. I understand you came with your own personal guard. I hope that they will work well together, but that is a task I will leave to Captain Norra to manage." She finished, then with a gentle sweep of her hand she gestured for the two to leave.
Both dragons quickly clapped their arms over their chests, then pivoted and made a quick exit from the room.
“And I promised to be brief, Your Highness." She told him with a nod.
“Dinner, as I am told, will be a feast. I do hope that you are of strong appetite. When preparations are complete, Ser Lyrren will escort you to dinner. Only your presence is needed at the table, your servants and guards will be presented with meals from our kitchens as a gift to welcome you all to our city." Eldest Thalla told him, then bowed her head again with an arm rising to cross over her chest.
He replied quickly in kind with a salute of his own.
“That sounds wonderful, Eldest Thalla. I, and everyone that has traveled alongside me, appreciate the warmth and hospitality offered to us." He replied, and the dragon lifted her head up and smiled.
“You are welcome, Your Highness, now please allow me to depart so that you may rest until dinner." She told him, then began to make her own exit.
Waylen stepped to the side and bid her farewell. She was so tall as he watched her walk by. Ser Lyrren was waiting for her by the door, and when she was gone, he bowed his head to him and shut the door. The dragons were now gone, and everyone seemed to let go of their held breaths.
They do a lot of sitting and talking, and it can be exhausting trying to follow their conversations. I’ve learned a good many of their words, and they some of mine, but I still find myself lost. Even when I understand all of the things they say, the subjects they speak of elude me. Their conversations drift to strange things, concepts I do not understand. I have to stop them, ask what a new word means, and then I have to ask them for the meaning of the meaning.
I did not know what snow was until recently. I still don’t know what it is, because I’ve yet to see it. Yvvie has seen it, when she marched an army off to Radiah to help Edgard as he had helped us. Snow is something very cold and it fell from the sky, like tiny specks of white sugar. She told me she hated the snow, that it was more painful than the chill air of an Atinan night. I think I would hate it, too. It is already cold enough in Radiah, far too cold for my liking. I think I understand now why Edgard is reluctant to visit us, as the heat of Atina Nah hurts them as much as their cold does us.
Yvvie struggles the most when we visit them, or when they visit us. Not with the cold, as she is strong enough to endure that. It’s their talking. She likes to sit and talk like any other, but there are only a few things that interest her enough to keep her attention. She likes hunting, or at least she used to. She doesn’t get to do that anymore. Now that she and I are rulers, we spend so much of our time devoted to leadership. Why, I haven’t woven anything in what feels like years! The only time I touch fabric now is when I dress myself. I do not even have the time to make my own clothing like I used to.
At least when they start talking about war, or of fighting, Yvvie becomes more pleasant and actually talks to them. I don’t have much to say at those times, since that is not anything I understand. I leave those conversations to her and allow myself to enjoy the sound of her voice. She’s getting better at speaking their tongue, sometimes surprising me with a word I don’t know myself, only to discover that it’s something related to conflict.
Fortress, for example. I think it means the same thing as keep but you aren’t supposed to use them in place of each other. They have many words like that, so many ways to say the same thing but you have to be careful or else you mislead them. I once had to defend Yvvie after Edgard questioned her foul mood at the dinner table. Thinking that I was being polite, I explained to him that she was merely angry at the pace of the night’s conversation. That was the wrong word to use! That led to a very uncomfortable conversation, but at least I learned a new word for what I should have said instead.
Impatient is a very good word for Yvvie, and I’ve decided that it will become one of my favorite words.
Marissa was the first to move, stepping around the breakfast table to the chair Eldest Thalla had been using, and beckoned Waylen to come and take a seat. He gladly took the offer and sat down, relieving his legs of their burden. The seat was even warmer than the dragon’s hand had been, but he thought little of it. The comfort of being able to rest his legs was more important.
He thought of Captain Landon, who’d spent just as much time on his feet as Waylen had and told him to sit as well. While the Captain took the other seat at the table Shane waited expectantly for any news.
“Well, how did it go, Your Highness?" He finally asked.
“I don’t know. She did not seem pleased at all. She looked irritable. Princess Vienna spoke briefly and seemed to be much more cordial." Waylen replied, following it up with a very concise retelling of what had happened in the throne room.
“She was rude more than anything!" Captain Landon added. “A Queen should know to have more tact than that!"
“Not so loud, Landon!" Shane urged him, pointing his finger at the not so distance door leading to the hallway. “Mind that we are in Her house!"
The Captain rolled his eyes but shut his mouth.
“What exactly was spoken, Your Highness? What were you able to tell her?" Shane asked.
As Waylen relived his moment in the throne room, explaining in more detail what all he’d been able to say, Marissa excused herself to the kitchen. There was precious little to tell Shane, since the audience had been cut far shorter than anything he’d been expecting.
“I thanked her for welcoming me as a guest, and for the quality of our accommodations. I offered an apology for no one coming to visit in such a long time, and I tried to express a promise that Radiah would do more from now on, but then she cut me off. I could tell she seemed impatient the entire time, but I don’t know the cause of it." He replied.
Marissa returned with a cup of tea and offered it to him, and when he took it he was reminded him of the dragon’s hands. How could a people be so warm in a place so hot?
“I have never heard anything less of her. If His Majesty were still alive, I am certain that your audience would have gone much better. King Myunn was said to be very much her opposite." Shane told him.
He remembered that, yes. Now that he’d actually gotten a taste of Her Majesty, he felt he was beginning to understand how significant His Majesty’s absence must have been felt after his passing. If he was said to be Her Majesty’s opposite…
“Princess Vienna was her opposite, too. Well spoken, she spoke Radian well. Polite." He explained.
At least one of their daughters had seemed to take after their father in temperament.
“Well, that is good! She will be the next to wear the crown." Shane said to which Waylen nodded.
“Her Majesty told me that I was almost a month early for the Festival, and that she did not know what to do with me until then. She gave Princess Vienna instruction to tend to my affairs in the meantime." He replied.
“Perhaps this is for the best!" Marissa spoke up from Waylen’s side, touching a hand to his shoulder.
“Who then appears to have quickly handed my affairs off to Eldest Thalla, who then handed them to those two outside. From Her Majesty, to Princess Vienna, to Eldest Thalla, and then to them." Waylen replied with a wry smile, casually gesturing towards the door. “I’m being shuffled around from one dragon to another."
The Captain snorted with offense.
“This has been an ugly first impression." He told them all, and Marissa quickly agreed.
“Much time has passed since anyone of import has come from Radiah. It may be that the warmth between us has cooled during this time." Shane said then, and Waylen nodded.
That may very well be the case, and it wouldn’t be good if it was true.
“Well, today isn’t finished. I still have to attend dinner with them." He replied.
“You should rest as much as you can since we do not know when they will return for you." Shane told him, and Waylen nodded. That would be nice.
“Let me grab Codi and I’ll plan your outfit for dinner." Marissa told him then, giving his shoulder a comforting squeeze before stepping away.
He watched her leave, pulling Codi away from his spot near the door, and then off to his bedroom they went.
“Are things settled in?" The Captain asked, looking to Shane.
The older man lifted his shoulders and shrugged them.
“Not fully. The kitchen is not as well stocked as Marissa wants, and I had to try and translate what she needed to one of the dragons outside. Most of them do not speak Radian at all. The one that was introduced to us before, the woman dragon with red skin, Captain Norra. She spoke broken Radian." Shane said, Waylen seeing that it looked like he longed for a seat.
“You can take the chair from the desk." He told him, gesturing to the writing desk sitting in the corner.
The older man shrugged again and began to make his way towards the desk while he continued to talk.
“All the men are to be housed in the other room across the hall, and I think they are as well settled as they are going to be. It’s not as well furnished as your own rooms, Your Highness. I do not envy the dragons at all if that room is indicative of their preference in dwellings.
“It’s just a room carved out of rock, same as the rest of this place. It’s not meant to be warm and cozy here. It’s a fortress." Landon replied, Shane shuffling the chair across the room before sitting it back down next to the small table.
“That may very well be, but it certainly is a dreary place! Everything is dim without any windows. At least we will not have to sleep in a carriage or on the ground anymore." Shane added.
“Aye." Landon replied.
“We will have to endure it for almost a month before the Festival. We set out too early." Waylen added, but Shane shook his head.
“This is what your father wanted for you. You haven’t seen very much of the Keep so far today, but with luck you will see much more in the next few weeks. We all have plenty of time to see what Her Majesty has been up to in the last seventeen or so years." Shane replied.
Waylen nodded. It had been a long time with little information making its way to Illian of the affairs of Anya Sur. Trade continued, as the merchants from both kingdoms were always busy, but the politics were like a stream near to running dry.
With no one important coming and going from Anya Sur for official matters, Radiah simply lost track of what Queen Yvvie was doing here in the desert. She was obviously gobbling up monthly shipments of wood, steel, various luxuries common to Radiah but rare to the desert, and lots of wine. His father was curious what all the steel she requested was going to. What Radiah got in return was often very profitable once it was traded away to other kingdoms that bordered their own, but none of it was of military importance. Just trade goods like dragon glass, fine sand for local glass making, and spices common to Atina Nah.
It was important that someone from Radiah’s royal court finally came to Anya Sur, if only to show face and remind everyone that the two kingdoms were allies, but more importantly it was critical to his father that he understood the state of Atina Nah. The Kingdom of Radiah had far too many fair-weather friends to the east of their borders, and most importantly, they had an enemy directly north of them.
Radiah had been at odds with the Kingdom of Darfell for longer than they’d been allies with Atina Nah. They’d been taking land from each other for centuries, for as long as their histories could be recounted. When Waylen’s great great grandfather King Edgard Sundile had forged the Treaty of Five Kings with Atina Nah it was for the sole purpose of defeating Darfell.
And they did. Darfell had been defeated so soundly that not only had Radiah taken back much of the land they’d lost in years past but took land from them that had never been theirs to begin with. Darfell had been viciously kneecapped, and it happened so openly that every other kingdom saw it and learned a valuable lesson. They all learned that Radiah had dragons leashed like dogs, and they could be let loose at any time.
Waylen drew in a deep breath and took a sip of his now cooling tea. His attendance at this year’s Festival of Founding was just a ruse. What his father really wanted was for Waylen and his entire entourage to sniff around and spy so that when they returned home, they’d be able to tell him how strong Her Majesty’s army was. Darfell was growing stronger with every passing season, and they were trying to forge alliances with many of Radiah’s neighbors. His father needed to know how much strength the dragon’s possessed, because he wanted to use the Treaty’s power to summon them to strike a blow against Darfell before they could grow any stronger, and to remind everyone else why they were better off being on friendly terms with Radiah.
“I don’t know how easy they will make it for any of us to move around." Waylen said to both men. Shane straightened himself up in his chair.
“You are a Prince of Radiah. If you ask for something, I do not think they will give you much resistance." The older man replied.
Landon scoffed at that.
“Optimism." He replied.
“We start with optimism and then find alternatives should it fail." Shane told him in return. “Even if things are fragile at present, I do not believe they will keep us to our rooms like prisoners!"
The Captain hummed a chuckle at that, matching Shane’s optimistic outlook with pessimism of his own.
“When you were coming up the road behind us, did you notice that the streets were empty?" Waylen interrupted them, asking Shane now about what he’d seen earlier. The Captain twisted a bit in his chair to look to Shane as well, awaiting his reply.
“Yes, we all noticed it. That was very strange. Nothing along the road looked to me like it would normally be empty, especially at such an hour of the day. It was a market." The old man replied.
“Has father ever cleared the streets of Illian before? Or grandfather?" Waylen asked.
Shane looked thoughtful for several long moments until he finally shook his head.
“Everyone in your family has had to send someone ahead of their carriage to make sure a road was clear for them, but they never sent everyone away to hide in their homes. I can’t recall there ever being a time when anyone has gone as far as what we saw today." Shane said.
Waylen nodded.
“Should we ask about why they thought to do that?" He asked.
“I don’t know. It may mean nothing, since it’s been such a long time since anyone has visited. This may be one of their customs." Shane replied.
“They were putting on a show, from the moment we entered the desert they had their riders prowling around us. The soldiers at their front gate. Every step we took they were trying to intimidate us." Landon added.
Shane drew in a deep breath before letting it out.
“Maybe so. It could still be a custom of theirs, and nothing more." He replied.
“Optimism." Landon chuckled again.
“It’s what we have for now." Waylen agreed, it was all they had for the moment. If that failed then they could find alternatives, like Shane had said.
There was a knock on his door, and he sighed. It hadn’t even been… They were going to run him ragged all the way until nightfall, weren’t they? Shane got up to answer the door, and Ser Lyrren was standing there with a big toothy smile apologizing for returning so soon.
As much as I don’t like how they eat their meals, I will do the same. Yvvie has told me many flavorful things about what she thinks of Radian table manners. I have to argue with her in private that we must eat the way that they eat when we are sitting at their table, and that we must try to do the same when they eat at ours!
We are not breaking bread with the common folk when the Radians come to us, or us to them. We are meeting with royalty. Royalty! So many of their words are soft, and yet this one sounds more at home alongside something Atinan. Radian royalty are not merely leaders of a tribe. They are the rulers of all tribes! And we are now like them, for we conquered Atina Nah with their help and came to wear crowns forged from Radian steel! We are our own royalty now, Yvvie and I!
We must be like them. We must learn from them! Edgard’s family has ruled Radiah for generations and there is much wisdom in how they do things. I do not yet know how to rule a kingdom, and Yvvie does not either! Neither of us were born to lead a tribe let alone all the tribes of Atina Nah. I just wanted to help mother and father weave cloth, and Yvvie was a skilled hunter who only ever wanted to bring home food to her family.
I have been living a simple life until now. It has taught me many things, but most of it did not prepare me for what life demands of me now. I can only do my best to use what little wisdom I have well. Yvvie, too, is like me. At least hunting prepared her better for battle than weaving cloth was for me. Together, despite our many weaknesses, we might be able to forge a kingdom that will last as long or far longer than the Kingdom of Radiah. We just need to learn as much as we can from those who have walked this road before us.
And we’ve come so far! All of Atina Nah now gathers at our doorstep, the gateway to trade has been flung wide open! Riches and bounty flow through our streets, and in the hands of each of our soldiers is hard Radian steel, which we will wield with all the strength we can muster to protect this hard-earned peace from those that would seek its ruin! I know the path forward will be difficult, and even now I have my moments of doubt, but in the mornings, I often wake up and see what we’ve created, and I feel joy. I believe that the Kingdom of Atina Nah will stand for a long time.
And if that means I have to learn which fork to use and why, then I will do it. I will make Yvvie do it, too, even if she threatens to steal the horns off my head.
“Shane, go tell Marissa that I won’t be needing a change of clothing for dinner." He said with a sigh, standing up despite the protests from his legs.
The Captain stood to join him, but Waylen reminded him that he was to dine alone with Her Majesty. The older man reluctantly agreed and resigned himself to walk Waylen to do door where the dragon waited.
“My apologies for greeting you again so soon, Your Highness." Ser Lyrren told him at the door.
“All is well, Ser Lyrren. Please, do lead the way." Waylen replied, gesturing for the dragon to take the lead.
The dragon nodded in reply, then took a few steps back to beckon Waylen through the doorway and into his wake. The dragon then began to lead the way while he followed. Soon after they’d begun a pair of dragons formed up behind them to follow them, Waylen turning his head to see that it was Captain Norra and one other he did not have a name for yet.
He looked back ahead and found that the dragon was now looking back at him while he walked.
“Your Highness, I am told that dinner had been planned to be later in the evening, but then Her Majesty decided she wanted to eat earlier than normal." The dragon began to explain before looking forward again to see where he was going.
He had to wonder if this was because she was simply impatient, or if this was just her way of putting on a show to see how well he conducted himself under stress? His day had started early and was growing long in the tooth with him becoming more exhausted by the hour.
“Also, Eldest Thalla requested that I bring you to the dining room even earlier so that I might provide some… Instruction." The dragon told him, moving his hand in the air like he was searching for the correct word to use. It was nice seeing a familiar gesture in a place so far away.
“Of course. What is the instruction?" He asked.
“Etiquette!" Came an excited reply, one of his hands pointing to the ceiling like he’d finally found the word he wanted.
Waylen nodded as he walked, wondering what sort of etiquette would be passed his way. So far, he’d experienced a lot of familiar formalities, but after his audience with the Queen he did not know what to expect from dinner. He’d attended so many formal dinners in Radiah that he was not worried at all about his behavior if Atina Nah shared similar beliefs about how to manage oneself at the dinner table.
If things were different here, then he would just have to politely smile and hope he could remember everything he was about to be told and to eat his dinner without causing any distress. He’d done that before when he was a little boy, afraid of being scolded by his mother for acting poorly at the table when the truth was that he just didn’t know any better. It was good that his mother wasn’t here, and not just to spare himself a scolding over some imperfection at the table. Every single thing he did would have been scrutinized until he felt nothing but pain at the sound of her voice.
Of everyone that had come with him to Anya Sur, there were only three people who had any sort of power to speak criticism to him, and all three of them knew how to deliver it without inspiring daydreams of open windows and sharp drops.
Ser Lyrren led him through familiar halls, and then a fresh turn that he felt was leading them deeper into the belly of Anya Sur. As hot as it was outside in the sun, the Keep was very cool now that they were so deep into the fortress. Even the lanterns and sconces giving them light were insufficient at keeping the coolness at bay.
They reached a flight of stairs, each step carved right into the rock, and he silently winced as he began to walk up them. Ser Lyrren was rising the stairs two steps at a time, his height giving him enough of a gait to move quickly up the steps. By the time they reached the top of the staircase the dragon was waiting for him, having moved far faster than Waylen’s weary legs could carry him.
The two dragons behind him had to slow their pace to match his own. He hoped that dinner was not far away. Those stairs felt like they were long enough to have brought them up to a third or even a fourth floor.
“My apologies, Your Highness. I can move quite quickly when I’m not careful." The dragon apologized to him, and Waylen simply nodded his forgiveness in reply, gesturing for the dragon to continue leading the way. The faster they reached their destination the better, even if his calves hated him for it.
“Where are we in the Keep?" He asked, breaking the silence that was now commonplace as Ser Lyrren continued on.
“I’ve taken you to the royal chambers. This is where Her Majesty and her daughters live and work. You will be having dinner with them tonight in their private dining room. Very few guests get to visit this part of the Keep, Your Highness." He replied, glancing back at Waylen with a smile.
“Do you get to visit this part of the Keep?" Waylen asked in reply, then quickly regretted it.
Had they been in Castle Illian his comment could have been taken as a slight against the servant, implying that they were neither important enough nor trustworthy enough to be allowed this far into the castle. Waylen was tired, his legs burned, and he was now hungry with the thought of food. He wanted to rest! He drew in a quiet breath to calm himself; it would not do him any good to let his frustration or discomfort cause him problems.
“I do, Your Highness. My duties take me to every room in the Keep." He replied haughtily.
Waylen couldn’t tell by the dragon’s voice if he took the question as an offense or not. Perhaps it was for the better.
After one more corner Waylen was taken to a shut doorway, guarded by three soldiers. Two stood to the door’s either side while a third soldier stood with their back to the opposite wall so as to watch the doorway. Ser Lyrren made a gesture with his hand as he approached, and the dragon facing the door stepped forward to open it while Ser Lyrren stepped to the side and beckoned Waylen to enter ahead of him.
He walked through the doorway, finding a somewhat small dining room. It was very austere in décor, but he no longer found that surprising. In the center of the room was a large wooden table, though it did not appear to be of Radian construction. Whoever had made it either did not have a knack for elegance, or a care for it, because the table had simply been cut and sanded into a perfect rectangle of wood which was then set upon four sturdy legs of equal perfection. It was not decorative, but it was clean and functional.
There was room enough around it to seat as many as ten people, but at the moment only four chairs were present, and all were clustered at one end. He knew which one was expected to be his because it was of wooden Radian construction whereas the other three appeared to be cushioned stools, which took him by surprise. Who keeps stools at the dinner table?
Ser Lyrren entered and shut the door behind him, then quickly stepped around Waylen’s side and began to approach the chair Waylen expected to be his. He was proven correct when the dragon slid it out from the table.
“Your Highness, this will be your seat, but please remain standing until Her Majesty and Princesses Vienna and Iolla arrive." The dragon told him.
“Of course. What instruction do I need, Ser Lyrren?" Waylen asked.
The dragon stood up and clasped his hands behind his back, as appeared to be the custom though Waylen did not know if it was exclusive to Ser Lyrren or if all servants would be conducting themselves in a similar manner. So far, Ser Lyrren was the only servant he’d actually interacted with.
“When Eldest Thalla greeted you earlier today you extended your hand to her as she rose from her chair. That was… Impolite." He replied with a tight smile. “It prompted concern that you may be too unfamiliar with our customs."
That took him aback to hear, but he did remember that the Eldest had behaved slightly off when he’d taken her hand before.
“I did not mean to offend her if I had. Helping a lady rise from her seat is customary in Radiah. I will make sure to apologize to her when I next see her." Waylen replied, making sure his voice sounded earnest as he spoke.
The dragon pulled his hands out from behind him and clasped them over his stomach, almost as a submissive gesture.
“Eldest Thalla is not offended, Your Highness. She is old and wise and understands that you are her opposite. I assure you that you do not need to extend an apology to her, as there was no offense taken. Her only concern is that as a Prince of Radiah, it would not do you well to make mistakes if they can be avoided." Ser Lyrren replied very gently.
Waylen had to control his smile. So, he had offended the dragon by suggesting that he might not visit the royal chambers. He did not think that someone as high in status as Eldest Thalla would openly make the claim that he was young and foolish, or at least in a manner that she knew would work its way to his ear. If Ser Lyrren wanted to trade a barb for a barb, one way to do it would be to make it seem like Eldest Thalla had, and Waylen would look even more foolish for accusing her of such a thing.
“I am certainly willing to learn, so please educate me." He replied.
“We do not… Touch one another so casually as they might do in Radiah. Please, avoid touching others while you are here, but you may trust that if someone such as Her Majesty were to extend a gesture to you, then you may reciprocate it without worry. We are very particular about such things, Your Highness." The dragon told him.
He was to avoid touching others? He hadn’t been of the mind to be touching any dragons unless it was required, but now he doubted he’d ever know what that even meant! If something as polite and commonplace as helping a woman stand could cause offense, then he’d have to watch himself very closely. He supposed that even a congratulatory pat on the back would cause problems.
“Of course, I understand." He agreed, nodding, even though he was now worrying over what he was supposed to do if he couldn’t do what he was accustomed to doing! This was not anything Shane, or anyone else for that matter, had warned him about.
The dragon took a step forward and lifted his hands.
“Radians are known for doing things with their hands that we do not do here. If someone approaches you with both hands extended." He began, offering both his hands, but with his palms facing up. “Do as I do, Your Highness."
Waylen lifted his hands and turned his palms up. The dragon then reached over his until he was able to grasp him by the wrists. “As I do, Your Highness."
He grabbed Ser Lyrren by his wrists. Just like there had been with Eldest Thalla, he felt an unusual warmth emanating from the dragon like warm tea. Then the dragon gently tugged his hands down and lifted them. He did this twice, like a kind of handshake, and then he broke his grip and began to pull his hands away, and Waylen did the same.
“That is likely the only manner in which you will use your hands with us, Your Highness. It is how we seal oaths or settle agreements. It is unlikely that you will be asked for either such thing during your time here, but if the moment comes, I assure you the gesture will be clear to you." The dragon told him, gesturing with his hands to make it obvious that it would indeed be clear.
“I see, thank you. I’m happy to have learned this." He replied, still feeling the lingering warmth around his hands and wrists where the dragon had touched him.
“Also, what I just showed you, we do not do with a single hand like you would in Radiah. If we did that would be considered an insult, please never permit yourself to do that unless it is intentional." He then added.
He was feeling so embarrassed now, like his earlier faux pas had caused all the important dragons here to think he was a savage that didn’t know he wasn’t supposed to give handshakes. He felt so grossly unprepared that he would have to have a long talk with Shane to discuss what to do and what not to do if he didn’t want to offend anyone here! All of this should have been pounded into his head before they ever left Illian!
“Of course, I think I understand now why Eldest Thalla would have become so concerned by my gesture." He replied.
“She is not offended, Your Highness." The dragon repeated himself, before lifting both his hands to point at the top of Waylen’s head, then twisted his hands to point at the top of his own, reaching higher until it was obvious that it was his horns he was bringing attention to.
“You will never touch our horns." He continued. “We do not have reason to believe that you would, but I am making it understood since I have been told that in Radiah your people sometimes pet or touch one another’s heads. If you ever see an Atinan take another by the horn it would only be for combat or a parent scolding a whelp severely."
Petting on the head? What did he mean by that? Was it someone brushing aside a lock of hair? What all had the dragons been told of Radiah? Were they all worrying themselves into fits thinking that he was going to start touching everyone inappropriately? He wore the tightest of smiles as he agreed that he would be sure to never touch anyone’s horns.
And what was a whelp?
Then there was a sudden clap from below them, the dragon lowering his hands to point at the source of the noise, which had been his tail. Waylen looked down, and the dragon lifted and dropped his tail to the floor to clap it again.
“Also, our tails. Do not touch them, same as horns. Mistakes can be forgiven if you touch us with your foot, but never touch it with purpose, Your Highness." He explained.
“Of course." Waylen nodded, feeling even more embarrassment and frustration.
He wasn’t a child! If he knew better than to tug at a dog’s tail, he certainly had no intention of grabbing a dragon by theirs! His smile only grew tighter.
“And remember to not use our surnames as you did at the southern gate. We only use our surnames for formal greetings, which have already come and gone this day. Formal greetings are only customary upon the first meeting of a day." Ser Lyrren explained the rule a little more clearly than he had earlier in the day.
Waylen nodded again, grateful that at least this part of the etiquette didn’t make him feel like shrinking in size.
“Is that all, then?" He asked, hoping it was over.
The dragon smiled broadly and seemed to draw in a breath.
“There are many things in Anya Sur that you do not know, but I cannot teach them all to you before dinner. With each passing day your ignorance will fade and when you return to your homeland you will be much wiser than when you had left." The dragon smiled again, clasping his hands behind his back.
There was a knock at the door behind them, and Waylen turned to look but nearly jumped out of his skin when Ser Lyrren whistled loudly. It had been a single sharp burst, taking him by surprise, but then the door opened, and a handful of gray robed dragons entered. Each carried with them metal plates covered in utensils, cups, and other table settings.
Ser Lyrren gestured with his hands for Waylen to step aside from the table, and the two of them gave the new group of dragons a wide berth so that they could set the table.
And they were setting the table all wrong. Waylen watched as forks, knives, and spoons were all set to either side of plates. Not one item was going where it belonged, but at least they were all incorrect the same way, so it at least matched. They were also missing a few utensils, but what was on the table would still serve well enough for a meal.
Ser Lyrren then stepped close and dipped his head low. Waylen was almost taken aback by having a dragon so near to him, but the body language of someone wishing to whisper into one’s ear was unmistakable.
“When you are in Her Majesty’s presence do not mention His Majesty Myunn." The dragon whispered, then rose back to his full height before drawing his hands back behind his back.
Waylen didn’t reply but nodded in agreement. He’d already made at least one mention of His Majesty today, but not to Her Majesty directly. There were other dragons that had mentioned him. The Queen must still be sore over his loss. It didn’t matter, as this was just another rule for him to follow, even if it was more a courtesy than a proper custom of the desert.
The servants finished arranging the table, then began to depart. Ser Lyrren invited him to sit in the provided chair until Her Majesty arrived, and Waylen took a seat. The dragon then began to walk a slow circle around the table to check that every plate, cup, and utensil was in its proper, but also incorrect, place. Waylen watched as tiny adjustments we made to the utensils resting on the table, and it appeared that there was nothing left to do but to wait.
“Ser Lyrren." He asked for the dragon’s attention, and once he had it, he asked what a whelp was.
The dragon tilted his head slightly to the side.
“A child, Your Highness. A little one." He was told.
Ah.
Their wait lasted for several long minutes until another knock arrived. The room had two doors, the one they’d entered from, and then a second located on the opposite side of the room in the corner. The knock came from that door and Ser Lyrren quickly went to answer it, the dragon’s speed was impressive as it was silly. Every servant he’d seen in the keep thus far all wore the same robe or dress ensemble, and like any woman trying to run in a dress, Ser Lyrren had to grab front of his robe to lift it above his ankles. He did not know why the male servants could not wear trousers like the soldiers and guards all did. At least with the soldiers it made sense for the women to dress as the men did considering their profession.
The dragon opened the door, spoke in his foreign tongue to another dragon across the threshold, then shut the door again after a brief moment.
“Her Majesty and her daughters are on their way, Your Highness." He told Waylen as he seemed to almost flee from the door to step around to Waylen’s side of the table.
He was urged to stand, so he did. Waylen watched as the dragon slid his chair back into place, so it was identical to the others, and then he was instructed to step back and to stand further away from the table. Ser Lyrren then stood next to him, faced the door and had Waylen do the same, before taking one single step backwards so that Waylen was in front.
Waylen understood and clasped his hands behind his back to wait patiently until Her Majesty arrived, at which point he would have to greet her again. If her behavior in the throne room was the worst she could do, then perhaps dinner would not be so terrible. Full bellies also had a habit of calming people down.
“Is there a proper way to greet Her Majesty when she arrives?" He asked.
“When they arrive, they will come to stand behind their chairs, do as they do, as they do it. As you are our guest, Her Majesty will greet you first, followed by her daughters. Address her as Her Majesty, and her daughters as Her Highness. This is a formal dinner. Rules will change with future meetings, and you will be instructed beforehand." The dragon replied from behind him, and Waylen nodded. Simple.
There came another knock on the same door, but this time it was opened from the other side and two soldiers entered and positioned themselves to its either side while one held the door.
Her Majesty entered first, no longer clad in armor like she had been in the throne room but instead a finely tailored tunic and trousers. The Queen’s eyes locking onto his for a moment before darting to his left side where Ser Lyrren stood. Behind her were two other women, Princess Vienna who was then followed by the same pale ivory dragon he’d seen in the throne room. So that must have been the other daughter, Iolla, then. All three approached the table, and Waylen did as he’d been told and approached it himself with all four of them stopping behind their respective chairs. It felt strange doing things this way.
“Welcome, Prince Waylen." The Queen was curt in her language, her gaze once again locked onto his.
“Yes, welcome, Your Highness." Princess Vienna followed after her mother, drawing her fist up to offer him a salute. Like her mother, she was dressed in a tunic and trousers.
“It is good to meet you, as well, Your Highness." Princess Iolla then added with a nod, her hand lifting in a gentler salute than the one given by her sister. It looked like she was dressed the same as she had been in the throne room, wearing only a white and grey dress that flowed loosely down her body, giving her a graceful appearance.
The contrast between the two siblings was very stark.
“Thank you, Your Majesty. And thank you both, as well, I am glad to share a seat at your table tonight." He replied.
Her Majesty then gestured abruptly with her hand to the table before taking a step back and dragging the stool backwards with her foot in a boorish manner. Her daughters were both reaching down to grab their stools to draw them back. At his age, Waylen had only recently been gifted the respect of having a servant remove his chair for him, so the act of pulling out his own chair wasn’t anything foreign to him.
He pulled his chair back gently, then as the dragons all took their seats, he did the same.
Waylen couldn’t rely on Ser Lyrren anymore to advise him on how to proceed. Tradition told him to sit patiently at the table with his hands in his lap while they waited for dinner to arrive. Normally, there would be light conversation to idle the time away, but he didn’t know what was right or wrong anymore now that he knew the dragons were afraid of him inappropriately touching someone.
“Your father did not tell me he was sending you so early. Was he not aware the Festival is not until a month from now?" Her Majesty broke the silence, staring at him now.
Waylen took a moment to consider his reply. His father knew perfectly well when the Festival was being held, as it was always the same every year. It was just that Waylen was to spend as much time as he was able to examine Atina Nah’s military, and there was a concern that if he arrived too close to the Festival that he might be required to leave shortly after it was concluded. The only way to make sure that he had all the time he needed was to arrive early.
“As I understand it, Your Majesty, there was a fear that I would not arrive in time for the Festival. Since it has been so long since someone from my family has visited Anya Sur, my father’s advisors urged him to send me early, so that I would arrive with time to spare. I do not think we would need to leave so early in the future now that we know how many weeks of travel it will take for a group as large as mine to make the trip." Waylen replied and was relieved that she did not cut him off this time like she had in the throne room.
Her Majesty did not so much as reply, but rather made a quiet grunt in her throat while she sat with her arms crossed.
“How many weeks did it take for you to arrive?" Princess Iolla asked him.
Her voice reminded him of Eldest Thalla’s. It was deep, as appeared to be normal for female dragons, but like the Eldest’s it was quite soft. More so than her sister’s or mother’s, at least. Waylen had to wonder if this was intentional, since it seemed every woman that was a soldier appeared to be putting more strength into their voices than the dragons that were not.
Both Princesses were sitting across from him with Her Majesty seated at the head of the table to his left. All three women had their hands above the table. Princess Vienna was doing as her mother was, arms crossed over her chest, while Princess Iolla had hands clasped and resting on the edge of the table. He moved his hands to the edge of the table, just in case.
“Near to six weeks, Your Highness." He told her.
The dragon’s eyes widened, thankfully an expression that was not lost on him with their strange reptilian faces. Her sister then began to speak.
“Was this due to the number of guards and servants you brought? You would need considerable supplies to make a journey with so many people." She asked.
“I believe so, yes. We could have traveled more lightly but Her Majesty Edlyn Sundile, my mother, did not want me to travel with too few members of our royal service. There would have been even more members to my group if were not for my father’s word to stop it." He replied honestly.
His mother had not been happy that her only son was being sent to Anya Sur and had demanded initially that either Nyle or Parr be sent instead. His father silenced her quickly on that, refusing to budge as both his elder brothers had many reasons to stay in the Kingdom. They each had great responsibilities placed upon them and served their father daily.
Waylen was the only son that had less value to the Kingdom, and his sister Lynn had not been considered even once for the journey. Not even his mother suggested that. So, it came to Waylen to travel the six weeks by carriage while his mother stressed and fretted over every detail. She would have sent as many as thirty or more people with them, but his father had long learned when to listen to her and when to not.
Had they traveled more lightly than twenty people then perhaps they could have shaved a week off their trip, though he didn’t know if that would have made it any more or less pleasant. After you cross the line of a month of travel, the only thing that could make it better is for it to end.
“We barely have the room for the ones you brought with you. Your service numbers at twenty. We would have needed to house some of them in other parts of the Keep." Princess Vienna replied.
Waylen had not yet seen the room that the male servants and guards were to use, so he took the dragon at her word. With the Keep being so large there were surely other rooms to accommodate guests, but they were likely just as austere as all the rest. The only rooms that were nice were probably the ones Waylen would be staying in.
“When is it being served?" Her Majesty interrupted them, her head turning to the side, and presumably to look at Ser Lyrren.
There was a rapid shuffling of feet and when Waylen turned his head to follow the noise, and then he watched as the dragon hurried towards the door they both entered from. The dragon then made a hasty exit.
“I was not told what we would be eating tonight." Waylen decided to turn the conversation towards their upcoming meal.
Her Majesty turned her gaze back to him, then began to curtly answer, listing out a handful of dishes, all of which were foreign to him. It did not sound like she was speaking Radian with how many of the names seemed to be from her native language.
“I do not think I have ever heard of these dishes before." He replied.
“Valli would be a kind of stew, Your Highness, and ton is a type of bread." Princess Iolla replied, explaining two of the items Her Majesty had listed.
“What would he call meelish?" She asked of her sister, who turned to look at her with a thoughtful look.
“Balls of meat." Her Majesty answered her instead.
“We would just say meatballs in Radian." He volunteered.
“Which is what I said." She replied curtly, and Waylen drew in a quiet breath.
Her Majesty’s attitude gave him a growing fear. Conversations were going to be difficult to navigate with her, considering how short she was with her words. Princess Iolla shifted in her seat. By Waylen best guess, both sisters looked uncomfortable as he tried translating their body language into something he understood. Princess Iolla then carried on with her explanation of dinner.
“Picti nef is alcohol. We did not know what alcohol you would prefer to drink so we had asked that different selections be brought for you to taste. Picti nef is one, and the other is unni nef. The first is brewed from a plant we call picti, and the other is made from what I think you call honey in Radian." Princess Iolla explained.
“There will be wine." Her Majesty interrupted her daughter again.
“I would be happy to try picti and unni." He replied, hoping he pronounced the words correctly.
He didn’t know what to expect of the picti drink, but if the other was made from honey, then perhaps it was like a kind of mead. That would be pleasant, though he was wondering what sort of wine they would have here. He was more accustomed to drinking different kinds of wine since there were many vineyards in Radiah that produced an assortment of grapes.
A knock came from the door again, and every head swiveled to watch as Ser Lyrren returned through the doorway. The dragon then gestured violently with his hand and one of the guards took the door from him and opened the door even wider.
A small troupe of servants began to file inside, each pushing a serving cart under Ser Lyrren’s silent direction. As Waylen watched he began to piece together something he thought was true about Her Majesty’s servants. So far, he’d only seen two of them wear pure white, and those were Eldest Thalla Fah Kah’Seh and then Ser Lyrren Er Yot’Ah. All the rest appeared to be wearing gray. Perhaps this was their way of showing status if you were not a soldier? Just the color of their attire?
Ser Lyrren was the only one to wear red though. Eldest Thalla didn’t even have that so he was not sure what significance the red cloth wrap might have held.
He could smell the food once the carts came to a stop beside the empty side of the table. Metal lids were removed from over their dishes and the scent began to hit him even harder. Suddenly, he was very hungry despite not knowing anything about what he was about to be served.
A large metal trough, almost like a miniature tub for bathing, was carefully placed in the middle of the table between them all, and within it was a dark gravy-like substance. It was almost black with lumps of chopped mystery floating within it.
Then a wide and shallow bowl was produced, filled to the brim with a steaming pile of what were clearly meatballs, fully covered with a thick layer of white gravy. Everyone waited as the rest of their meal was carefully produced from the carts. Two whicker-like baskets of small puffy dinner rolls were brought and placed at either side of the table next to the trough of stew and the bowl of meatballs. The final dish presented was a handful of narrow serving trays laden with strange, long strips of some kind of vegetable. They looked too large to be stalks of celery, but much too pale. They appeared to be steamed.
Once the food had been served all the carts were taken away except for one, and then the servants each took their exit except for Ser Lyrren who remained. The guards shut the door once everyone else had left. Ser Lyrren approached the last serving cart, and then began to remove from it several jugs and bottles.
Waylen patiently waited for the drinks to be served. Both Princesses asked for the ‘unni’ which was served from a large brown jug that looked similar to a gourd that had been made into a container. The liquid that flowed from the spout was almost gold in color.
Without asking him, Ser Lyrren filled an extra glass halfway with unni, and then once the jug was put away a second glass was removed from the cart along with a polished clay bottle. The dragon filled the second glass halfway and what came from it must have been the picti, as it was obviously not the color of any wine Waylen had seen. It was a cloudy pale color like watered down milk.
Ser Lyrren then took up both glasses and walked around to serve them, setting each down next to his empty glass.
“This is unni nef, Your Highness, and this is picti nef." The dragon quietly explained before stepping away to return to the serving cart.
Waylen was eager to try both, and then to sample the food in front of him. He’d been told that there would be a feast, but the offering of food on the table seemed much less impressive than his imagination had led to him expect. Back home in Radiah feasts were always decadent displays of waste. The kitchens would be told to serve so much food that no guest could possibly eat it all, and there was always leftover food sent back to the kitchens, which were then eaten by whatever household staff that wanted it.
“This is valli, and that is meelish." Princess Iolla volunteered, pointing a finger at each dish, first the trough of stew and then to the meatballs slathered in gravy. Both looked familiar as food but also foreign.
As she continued by pointing out the ton, which were the bread rolls, Ser Lyrren produced a bottle of wine from the cart and popped it open. Waylen could see that it was a bottle from Radiah with a wax seal pressed onto the side marking it as a bottle sourced from one of his family’s own wineries. If he didn’t like the local drink, then he could at least enjoy the import.
“The vegetables here we call plekt. They are always served fresh from the fields and are very sweet." Her Highness finished, pointing to the narrow trays of steamed veg.
Ser Lyrren approached Her Majesty with the bottle and then began to fill her glass. He had to suppress his surprise as the glass continued to be filled until it was so full it threatened to overflow. The dragon stopped just short of creating a mess, then moved around the table with the bottle to fill his.
“That’s enough, thank you." He had to tell the dragon before his own glass could be overfilled.
Her Majesty had already started drinking hers, downing a full quarter of the wine before anyone else at the table could touch their own.
“We can eat now." Her Majesty said, then immediately reached across the table to grab a handful of the meatballs with her bare hands.
As Waylen watched Her Majesty, he could not bring himself to do as she did. Whatever etiquette existed at their dinner table was clearly nothing like what he was familiar with. Instead, he selected the appropriate fork in front of him, and then used it to pluck a single meatball from the bowl.
He delivered it to his plate, then sought out a second. Along with the plates that had been brought to the table, there were small bowls, and fortunately a large serving spoon came with the trough of stew. As he began to serve himself with the spoon, delivering stew to the small bowl, both Princesses seemed to notice the difference between his and their mother’s bare-handed advances on the meatballs and dinner rolls.
Waylen couldn’t help but notice their awkward attempts to use their own forks to move food to their plates, mimicking him as he finished filling his bowl with valli.
Her Majesty picked up her empty bowl and handed it to him. Traditionally, a servant would be the one to fill any bowl, but this was apparently not how things were done here in the desert. He’d been a servant himself, in a way, as all children were, so he carefully took the bowl from Her Majesty and filled hers with stew as he’d done with his own, then returned it back to her.
The Queen was curt in everything that she did and spoke very little now that it was time to eat. He reached across the table to offer the serving spoon to Princess Iolla, who took it with a polite nod, and then she and her sister each took turns filling their own bowls.
Her Majesty did not use a spoon to eat her stew, but simply lifted the rim of the bowl to her lips before tipping it back like she was drinking from a glass. Waylen selected the appropriate utensil from the assortment in front of him and did his best not to stare as she ate with little regard to table manners. It was not his place to tell Her Majesty how to eat at her own table, but the shock of how dinner was unfolding was as surprising as everything else he’d encountered today.
He dipped his spoon into the near black gravy and lifted out what looked like a chunk of meat. When he took that first bite his tongue was treated to a battlefield of salty and sweet. The gravy a mix of flavors, and behind the two strongest contenders was a third. As he chewed the meat, from what animal he could not tell, there were notes of some kind of strange tanginess.
After his swallow he took another spoonful, but with a chunk of vegetable this time, and tried again. The same flavors, all of which were very intense, exploded over his tongue in much the same way. Valli was a very rich dish, similar to what he might have expected from some beef stews he’d eaten back home. But beef stew was savory, salty. Valli was thicker with too much sweetness, and then there was the undercurrent of tang he couldn’t place. He had no idea what ingredient would create such a flavor, and the meat did not taste like beef, and it was neither light nor dark like fowl.
“What meat was used in the valli?" He asked.
“Camel." Her Majesty replied.
The mental image of those ugly, spitting, things filled his mind and he decided to put his spoon down so he might venture to the other items on his plate.
“It’s not often we serve camel, but for special occasions we will slaughter a few for feasts. Valli is normally cooked with rabbit, but out in the city many will also use mice as its cheaper." Princess Iolla told him.
Mice? At least the rabbit would have been acceptable, but rodent! He politely nodded in thanks, hiding his disgust that the people here would eat such a thing. He would have to find a way to politely ask that he nor his entourage be served anything with rodent in it.
“How do you find the valli?" Princess Vienna asked him.
“It is a very strong blend of flavors. I do not think we serve anything like this in Radiah, but I find it to my liking." He lied, the camel being the reason he was reluctant to try any more.
His lie was taken as truth, with the two daughters eating as well as they could manage with their utensils while their mother did as she must have done under any other circumstance. She’d already devoured her meelish and was reaching for more to put onto her plate.
With his fork he cut one of the meatballs in half and stabbed one side, then popped it into his mouth. The meat was salty, but the gravy was very creamy like butter. This dish suited his tastebuds a lot better than the valli, but he suspected that it was likely made with camel meat as there were similar notes between the two dishes that undoubtedly were coming from the meat itself. He wasn’t going to ruin his dinner by asking about its source.
“The meelish is very good." He told them with a smile, making sure they understood that it was to his liking.
“We are very glad. Most of our own meals are quite modest, so it is always nice when we get to enjoy the extravagant." Princess Vienna spoke up.
This was considered extravagant? And what then would a modest royal meal look like? Perhaps rabbit instead of camel, but what else would change? There was not much variety here on the table! He took up his first ton and popped the bread roll into his mouth. It tasted like bread, with a hint of butter and a tiny bit of salt. Perfectly acceptable!
“Ton is best when eaten with gravy and sauce, Your Highness." Princess Iolla educated him by lifting one of her own dinner rolls, which she’d drug through her plate to catch a heap of gravy.
He did the same and found that to his liking as well. The creamy gravy from the meelish went well with the bread. It was then that Princess Vienna made a subtle noise in her throat, which caught her sister’s attention. There was a silent back and forth between them with their eyes.
Princess Iolla then turned her attention back to her meal before her sister began to speak in her place.
“Since there is a wealth of time between now and the Festival, I felt it wise to explore ways to keep you occupied during your stay. We seldom plan activities in the Keep, but you are welcome to share meals with any of us." Princess Vienna told him, which was a good sign!
At least the Princesses were both polite.
“Of course, I would enjoy that very much." He told her.
“He will be the first to meet Karo." Princess Iolla said to her sister.
Princess Vienna then seemed to light up, actually smiling.
“Yes! And Hait, too!" She said, looking back over to her sister.
Waylen felt a tiny bit more welcome now that he was watching two dragons become animated over what he presumed were two men? He wasn’t aware that either of them had husbands or children.
“Is it known to you that Iolla has recently taken an et’nol?" Princess Vienna turned back to him to ask.
“He will not know et’nol." Her Majesty replied with irritation before anyone else could say anything more.
“He does not speak Atinan." She continued, then glanced at him with an explanation. “Et’nol is future husband or wife. What you call fiancé."
“No, Your Majesty, I was not aware." He replied, then turned his attention back to Princess Iolla.
“Congratulations to you!" He said to the Princess, who smiled in reply. Finally, he found something that felt distinctly normal in the desert!
Women did like talking of men and marriage, and if they were excitedly telling him about both then that was a good sign! He turned his attention from her and back to Princess Vienna since he didn’t know anything about the other man they talked about.
“May I ask who Karo is?" He asked her.
She tilted her then in a similar manner to how he’d seen Her Majesty do, but her expression wasn’t of irritation but confusion.
“Karo is my husband, Your Highness." She replied, her confusion giving way to offense now that it was clear Waylen had no idea she’d even married.
His heart started to beat faster with panic, as the dinner had only just started to go well! This wasn’t good, as a marriage like this wasn’t something you could afford to overlook! Why had no one in Radiah thought to tell him that the heir to Atina Nah’s throne had married? Did no one know in all of Illian? Surely something this important wouldn’t have slipped someone’s mind considering everything else he’d been told before he’d been sent to the desert!
Princess Vienna then looked to her mother and began to say something in Atinan that he couldn’t understand.
“You can speak Radian, Vienna!" Her Majesty interrupted her with a shout, startling him but not her daughters. “Do not sit at the table and speak what he cannot understand."
He began to hold his breath as he stared at both of them. The table was suddenly thick with tension, tight in the air as both women stared at each other until the Princess nodded once in compliance and turned her eyes back to Waylen. He didn’t want anyone’s gaze on him right now, and he had no idea how to act.
“My apologies, Your Highness." She told him, giving him a curt nod.
It did not seem like Her Majesty enjoyed talking any more than necessary, but when she did was it always this uncomfortable? Certainly not just for him, too, it seemed. The only good thing to come of this was that he now knew there was a rule that they were to speak in Radian when they were in his presence, or at least at the dinner table.
“I have been married for seven years. That is not such a long time for someone to forget." Princess Vienna replied, revealing she was indeed very offended. Waylen started to bite the side of his tongue as it was the only thing he could do that no one could notice. He wanted to kick himself, and then kick everyone that was responsible for preparing him for this trip!
Her Majesty, looking frustrated, picked up her now empty bowl and shoved it in Waylen’s direction.
“It’s been eight, Vienna. Keep your calendar better." She replied to her daughter, shaking the bowl with irritation until Waylen quickly took it from her. That was when he noticed his hands were shaking.
He almost felt right at home and ten years younger with how he was being told what to do by an ill-tempered mother who had just shouted at the table. At least he wasn’t the victim this time. As he began to refill the bowl for Her Majesty her daughter apologized to her mother for her failure to recall the number of years she’d been married. Well, at least Her Majesty was the type of mother to remember it for you.
“I was not told that either of you were married or to be married. I apologize if I’ve caused any offense. It was not intended." He found his voice, apologizing as he quickly scooped more valli into Her Majesty’s bowl before handing it back to her.
“I did not send word to Radiah that either of them was married or soon to be." Her Majesty told him as she reached to take the bowl back from him.
She then lifted her now empty glass of wine and shook it at Ser Lyrren, who began to move quickly to refill her glass.
Both of her daughters were staring at their mother with looks of surprise on their faces, and now so was Waylen. Why would she not tell Radiah her daughter had gotten married? This was only his first day in Anya Sur and yet he was already feeling like his father had been very wise to send someone after so long, although he badly wished it had been one of his brothers instead!
It was not expected that a kingdom would share all of its secrets, or even their day-to-day affairs, but it was a common custom to send a letter if someone was getting married or having a child. Waylen was sure that his father had sent word that his eldest brother had gotten married, and then the same for his sister. Nyle had married nearly a decade ago, and his sister had married maybe three years ago now.
How was he supposed to reply to that, his mind scrambling for something to say. Ser Lyrren stepped around to his right side and offered to add more to his glass. He nodded that he could.
“If I had known, I could have brought gifts for you and your husband, Your Highness, if that is a custom you follow." He replied, not knowing what else to say.
“I did not attend your brother’s ceremony, even though I was invited. It would have been rude to invite your family to Vienna’s." Her Majesty finally offered an explanation, then tipped her glass back to down half of its contents.
“You could have still told them I had married!" Her daughter replied, now redirecting her anger at her own mother.
“Stop." Her Majesty glared at her, then took another large gulp from her glass before shaking it for Ser Lyrren to come and refill it again.
Her daughter did stop, visibly drawing in a breath before choosing to say nothing more while her sister stared down at her plate to focus on eating. Ser Lyrren reappeared at her side, refilled Her Majesty’s glass until the bottle had only drops left to give. Waylen watched as he stepped away and returned the now empty bottle to the cart and was then surprised to see the dragon retrieve a fresh bottle. He didn’t open it, but instead cradled it in his arms and returned to standing a polite distance away from the table as if he knew he’d soon be opening that one, too.
Did she always drink so heavily?
Her Majesty resumed her eating, and the air around the table was so uncomfortable. He kept telling himself that he was not to blame, but at the same time he felt like he was. He made himself eat what was left of his meal, including the valli he wasn’t so sure about. He’d had his share of uncomfortable meals before, so it wasn’t too difficult to focus on eating and drinking while everyone else did the same.
Her Majesty drained her glass again, but warded off Ser Lyrren before he could remove the cork from the bottle. She suddenly stood, both her daughters quickly pivoting their heads to their mother. They both made as if to stand, which left Waylen scrambling to join them.
“Sit!" She barked at them all.
Princess Iolla dropped back into her seat quickly, but her sister exhaled a sigh and sat back down in a more measured manner. He did the same.
“Eat. I have too much to do. Lyrren, ensure his return when he is finished." She told the dragon, gesturing a hand at Ser Lyrren before turning to leave through the same door she’d come from.
“Thank you for inviting me to dinner, Your Majesty." Waylen tried to offer a parting word to her backside as she approached the door.
All he got in return was a gesture of the hand, which seemed to be something she did often. Was this tradition or something particular to the Queen? He would have to figure that out and hopefully soon, especially if it was going to be an indicator of how foul her mood might be.
One of the guards by the doorway opened it for her, and she said something in their foreign tongue, which prompted both guards to follow her out the door. Princess Vienna reached her hand out and grabbed two meelish from the bowl, bare handed like her mother had done before, then dropped them onto her plate.
“Welcome to Anya Sur, Your Highness." She told him with a frown, and even on her reptilian face, her expression was one he felt an unfortunate kinship with regarding his own mother.
“Thank you." He replied, his voice quiet.
No one bothered to refill their plates after that, nor their glasses, and their dinner ended a short while later with Princess Vienna being the first to excuse herself, and then her sister who seemed to do so like it was a hasty retreat.
“I can return you to your rooms whenever you would like, Your Highness." Ser Lyrren then told him. He was the only other person left in the room with him.
“Thank you, Ser Lyrren." He replied, then looked over at his untouched glasses of picti and unni.
Ser Lyrren was perceptive enough to know that Waylen didn’t have the stomach to drink anything else tonight and volunteered to have bottles of both to be brought to his rooms for him to try later, and then asked if he was ready to leave. He told him that he was.
Ch. 07 Ch. 08 Ch. 09 Ch. 10 Ch. 11
The new trade route to Anya Sur from Radian is wonderful! I do not yet know why they are so fascinated by our glasswork, but they trade for it no differently than I’ve seen them devour food. I’ve seen the sort of glass they use, and its much lower quality than our own, so perhaps they admire ours for its strength? I know Edgard liked that all of our cups were made of glass, and I do not recall him ever furnishing glassware at his own dinner table. Everything they ate and drank from was made of metal. Yvvie can’t stand that they waste so much of their metal on things that could be made from something else.
Their glass may be poor, but what I can credit them for is how colorful they like to make it. They add dyes to the sand when they melt it into glass and use it to turn it all sorts of colors, much like how I would have done with fabric. In some of their largest buildings they even use colored glass like artwork, set within windows for all to see. We normally don’t do that with our glass, as leaving it pure and clear is much better. I gave examples of their colored glass to Thalla’s husband, and he seemed to think it’s all ugly, but I urged him to explore it with the other glassmiths he knows and see if there is a way to make our glass colorful, too, as it would make it more valuable to Radiah. We need more things to give them in exchange for what we want in return!
They might be willing to give away more of their goods if we can start bartering away colorful Atinan glass.
Like more chickens! The few we’ve gotten keep dying from the heat, as they were not meant to live in a place so hot as Atina Nah. It may be a fool’s errand, but we must try to cultivate Radian animals here, as so many of them are useful! Chickens produce meat and eggs, their cattle are good for meat and milk, and then they have pigs. The pigs seem to be only useful for slaughter, but many Radian dishes seem to contain what they kept calling pork, instead of pig. More examples of them having many words for the same thing!
If we can find more things the Radians want, then I think we will be more than capable of unlocking the secrets of turning Anya Sur into our own Illian. The southern road that guides all trade into Anya Sur is mostly barren for now, but one day I swear it will be teeming with life. I want it to look the same as when I rode into Illian that first day, hundreds of Radians all gathered to buy and sell all manner of goods. I want that for us!
Most of Atina Nah has already begun to think of Anya Sur as the beating heart of trade, but there is only so much trade worth doing when everything for sale can be found somewhere else. Anya Sur has few goods that can’t be sourced from another tribe. Our strength for now is volume, we simply have more of what everyone wants. My hope is that in time we won’t just have more goods, but we will have exclusive ownership of things that can be found nowhere else but here! Our trade with Radiah will be what gives Anya Sur its power.
He missed the sound of birdsong in the morning. Back in Illian, he woke up to it every day, the birds arriving outside his window before a servant could ever touch his door handle. They helped him out of bed every morning and he never realized how nice it was until it was gone. Atina Nah had birds, but none of them seemed to sing the same way the ones in Radiah did. They slept at different hours, flew to different winds.
And so, Waylen woke up on his second day in Anya Sur to silence. Had it not been for how exhausted he was the day before, and how wonderful sleeping in a real bed was, he might not have slept a wink from how anxious he’d been the night before. As soon as he’d returned to his rooms from yesterday’s failed dinner, he’d waved off everyone that wanted to know what happened. He just wanted to retreat to his bedroom and collapse.
At least he slept, and his legs felt much better. His body wasn’t aching like he’d expected it to, and all he had to worry about was just that. His worries. Looking around his room, he wasn’t sure what hour of the morning it was, since no one had come to wake him, and he had no means of discovering it himself without climbing out of bed to see.
Despite how cold it was in the room, the bed was keeping him warm, and he was very reluctant to leave it. It was only when he began to catch the aroma of food that he felt himself begin to stir. It was the scent of salty bacon, and what he was certain had to be eggs. If breakfast was being prepared but no one had come to wake him, then that meant Marissa had decided to let him sleep for as long as he wanted.
He twisted himself under the covers until he stuck one leg out from under the blanket. The cold air made him flinch, and when he threw the covers off himself to stand, he shivered from head to toe. He had to quickly run to the wardrobe, feet clapping across the wooden floor. Most of his clothing had already been hung in the wardrobe so he pulled out a long woolen robe and wrapped himself inside it, drawing the cloth belt tight around his waist to secure it shut. He found his slippers sitting near the wall alongside his other footwear and quickly slid his feet into them. They were cold, but it was a sight better than the bare floor.
When he emerged into the drawing room the smell of breakfast cooking was heavy in the air. It was warmer in the drawing room than his bedroom thanks to the iron stove in the corner of the room that was burning wood for heat. He was alone while Marissa and the others were no doubt in the kitchen preparing food for everyone.
He walked over to one of the windows and looked through the curtains, finding that the sun was only just beginning to crest on the horizon. It would start to warm up soon, and very quickly. He’d learned weeks ago that the hot and cold of the desert didn’t fight each other for very long. One was gone as soon as the other arrived, like they were always fleeing from one another.
He pushed the balcony door open and stepped outside, hugging himself against the cold, to perform the ritual he’d started ever since he’d first seen it. The balcony did not give him the best view of the distant desert, but standing at the edge of the balcony he squinted his eyes and looked out past the lake of Anya Sur, and its many curiously green fields.
Far beyond the outer wall of the city, he could see the sands of Atina Nah stretching out into the distance. He didn’t know what direction he was looking in, so he didn’t know from which direction the sun was going to rise. As cold as he was, he wanted to see it, since he’d not slept in so late that he’d missed the sunrise.
Several minutes passed and then he watched as a shimmering of light started to dance across the distant sand. Unfortunately, it wasn’t so brilliant a sight as what he’d grown accustomed to. Maybe it was because he was so far away, or maybe he was too high up in the air. The desert of Atina Nah had been given its name by the dragons that lived in it. Waylen couldn’t speak any Atinan, but Shane had told him that the name of the desert translated into Radian as ‘the silver sea’.
The shimmering of the sands continued for a time, and then it stopped. He sighed, disappointed. He wasn’t going to get to see the desert shimmer like he had when they were still traveling here. Every morning the light of sunrise would catch the sand just right, and then it would become almost like a mirror. It would blind you with its light, like staring into a sea of polished, gleaming metal. You could look all around you and feel like you were standing in a great sea of pure silver, and thus explaining how the desert got its name.
And then it would vanish. It only lasted a few minutes if you were fortunate.
“Waylen!" A woman’s voice startled him from behind.
He’d jumped nearly out of his skin and turned to see Marissa standing in the doorway. She was already stepping out to take him by the arm and pulling him back inside while scolding him for being on the balcony when it was still so cold outside.
She made him sit at the breakfast table while she quickly left to go back to the kitchen. She returned with Christa, who was then made to go fetch Codi from the men’s room across the hallway.
“I’ve got Margo fixing you a cup of tea! Breakfast, too, soon!" She told him as she left for his bedroom.
He was glad for both and then waited for a few minutes. Christa returned with Codi in tow, and Waylen watched the pair part ways with the young girl going back to the kitchen while Codi left for his bedroom. Soon after that Shane entered, bowing to him before shutting the door behind himself. Of course, the old man would be quick to come as soon as he knew Waylen was awake. He’d been the most eager to learn how dinner with Her Majesty had gone the night before.
“Good morning, Your Highness." Shane greeted him.
“Waylen!" Marissa called for him, looking out his door and seeing Shane had arrived.
She exited his room and brushed off the front of her dress.
“Your Highness, I’ve set out something for your change. Should be something more comfortable for when the day grows hot." She told him, adjusting her tone, now that she knew Shane was in the room with them.
“Good morning, Shane." He told the older man, then excused himself to his bedroom so he could change.
Codi helped him dress, most of the effort going into lacing his boots. Once he was done, Waylen was nicely dressed again in a fine tunic, though of lighter weight than the more formal ensemble he’d worn the previous day. Today’s outfit was thinner, lighter, and was the color of light beige. He looked at himself in the mirror that hung on the wall.
“You look quite good in it, Your Highness." Codi told him.
Waylen twisted himself in the mirror, looking at himself from a different angle. He wondered if he would be mistaken for a servant by the dragons with how pale in color he was dressed. Well, at least they’d think he was of high status, if he was right about the color of their clothing being important.
“I do, too." He agreed at last, and then turned to head back to the drawing room.
Codi got the door for him and followed him out. A cup of tea was waiting for him on the breakfast table along with a plate of bacon, toast, and eggs. He wasn’t sure where the eggs had come from, since they’d not taken any chickens with them on their trip.
Shane had waited for him at the table, and when he sat down in front of his plate he asked where Marissa had gone to. Shane told him she’d gone back to the kitchen. Waylen then told Codi to ask her where the eggs had come from. He assumed somewhere in the city; he just hoped it was from a chicken and not some strange animal. He was very grateful that camels were not capable of laying eggs.
He started to eat, and Codi returned to say that the eggs had been provided by one of the Queen’s kitchens. Much of their current kitchen stock was provided by Her Majesty, it seemed.
“Did last night’s dinner go poorly?" Shane finally asked him.
Waylen stabbed one end of a thick slice of bacon, then folded it over to stab it again, before doing so a third time until he had the entire strip skewered on the end of his fork. His plate had been drizzled with some kind of syrup, so he drug the bacon across the plate to gather up as much of it as he could, then popped it in all his mouth. The combination of salted, tender pork smothered in sugary sweetness was just what he needed after yesterday.
And he was in no hurry to answer the question.
Christa and Margo then exited the kitchen, each pushing a small serving cart. Waylen ignored Shane in favor of watching them. Marissa followed them out, then rushed around them to reach the front door before they could so she could open it for them. They must be bringing food to the men in the other room judging by how full the carts appeared to be.
“Can it wait until after I’ve eaten?" He asked after they’d all left.
“The longer you delay the more I fear it must have been a disaster." The older man replied.
Waylen sighed, started gnawing on the side of his tongue as he leaned back in his chair. He licked the syrup off his teeth, then washed his previous bite down with a sip of his tea.
“Did you know that Princess Vienna has taken a husband, and that Princess Iolla is now engaged?" Waylen answered Shane’s question with one of his own.
The other man furled his brow, looking at him thoughtfully for a moment.
“No, I was not aware. Is this news a recent development?" He asked in return, questions for questions.
“Princess Vienna has been married for eight years, Shane. She and her sister both mentioned a male dragon by name, and because I was not aware that the Heir to the throne was married, I made the mistake of asking who she was talking about. She then understandably became very offended when she realized I did not know her husband’s name." Waylen replied, and Shane rocked back in his own chair looking startled.
For a moment the old man looked at the table, then the floor, his eyes moving silently like he was sifting for something in his thoughts. Waylen ignored him and let the man stew for a moment while he slid his fork through the egg and pierced the yolk, spilling yellow across the plate like blood. He tore off a piece of toast and sopped up some of the egg, then ate it.
“It is not possible for us to have missed such a thing! There’s correspondence between your father… We have letters from Her Majesty, dozens and dozens of them all going back years! Nothing about her daughter being married was in them." Shane replied at last, exasperated and frustrated.
“That’s because she didn’t tell us on purpose." He replied, leaving the other man looking even more shocked, and so he continued his explanation.
“Father invited her to attend Nyle’s wedding, but since she did not attend, she felt that it would have been rude to tell us that Vienna had married." He explained.
“She told you this?" He asked to which Waylen nodded in reply while stabbing the next slice of bacon.
The other man began to fidget in his seat with frustration.
“If she’s not telling us this then what else are we not being told? How little do we know!" He was agitated now, visibly growing angry to cover up his concern.
“I was asking myself that while Her Majesty and Princess Vienna got into an argument at the dinner table. The Queen excused herself first, then Princess Vienna, and then Princess Iolla shortly after that. It was a very uncomfortable room to be in." Waylen replied.
“I hope the argument was not directed at you! At your or our expense?" Shane asked.
“To my eyes, it seemed that they were angry at each other, or more so just Her Majesty and her eldest. Princess Iolla kept herself mostly neutral." He told him.
Shane exhaled a deep sigh.
“Go have breakfast, Shane. We have plenty of time to sort everything out." He told the older man.
Reluctantly the older man began to stand, nodding his head. He departed out the door, and then Waylen resumed eating his breakfast. He took his time, and once his plate was clean, he patiently sipped at his tea while he watched the sun rise through the window. It was already starting to warm up.
The women soon returned with their carts. Marissa sent Christa to check on him, and he requested a fresh cup of tea which she went to fetch. Marissa was the one to return with it.
“While we were out serving the men, that dragon came. The tall skinny one." She told him, setting his tea down on the table for him.
“Ser Lyrren Er Yot’Ah." He replied, carefully enunciating from memory the dragon’s full name.
“That was his name." She replied, then took a seat across from him, the one Shane had occupied not so long ago.
“What did he come to say, or do?" He asked.
“He explained to me, since Shane was with you, that you would not be needed for anything for now. It sounds like they expect you to stay in your room and rest until they decide to change their minds." She told him.
“That sounds nice, until I grow restless." He replied.
“The men are already restless! Have you seen their room? All of them packed together with nothing to do. I think they were expecting a chance to walk around to patrol a hallway or something, but it seems like they are being kept there to be alone with their boredom." She replied.
“We’re going to be here for a long time." He reminded her.
Waylen didn’t have any suggestions for what the men could to do pass the time. This was not Castle Illian, so they could not just go about the Keep as they pleased, and it did not seem for the moment that the guards outside would give up their posts in favor of Waylen’s guards. It seemed like Her Majesty had expected him to arrive unguarded with how many of her soldiers were scattered all through the Keep.
“Me and the girls, we at least have more space in the kitchen and in the little side room with our bunks. We’ll be cooking and cleaning so at least we won’t go stir-crazy. I don’t know how well they will do, being a bunch of men accustomed to better." She warned him, and he sighed.
“I suppose it would be good if the Captain thought of ways to keep them all busy. For now, I’m not quite certain what any of us are allowed to do." Waylen replied, and Marissa nodded to him, saying she’d tell Landon just that.
“Shane did not look happy when he came to breakfast. I already knew that dinner must have been terrible if it made you want to rush to bed. Was it that bad?" She changed the subject to last night.
“It was. I discovered last night that Her Majesty has been keeping secrets from us. Her eldest daughter has been married for eight years, and the younger one is now engaged. Her excuse is that it would have been rude to tell us, since she did not attend Nyle’s wedding." Waylen explained.
And Lynn’s, too, he thought. Father would have sent letters about her engagement and marriage, as well. Marissa took the news better than Shane had.
“I can perhaps see how she might think it rude, but she is still the Queen. A woman of her status should be far above fears of rudeness when it comes to matters of state. She should have sent a letter that her daughters were soon to take husbands." She replied.
“I agree." He replied.
“That couldn’t be all?" She asked him then.
He began to describe the rest of the dinner, starting from the beginning. She got more out of him than Shane had, partly because he was no longer eating, and partly because he felt more comfortable talking to Marissa about anything that was uncomfortable. When he told her the news that the dragons had thought he was going to make a fool of himself because he dared to take Eldest Thalla by the hand… Well, that shocked her more than anything else did.
“Ridiculous! It was a mistake and you’re a grown man. Between the Captain saying they put on a show to intimidate you, and everything else… Ridiculous!" Now she was upset.
Margo emerged from the kitchen with a water pitcher and made her exit through the front door.
“We have water in the kitchen?" He asked, wondering where everything was coming from between his tea and the pitchers of water being served to the men in the other room.
“There is a large barrel in the kitchen. It used to be a wine barrel, a very old one from one of our vineyards, but now it just holds water. While you were with Her Majesty in the throne room the giant blue woman told us that fresh water would be brought daily to refill the barrel. We are to also water the plants outside during the day at every hour, otherwise they will quickly die." She explained to him.
“Eldest Thalla Fah Kah’Seh." He reminded her, reciting her name from memory, both for her and himself. He’d made enough mistakes already so he did not want to risk anymore by forgetting anyone’s name.
“That one." She replied.
“I hope you remember their names when they visit." He smiled at her.
“Oh, I will remember." She replied, and then he explained to her not to use their full name more than once a day. Only for the first greeting, and then after that only use their title and first name.
She looked frustrated by the odd rules but nodded that she understood and would do her best to remember.
“We should show them hospitality of our own, if only to shame them for their lack of it." She told him suddenly.
“They have shown us hospitality, Marissa, despite a sour dinner." He told her, lifting his hand and gesturing to the fine room they were in.
She leaned forward and tapped the tabletop with both her hands.
“Here, Waylen. They gave you a horrible dinner, so we should give them a great one right here. You said the eldest one, Vienna, offered an invitation to eat with them? We can invite them to dinner here, we just need a bigger table! We can have them come here, and me and girls will cook a proper feast and serve them rightly!" She suggested firmly.
He thought about it, then nodded. That was actually a very good idea.
“I like it, but I don’t think it would be smart to thumb our noses at them so soon. We should wait a few days." He told her, and she nodded in agreement.
“In the meantime, I can see what sort of feast our kitchen can be made to prepare." She replied and then picked herself up out of her chair to make her way to the kitchen.
Waylen continued to watch the sun slowly rise until he’d finished his morning tea, and then he tried to take advantage of the luxury of time the dragons had gifted him. If he were at home, he’d have any number of things to do, and all of it dictated by his mother’s whims. Here in Anya Sur, he had no duties or responsibilities to attend to apart from simply recovering from his trip and thinking of how to make his father happy. After several hours of having nothing to do he began to realize that restlessness would be a problem for them all.
It’s becoming so much more difficult now with so many Radians coming to Anya Sur. It was easy enough to navigate a conversation with Edgard and his family, and even with some of his advisors, but that’s still a very small number of people. Now, we have so many merchants coming here and not a single one speaks Atinan very well, and we still do not speak Radian as well as we should!
I can speak it better than Yvvie, I think, but between the two of us we are far more keen at it than any other Atinan in Anya Sur. Even the merchants among us that have long traded with Radians are terrible at speaking their tongue, as both they and the Radians will just speak to each other like newborn whelps. They point to what they want and make a noise, and somehow, they all understand each other’s gibberish.
Well, I do not admire nonsense like that. Yvvie hates me for this, I know, but I’m making her help me. We sit and speak in Radian whenever we gather together with our advisers, merchants, and anyone else that wants to learn. I’ve asked Thalla to learn it with us. She commands a great deal of respect within the city, and her husband Erram is well respected in his trade, so many more are now asking for ways to learn if only for the chance to get close to us.
It's important that I explore every means to get more of us to learn their language. We here in Atina Nah, we’ve long carved our words into stone or stitched it into cloth. But in Raidah, they make paper, thin like the finest cloth I’ve ever seen and pale like the whites of the eyes. They use ink to write on it. Like many things in Radiah, paper is fragile, but it is comfortable. Easy to carry, to store, and even easier to bind into a bundle that they call books.
As a gift to us from Queen Heron, Edgard wife, I was given three of these books. Each was thick as my palm measured from palm to back and protected by two hard shells that the Radians call ‘covers’. I do not know how they make these things, but they were filled with so many of their words, so many dozens of pages of Radian script! I can’t read them yet, but I intent to learn, and I will make Yvvie read them, too.
The Radians have so much more to offer us than we do in return, and so I think it would be a powerful gesture if we learn their tongue as well as they do, and to wield it in front of them as if we were born to it! To speak it, to read it, to write it. They won’t sell us their chickens any cheaper for it, I’m sure, but it will be a gesture that shows them that we are earnest.
And Edgard likes talking to Yvvie, but always about military matters. I think he is keen on making sure that Darfell is kept frightened. I would think that job was long since done, but the more I listen to him talk of Darfell the more I realize the hatred he has for them is much like the hatred Yvvie and I both hold in our own hearts. I am learning to let go of it, but Yvvie’s grip is far too tight.
Perhaps if I learn to speak Radian as well as Edgard, then I might join them in their conversations more often and speak sense and reason should either of them think of starting another war. There’s so much anger left in Yvvie that she might ignore a chance for peace if strife came knocking at our door. I have to convince her to let go. She cannot keep her fists clenched forever.
The following day left Waylen feeling anxious. There was a part of him that was afraid he was wasting valuable time, and another part simply wanted something to do. He normally had a lot to do when he was at Castle Illian, be it tutoring, or some other task set out for him by his mother. But here in Atina Nah there was simply nothing on his agenda.
A few hours after he woke and had breakfast, he asked Shane to tell the dragons outside that he wanted to speak with Ser Lyrren. He needed something to do, something to make him feel productive.
At the very least he could ask to be shown more of the Keep. He’d only been taken to see a few places so far, but he knew there was so much more to see. Castle Illian had dozens upon dozens of rooms that served all manners of roles. He wanted to investigate their military like his father wanted, but he felt too sheepish to push for it so soon. He had no reason to believe the dragons suspected he had an ulterior motive for coming to attend the Festival of Founding, but the fear of it was still there, and so he hesitated.
A half an hour later and the tall grey dragon appeared at his doorstep, dressed again in the long white robe he’d worn the day before, complete with its red scarf that hung loosely around his neck.
“How may I help you, Your Highness?" Ser Lyrren asked him with his familiar smile.
This one liked showing his teeth when he smiled, but he couldn’t figure out if it was exclusive to Ser Lyrren or if perhaps it was because he was a male dragon. Her Majesty had prominent teeth, but they did not seem to show when she, well, she didn’t smile did she? Her daughters smiled, and neither of them made a show of their teeth. Nor had Eldest Thalla.
“I am restless, Ser Lyrren. I am happy that I have been given so much time to recover from my long journey, but I would like it more if someone could give me a tour of the Keep? I saw enough on my first day here to make me very curious to see more of Her Majesty’s home. I hope my request will not offend her?" He asked him, being careful to mention that he did not seek to cause any offense. He did not want a repeat of his first day in Anya Sur.
The slender dragon tilted his head at him then.
“What would you like to see?" He asked.
“Anything. I am at Her Majesty’s mercy, Ser Lyrren. I would be delighted to see anything that you might think I would find interesting or worthwhile." He replied, offering the dragon as much leeway as possible to meet Waylen’s request.
The dragon stared down at him for a moment, seemingly thoughtful with his head still at a tilt. Was the tilt of the head a common habit of dragons? Her Majesty and Princess Vienna had both done it, too.
“I shall ask for you, Your Highness. Please, excuse me." Ser Lyrren replied.
“Of course." Waylen told him. The dragon then bowed his head before turning to make his exit.
Waylen had expected this reaction, but he hoped that the result would be him receiving permission. He knew his father enjoyed putting the castle on display. It was the finest in all of Radiah and all of the noble families envied its construction. It was a castle many generations in the making, a work of labor and love that many in the royal household were eager to show off to any guest that came to visit.
He did not know if it would be minutes or hours before he received his answer. Shane and Landon both gave him input on what they thought Waylen should be looking to see, but he knew better. There was no need to rush to their guard houses nor their garrisons. For now, he would satisfy himself with just Her Majesty’s fortress, to get an understanding of her home. A few days from now he could begin to push to see more, to direct himself towards things that his father might find more valuable.
Ser Lyrren returned perhaps a half hour later to inform him that he could be shown the Keep at any time he found to his liking.
“Would now be good, if you have the time for me, Ser Lyrren?" He asked the dragon.
“My time is yours, Your Highness. We can leave at any moment of your choosing." Was the reply.
“Then let us go, I am excited to see what awaits me." Waylen told him with a smile, feeling grateful that something was finally going well for him.
The dragon nodded, then asked if there was anyone else in her party that he’d like to bring. It occurred to him to bring along Shane, but Waylen suspected a lot of walking was ahead of him and he decided against bringing him or anyone else. Whatever he learned he could share with them later over tea. He told the dragon it would just be him, and then he was asked to follow.
Margo was in the drawing room with him, so Waylen told her to inform Marissa and the others that he was leaving with Ser Lyrren to tour the Keep. Afterwards, he stepped out into the hall with the dragon leading the way. They stopped, and very briefly Ser Lyrren spoke with Sol Norra at the door in their native tongue, which led to the woman calling out what he assumed were two names. The first sounded like Ah-rit-ah and then the second sounded like No? With Sol Norra speaking her native tongue the accent was thicker and harder to follow.
Of the six dragons standing watch along the hallway, two stepped forward and approached. One was an auburn hued male, and the other a warm ochre female. It looked like they were to follow him and Ser Lyrren as they went about their tour. The pair stopped in front of them, then clapping their fists over their chests in salute.
“We may go now, Your Highness." Ser Lyrren then said. He lifted a hand for him to wait, Waylen looked at both of the dragons that had approached.
“Which of you is Ahrita and who is No?" He asked, hoping he had their names right.
The two dragons each wore a look of confusion, their eyes darting toward Ser Lyrren was now stepping close to Waylen’s side. He leaned down slightly to close the gap in height between them, then lifted a hand to point with a finger at the male.
“Sol Noll Er Tol’Ut." The dragon told him, correcting Waylen’s pronunciation before pointing to the female to do the same. “Sol Arita Fah Ger’Not."
“Both serve Sol Norra and were selected for service by Princess Vienna." He added, his weaker accent making it much easier to grasp their names.
“Thank you, Ser Lyrren. If they cannot speak Radian, please tell them that I am happy to have them as my guard today. If Princess Vienna chose them, then they have earned my trust." He told the dragon, letting this moment be a small, but hopefully memorable one for the many guards that were given to his service.
Small gestures were often the wisest ones, as he’d been told once by his eldest brother. When he’d been very little Nyle had told him that being nice to the servants often meant they might turn a blind eye to mischief if you were up to any. For a young boy this meant a great deal, but as a man his brother’s advice carried other meanings. If the servants all liked you, then they were much more willing to loyally serve you in whatever capacity you needed.
Ser Lyrren briskly spoke in their native language, the sound of his voice coarse to Waylen’s ear. Their language, the way they spoke, sounded aggressive even though it did not seem that they were being aggressive at all. The two dragons stiffened in place, then looked to Waylen. They each awkwardly seemed to nod their heads, tightening their fists over their chests. They were likely not expecting this, which was good, and they would remember this moment all the better because of it.
“Are you ready, Your Highness?" Ser Lyrren asked him then, and he told him that he was.
The dragon turned and began to lead the way, and Waylen followed with Ser Lyrren carefully watching his gait so that the two could walk side by side. The dragons, Arita and Gnoll followed behind them silently as they walked.
“I have no special request for what I am shown. I leave my journey to you, Ser Lyrren." Waylen spoke up.
“Your Highness, I had the chance to speak with Eldest Thalla Fah Kah’Seh, and she suggested several things to me. Where I am taking you now is very close to the great lobby you entered the Keep from on the day of your arrival." The dragon explained.
Waylen nodded and followed the dragon’s directions. Every so often the dragon would gesture with his hand any time they were to make a twist or a turn. He remembered some of these halls, and when they came to the large doorway that led back out to the massive set of steps leading up to the Keep’s main entrance, he remembered that if only for the ache they put into his legs. All while they walked, the dragon continued to list things he was planning to show him, such as the guest rooms Her Majesty had carved for any visitors. These rooms were mainly used by traveling dragons from other tribes.
He was not very familiar with the tribes of Atina Nah, but he did know that Anya Sur itself was considered a tribe by Atina Nah’s definition of it. There were dozens of tribes in the desert, and that’s all there used to be before Her Majesty conquered them all to bring them under her unified rule. He knew it was not quite the same, but when he’d first heard the history of Atina Nah it sounded to him like a great many noble houses had waged war against each other until one house came out on top, and then the victor crowned herself the Queen of Atina Nah.
“I would like to also show you the big kitchen. With how large the Keep is, there are multiple kitchens, but the one I will show you is the largest and is used for extra-large meals with many dragons attending. We will be using that kitchen to cook for this year’s banquet." The dragon continued to explain.
The dragon was spending a lot of time talking about the details of things Waylen was soon to be privileged enough to see. They were still walking towards their first destination and yet Ser Lyrren was enjoying the sound of his own voice describing all the places he was taking him on the tour. The dragon appeared to be very knowledgeable about the workings of Her Majesty’s Keep.
They finally reached the banquet hall, which was significantly more impressive than the small dining room he’d eaten dinner in with Her Majesty. It was a large rectangular room with four stone pillars helping to keep the stone ceiling from dropping on the half dozen wooden tables beneath it. By the number of chairs and stools in attendance Waylen expected the room to seat as many as fifty, even sixty souls. Long red banners hung across every wall, and the tables were bare of silverware, but red tablecloths were folded neatly into piles on each one, waiting to dress the tables.
“Much larger than Her Majesty’s dining room." He commented.
“Oh yes, this room is rarely used. Once a year for the Festival, and perhaps once or twice more for other matters. Her Majesty’s dining room was only carved to be as large as it needed to be. Not many meals are had there these days." The dragon replied, and while Waylen listened, he heard that word carved again.
He guessed it did make sense that they would have had to carve out every room and hallway, but he did not want to imagine how much time and effort that would have taken. The Keep was very large! It would have been a lot of effort to carve out so much from raw stone.
“How many are expected to attend this year’s banquet?" He asked, since as he understood it, the banquet was a big celebration where important dragons from all over the city and the tribes came to gather. It was just a big feast hosted by the Queen, and he doubted it would be any different from the ones his father would host in Ilian, but he had to bite his tongue to stop himself from making assumptions.
He couldn’t afford to assume anything after how his first day here had gone.
His question then provoked a very long answer where more than a few dozen names were spoken that held no meaning to him, but it was clear they were very important people. What was especially clear; however, was that Waylen’s attendance at this year’s Festival had not been common knowledge to Anya Sur, and so now that everyone in the city knew he was here, a large number of important figures in the city had begun asking for seats at Her Majesty’s table when previously they had not.
It was… Flattering that there were people eager to show face at the banquet just to be seen in the same room as him. This was rare, as everyone in Radiah knew Waylen’s status was far lower than a peasant would have been led to believe. To the common folk of Radiah, a Prince was a Prince! That was a powerful and important person!
But Waylen was the third in line to the throne, born to a mother who was the King’s second wife. Both his brothers and his sister were his half siblings. Everyone of nobility in Radiah knew that he held only a symbolic claim to his father’s throne. Even Lynn’s future sons would have a stronger tie to the throne than he would. This aggravated his mother to no end, as she spared no chance to tell him.
But here in a desert so far away, no one knew that. They might as well be Radian commoners, thinking that a Prince is a Prince, a powerful and important person! He smiled as Ser Lyrren continued to think of the names of people Waylen would soon come to meet in person, counting them one by one on his fingers. The dragon’s astute memory was actually quite impressive, as Waylen stopped counting the number of names once the dragon reached forty.
Once the dragon had exhausted himself with the banquet hall, he led Waylen to the big kitchen, where they spent considerably less time. It was indeed a large kitchen, but he wasn’t an expert on such things as he hardly knew what sort of kitchen Castle Illian even had. He had vague memories of sneaking into it once as a boy, but he had been quickly chased out by Marissa who had been trying to find him after he’d escaped from her care.
“You may not have found the kitchen that interesting, Your Highness, but perhaps the garrison will." The dragon surprised him, now leading him down a new hallway.
Waylen was suddenly very interested, the chance to see something of value dropping into his lap through no effort of his own!
“The Keep has its own garrison?" He asked.
“Oh, yes! It is on the western side. You would not have seen it when you arrived. It is not the largest in the city, but it need not be. The garrisons on the east and west sides of the city are more than enough for Anya Sur’s defense." The dragon explained with a wave of the hand.
“So, there’s only three of them for the entire city?" He asked, politely digging.
The dragon hummed.
“Yes, for what we would call a garrison. There are other places where soldiers dwell, but it is in those three places where every soldier answering the call lives and works until they are done." He answered.
“What do you mean by ‘answer the call’?" Waylen then asked.
“That is when someone in Her service is called to duty. Her Majesty does not keep her entire army in the garrisons at all times. Many of our soldiers also work in the trades or the fields when they are not answering her call. I am not well versed in all of those matters, but I believe our soldiers rotate in groups of three. While one groups answers the call the rest do other things." Ser Lyrren told him, then stopped walking.
Since he stopped, Waylen stopped, and then he watched as the dragon turned his head to quickly say something in Atinan to the two dragons following them. The pair responded, leading to another brief statement from Ser Lyrren, who then smiled and turned his head back to Waylen.
“Yes, that is correct. They rotate in groups of three." The dragon told him, then began walking again, drawing Waylen and the two guards into his wake as they continued their path.
Waylen nodded. That made it sound like Her Majesty potentially had an army so large that she didn’t have the means to maintain it at full strength year-round. Alternatively, it might mean that she has lost her need for a large army and has begun to shrink it, only keeping enough soldiers on hand to do whatever was deemed essential. He’d have to wait and see which was true, but he was soon to see at least one garrison so he might learn something there.
They’d walked quite a bit more, then found their way to a narrow flight of stairs. The dragon apologized for the long walk as they ascended, and Waylen felt like they must be going fairly high up considering how many steps they were taking. Had they not been walking in a perfectly straight line he’d have assumed they were ascending a tower. When they finally reached the top the dragon opened a wooden door, and light flooded the narrow passage.
Waylen was momentarily blinded, being forced to blink until his eyes adjusted. He followed Ser Lyrren outside and found himself standing on top of the large outer wall that wrapped around the Keep’s courtyard. They were very high up, and the dragon ahead of him spun on his heel to face him, then with both hands he pointed to his either side.
“Your Highness, to my right is Her Majesty’s Keep! We are quite high up and few get to see it from his vantage!" He told him with a curiously uneasy and toothy smile.
Waylen looked to his own left, seeing that they were standing at a higher elevation than most of the Keep. The only exception was the center of the Keep, which stood as tall as the wall they were standing on. Illian had a few high walls like this, but none were so close to Castle Illian that you could look at the castle with a similar view as this.
“And to your other side is the garrison." The dragon told him, drawing his attention to the other side of the wall.
The dragon stepped over to the edge of the wall and towards a waist high stone parapet, which was the only thing keeping you from tumbling down to the courtyard below. Waylen followed while the guards followed them out to stand idle as they waited. But the four of them weren’t alone, as in the distance Waylen could see that there were more soldiers standing watch up and down the full length of Keep’s outer wall.
The Keep would be a very difficult place to conquer if war were to come here. Just this one wall surrounding the Keep was as thick as the fortress’ hallways were wide. You would never break through it with any ease, and there was so much room to move about on top of the wall that a small army of archers could rain arrows down on any invader.
Waylen carefully approached the edge, gripping the stone tightly for his safety as he looked down. Far down below him was a courtyard similar to the one he’d walked through to enter the Keep. There were several stone buildings, and a few more made of wood. A small gate rested at the foot of another much smaller wall on the opposite side of the courtyard. There were… Fifty or more dragons mingling down below? Most of them were in the middle of the yard engaging in different kinds of combat. Practicing their swordplay, he assumed, but there were a fair number of dragons openly fighting like they were brawling, bare fists and all.
He leaned further, looking down to see what might have sat at the foot of the wall below. A warm hand then touched his shoulder, surprising him.
“Your Highness, please." The dragon said with concern, the grip on his shoulder urging him to keep his distance from the edge.
“Of course. My curiosity got the better of me." He took a step back.
The hand then quickly left his shoulder, Waylen taking note that dragons weren’t so averse to touch that they’d refuse to grab you if they thought you were in danger.
“Do soldiers live in those buildings?" He asked, pointing at the buildings below.
Ser Lyrren stretched his neck, looking over the parapet without getting too close to the edge of the wall. Was he afraid of heights? The dragon made a face, then turned his head to the two dragons behind them. He spoke curtly to them in his native tongue, rattling off a string of foreign words until the woman of the two began to move.
She walked over to the edge of the wall, standing far closer to the drop than Ser Lyrren allowed Waylen to stand. She reached out her hand, then pointed to the courtyard and began to speak. Waylen didn’t understand a single word of it, but as she spoke, she was pointing to different things down in the courtyard, and then Ser Lyrren began to talk to him in Radian.
“Your Highness, some soldiers sleep and have their meals in the stone buildings below, others live inside the Keep. The wooden buildings are for storage. Her Majesty has ordered that the wooden buildings be torn down next year so they can be replaced with stone ones like the others. The wooden building next to the gate is a stable for camels. The open area in the middle is where all of the training is done, which is what the soldiers below us are doing now." Ser Lyrren translated everything the other dragon was saying.
He listened intently, appreciating the speed at which the dragon was able to turn Atinan into Radian. Shortly after the other one had finished speaking, Ser Lyrren was able to finish. His quickness with both languages was impressive.
“Thank you, Ser Lyrren. You’re very good at speaking Radian." He complimented the dragon, who then immediate stood up straight and smiled.
Waylen could tell that the dragon was taking this as very high praise.
“Thank you, Your Highness! I have been learning your language for many years in the hope that it may one day be put to good use. Your arrival has been very rewarding." He replied with a bow of his head.
“How many years have you been learning it?" Waylen asked.
The dragon looked thoughtful for a moment, shutting his eyes briefly as he gave a tilt of the head.
“At least thirty years, Your Highness." He replied finally, and his answer was a surprise.
“You’ve studied my language for longer than I have been alive, Ser Lyrren. You might just speak it better than me." Waylen replied, fully intending to flatter.
The dragon smiled very broadly then, showing off his teeth before tightening down his smile and keeping control of himself. Of all the dragons Waylen had interacted with, Ser Lyrren was the only one he’d spent a lot of time around, and it was looking more and more like this one enjoyed gloating to his peers whenever someone of higher status gave him praise. In Illian, there were plenty of servants, soldiers, and even nobles that all acted the same way. Waylen had grown up watching them smile big while they gracefully accepted praise before running off to tell someone.
“There is much I still do not know, but I thank you for your kindness in telling me so." The dragon humbly replied, still trying to control his smile so it did not grow too large.
“You are welcome to it. The soldiers below seem very busy with their training. I would like to go down and watch them if Her Majesty would allow it." Waylen then asked, feeling that he’d get a good answer if he did. They’d already volunteered to show it to him, so why not let him mingle through the courtyard and see it all up close?
Ser Lyrren’s mood then changed, his smile warping into something different. Waylen’s heart sank. He was going to be told no, wasn’t he? The dragon was looking positively anxious now.
“Your Highness, I would need to speak to Commander Tann Er Al’Lon to get permission for that." The dragon replied, clasping his hands in front of his stomach before bowing his head apologetically.
“And who might that person be?" He asked, wondering.
“Commander Tann is the master of all the Keep’s defenses. He serves Her Majesty as one of her Commanders. There are three of them, and each is responsible for a part of Anya Sur and Atina Nah’s defense." Ser Lyrren replied.
Waylen remembered this from the day he arrived.
“The other two are Commanders Roc Er Fel’Noy and Nell Fah Sol’Nu?" He asked, testing his own memory.
He might not be able to remember over forty names for a banquet, but he could at least remember two of Her Majesty’s most important generals! The dragon’s face lit up at Waylen reciting their names.
“Yes! You would have met both of them on the day of your arrival!" he replied. “Commander Tann, you have not met, but he will be attending the banquet for the Festival!"
“Will I have to wait that long to tour the garrison?" He asked.
The dragon’s face lost its light, and he returned to making that uncomfortable expression.
“Commander Tann does not like change." The dragon replied flatly, then nodded his head almost as a sign of resignation.
“But I will speak with him and ask if you may be given a tour of the garrison. Effort will be made, Your Highness." Waylen was told.
Commander Tann must be a difficult sort of person to deal with. Waylen nodded, and thanked Ser Lyrren for agreeing to forward his request. The dragon now seemed to be genuinely depressed, which was almost amusing as all he wanted to do was look around the garrison. There is only so much change a man can make in a courtyard if all he does is look at what’s around him. This Commander Tann would surely survive the turbulence of his visit.
Waylen then changed the subject by asking about the other places the dragon had intentions of showing him, and Ser Lyrren quickly agreed and led him back inside and down the narrow stairway. The difference in temperature was immediately felt as they began to descend back down the stairs and into the Keep.
The rest of the tour was interesting, and informative, but not in any way that would have satisfied his father.
I’ve recently acquired several bottles of Radian alcohol. It’s the same kind that Edgard likes to serve at his table, so I wanted some for our own when he visits. Yvvie hates it, and honestly so do I, but it’s rude to refuse food and drink at someone else’s table. Radians have such awful taste in alcohol! Edgard’s favorite is a red color, like fresh blood. It’s such a morbid drink and it tastes very strange! When I was first told that it was dry I thought that I had misunderstood yet another Radian phrase, but no! How could something so wet taste so dry! I do not understand it.
Then it was explained to me that wine has many subtle flavors, and that there are ways to taste them properly. From what I understand it is considered to be a very fine and sophisticated drink that is expensive in Radiah. I am polite, so I will just assume I am being told the truth. Yvvie would rather drink the pale-yellow colored wine that’s actually sweet, but Edgard apparently doesn’t like the flavor of that one, so it rarely graces his table.
The only reason why I went through the trouble of buying bottles for ourselves was so that Yvvie and I could teach ourselves to tolerate it, as I struggle to keep myself from making ugly faces whenever I have to drink it. It’s such an awful tasting thing, and they tell me it’s made from a fruit! Grapes! I’ve eaten those during my trips to Radiah, and they are delicious! It should be a crime to take something that tastes so good and turn it into something so foul.
Yvvie thinks she’s clever and tries to drink hers as fast as she can so she doesn’t have to taste it, but she can’t do that in front of Radians! They don’t drink like that! You’re supposed to drink it slowly and let the wine sit on your tongue and splash it across the roof of your mouth. I pretend to do it, and then agree with whatever nonsense I’m being told about the flavor. I hate being so rude to them, but I honestly would prefer to drink an entire jug of picti than this.
Or just give me the plant and I’ll take a bite from it raw.
Perhaps Yvvie is right. I can’t imagine either of us learning to enjoy the taste of wine.
He didn’t know why Marissa insisted on him wearing one of his better tunics today. This one in particular was uncomfortable around the neck, but she was adamant that he wear something nice at least until their lunch had concluded.
And Waylen didn’t know what had provoked today’s special occasion, as there were any number of things that it could have been, but this morning Ser Lyrren had come by to speak with Marissa, explaining that they did not need to prepare any meals for lunch today. Her Majesty had arranged that her kitchen, probably the ‘big kitchen’, would prepare food for everyone much as they had on the day they’d first arrived.
They weren’t told what they were going to be served, but it was another ‘feast’ and since it was a catered affair a different room in the Keep had been selected for them to use. All Waylen and the others would need to do is make their way through the halls to reach it.
It was not customary for everyone to eat at the same tables in this manner, and Shane had the mind to explain that Waylen should have a table of his own, but he warded him off that. Things were uncomfortable enough as they are, and no one from his party needed to risk making it worse by quibbling over the details of how they were to be served a meal. It was not being done as a slight to Waylen, he had assured Shane.
Between the three people in his service that held any responsibility, Waylen felt that Shane was the one struggling to adapt the most. Marissa was right at home, apart from the heat. She hated the weather, but she was a very strong woman and didn’t complain unless it was something that mattered. Captain Landon complained, but he was a soldier who’d slept in a foot a snow before, or so he’d claimed. He knew hardship even if he was prone to exaggerate its severity. Waylen just thought he liked to gripe as a way of coping.
The problem of the men going stir crazy was still something to be dealt with. So far, they were managing themselves by playing games and exercising. Waylen suspected that wouldn’t be enough, and he wondered if he’d need to bring it to Ser Lyrren’s attention. He might could find a moment to do that today.
Waylen was in his bedroom, and Codi was with him helping him lace a new pair of boots that better matched his tunic.
“Thank you, Codi." Waylen told him, standing and tapping his boots on the floor to get his feet more comfortable.
“Go and find Shane and ask if there is anything they need help with." He continued, and Codi rushed off to do as he was told with Waylen leaving the bedroom to follow the younger man. The drawing room was empty, but he could hear the women talking through the kitchen door.
It sounded like Margo was complaining that they weren’t being allowed to brew their own tea for lunch. Apparently, the dragons had served their own idea of tea when meals were brought to them while Waylen had dinner with Her Majesty. It had not been to anyone’s liking, but Marissa was being very firm that it would be rude to show up to their meal with pitchers of their own tea.
He approached the kitchen door and looked inside.
Margo and Marissa were the only two he could see, no Christa in sight. The kitchen was clean, though it looked like all the components of a future meal were in their proper places. Pots and pans, plates and silverware were all out on the counters like Marissa had already planned what she would be cooking for tonight’s dinner.
The women noticed his entrance, Margo stopping her complaints and bowing to him respectfully while Marissa quickly crossed the gap between them to look him over.
“Very good." She said, stepping around to his side, touching her fingertips around his tunic and straightening that which she felt was wrinkled, and fixing what she thought was a mess.
“The collar is too tight." He told her.
She stepped back around to his front and grabbed at his collar, running her fingers around his neck between the fabric and his skin. She undid the top button and opened the collar wider.
“Go fetch a sewing needle and some brown thread." She told Margo, who quickly hurried to the side room where the women slept.
“You don’t need to make me a new collar." He chided her, but she ignored him.
Shortly then Margo returned with a small spool of brown thread and a needle. Marissa grabbed the errant button and yanked, snapping the thread and removing the button cleanly. She then pinched the needle between her lips and began to unwind the spool.
“Since I am attending today’s feast, they may not serve tea. When I had dinner with Her Majesty, they only served alcohol. Wine, and two types of local drinks, called picti nef and unni nef." He told Marissa, but it was actually for Margo’s benefit.
She plucked the needle from her lips, then licked the end of the thread to straighten it to a point.
“Which is the one that looks like milk but tastes like a mouthful of bitter mint?" She asked.
“Picti. I’ve yet to try it, but when Princess Iolla described unni nef to me during dinner it sounded just like mead." He replied.
She replied that the mead would be a sight better than the other option. He did not want to agree without having tasted it himself first, but the description of it did not sound appetizing. Marissa then threaded the needle and began to sew the button back onto his collar.
“Margo, our sharpest knife, please." She said, without removing her eyes from the button as she carefully sewed it, being careful not to nick him with the needle point.
Margo searched, Waylen watching as she produced a small but sharp-looking knife.
“Shane would be very upset if he walked in to see you playing tailor on me right before a function." He told Marissa.
“He can be distressed all he likes. I’m sure he’s over there telling all the men to be on their best behavior because he doesn’t trust a one of them." She replied.
“Shane is just a worrisome sort. There’s been plenty to worry about." He told her.
“That may be so, but I think he could afford to drink a few glasses of mead if they serve it." She told him back, then finished sewing the button.
She then began to sew the original hole for the button shut, so that it would not look too unseemly, before taking the knife from Margo and carefully cutting the fabric to make a new hole. She spent the next few minutes carefully sewing the fresh hole so that it would be sturdy, then finally buttoned him back up. She ran her fingers around his neck again to check the gap.
“Good?" She asked.
“Very, thank you, Marissa." He told her.
In the drawing room a door opened, followed by voices, prompting Marissa to remove her hand and step around him to check the doorway.
“Waylen, come." She beckoned him, and she stepped outside to stand next to the door as he followed her out.
Shane was standing near the front door with two dragons, one being Ser Lyrren and the other was dressed as a servant but was not a face he recognized. Ser Lyrren watched him enter, then smiled. Shane then took a step towards Waylen.
“Your Highness, Ser Lyrren comes with food and drink. The tables are already being prepared for us." The older man said.
“By the time you and your service arrive everything will be ready. You may leave now if it would please you, Your Highness." The dragon told him.
Waylen smiled and agreed that leaving now would be best. Ser Lyrren volunteered himself to personally lead Waylen to the dining room while the other dragon was left to guide everyone else. Marissa and Shane stayed behind to make sure everyone was ready before they departed.
“Will Her Majesty be in attendance, if this lunch was her doing?" He asked as the two of them walked, Sol Norra and another of her guard trailing behind them.
“No, Your Highness, and she offers an apology for being unable to. She simply has too much to attend to for today." He replied, but it didn’t come to him as a surprise. It seemed to him that apart from the small number of servants and guards there would be no one of note in attendance.
The dining room he was taken to had obviously not been intended to be used as such. It was larger than Her Majesty’s dining room, but the stone walls each had rows of shelves carved into them, which were completely empty save for the dozens of lit candles being used to add extra light to a room lit only by lanterns. There were four tables set up, and no two were alike. There were long rectangular patches on the floor where the stone was a darker color than the rest, like something had once been sitting there before being recently moved.
This had likely been a storeroom the day before, and Her Majesty had ordered it to be cleared out and converted into a temporary dining room for their guests. It would likely remain this way until after everyone left back to Radiah, if he’d had to guess.
“Today’s lunch was a very spontaneous decision, Your Highness, so please forgive the furnishings." Ser Lyrren told him, the dragon approaching the first and largest of the four tables, all of which were laden with covered platters and troughs of an unknown food. He noticed that once again the table settings were neatly organized into their incorrect places. He smiled, since between the mismatched tables and the silverware he did not know which would upset Shane more.
Ser Lyrren pulled out a chair for him, indicating that he was expected to sit there. This table had room for seven people, and the other tables could seat as many as five a piece. With only twenty people to feed there would be room for everyone with chairs to spare.
A commotion from outside told him that everyone else was coming. Waylen told the dragon that he would remain standing until everyone else arrived, and then Shane stepped through the doorway, followed by Marissa. Everyone else entered after them with Captain Landon following Shane’s directions, quickly directing everyone to get to a table, starting with the smaller tables so the largest of them would be left open for Waylen.
There had been no discussion beforehand as to who should sit where, since no one knew the table arrangement would be, so Waylen took control and began to give directions on who he thought should sit where. He directed those few of his service that were in leadership to his own table, and then he had Codi sit next to the Captain. Waylen smiled, seeing that Shane looked the most uncomfortable as this was breaking all manner of Radian tradition.
Waylen finally accepted his own seat, which was next to Marissa. Now that everyone was seated only two empty chairs remained, which were at his table.
“The food is ready for you all." Ser Lyrren gestured to the four tables, then turned to snap his fingers quickly towards the door.
A small parade of dragons entered with pitchers and jugs to serve drinks, while another pair moved from table to table to remove the lids off every dish. As the first group moved about the room to pour either unni nef or water, most chose water, as they did not know what the unni nef was. Waylen asked for the unni, as he’d not yet had the chance to try it much like with the picti. His decision to choose that led to the Captain and Shane choosing it as well, but Marrisa and Codi just asked for water.
Waylen began to serve himself, telling everyone else to do the same, Shane now looking pale at such a break from what was normal.
“It is customary to serve oneself at their dinner tables, from what I gather." Waylen said quietly to everyone at his table. The other tables followed in his footsteps and began to serve themselves, as well.
The only dragon that might have understood him was Ser Lyrren, but he was across the room checking every table and asking everyone if they needed anything. By the looks on everyone’s faces they were all slightly bewildered by being treated like fine guests.
What was being served today was a kind of soup made with a thin brown broth and a collection of vegetables, all finely chopped. It had stringy bits of white meat, and judging by the flavor of it, Waylen thought it might have been chicken. It had a salty flavor, but there was a current of very feint sweetness that might have been coming from one of the vegetables.
And there were no ton, the little bread rolls, which was tragic as he’d really enjoyed those. Instead, they’d brought out long loaves of bread that had been sliced in the kitchen and brought to the table on long slabs of wood. The bread was not fluffy or tender but toasted until crunchy. Ser Lyrren described it as a bread intended for dipping within the soup, and so that’s what everyone did.
There was no meelish, which was also tragic since Waylen had grown fond of it. He only had the one chance to eat it so far, but the memory of it was lingering, and he’d have liked to try some more. The gravy it was served with was very good, especially with the ton.
“I like the soup. It’s like something I’d have made for you if you were sick. I would like to know what sort of peas they used." Marissa said, examining two small green peas in her spoon.
She’d grown very comfortable at the table, but she was always like that. She had always been a very unflappable woman, and Waylen owed his own nature partly to her tutelage, not that she was aware of it. He was just good at watching and learning. Marissa had unknowingly helped him cope with his mother as he grew older, and as she had grown more demanding.
But now it seemed that most of his group had grown comfortable, too. Everyone was now easing into simply enjoying being served instead of doing the serving. The lunch was really very simple, but it was plentiful and delicious. Waylen was beginning to think that the word feast simply meant two very different things between Radiah and Atina Nah. Maybe for the dragons a feast is simply a larger portion of only one or two foods?
“I’m sure one of the dragons can provide you with an answer if you asked. Are you intending to steal the recipe?" Shane asked her, finally accepting that today’s lunch was just going to be different from what he thought it ought to be.
“I can only ask the one, and he does not have the look of a cook about him." She replied, referring to Ser Lyrren.
The dragon had left some time ago, their lunch dragging on past the half hour mark. More loaves of bread had been served to them, and more drink. The unni nef was no different to him than mead. It was sweet like honey, but you could taste the alcohol well enough to know better than to have too much of it. Waylen had to ask for water after he’d drank half of his second glass of unni. He asked Shane and Landon to make sure none of the men drank too much of it, and the message was quickly passed around the tables.
Ser Lyrren eventually returned with another cart, pushed by a shorter male dragon. The small team of dragons that had been serving them descended upon the cart and began to take out small plates and spoons. In the middle of the cart was a large bowl, and one of the dragons took on the task of scooping a thick pudding-like substance from the bowl and carefully depositing it onto each plate.
As soon as a plate had a sizeable scoop of jiggly white pudding, another dragon took it and sprinkled a green and white blend of shavings. A spoon was then set on the plate, and the first completed ensemble was brought to Waylen.
The dragon sat it down next to him, and he pushed aside his empty soup bowl to take the little plate. He held it up to his nose and gave it a sniff. Mint and sugar. The rest of the room was watching him.
“It’s a dessert." He said aloud for everyone’s benefit, before putting the plate down and taking up the spoon.
As the dragons finished more plates of pudding, they served the rest of the room one by one while Waylen dared to take his first bite. It was sweet! Sweet, and with a cool taste of mint. It almost made his teeth hurt from its richness, but the pudding was very good! He could imagine something like this being served on a warm summer day back in Radiah, though here in Anya Sur he couldn’t begin to guess what the dragons would consider a good time for pudding.
Suddenly, every dragon in the room stopped what they were doing and stood up straight, each turning to look towards the doorway. Waylen turned his head to see the cause. What he found was Her Royal Highness Princess Vienna standing next to the serving cart. She was looking down at the large bowl of pudding while Ser Lyrren scooped out a serving of the dessert before putting it onto a fresh plate, quickly garnishing with the small flakes just as the others had all been.
When he was finished, she took the plate from him, complete with spoon, and then stepped over to the table next to Waylen.
“Your Highness." Waylen spoke up and began to slide his chair back to stand. His gesture provoked the rest of the room to do the same.
“Sit! Sit and eat!" She shouted, but not with anger. With a wave of her free hand, she gestured for everyone to return to their seats.
Immediately, half the room dropped back into their chairs, and the other half waited for Waylen to do so himself. The Princess grabbed the back of the empty chair next to him and pulled it out, and then took a seat.
“I was not told that you would be served picti mal. I now have no choice but to join you." She told him with a smile and then took one spoonful of the pudding.
“You are welcome to, of course." He replied, drawing his fist up to offer a gentle salute to her. The rest of the table did the same.
“You don’t need to salute at the table, Your Highness. If I expected such formality I would have arrived before everyone had taken their seats." She replied, almost dismissively. “How was the lunch? It is not the most decadent thing the big kitchen could have prepared, but this is a very popular dish in Anya Sur."
“It was quite lovely, Your Highness. There are similar dishes to it in Radiah, so I am certain everyone enjoyed it." He told her.
With the Princess now at their table the rest of the room’s noise had become quite muted. The servants had returned to their duties, making sure everyone was well taken care of, but everyone that was eating was doing so very quietly.
“The news that we were having this meal today came as a surprise. I’m sad to see Her Majesty was unable to attend" He told her.
“I, too, was surprised when I first heard of it this morning. Mother can be quite unpredictable when it comes to meals." She smiled at him.
She chose not to comment on Her Majesty’s absence, he noticed.
“I will be sure to thank her then when next I see her." He added, probing gently.
She then put another spoonful into her mouth, then made a humming noise, like she’d found something amusing, and he wasn’t so sure that it was the pudding.
“I do not know when you will see her next. She keeps herself very busy." She replied after swallowing.
“The weight of a crown is very heavy. My father is busy as well no matter the time of year, and my elder brothers have been sharing in that burden for the last few years now to help him." He told her, then ventured a bit further. “I’m sure that is true for you as well."
“Yes, I have taken some duties away from my mother, but I am still able to find time to have my favorite dessert." She smiled, taking another bite while also revealing a little bit of herself.
He hoped Marissa was paying close attention should they manage to host their own lunch or dinner in the near future. There was at least one member of the royal family that was going to be easier to keep happy.
“It is very good." He agreed.
“Someone will have to explain to Marissa how it is made, if given the chance." He volunteered, forcing the woman next to him make that mental notation.
“Who is that?" Her Highness then asked.
Waylen then drew the dragon’s attention to poor Marissa who was not prepared for it. The older woman then nodded politely to the dragon. She was seldom in a position at Castle Illian to directly interact with much of the Radian nobility. For most of his life Marissa had largely been one of his primary caretakers, tending to all of his needs when his mother didn’t have him by the ear. He could not recall her having much to do with formal matters, as that was left to others people Shane to manage.
“Marissa manages some of the servants that came with me from Radiah, and she rules over our kitchen." He explained, Marissa bowing her head and quietly introducing herself with a scant few words.
“You may know Shane, he also manages some of my servants, but also is the only one here gifted enough to speak Atinan. He assists me whenever needed for matters that might relate to Anya Sur." He directed the dragon’s attention to the older man across from them.
“Greetings to you, Your Highness." Shane spoke up and bowed his head similar to how Marissa had done.
Princess Vienna was polite in her reply, a nod of the head and a smile.
“And I should introduce Captain Landon. He commands all the guards that came with me." He told then lastly, deciding then that he wouldn’t mortify anyone else today, especially young Codi who had only a single empty seat between him and the heir to the Atinan throne.
“Your Highness." Landon replied, snapping a quick salute to the dragon.
She nodded in reply, then turned to look at Waylen.
“Yesterday, on your tour, you asked if you could visit our garrison. When I finish my dessert, I will be going there myself. You are welcome to join me if you would like." She replied, lifting another spoonful of pudding.
“Of course, I’d be delighted to. I would also like to bring Captain Landon with me if you didn’t mind?" He asked, the man sitting a few seats from him sitting up straighter.
The Princess looked to the older man, then back to him.
“You may." She replied, then took up another spoonful of pudding. Waylen really hoped Marissa figured out how to make that dessert.
I’ve had to console Yvvie a lot more these days. When she’s not helping me to argue causes with the merchants or the tribal elders, she’s out there on the sand with her warriors. She’s spent the last few months trying to turn them into a proper army, mimicking all that she’d seen when she marched to Radiah to wage war against Darfell. She feels like she’s a failure, though she’s much too proud to admit it to anyone but me. She’s afraid her army will not master the craft of war like Edgard’s has.
I had thought that once we put the past behind us, rebuilding Anya Sur would heal her wounds, but she’s been very different since she returned from Radiah. Edgard’s war against Darfell was a success, and actually ended much more swiftly than I had ever imagined. Our own war to unite Atina Nah had taken years. When she returned after only six months, I was happy, but the look on her face was one I’d seen too many times.
I’ve had to tell her she needs to ease herself back, to slow down, because the time for war has passed us by. She’s gathered so many Atinans that are willing to fight for her, swelling her army to be as mighty as the one in Radiah. We have so much growing support that we do not lack for fighters, but Yvvie is afraid of shadows. She cannot hide that from me, especially with how often I’ve listened to her vent her frustrations. There is a tone of voice she uses when she’s afraid, and she may be able to hide it from others, but I’ve held her too often and too closely to mistake the voice she uses for anything less than fear.
Radiah and Darfell are very cold places, much colder than our own coldest nights, and when she marched there to fight it was during their winter season. The cold stings and burns us, so their snow is like hot glass fresh from a smith’s kiln, and Yvvie’s army was not well prepared for it. She described to me their first battle, and even though I am not one to understand war the same way she does, I do understand what it means to narrowly escape from danger.
She described to me what it was like to see Darfell’s army march towards her in the snow, in neat orderly lines with their weapons drawn, while she and her soldiers stood in freezing agony. Both Darfell and Radiah knew how to fight in the snow, thick like sand that reached past their ankles, bundled properly in armor that both protected and kept them warm. Yvvie was shaken, having thought so little of Edgard’s army because of how pitiful they were in the fight to conquer Anya Sur.
But in the snow the Radians were skillful and hardy. Yvvie tells me that every Radian soldier that did not return home, did so for having died in battle, whereas every Atinan that did not return had died from the cold. Not proudly in battle, dying to foe worthy of it. They’d all frozen to death. She’s been making her army train in loose sand now, both during the day and in the dead of night when the air is at its coldest, to prepare them should they ever have to march with snow around their ankles and falling painfully across their snouts.
She tells me that if they had not outnumbered Darfell so greatly, that they would have lost. For someone who has already lost so much, I cannot blame her for being afraid of losing more. I can only hope that burning Darfell’s castle to the ground is enough to frighten them from ever inviting Edgard’s wrath again.
Waylen now found himself walking next to Her Highness, Princess Vienna Fah Ro’Un, as she guided him down the hallway and towards the doors that would take them out into the courtyard he’d seen the day before. Ser Lyrren had been left behind at the makeshift dining room to continue managing what was left of their luncheon, and Waylen was finding that he missed the slender dragon’s presence. For all of Her Highness’ good demeanor, she had him eclipsed in status.
Ser Lyrren was polite, his only faults being his haughtiness and willingness to talk a lot more than necessary, but he was also subordinate. He didn’t realize how comforting it had been to be led around the Keep by someone who was essentially tied to his service. Princess Vienna, on the other hand, could tell him what to do, when to do it, how to do it, and she would not need to explain to him the why. He had no reason to assume she would be difficult with him, but his experiences with Her Majesty had planted a quiet fear that he simply could not shake away.
Her Highness was also probably still upset with him that he did not know that she was married. If the women of Atina Nah were anything like the ones in Radiah, then they would not forget nor forgive such a slight with ease. Even if it was not his fault.
“I doubt you will find anything amiss, Your Highness." She told him then.
Up to this point in their walk, she’d been explaining to him that after he’d asked Ser Lyrren if a tour of the garrison could be arranged, that his request had quickly found its way to her ear. His request had apparently sprouted legs and began leaping from Ser Lyrren to Commander Tann, and then to her.
“I did not expect to. My curiosity just got the better of me. I’d seen it from above and only wanted to come down to see it up close." He replied, pointing his finger up and in the direction of where he thought Ser Lyrren had taken him before. With all the Keep’s many indistinguishable passages, he was quite lost at the moment.
“He took you up onto the wall?" She asked him with a curious tilt of her head.
“Yes, he took me up so that he could show me a view of the Keep’s courtyards. It was a very nice view." He told her, always remembering to be complimentary. If they didn’t think he was enjoying his visit, then they might not be so eager to show him more.
And then she laughed, a sound that was warm and feminine.
“He is more afraid of Tann than he is of heights." She replied, speaking more to herself than she was to him.
He smiled in reply but was not sure where the humor was coming from. He did recall that Ser Lyrren had looked very uncomfortable when asked if he could see the garrison, but he hadn’t thought too much of it at the time.
“He did seem to be uncomfortable near the edge and encouraged me not to stand to close to it." He told her, which left her smiling more.
“There are very few high places in Atina Nah and most of us like to keep our feet on the ground. However, Lyrren is a bit more frail than most when it comes going up on the walls." She took her own turn to point a finger upward.
“There is Anya Sur. The mountain, that is. And then there are many others like it throughout the desert that I could see. All look to be quite high up." He added, knowing that of course she’d know of them much better than he would.
“This is true, but there is nothing on top of them worth climbing up to see. You could get a nice view of Atina Nah from on top of Anya Sur, but then you have to climb down. I’m told that all that lives atop Anya Sur or its many sisters are but bird nests." She replied.
They finally arrived at the doors that lead outside. There was a pair of soldiers posted to either side of the doorway, and as they approached the pair opened the doors, allowing Her Highness, himself, and the rest of their small group to pass. Behind Waylen was Captain Landon, who had been silent for most of the walk from the dining room to here. Along with him were two other dragons. He did not know their names, but he knew they were not a part of the group that Sol Norra commanded. These two were some of Princess Vienna’s personal guards, or so he assumed.
“But here in the garrison there is something worth seeing." She continued, gesturing with both hands to the courtyard in front of them.
The heat was already roasting him, the sun beating down on them from its noontime vantage.
There were dozens of dragons in the yard training and doing so as if the heat did them no harm. He had to lift his hand over his eyes to shield them from the sunlight. He panned his eyes around, seeing that the dragons were all split off into pairs, and it looked as though they were sparring against each other with different kinds of weapons. Some used spears, others had swords, some were with and others without shields.
His interest was not only piqued, but his relief was palpable. Finally, he could relax knowing he was accomplishing something for his father after days of delayed effort.
“What’s done is different each day, so I asked Commander Tann to organize something that might interest you. Everyone gathered in the courtyard today is practicing what they should already know by engaging in single combat. I’m sure your own army does similar to keep them from forgetting." She explained, stepped ahead of him to admire her own soldiers on display.
Waylen turned towards Landon and looked to the older man, gesturing with a hand for the older man to speak up. He nodded in reply and cleared his throat.
“Yes, Your Highness. We regularly gather our troops in a similar manner to what your soldiers are doing now. We have them perform many different kinds of drills to keep their skills sharp." Landon replied on Waylen’s behalf.
Waylen was not a soldier, so he was not the best person to speak to when it came to how his kingdom prepared for war. The Princess listened, and then seemed to quietly repeat the word drill to herself, feeling out the word silently.
“A drill is like they are doing?" She then pointed to the dragons who were fighting in pairs.
“Not quite, Your Highness. A drill is more… It is more… It is what we call it when we have many soldiers in a group practice a plan of battle. If you understand?" The Captain replied, struggling to find the way to explain a word that came so naturally to him that explaining it to another was a challenge. Normally, he was a man that was always confident, but at the moment it seemed that even he was being knocked off balance by the state of affairs they all found themselves in.
She nodded, looking out at the soldiers gathered.
“We just call that practice." She replied.
Before either Waylen or the Captain could comment she lifted her hand to her mouth, and with two fingers she blew a sharp whistle. At least Waylen was prepared for it, having watched her touch her fingers to her lips right before she blew. He’d already been embarrassed enough; he didn’t need to jump from his boots in front of several dozens of Her Majesty’s soldiers.
Her whistle was clearly a signal for everyone to stop, and every dragon in the courtyard broke away from their sparring partner and turned in the direction of the whistle.
They all stood with their back straight and gave them a salute. Waylen then watched as the Princess raised her right hand and made a gesture with three fingers over her head. This signal relaxed all the dragons who then returned to what they were doing before the whistle. Waylen was admittedly dimwitted when it came to how commanders and soldiers plied their trade, but to his eyes this seemed quite impressive. Just a whistle and a single gesture of the hand was sufficient to get such a large group to stop, observe, salute, and then return to their duties. He’d have to ask for Landon’s opinion on this later.
“Commander Tann should be coming now." She said aloud, turning her head to look in the direction of one of the stone buildings across the yard.
“Ser Lyrren told me he was one of Her Majesty’s Commanders?" Waylen asked.
“Yes, he is. He has served as Commander of the Keep for the last…" She started to say before stopping herself to draw in a breath like she was thinking deeply. “I don’t remember. It was before you would have been born, but not by a great amount."
“That is still quite a long time to serve at one post." He told her, Waylen glancing to Landon then. The other man seemed curious for the moment.
She turned her head back to look at Waylen.
“Commander Roc Er Fel’Noy has been the Commander Beyond the Wall since before I was born, Your Highness. That is quite a long time to serve at one post." She told him with a smile.
Dare he say that her smile seemed warm? Actually pleasant! How much of her mother actually made it into the daughter, he had to wonder. It was hard for him to see any familial resemblances between dragons, though he admittedly lacked much experience in seeing dragons that he knew to be relatives. He was sure there had to be something, but he was too new to their people to know what those things might be for now. Whatever resemblance Princess Vienna had to her mother was invisible, and that contrast was made all the more powerful by how differently the two acted. Her Highness was actually smiling, and she appeared to be a truly pleasant person.
“And how long would that be? Your age that is, if it is not rude to ask?" He asked, knowing he might be in trouble for asking her age, but she was the one to first bring it up.
“No, not rude. In a few months’ time I will celebrate my fifty second year of life." She told him, and then her head suddenly tilted with curiosity as she watched Waylen’s own face twist into disbelief.
“Is something the matter, Your Highness?" She asked him.
He looked at the Captain, who was as shocked as he was, and he had nothing helpful to say in reply. So, Waylen was left confused. He knew both of Her Majesty’s daughters were older than him, but he’d assumed they were perhaps Nyle’s age, or maybe a little older? At least Vienna, surely since she was the eldest of the two siblings.
“Honestly, I do not see how you can be fifty-two, Your Highness. You do not look so old to me." He confessed. Her confusion lit up with an amused smile before she started laughing.
“I am still young!" She told him, laughing still.
Waylen had only ever seen the Princess dress herself as a man would do. Her tunics and trousers, the armor of a soldier, had all betrayed the truth that she was still in fact a woman. Her voice and laughter were distinctly feminine, warm and musical in their own way. It was such a stark contrast, and he had to wonder if all the other woman he’d seen in armor here were the same as Princess Vienna, femininity hidden behind the clothing of war.
“It is hard for me to tell, I’m sorry. I knew you were older than me, and my siblings, but no one told me how many years you had." He apologized to her and offered a flimsy explanation as to why he was so confused.
He felt so silly now, since he knew Her Majesty was ancient, so of course why wouldn’t her two children be old as well? In fact, he should have been more surprised that she was so young as she’d said, since Her Majesty was alive during King Edgard’s reign over a hundred years prior.
She looked away from him and back out at the crowd of sparring dragons. He watched as she raised her hand and drifted her finger in an arc to cover the whole lot of them.
“Did no one tell you we grow taller with age?" She asked him, her voice full of amusement.
He didn’t know if she was being serious or not.
“Everyone grows taller with age." He replied.
“Yes, but we don’t stop growing until we become an eldest. Look out at them. If you see one of them is taller than another, then the taller one is older." She explained.
He glanced back at the Captain who was not much help, as all he did was shrug, revealing that this was news to him as well.
“Then that must mean Eldest Thalla is quite old." He replied, feeling like he was now understanding what her title of Eldest really meant. It really did just mean that she was old, and very old at that if she was even taller than Her Majesty.
“She is over two hundred, has been for the last several years. There are now… Thirty-one eldest in the city, I think. She is not the oldest of them, but she is still much older than most Atinans living in Anya Sur." She told him.
Over two hundred… That was so many generations of his family, she was even older than Her Majesty! The truth that dragons lived long lives was not news to him, but he’d only ever heard it spoken in passing. The only dragon whose age was ever made clear to him was the Queen’s, and only due to the history that Atina Nah shared with Radiah. One could not learn about Atina Nah without also learning that its reigning monarch was older than old!
Her Majesty was almost legendary, something unreal until you truly grasped that she was in fact a creature alive in the world, physical and breathing. Now Waylen was in Anya Sur discovering that there were many many such legendary figures that were so very old.
“There he is." She then said with a smile after turning her head back towards the stone buildings.
Waylen had wanted to ask how old exactly Her Majesty was, but the attention was being drawn to a dragon that was now swiftly approaching them. By the time he reached them Waylen could see he was wearing a brown tunic, similar to what many of the other dragons in the yard were wearing, with the addition of light armor. His face was locked into a scowl, framed by skin an even darker shade of brown like the bark of a tree. This one had yellow eyes, too. He’d only counted a few dragons during his stay that had colorful eyes, since all the rest seemed to only have shades of grey.
The dragon clapped his fist over his chest in salute, directing his attention squarely at Princess Vienna without sparing any attention for him. He spoke two words, but both were in Atinan.
“Your Highness." The Princess then said, and Waylen first thought that she was asking for his attention, but her eyes were locked onto the other dragon’s.
And it actually looked like the other dragon was sneering.
“Your Highness." The dragon said, now speaking Radian with a thick accent.
Princess Vienna then nodded to him before pivoting gently on her heel to gesture to Waylen with her hand.
“Prince Waylen Sundile wanted to see our garrison. I have decided to personally show it to him as I know you are very busy." She told the Commander.
“Yes. Very busy, Your Highness. I have much doing in little time." The dragon then replied with very broken Radian, and it was honestly surprising to hear a dragon speak it so poorly. Up until now every dragon he’d heard speak either only spoken Atinan or they had a firm grasp of Radian.
“Yes, I am very busy, Your Highness. I have a lot to do and very little time to do it." The Princess replied, turning her attention back to the Commander as she spoke, enunciating her every word very carefully.
The other dragon seemed to sneer again, until Her Highness snapped something at him in Atinan. It was only a few sharp words, that aggressive sounding language hitting the air like violence. No matter how much he heard it, it never seemed to soften unless he’d catch a dragon speaking it in a whisper.
Commander Tann then repeated himself, but in proper Radian, exactly as Her Highness as done. His accent was thick, and his speech wasn’t any easier to understand, but at least it was correct. When he was finished, he looked very aggravated. Waylen glanced at Landon, who was silently watching the two dragons interact. Was it normal for the Princess to embarrass one of her Commanders like this? The Commander also seemed to have an ill temperament about him even before Her Highness began to speak to him.
“You may return to what you were doing for now, Commander Tann." She told him, then lifted her hand, three fingers up just like before, to dismiss him. Commander Tann then looked angry but said nothing in reply, before nodding curtly to her and spinning on his heel to storm off back where he’d come from.
She even had the gall to flick her fingers, like she was shooing away a pest. Waylen glanced at the Captain who had noticed it, too. They shared a silent moment of shock before the Princess interrupted them.
“Commander Tann has much to learn. I apologize for his poor grasp of Radian. Before he was the Commander of the Keep, he served under Commander Nell Fah Sol’Nu and never needed to speak it. He’s been learning it the last couple of years, but he is a very difficult Atinan to teach." She explained, then tucked both her hands behind her back and began to walk.
Waylen walked with her, falling in next to her on her left while the Captain followed in Waylen’s wake. She then stopped suddenly, forcing them both to stop as well.
“If you are the Captain of His Highness’ guard, then you will profit more from this tour, I believe." She said, looking straight at the Captain, then pulled one hand from her back and invited him to stand at her right side.
It was only after she was flanked by both Waylen and Captain Landon that she resumed walking.
As she led through the courtyard she spoke patiently, using her hands whenever necessary, to point out what the many pairs of dragons were doing to hone their skills. Most of it was probably boring for the Captain, but Waylen found it interesting. Her Highness invited the Captain to speak if he had any questions, which he did from time to time. It was mostly idle commentary, but for someone uneducated on the subject, Waylen was entertained.
He was grateful that he’d brought the Captain along. He was asking all of the important questions, and the Princess was unafraid of giving him answers. All Waylen had to do was patiently listen and learn that in Atina Nah they used every manner of weapon that Radiah would use in battle, but with the addition of a few things he was unaware of. Though no one in the yard was using them at the moment, it seemed that the dragons are also fond of using slings, but he only had the vaguest ideas of what that would look like in practice. Waylen only knew it was something you could use to hurl an object, like a rock, harder and further than if you’d tried throwing it yourself.
Further, they also learned that the garrison was currently drawn down to a third of its normal complement of soldiers. Most dragons that served in Her Majesty’s army did not serve all year round, like Ser Lyrren had told him before. Most had other jobs in the city by working as farmers, tradesmen, and the like. With the Festival of Founding growing so near, there was a lot of preparation required and most dragons that would have been in any of the city’s garrisons or the Keep itself, were being sent elsewhere to help prepare the city.
What was left in the garrison were the dragons least skilled in other trades, or more politely put, they were the most professional soldiers in Her Majesty’s army. At least, that’s how Her Highness had described them.
She stopped them in front of a group of eight dragons who were sparring against each other in mismatched pairs. On one side of each pair, the dragon held a sword while their opposite wielded a spear. All the weapons he’d seen the dragons using were fake, made of solid wood or blunted metal. None of it looked like it was intended to kill, but he was sure it would hurt quite a lot if you were struck with one.
Her Highness addressed the group with a few words in her native tongue, which brought the eight all to a halt. They stood at attention and went to salute, but she stopped them with a wave of her hand before they could complete the gesture. It was another of her three-fingered signals, but this time she was holding her ring finger separate from her middle and index. Interesting.
They relaxed with their hands at their sides, their weapons lowered.
She began to speak more in Atinan, pointing at two dragons, each from a different pairing. Quickly, the other six backed away to leave the two selected dragons to come forward.
“We fight with weapons of course, but in times long past when my mother was still young, we did not have Radian steel, nor plentiful supply of good wood. My people had to fight with crude tools, and often our bare hands. My mother believes that we should be prepared to fight under any condition, and so we train not only to use weapons but also with our bodies." She was speaking to the Captain, but her eyes glanced at Waylen as if she was signaling that this was all for his benefit and not Landon’s.
“A wise decision. We do similar, Your Highness." The Captain replied.
“My mother tells me she’s seen Radians fight without a weapon, and that she feared the day your kingdom ran out of steel." She replied, adding, “If she were here to say it, it would have sounded rude, but trust that when she told that to me it was out of concern. Radians are not so strong as Atinans."
Waylen chose to stay silent, and it was somewhat refreshing to see someone else struggle for a reply, as the Captain seemed to be at a loss as to what he could say that would not cause offense.
“So long as the sun rises, I should think Radiah would have steel." Landon surprised him by replying to the most controversial part of what she’d just told them, as Radian mines have never struggled to rip ore from the earth.
“I should hope so, Captain. Steel is the most valuable thing in Atina Nah." She replied, her tone of voice suddenly much more serious.
The Princess then gestured with her hand, uttering a quick word in Atinan. The two dragons she’d picked out began to undue the buttons of their tunics, and in moments both were bare chested and handing their discarded clothing to the dragons who had stepped aside. It was a surprise to him seeing that both dragons had two colors of skin, the flesh of their chests was a darker color than everywhere else. He’d never noticed it until now, but the off color ran all the way up to their necks.
When they were ready, they each began to stalk to the other in a circle.
Her Highness shouted something at them in Atinan, spooking the dragon that had his back turned to her, while the other stole advantage from it and leapt at him with a snarl.
Waylen was then treated to the spectacle of watching too fit and capable dragons brawl on the hard packed earth of the courtyard. There was nothing elegant about it, as it was nothing like swordplay with its practiced, sweeping motions. There was no grace. The pair were grabbing each other by the arms, by their necks, lifting one another off the ground and tossing them down violently. Each body blow was enough to make Waylen wince in sympathy.
The dragon that had been spooked before, then used his tail to slap his opponent across the side of his knees, buckling the other dragon’s leg. This turned into another aggressive brawl that ended with the former pinning the latter to the ground with two hands wrapped tightly around his opponent’s neck. The dragon that was pinned struggled for a moment, then went limp and started slapping the ground with his palm.
The one on top of him quickly let go of his opponent, then picked himself up off the ground before reaching to help his companion up onto his feet. The two had been fighting for more than a minute or two, and yet Waylen struggled to imagine himself lasting more than a few seconds if he ever found himself on the receiving end of a dragon’s anger.
“That was very impressive, Your Highness!" Waylen said, feeling very satisfied with the display. He’d always enjoyed watching the horseplay and practices in Radiah, or at least when he was allowed to. His mother did not want her son to be a soldier, and she worked very hard to keep him as far away from it as possible.
“These two are talented, but they need to be better about staying on their feet instead of rolling on the ground like a mouse." She replied, then stepped forward and began to speak aggressively in her own tongue at the two dragons, pointing at them with her hands and making hand gestures that held unknown meanings.
He could not understand what she was saying, but by her posture and tone of voice she must have been lecturing them. Waylen passed a look at the Captain, who then quickly stepped over to him to lean close.
“They fight like savages, but I would not have survived either of them even in my prime." He whispered, then stood himself back up straight.
Waylen nodded to him. A harsh way to describe their fighting, but it was very dirty. He’d never gotten into a fight before, only having held a toy sword in his childhood. He wasn’t going to judge them too critically, especially if the goal was to win. As ugly and dirty as it might have looked, it would be effective, especially if they found themselves fighting Darfell without a weapon in their hands.
The Princess stopped lecturing the pair, then stepped back over to Waylen and the Captain.
“I needed to instruct them on their mistakes." She told them both, and Waylen’s eyes drifted to Her Highness’ neck.
The collar of her tunic rode high, but within the narrow gap between her collar and the underside of her snout he could see that there was indeed a different color from the rest of her face, except it was a lighter color instead of the expected darker one.
Behind her the two dragons were quickly joined by the other six. All of them were now undoing buttons to remove their tunics so that they could fight the same as the first two had, and Waylen had to quickly look away from them to keep his gaze solely on Her Highness. Three of the eight dragons had been women, and they were removing their tunics the same as the men were, leaving themselves bare-breasted.
“Have you been told yet that you will be a guest of honor at this year’s tournament?" She asked, looking at Waylen.
“No, I have not, Your Highness." He replied, keeping his eyes firmly on her and not the dragons behind her.
Thankfully, she began to walk and gestured for him to follow. The sparring dragons were quickly put behind them, Waylen’s eyes catching an amused look on the Captain’s face as he’d seen it, too. He wasn’t sure how he felt about a dragon’s bust being his first.
“Every year for the last eighty or more, mother has arranged a competition of skill. Every Atinan that serves in a role of leadership is expected to hand pick soldiers under their command to participate. I believe you have similar traditions in Radiah, since that is where mother stole the idea." She told them as they were led back the way they’d come.
“We do, Your Highness, though not at the same time each year. We host tournaments alongside celebrations for weddings and other important occasions." The Captain replied. Waylen’s mind quickly turned to the riding competition that had been held the day after Nyle’s wedding. There weren’t many memories that Waylen’s could call his favorite, but that was one of them.
“Well, we hold this one the day before the Festival. Next week, the soldiers that were chosen will be gathering in this garrison to train until the day of the tournament. When the barracks were built, we did not expect to have to house so many soldiers in them. There will more than five hundred competing this year and we will have to house many of them outside the gate over there." She told them, gesturing to the wooden gate across the courtyard.
“There is a large training yard on the other side of the wall that we use for pretend battles. Commander Tann has been responsible for keeping everything organized for the tournament, which is why he is very busy. He is still learning how to do the job well." She continued.
“Is it always five hundred?" Waylen asked.
“No, when mother first held them, it was much less. A hundred or so. When I was as young as you, I remember there being maybe twice that, but then she just kept making it bigger. This is the tenth year we’ve gathered so many." She told him.
That sounded like a lot of people competing. He didn’t think that any of the competitions or tournaments in Radiah had so many.
“Were any of ours that large, Captain?" He asked the other man.
“No, Your Highness, I don’t believe so. Smaller competitions are often only in the dozens, and the larger ones might only have a hundred or more." He replied.
“If you only host them for celebrations then it would be sensible to keep them small. Mother would host the tournament another time of year if it were not for tradition. Everyone in the city expects the tournament to be the day before the Festival and so it’s too late now to change it." She replied.
They were now getting close to the doors that led back into the Keep.
“If it’s an event the people enjoy, then it seems like a good idea to keep it that way." Waylen volunteered.
“Our people do enjoy it. We have teams of builders working very hard to get everything ready for them. We let anyone who wants to watch sit on the sidelines, so we have to erect tents and awnings, places to sit, all while the merchants argue with each other over where they get to set up their stalls. It’s a great deal of work to be done in a short amount of time." She told him.
Waylen agreed with her that it did sound like an awfully large amount of effort.
“Would it be possible for me to see where the tournament is going to be held before its time? I’d like to see it empty before I see it full of people. I assume I’ll be there to watch it on the day of?" He asked her, now very interested in the tournament.
If there were to be so many dragons competing, and if they were all handpicked, then it should be quite exciting! The little brawl he’d just watched was entertaining enough as it was, so to see so much more of it in a grand tourney was sure to become a wonderful memory!
“Yes, of course, you will be there. Mother and Iolla will be way up there with you." She lifted her hand then and pointed up at the top of the wall, right where Waylen had been standing with Ser Lyrren not so long ago.
“On the wall?" He asked.
“Yes, but right above the gate you walked in through when you first arrived at the Keep. There is enough room on top of the wall to sit several people and that’s where mother likes to be. You will be able to look down and watch the competition." She explained.
“I’m glad I have been invited, Your Highness. It sounds very exciting." He told her.
She smiled.
“I won’t be there to enjoy it with you, as I will be down here on the ground conducting it myself. Mother used to do that, but she passed the duty to me a decade ago." She replied.
“Would it be fair to say that it is an important role to fulfill? It sounds like it is." He asked her.
She nodded, agreeing that it was, but added that she missed being able to sit and watch like she used to. They returned to the doorway that led back inside the keep and the Princess walked them all inside, freeing them from the courtyard’s oppressive heat.
“Thank you for allowing me to see the garrison, Your Highness." Waylen told the Princess. She smiled in reply, offering him a nod before turning her head to one of the two guards that had been trailing them the entire time. She spoke to him in Atinan briefly, and then Waylen watched as that one quickly departed.
“You are welcome. I’ll walk you back to your rooms, and that is where I will be leaving you today. Like Commander Tann, I have much to do, as well." She told him.
“Of course." He replied.
They resumed their walk, the Princess guiding him back the way they came. He was trying to be careful to remember where they were going, as it bothered him that he’d gotten mixed up on the way to the garrison. Waylen liked knowing where he was in Castle Illian, and that habit was holding firm here in Anya Sur. He doubted he’d ever find himself back at the garrison, but… Ah! He remembered!
“Your Highness, I have a request, if it’s not too much to ask?" He began, hoping that the Princess’ good demeanor would lead to a solution to a problem!
Today we received letters from Radiah! Most of them were what I always expect to see; questions over goods or offers of trade, but one was special, sealed with wax in the way that Edgard likes to do with all his personal letters. He likes using a ring made of gold to press wax into the envelopes that contain his letters, and when we started sending letters back to him, I tried to do the same. I don’t think their bees make the same wax as the ones we have, as I cannot seem to get it to melt the same way Edgard can get his to! My seals always turn out ugly compared to his, so I’ve since given up trying and have taken to simply pressing my thumb over the wax in frustration and being done with it. It isn’t as pretty as Edgard’s, but you can still tell it’s my seal by the mark of my thumb.
But today’s letter was very special! Had I known it beforehand I would have planned something nice with Yvvie to celebrate, but by the time I opened Edgard’s letter it was far too late in the day. I had expected something formal, as Edgard was always that way in his letters, but instead I was surprised by something very personal from him! When I told Yvvie she was awkward about it, and I wanted to take her by the shoulders and give her a shake! For Edgard to send us a letter like this meant so much, it meant that we were close to them! It was such a relief to me that our two kingdoms had forged a bond like this.
Only those closest to you would send word that they had brought a whelp, or children I should probably be saying, into the world!
It was not Edgard’s child, but that of his eldest son Theo. I’ve met him fewer times than I have his father, but he seems very much like Edgard. Radians all look strange to me, but I could see that the shape of his jaw, and the angle of his nose, were the same as his father’s. He was very much a young man struck from the mold of his sire, but with his mother’s wizened blue eyes. I have to keep reminding myself the color of their eyes do not tell me their age, but whenever I see one of their little children with bright eyes, I can’t help but pause at the strangeness of seeing so much wisdom in someone so small.
Edgard’s letter was only to tell us that Theo’s wife had given birth to a daughter. I didn’t know what the Radian custom was to do for such an occasion, so I made plans for us to have a fine dinner tomorrow, just me and Yvvie. We are very far away from our friends in Radiah, but we could still honor the new life that they’d brought into the world. Yvvie grumbled that she didn’t think Edgard would care, but I told her I’d be feeding her good camel meelish and unni, and she gave in. I know how to bribe her.
I will try to write him a letter in return to congratulate Theo and his wife on their new little one, though I worry my grasp of their script may still be lacking. I want to ask if we should plan a visit to Radiah, as it is our custom to visit family after they’ve born new life. Surely, they do something similar in Radiah? If they do, I must think of something suitable as a gift! Maybe the Radian merchants would have some wisdom to share, so that will be in my list of things to do before the week is done.
Her eyes scanned down the list, reading each item off silently before darting her eyes to the right side of the page where the price had been written. Each item had a value, and that value was being paid for either by steel or by trade of another good. What she was reading was a trade ledger between Anya Sur and Ulta, a kingdom to the north at the far edge of Atina Nah. After a few moments she put the paper down to rest on the small end table next to her, then reached over to the bar of wax lying next to it. She pinched off a fingertip’s worth of wax and began to roll it between her thumb and finger to warm it.
“They want even more glass now." Her Majesty, Queen Yvvie Fah Ro’Sah, said out loud in her native tongue. She made no effort to hide her irritation.
Glass was not easy to make in Ulta, and the glassware made in Anya Sur was some of the finest in all of Atina Nah. It did not have much value to her people, but outside of Atina Nah everyone loved it, especially Radiah. It was a very valuable item for sale to the Kingdom, and if they gave more of it to Ulta then she would have to coax her smiths into producing even more glass to keep up with the demand.
“They discovered that we now have a taste for gold, sadly." Thalla replied, speaking Atinan just the same.
She sneered in reply to that. Gold was a worthless metal, afforded its value only by the blind belief of those that ripped it from the earth. The Ultans to the north gave it value, and so did all the Kingdoms east of the desert, like Radiah, but it had no place here in Atina Nah. Steel was the only metal of any real worth.
“It was your idea to begin asking for it." Yvvie reminded the eldest, since gold was never an item up for trade before. Only within the last few years did they begin to barter for small amounts of it, and only because Thalla had suggested stocking small amounts for future use should Anya Sur ever need to directly purchase goods from Radiah using a currency they preferred.
“We were discreet." The eldest replied.
Yvvie replied to that with a grunt, and the wax was now beginning to melt from the heat of her hand. She pinched the wax gently between her fingers to flatten it, then reached down to the corner of the page and pressed it down tightly with her thumb. She rolled her thumb off the wax seal before picking up the ledger up again. She examined it one last time, ensuring that her fingerprint was legible in the wax, before handing it off to Thalla.
The two women were sitting in a room that Myunn had once used as his own. Of all the rooms in the Keep that were considered hers, this room was the only one that matched the décor of the Radian guest rooms. He had wanted it that way. When the guest rooms had been completed so many decades ago, her husband had all of the leftover pieces of wood and furniture that could not fit anywhere else, be brought into their own rooms so he could have himself a study that matched what the Radians had. This is where he liked to work, as he thought it was comfortable.
Thalla took the paper from her and set it in her lap to join the others. Every month this was the ritual that stole many evenings of her time. Signing away the fruit of Atina Nah so that she might in turn receive the fruits of another. With every year, with every decade, the amount of trade only grew. He would have loved to see such a tall stack of papers sitting in Thalla’s lap. He would have been proud.
She picked up the last one, which was much shorter. It was a list of… Dyes, apparently. She was being asked to trade one pound of filtered sand to Radiah in exchange for two ounces of dye. There were several dyes listed, dozens by the look of it. All total they would be sending more than several hundred pounds of sand for Radian glassmiths, all in exchange for what she felt was a very small amount of color. He would have done a better job of negotiating this, as he knew the value of dye better than she ever would.
Yvvie tore off another piece of wax and rolled it in her fingers to warm it. Soon as it was beginning to melt, she pinched it onto the corner of the page, leaving her wax seal in place before handing it off for Thalla to take. She took it, then began to neatly stack the papers until they were well organized.
Her ear twitched when she heard a door open in another room. It was the front door, her daughter’s footsteps. She reached past where her stack of papers had once been sitting and picked up her half-emptied glass of wine. It was fully empty by the time her daughter entered the study. Vienna looked at her, then at the large stack of paper in Thalla’s lap. She watched as her daughter offered to take the stack from the eldest, and then carried them over to the desk to sit them down.
“After their lunch yesterday, Waylen asked me if his guards could have permission to train in the garrison. He told me they were restless sitting in their room all day." Her daughter told her, speaking in Radian, now turning away from the desk to face her mother. As soon as their daughters were old enough to talk, their father taught them to speak in Radian whenever they were in private. It is the only way to learn such a language, to speak it long and often.
“I told them that they were welcome to, and I’ve given Tann the instruction that he is not to bother them." She continued.
Waylen had brought far too many guards with him, as if Rylan had forgotten how many soldiers she had under her command. It’d been a long time since he’d come to visit, so perhaps he did. Their memories were always poor, especially after they grew old enough to see their children become grown themselves. Four of them, she grunted at that thought, leaving her daughter to tilt her head at her curiously. Yvvie shook her head to dismiss it. Theo Sundile, Edgard’s son, had had three children, though the third had died shortly after his birth. The rest of Edgard’s line had only two at most. Rylan had been greedy to want four.
“Have someone be your eyes and ears when they go to the yard." Yvvie told her as a precaution, switching from Atinan to Radian to match her daughter, as the habit of speaking Radian in private was too strong to break. He’d taught them all well.
Yvvie did not think Tann would have the tact to control himself if activity in the yard broke tradition for longer than a single day. He was frustratingly strict with keeping things the same. Too stubborn, and very irritable. He was a good choice for Commander of the Keep, since nothing ever changes inside these walls and Yvvie generally agreed with his decisions for how best to organize her guard. Outside the Keep, leadership demanded that an Atinan be more flexible. Tann would snap like a twig if you asked him to bend.
Her daughter nodded, replying that she had already given instruction to Norra to have Waylen’s men be escorted to and from their rooms. Escort that was told not to let them leave their sight. Yvvie nodded to that, agreeable to it.
“How far along are you with the tournament?" She then changed the topic back to her daughter’s affairs.
“It’s going well. The merchants and vendors have already supplied us with their materials, so I have begun construction on the tourney grounds at Soldier’s Village. It will be completed within the week, and then I will have the workers move to the Parade Grounds. Everything should be finished with time to spare." Vienna replied.
She nodded, feeling good at least about that. The tournament was the only thing that ever seemed to finish on time. She’d have a parade afterwards that took her through most of the city, and no matter who she put in charge of its planning it was never on time. She’s been hosting this parade for longer than her daughters had been alive and yet still no one has found a way to make it work as cleanly as it was written on the page. Yvvie only continued it out of tradition, and for him. For the last month she had to spend day after day working with merchants to ensure everything was purchased and ready, and then instructing her staff to run about the city to organize it. She was glad it only happened once a year. Too much work.
“Though I’ve heard that the parade is not doing so well." Her daughter had to say it, which left Yvvie curling her lip with irritation.
She glared at Vienna, who replied with one of her father’s defusing smiles.
“It’s not so bad mother. We’ve never failed to host a good parade." She told her cheerfully.
“A good parade with unfinished decorations, or awnings that collapse onto the crowd below, or a fire dance that caught something alight that was never meant to be lit aflame." She grumbled, now irritated that her glass was empty.
Thalla noticed this and stood up from her chair and walked to the desk where the bottle was sitting. They waited in silence until her glass was again full, and then for Thalla to retake her seat.
“We’ve not had anything go wrong with the fire dances since we outlawed them in certain parts of the city. I think everyone is happier with them being hosted at all of the cisterns." Vienna replied, now that her mother had something to drink again.
She took a large swallow of the red liquid, letting it spill across her tongue. There were only three alcohols of any worth in Anya Sur, and it’d been years since she’d drank two of them. She couldn’t even stomach picti anymore with its poor illusion of cold, and then unni was now too rich for her sense of taste. She used to enjoy the sweetness of it, but that was when it was rare. Anya Sur now had dozens of beekeepers working tirelessly to produce as much honey as was possible, and unni had long since become a cheap luxury. Back when Yvvie enjoyed it you would be lucky to get a single sip, as you could only afford one jug that had to be shared with far too many people in your tribe.
“It was a wise change." Thalla agreed, the Eldest now speaking in Radian out of her habit of using whatever language Yvvie was using at the time.
And of course it was wise, considering he was the one who thought of it. She took another drink.
“Did you only come to give me a report on Waylen, or did you have something else?" She then asked her daughter, since duty was now the only thing that led them to cross paths during the month of Festival.
The other woman sighed, stepping over to the desk to pick up the bottle where Thalla had left it, before walking it over to the table next to Yvvie where she sat it down.
“A duty, I suppose, if dinner is considered such. Lyrren told me earlier today that Waylen had invited you to have dinner with him, but that you had not yet given him a reply." She told her, and Yvvie frowned.
Vienna stepped back towards where she’d been standing before, watching her mother curiously.
“Why that face?" She asked with a tilt of her head.
“No one will be attending, unless you or Iolla decide to take my place." She replied.
Yvvie watched as her daughter’s demeanor immediately soured and she snorted in frustration at the argument she knew was about to start.
“Mother, why? You cannot tell him no!" Her daughter told her loudly.
Yvvie twisted her glass between her fingers, revealing her aggravation by rocking the glass back and forth in her hand. The red liquid gently swirled within it, lantern light reflecting off its bloody surface.
“I can tell him no." Yvvie replied, completely opposed to having dinner with him on his terms.
And she’d have sent that message to him earlier had she not been so distracted with so many other things. If she wasn’t trying to stop herself from strangling a group of merchants or arguing with the Atinans in charge of the parade, then she was dealing with this stack of ledgers. Days like today, when she not only had to manage the daily affairs of her kingdom, but also its monthly finances, and the stress of trying to plan a successful Festival… These were not days she liked to see wasted by idle time at dinner tables.
“Are you being rude to him on purpose?" Vienna asked her bluntly.
“I am not being rude." She scowled back at her daughter.
Even though she’d said it, a small part of why she didn’t want to have dinner with him was precisely because she’d been very rude to him. Yvvie was a great many things, but an idiot she was not. She had not handled her dinner with him very well, and her failure to send word to Rylan about her daughters’ marriages had come back to strike her hard across the snout.
Vienna openly laughed, making her scowl at her own daughter all the harder.
“You stared him down in the throne room like you were challenging him, mother." She told her incredulously.
Yvvie set her glass down on the table where it’d be safe.
“I was not challenging him." Yvvie replied, feeling blindsided by Vienna bringing up the throne room instead of that night’s dinner.
“Well, that’s what it looked like to everyone in the room, challenging a Prince of Radiah now that one has finally come to visit after almost thirty years!" Vienna angrily countered, and Yvvie bit her tongue to stop herself from correcting her daughter’s poor sense of time. It was closer to forty, since Rylan never brought his children with him when he visited, and his father before him had only brought Rylan twice, the last being shortly before his own coronation.
“I only saw him once before as a whelp, Vienna, hardly a year into life. I wanted to see who he had grown to be after so long." She said in her defense, and she was being honest when she said it.
And the Prince could hardly be called a man, being so short and whelpish! Rylan was a fool to send someone so young, Yvvie would have never sent Vienna or Iolla when they were his age! He has three other children he could have sent instead, and he sends the weakest! He was so small she felt like she was looking down at her own daughters when they were still whelps themselves, and it was insulting that Rylan would do such a stupid thing!
Thalla made a quiet noise, getting their attention.
“I am sure that it was not so ugly a scene, Vienna. Your mother is wiser than that." She tried to defend Yvvie, but what would she know, she wasn’t there! Yvvie was only growing more upset with herself.
But she was also too proud to admit it, especially to her daughter.
“Well, if you were there you would agree with me, and I am not the only one who can tell you how it looked. You can say in private you only wanted to see him, but the talk outside is that you were glaring at him like he’d done something worth taking him by the horn!" Vienna continued to grind into her. For all of the good she took from her father, she’d taken her temper from her mother.
“Thalla, I was thoughtless in the throne room." She confessed, in her own sharp way. Not fully committing to the apology as the person deserving of it was absent. She would not be apologizing to her daughter for a slight committed against someone else.
“And again, you were thoughtless at dinner, and you were apparently thoughtless for the last several years since you didn’t tell them I had married Karo! Iolla is going to marry soon, too, are you going to send them a letter for that or am I going to have to take that responsibly from you as well?" Vienna asked her, staring her down.
She didn’t get the quick answer she wanted, as Yvvie remained calm and took up her glass again, and made Vienna wait until she’d finished taking another big swallow.
“Yvvie." Thalla spoke up, and she rolled her eyes.
“You will chastise me, too?" She asked in reply.
“You have forged bad habits." Was all that came from the Eldest among the three. As if Yvvie was not aware of her own faults! She was as rich with fault as Radiah was of water, and Atina Nah was of sand.
“I hope it’s only for refusing to send letters about marriages. When Karo puts a whelp in me I would like it if Radiah were to know it! I remember when they told us Rylan and Edlan brought Waylen into the world, and his other whelps with Willow! They tell us!" Her daughter angrily continued.
Of course she was upset. She was the one to lose her temper at Waylen only to find out that it was her own mother who had delivered the insult. Yvvie could not fault her daughter for her anger, which was why she was letting her shout it out. Bleed it from her like wine pouring from the bottle, and when she was as empty of anger as that bottle would soon be of wine then perhaps her temper would finally settle itself.
She was a lot like her mother, except Yvvie preferred drinking instead of bleeding.
“When you have your whelp with Karo, I swear that a letter will be sent, as they have sent them to us." She told her daughter calmly.
“Good, I would hope so!" Her daughter replied.
“It would be wise to accept his invitation. A kind gesture to replace the ones that came before." Thalla interrupted.
Yvvie sneered again, feeling her own stubbornness rise. She took a swallow until the glass was empty.
“I have much to do, and not enough time to do it. Go in my stead." She told Vienna.
“You are not so busy that you cannot spare a single evening! Tell me what busy thing you must do, and I will do it for you." Vienna challenged her, putting her on the spot enough to make her expression sour further. “Do not frown at me like that, mother, I am no longer the whelp it works on."
“Vienna. Stop." She told her daughter firmly.
Next to her, her second assailant began to strike.
“Yvvie, is one evening truly too much to spare?" Thalla asked her.
No, it wasn’t, but she had already made up her mind, she did not want to sit and eat at a Radian table for hours on end! She had too much to do and too little time for herself to sit and recover from all that the day asks of her, every day!
“They take all evening, the both of you! Radians think the sun stops setting when they sit at the table, that it will wait for them until they are done! I will not go to him and sit and listen to idle talk all evening until nightfall! If he is like his father that is exactly what he will have me do!" She barked back at both of them.
“Then tell him you are busy! Tell him you cannot spare more than an hour! I’m sure they can arrange a short dinner if you ask, this is your house, mother, you can tell them when you arrive and when you will leave!" Vienna barked back, speaking too much sense for Yvvie to simple cast it aside as idiocy.
She slouched into her chair and reached out to brisky snatch the bottle off the table, finding it far too empty for her liking. There was only enough to partially fill her glass with what was left. Yvvie smacked the bottle back down onto the table with a hollow thud, and then tossed the wine back down her throat too fast for her to even taste it. Both women waited for her reply as Yvvie sat there silent, glowering at her own daughter. She might yet be a good Queen in her time, but that was the most irritating thing about her. She was too good at confronting her mother, and life would be so much simpler if she was more like Iolla. She snorted.
“So, is that a yes?" Her daughter asked.
She lifted herself out of her chair and stepped around her daughter to find a fresh bottle of wine from the nearby shelf. The wall was full of bottles she’d yet to open, as it was quicker to get what she wanted if she kept them here instead of the cellar by the big kitchen.
“No." She grunted, as she dug the tips of her nails into the top of the cork, then carefully popped it free. She’d done this so many times she no longer needed a screw.
“I do not understand you, mother! Just go!" She shouted, and Yvvie poured herself a new glass before plugging the bottle back tight with the cork and leaving it to rest on the table right next to the empty one.
“No! Now you can leave." She told her daughter, turning to look then at Thalla. “You, too! Papers are there, all have my seal, done."
Her daughter snorted with frustration, glaring at her. Thalla made to stand, but Vienna did not budge. Yvvie turned to her with a glare of her own, then took a drink. When her daughter refused to give in, she put the glass back down onto the table.
“Leave, Vienna." She told her daughter, her anger rising further.
“You have no excuse! You’d sooner see him go home to his father to speak of how foul you are than you would make one effort to break bread with him!" Vienna shouted.
“Leave, Vienna!" She shouted back, lips curling.
Thalla stepped forward, drawing her hands together looking at the both of them.
“Please, there is no need for so much anger between you." The Eldest urged them, but Yvvie shut her up with a glare.
“This will be settled as I see fit!" She shouted now at the eldest who quickly backed down.
“You can shout until you are hoarse, mother, but that won’t change how foul you’ve been from the moment of his arrival!" Vienna shouted, pulling Yvvie’s attention back to her.
“Shut up! Leave. Now!" She growled, making sure her teeth were showing.
Her daughter sneered in reply, showing teeth of her own.
“Shouting me silent will not work this time! There is only one person here that seems to care! Iolla won’t even speak an ill word of your behavior, so I have to shoulder it all myself!" She replied.
“Why do you care, Vienna! You have your own duties! Tend to them instead of worrying how I spend my evenings!" Yvvie shouted.
“Because father would be ashamed of what you’re doing!" Vienna shouted back; teeth bared.
Thalla took several steps back as the rage in Yvvie swelled until she burst.
“Get out! Both of you, get out!" She roared, stepping towards her daughter until they were face to face, so near they were almost touching, Vienna standing still and matching her mother’s challenge until the outer door slammed open in the distance.
Footsteps echoed until three of Yvvie’s guard were standing in the adjacent room, staring with confusion through the doorway as mother and daughter stood against one another while a silent Thalla crept towards the doorway. Yvvie did not break her gaze from her daughter’s, but she could still see that Thalla was attempting to keep her guards from interfering.
“Get. Out." Yvvie repeated herself.
Vienna stood still for a moment, until Thalla’s voice from behind urged her to leave. With two elders asking her to back down, Vienna at last sneered and pivoted sharply on her foot, then stormed out of the room and past Yvvie’s bewildered guards. With her gone, all that was left was Thalla. Yvvie snapped her fingers at her, pointed to the stack of papers she was to take, and then told her to get out. The eldest picked up the stack and left, taking the guards with her. Yvvie did not move again until she heard the outer door close. It was only then that she finally broke, sagging backwards and into her chair, sagging into its seat.
She picked up her glass and drained it as quickly as she could swallow until wine was running down the sides of her mouth. When she placed the empty glass back down on the table her hand was shaking. Yvvie reached up to wipe her mouth clean with the back of her hand, then used her thumb to wipe away the tears that were beginning to shed. He would be ashamed of her.
Ch. 12 Ch. 13 Ch. 14 Ch. 15 Ch. 16 Ch. 17
It wasn’t so long ago that it seemed we were celebrating new life. Edgard was not as old as Yvvie and I, but for a Radian, he may as well be an Eldest. Theo’s daughter has learned how to walk, and she speaks in the babbling tongue of a child fresh to words. Such things would normally be a delightful thing to see.
His children buried him today in the manner that is right for the Radian soul. They entomb their dead within the earth, wrapped in coffins made of the same wood that built their homes. Comfort in life, as well as in death. Edgard’s passing had not been kind to him. Yvvie did not show any weakness on her face, but I fear I may have let something of my own slip in the ceremony.
We knew he was dying, his letters were no longer written by his hand, but by his wife’s. When Heron made it clear that he was not going to survive another year I urged Yvvie to leave with me to see him. It takes weeks to reach them. I knew that we should be there at least one last time before he leaves us, but I am not so sure if I am happy that I made the decision now. We made it in time to attend his funeral, he’d only passed a few days before our arrival.
It was snowing when we arrived, and Castle Illian was grieving. Heron was always a small woman, even for a Radian, but with her husband gone and with her age, she seemed so frail. His sons stood strong, and Yvvie would later tell me she was proud that Edgard’s sire were durable enough to weather his passing.
This is when I learned that it is customary to view the dead one last time before they are buried. It was a time of morning, and reflection. The family and friends of the deceased gather together, and Edgard’s all gathered for him. It was a somber affair.
I never want to see the face of the dead again. This is not how I wanted to remember Edgard. I do not know what affliction of age took him, but he did not pass with peace. It was etched onto his face, and I could just barely control myself until I was alone with Yvvie in our guest room.
“You’ve seen death before." She tried to console me in her own way.
I have seen it!
But Radians do not age like we do! His face was paler than I’ve ever seen it, skin wrinkled and crackled like dry earth. He was no longer himself; he did not look like the man I knew from before. When we die, we retain our dignity, and then what is left after our passing is burned at the pyre. There is much I have come to love and admire about Radiah, but I cannot stomach how they die. I wish to never see it again, but I have many more years of life in me, and Edgard’s children have so very few. I will have to watch them all die.
“I don’t know if that is the wisest thing to do." Shane worried.
“But he’s right!" Marissa spoke up in Waylen’s defense.
The drawing room was awash with the smell of food being cooked. In the kitchen Margo and Christa were preparing dinner. Marissa would have been there, too, but she was currently busy helping plan the next step of the night’s meal. Since Her Majesty had rejected his invitation to dinner, Princess Vienna and her husband had offered to join him in her stead.
It had occurred to Waylen that it would be a good idea for him to personally go to the Princess and escort her back to his rooms where they were going to have their dinner. The breakfast table in the drawing room was really only fit to seat two people if you were serving food, so it had been removed and replaced with a larger one that could comfortably seat more. That should be plenty of room since only three people would be sitting at it tonight.
“You’ve already offended one of them by accident, what if this is also offensive to them! They’ve only ever come to fetch you and never the other way!" Shane replied.
“We’ve already asked Ser Lyrren if I could do this, and he didn’t offer any complaint. He’s never failed to correct me if I’ve made a mistake, so I think we are fine." Waylen replied in return.
Waylen had an ulterior motive for wanting to personally escort the Princess. He’d only mentioned it to Marissa, since Shane would panic if you knew about it, too. What he hoped to do was deliberately insult them, but through the execution of kindness. Since Her Majesty had rejected his invitation, and considering her attitude the few times he’d met with her, he thought that going that extra step of graciously escorting both her daughter and son-in-law to his rooms for dinner as if he were a servant would turn into a benefit. An act of graciousness that would shame them for their lack of it.
Also, Princess Vienna, for all that Waylen could tell, was not like her mother. She seemed to be polite, and very aware of her mother’s sour temperament. If Waylen personally brought her and her husband to dinner that might trigger feelings of guilt in her, and in turn that may provoke some change from Her Majesty.
Or it would do nothing and be taken simply as a kind gesture. He didn’t think for a moment that it would hurt him in kind, but if there was that narrow chance that Princess Vienna might feel enough guilt over her mother snubbing their Radian guest that she’d exert some influence over Her Majesty, then he’d take it.
“I am just anxious; I would not want us to overstep our bounds." The older man then told him.
“Lots of things make you anxious." Marissa told him.
The kitchen door then opened, and Christa’s head popped out, calling for Marissa to tell her that the pudding was done. Marissa quickly excused herself to run to the kitchen. They’d been given a recipe for the picti mal dessert they’d been served at the luncheon a days prior, and now the girls were trying to replicate it.
“It will be fine, Shane. Let me try my idea and we shall see if they appreciate it or not." He told him.
The older man sighed in reply, then nodded in defeat.
Marissa then came back out of the kitchen with a spoon and offered it to Waylen. Sitting on it was a small white lump of what could have only been the pudding.
“Am I to try it?" He asked.
“Well, of course, yes!" She shook the spoon gently at him, and he took it and gave it a taste. He swirled it around in his mouth and allowed himself a good lengthy moment to savor it before handing the spoon back to her. She was standing impatiently waiting for his input.
“I think it tastes fine." He told her.
“But does it taste like what they made for us?" She demanded to know. Christa was standing in the kitchen doorway like she was waiting for his answer, too.
But Waylen could only shrug.
“I don’t know. I’ve only tasted it the one time. I think it tastes the same, but you would have to ask a dragon if it’s correct." He told her honestly.
She turned away from him and looked over at Christa, then told her to grab more spoons and put some pudding on all them. The young girl darted back into the kitchen and a few moments later came back with four more spoons spread across both hands.
“Shane, make yourself useful and help Christa feed the dragons outside, and ask them if they think it tastes like it should." She told Shane, making Waylen smile.
The old man didn’t protest it, either. Shane stood up and told Christa to come along with him, and the two started off towards the door. Christa did not look happy, as she was still very uneasy being around dragons. Only after the two opened the door and made their exit did Marissa say anything else.
“I don’t think it matters if it tastes the same, because I’m going to have small cakes made for it. One layer of cake at the bottom, then a layer of pudding, and then another layer of cake. I’m going to coat it all in a thin layer of white icing, then drop a big dollop of pudding on top along with some that green mint garnish they use." She explained, walking Waylen through the dessert just as much with her hands as with her words.
“How small are the cakes?" He asked.
She then made a circle with both her thumbs and index fingers that was a few inches across.
“Like the little ones I make for your birthday." She replied.
He smiled, those were good cakes, though the one she just described was a bit different from the ones she would make for him.
“Chocolate?" He asked, since that’s the flavor he always wanted her to make.
She sighed.
“I don’t know if that would taste good. Chocolate and mint does not sound like it would pair well to me." She told him.
“It’s chocolate, Marissa. I want you to try it. It might be very interesting, and we can tell them that you wanted to… Mix Atinan and Radian desserts. It would be a kind gesture." He told her.
“Well, that’s what I was wanting to do in the first place! I just don’t know if chocolate is the best way to do it, but I’ll do it since you like it." She relented and then looked over at the doorway leading out.
“How is the rest of dinner coming along?" He asked her.
“Oh, very good. I’ve never had to cook camel before, but the meat is behaving as meat should behave, so I think the shepherd’s pie will turn out fine. The peas and cornbread will be fine, as well. I wish you would let me cook more than just this. This will not be much of a feast, Waylen." She replied, complaining to him again about the meager meal she and the girls were preparing.
But dragons did not seem to be the sort to cook nearly as much as food as one would suspect, being that they were so much larger than a Radian. So, Waylen had decided that a modest meal would be better than a grand feast of one. So long as the food was distinctly Radian, that would be enough to satisfy.
Though he wasn’t happy that the shepherd’s pie was going to have camel in it, he’d make himself eat it since that’s what the dragons apparently enjoy the most. The rest of the food being prepared would be no different from what he’d have had back home, and Marissa was continuously surprised at how much access she had to ingredients here. The fields in Anya Sur apparently grew a wide range of fruits and vegetables, the weather and good care permitting. He didn’t know how they managed to grow things in such heat and beneath so much harsh sunlight, but somehow the dragons had found a way.
The door opened, Shane and Christa now returning with the young girl shutting the door behind them.
“Four dragons tasted, and all of them said that the pudding tasted like picti mal." Shane told Marissa.
“Good! Christa, go run and tell Margo that the pudding is good, then check on anything else she thinks needs checking." She told the girl, who quickly raced off with the spoons to the kitchen.
The older man heaved a big sigh and came back over to the table.
“The ones outside do not speak any Radian. That Captain Norra was missing, gone somewhere else." He said, taking a seat at the table.
“Well, you speak Atinan, Shane." Marissa reminded him.
“Yes, but the more time I spend talking to them the more I fear I do not speak it as well as I should. I was only trying to ask them to try the dessert and to tell me if it tastes as it should." He replied
“Were you unable to?" Waylen asked.
“No, I was able, but I know how much they can butcher our language, and I now feel that I am butchering theirs in kind. They seemed confused by what I was asking them, and I don’t think it was because I was breaking a custom or the like. I think they were actually struggling to understand what I was saying to them. I did finally get them to understand, and they all said that it tastes right to them." Shane replied, sounded dejected.
“You don’t get many opportunities to speak it in Radiah." Waylen said in his defense.
“This is true, but that is not an adequate excuse when dragons like that Ser Lyrren can speak as we do like he was born to it! We’ve fallen, Waylen! I do not think anyone in Illian understands how little we know about Anya Sur." He continued, now sounding depressed.
Waylen felt uncomfortable, but he couldn’t disagree with the older man.
“You’re right, we have." He said after a moment.
“Let me go check on the girls." Marissa said, then left them alone.
“Father did send us here to learn. We will have a great deal to tell him when we return." Waylen added.
Shane shook his head, then sat himself up straight and exhaled a deep sigh.
“He is going to learn things he did not want to learn. We’ve not even made it to the Festival and we’re already learning that we know nothing, Waylen! We do not know the nature of their armies, we don’t know their language, nor their customs, it’s like we’ve spent these decades of peace learning to forget! I trusted those that came before me to pass their knowledge down to me, and now I think that every generation just let go of more and more until all that’s left is scraps!" Shane was actually angry with frustration now.
“Shane let’s stay calm. We’re here now and we will figure out the gaps in what we know. Most of what we’re missing isn’t important, and the parts that are we can find solutions for." Waylen replied, not knowing how he’d even begin to do any of that.
How were they going to find solutions for any of this?
“We could use this as a good chance to discover what we need to learn most. Like how to speak their language better." He continued to say.
“We used to speak it! King Edgard, may he rest, learned it and taught it to all his children! Your great-grandfather King Theo spoke it! We’ve fallen." Shane sounded depressed now, his anger having fizzled out as he sagged into his chair.
“Maybe so, but we haven’t lost the ability to stand. We are here to learn, and that’s what we shall do." Waylen tried to muster the confidence and optimism he knew Shane normally had at the table.
Shane did relent, nodding with agreement, but his mood was soured.
“Go back outside and ask one of the guards to find Ser Lyrren. I would like to ask him myself when it would be appropriate to go and fetch Her Highness." He told the older man, who nodded and picked himself up from his chair.
As he left the room Waylen heaved a deep sigh. This was a lot more weight than he felt ready to carry. Nyle or Parr would have handled this better. They had more experience dealing with difficult things like this, and Waylen could only hope his struggle would amount to something better than nothing. All that something could be at this point was a list of all that they had forgotten.
If his father wanted to tap the Treaty with his finger to summon the dragons to his side, he honestly didn’t know how Her Majesty would react to that. They’d never refused the call before, but it had also been a long time since it had been done. Well before he’d been born, during his grandfather’s youth, he was pretty certain.
With the friendship so cold between Radiah and Atina Nah, would Her Majesty be so easily convinced to send troops on short notice? What would it take to motivate her into a war that doesn’t involve her or her people. He couldn’t imagine his father being willing to do the same for her if she sent a request for aid. Or, at least, he would not be eager to do it. Perhaps he would, but on his terms. Why wouldn’t Her Majesty do the same? Dictate the terms of what and how, deciding how she answers the Treaty’s call.
Waylen had only read the Treaty of Five Kings a few times, and that was a few years ago. A tutor had instructed him to read a large number of important documents, treaties and trade agreements. All Waylen remembered was that the Treaty was written so that Atina Nah was in debt to Radiah, and the payment was for them to send military aid whenever they are asked. The only limit to it that he could recall was in the name itself, Five Kings. The Treaty was to last through the reign of five kings of Radiah, starting with his great-grandfather, Theo Sundile. Waylen’s father, Rylan, would be the 3rd king.
He sighed again, then picked himself up from his chair to make his way to the kitchen. He asked Marissa how much time she needed before dinner would be ready for serving. She did more than answer him, telling Codi to run to the bedroom to pull out Waylen’s other green tunic so he wouldn’t be seen wearing the same outfit so soon after the other.
It did not take long for Shane to return, his call for Ser Lyrren being sent by one of the guards outside, and shortly after that the slender dragon appeared at his door. Between Marissa and Ser Lyrren, it was clear that there would be another hour to go before it would be time to go and fetch Her Highness. Until then he had only to change his clothes and be lost in his own thoughts.
It’s been well past a year since Edgard died, but my thoughts keep drifting back towards death. I feel like a dark shroud has been cast around me, and the only time I can shake myself free of it is whenever I’m well occupied by something. When I’m working, I am fine, or when I distract myself with Yvvie, but any time I catch myself in a quiet moment I always drift back.
His littlest grandchild will grow up not remembering their grandfather. That is how it is with Atinans, too, when the timing of life and death brush too close to one another. One life ends too soon after another has only just begun. It’s left me thinking too much. I don’t want to think so much on sad things, the regrets. I did not speak privately with Edgard nearly enough to know what his regrets might have been, but he surely had many. We all do.
I am no longer as young as I once was, but Yvvie still has her youth about her. I know I won’t die for a very long time from now, but she has so much more left in her than I do. I do not want to leave this world with any regrets, and I especially do not want her to have any of her own. She’s so angry all the time, and all for good reason.
The other day I stole time from Thalla. She’s as old as I am and has wisdom of her own that I’ve come to trust. After confiding in her, she tells me my sadness is natural, because I spent the last thirty or so years of my life walking a path marked by death. Same as Yvvie, same as so many other Atinans across all of Atina Nah. We’ve all been touched by death in all the worst ways. We’ve felt the pain of loss too many times for our spirits to shrug off like it was but a blanket unwanted.
Thalla told me to have a child with Yvvie. Create life and raise it, instead of dwelling on the dead we’ve left behind. I struggle to imagine Yvvie allowing me to sire a child with her. She loves me, but she clings to her fear so tightly, wrapping her anger around it like a shell. She’s already lost family dear to her, her first husband and her only child. How can I ask her to bring another life into a world that she still fears is filled with death?
How can I ask myself to do the same when my own wife is dead?
Yvvie will no doubt tell me that she will not see another child of hers die. She’s seen enough children die. I, too, have seen enough dead children, but we fought a war to change this land! We tore the barbarism out of Anya Sur, and in its place built this city where every tribe now gathers peacefully. I will still ask her if only because Atina Nah needs an heir to its throne. If she cannot find a reason of her own to bring life into the world, then perhaps a sense of duty will.
We were both selfish enough to take new partners after our firsts were taken from us by violence. Atina Nah does not take kindly to those that ask for too much of Her. I can only pray that She will be kind enough to allow us children without seeing to it that we are punished for our greed.
She shouldn’t have been nervous and yet here she was pacing back and forth on her balcony just like her mother would have done. Her private rooms were high above the city below, her large balcony looking down at Anya Sur with a stunning view that very few got to see for themselves. It took the strength of three stone pillars to keep the ceiling from collapsing, the rock face having long since been knocked out in favor of the view.
Her father had once told her that these rooms were meant for guests, but after she’d been born, he had them turned into a set of rooms just for her. Since entering adulthood she’d made small changes to them herself. At the center of her balcony was now a shallow pool of sand carved into the stone floor, only a foot in depth so that she could train in the sand without ever needing to step a foot outside.
“Please sit." Her husband told her with a deep sigh. He was sitting at the nearby table watching her walk back and forth.
Vienna Fah Ro’Un stopped her pacing and looked at him, then replied with a sigh of her own before pivoting on her heel to march towards the table, her hands tightly clasped behind her back. When she reached the table, she dropped into an empty seat across from him.
“You are not going out into battle, Vienna. He is only a footstep into adulthood, so don’t be so nervous." Her husband chided her with a smile.
“Be polite, Karo." She scolded him.
“I do not mean disrespect, but you are not acting like yourself. Recognize that he is very young and frail. It is he that should be anxious, not you. Does your behavior not sound odd?" He asked her with a tap of his fingernail on the table.
She made the face she always made when she wanted to sneer like her mother but stopped herself partway through the act. It took effort to not lapse into habits inherited from her mother. Karo chuckled, knowing deeply her inner thoughts and mannerisms now that they had been married for eight years. Eight was but a blink of an eye for Atinans in wedlock, but it was still time enough for the two of them to share their minds and bodies until they felt they were as one. That feeling would only grow stronger with time, and she could only wonder how much better he’d read her in the future, and she him.
Now that there were two of them, her rooms here were insufficient for their needs. Karo still maintained his home out in the Queen’s Village where many of his personal belongings remained. He had to make regular trips back and forth from the Keep and to his residence. It was not a proper way for a married couple to live, and so arrangements were being made for the two of them to take up new residence in another part of the Keep, but that was at least a year or two away from being completed. It took time to carve changes into the rock of Anya Sur.
“I just want this to go well. Better than his first dinner with us." She confessed.
“Oh, I know it will! You will do fine, so save your worries for me! I can’t speak his tongue!" He smiled broadly at her.
“Say his name for me." She told him, and he stopped smiling, then exhaled.
He said the Prince’s name, doing his best to bring life to each word, shaping them into the right sounds. Radian was a soft language with many complexities. Her husband did his best, but the Atinan way of speaking was too strong. It was a challenge to suppress, and she could remember all the times her father would tell her that in order to speak Radian as well as Atinan she must learn to speak with two voices instead of one.
If you spoke Radian with the voice of an Atinan you would butcher their tongue, giving shape to words that were difficult to understand, and likewise the voice of a Radian was not well suited to Atinan. Learning their language was not just a matter of knowing their words but knowing how to speak as they spoke. Karo did not know how to speak as the Radians did, but in time he would. He was already listening to Radian almost daily, picking up words as he went about his daily duties.
“Waylen Sundile." She replied, and slowly at that, enunciating each sound carefully for her husband.
He sighed and repeated his name, doing slightly better now that he’d just heard it correctly.
“Do not say the duh so harshly, soften it. Sundile." She helped him, and he tried again, and she was happier with the result.
“I will struggle with the rest if I cannot say even his name." He chuckled at himself.
“Most struggle. Mother and father both said as much to me when I was still a whelp." She told him, and he nodded.
“He seems to not be struggling, at least not at the moment." He told her with a smile. She tilted her head at him then, unsure of what he meant. Maybe after a few more years of marriage she’d stop tilting her head at him.
“He cannot speak Atinan." She told him flatly, confused.
“When he arrived, he took Eldest Thalla by the hand! And yet now here he is coming to fetch us for dinner. I doubt Lyrren or the Eldest both would have taught him that." He went and explained himself.
She leaned her back against the chair, then licked her teeth as she considered what he’d just told her. Vienna couldn’t say for certain.
“I don’t know. Father liked to tell stories about his trips to Radiah and they always waited to be fetched for anything the Radians had planned. Waylen may just be doing what is normal to him, not learning our ways like you think." She replied.
“But that was in Radiah, their city of Illian. Waylen is here, and we have been fetching him every day for everything we have planned. That is their way, is it not? He is breaking that tradition to come to us. I shall choose to believe that he is a very clever whelp." He smiled.
“Do not say that in front of my mother." She replied with a halfhearted glare, and he just grinned at her.
“Which part? Calling him a whelp or complimenting his wit?" He smiled at her.
“Either! She’s already irritated, Karo. Don’t remind her how young he is and telling her you think he is clever will just make her think he’s going to start acting like Iolla when she was his age." She fussed at her husband.
Her sister, despite her frailty, had always tried to do as she saw everyone else do, and with her clever mind she got herself into as much trouble as Vienna had. Except, when that trouble resulted in injury, Iolla could not heal as quickly nor as painlessly as everyone else could. Their mother was always afraid of her getting hurt, and that was one of the reasons she was so upset that Waylen had been the one chosen to be sent to Anya Sur.
“I would never antagonize your mother like that." Her husband replied. He had not been in their lives when she and her sister were young, but she’d told him the stories.
“Be sure that you remember. I cannot handle so many arguments with her in such a short time." She lamented. Karo had heard all about that, too.
He stood up, and her instinct was to join him, but he gestured with a hand for her to remain seated. He stepped around behind her chair and put his hands over her shoulders.
“Don’t think about that. Think about dinner, and how nervous you are to share a table with a little whelp from Radiah." He told her, looking down at her from overhead.
“Karo, don’t call him little." She scolded him again, her husband too quick and loose with his tongue whenever he was in private.
“Let me get to know him first." He told her, then leaned down.
She sighed and lifted her snout for him, and their noses touched gently. She felt his hands slide to her neck, grasping her gently before giving her a kiss on her forehead. Vienna exhaled a sigh, and reached up to grab his hands, giving them a squeeze.
When a light knock came at her door, she felt her husband’s hands jump. He’d been much too distracted with consoling her.
“He arrives early." He told her.
“As I have been warned. He is an impatient one." She replied and then stood up from her chair.
She turned to look at her husband, wearing what her father would have called a mixture of Radian and Atinan attire. It was such a rare thing to see an Atinan wear, and yet Vienna thought it best that Karo wear something that would seem familiar to Waylen without bringing her husband too much discomfort.
Vienna quickly reached out to grab the front of his tunic, adjusting the fabric around his buttons so that it would not seem crooked. The red cloth from their wedding ceremony was wrapped around her husband’s shoulders, and she touched her hands to it, too, adjusting it carefully. She should be wearing her own cloth, but it was not something fit to be worn with the tunic of a soldier.
“Calm, Vienna." He told her, taking her by the hands and pushing them back down to her sides before taking her then by the shoulders to direct her towards the doorway.
She sighed and allowed him to lead her to the door, and when she reached it, she opened it to find Waylen standing there wearing a tunic dyed to an emerald hue, his fist raised as if to knock. He quickly lowered it to his chest and saluted her in the manner that was customary for a Radian. Standing behind him were both Norra and Lyrren.
“Good evening, Prince Waylen Sundile." She said to him in greeting, Vienna now speaking in Radian for the Prince’s benefit, drawing her own hand up in salute as was their own custom.
“And good evening to you as well, Princess Vienna Fah Ro’Un. I hope that you and your husband are ready to join me for dinner tonight?" He replied with a subtle bow.
She smiled, looking down on him and being unable to stifle the reaction her mother must have had every time she saw him. He was barely as tall as a whelp who’d just come of age. He was so short that even Vienna had to remind herself that he was not so young as he seemed. When she’d walked him to the garrison yard, she had to keep telling herself that she was speaking to an adult, reminding herself not to dumb down her speech like he was too young to know better. He was far too well spoken and mature to be a Radian whelp, not that she’d ever met one to know for certain.
Mother and father both had, she knew, but that was a long time ago and Vienna had never been given permission to leave Atina Nah to visit Radiah. There was a part of her that held great regret that she was never able to see Radiah the same way they had, to meet some of these far way people she’d heard so many stories about from her father.
“We are very! We both thank you for inviting us, and please, you may enter. I would like to introduce you to my husband." She smiled at him, taking a step back and beckoning him to cross the threshold of her door.
Behind Waylen, Norra was of placid expression, but Lyrren had the look of surprise. Inviting someone into your home was reserved only for those that were of your own kin, or those who’d proven themselves as loyal friends who were so close to you that they may as well be kin themselves. Waylen was a stranger, and yet she knew from her parents that in Radiah they were much more relaxed with whom they invited into their homes, and both her parents were repeatedly welcomed into Castle Illian, the home of the Sundile Royal Family.
She could not be rude and deny Waylen entry, especially since she’d lost her temper at him at dinner because her mother had been fool enough to not send word to Radiah that she’d married. It was time to make right and introduce him to Karo.
She stepped further back and allowed the young Radian to enter. He seemed in good spirits, by her best estimation. Radian faces were as expressive as any Atinan’s were, but their shape was strange. Their features were flat, like you’d struck them across the face with the flat of a sword. She would not stoop to calling them ugly, just very strange to look at, especially with how old their eyes were.
Waylen was so young and yet his eyes were a rich green like she remembered her father’s being. She smiled at the memory.
She directed Waylen with a wave of the hand to look toward her husband. Waylen was already eyeing Karo, but had respectfully waited until being introduced, which she then did.
“This is my husband, Karo Er Ton’Vas. He has not yet learned Radian so he cannot speak to you the way he would like, but I can speak for him." She introduced her husband, at last correcting her mother’s error.
She then turned to Karo and told him in Atinan to go ahead and introduce himself as he would if Waylen had been Atinan himself. Vienna waited as her husband drew his hand up and offered a salute, respectfully bowing his head before introducing himself very eloquently. She smiled warmly at her husband, wishing that he could speak so well in Radian that Waylen could hear it for himself. Karo was always very well spoken, a man with a mind and tongue so gifted that he reminded her of her father.
Though Vienna had never heard her mother say it, she felt that Karo must have reminded her of her father, too. It had genuinely surprised her that her mother had not criticized her for her choice of et’nol. She had seemed quite pleased, which in hindsight was a humorous memory since Vienna had been prepared to argue with her, only for all her practice and pacing in her room to be for naught.
Karo kept his words brief, and when she turned back to Waylen to repeat what he’d said in Radian, she embellished it a little for her husband’s benefit.
“I am happy to meet you, Prince Waylen Sundile, and I am glad that you found us worthy to share a seat at your table. I have never eaten the food from your homeland, but I am excited to discover what you have in store for both of us. Tonight will be a special meal for us, the first of what I hope will lead to many more." She finished, having added a little bit more to the ending.
She watched as Waylen smiled; the Radian having been watching her husband while she spoke like he was trying to keep his attention on the man who’d spoken the words instead of the woman who was translating them. He nodded his head to Karo respectfully, and she was beginning to feel much better about their meeting.
“And it is a pleasure to meet you in return, and I am proud knowing that I am the first of my family that gets to treat you both to dinner. We are very far away from Radiah, but my servants have worked very hard to make sure that everything will be as it should, no different than how we would treat you in our homeland." The Prince replied, Vienna smiling and repeating it all back to her husband in Atinan.
Waylen then turned to her.
“I do not know what is customary to do now, Your Highness." He began to say, and she tilted her head as she was not quite sure what custom he was asking about.
“Should I take you and your husband to dinner now, or would that be rude to leave so soon?" He asked, and then she smiled at herself for not jumping to the right conclusion sooner. Of course, he would not know what to do next if he was trying to do as was custom for an Atinan.
Karo was right, he was a clever whelp. Mother would be so very pleased; she thought wryly to herself.
“No! You are right to take us now, you may lead the way." She replied to him with a smile, then quickly turned to her husband to tell him in a few words that they were now to leave.
Karo nodded and stepped forward to stand beside her as Waylen nodded to them both before turning on his heel to leave the room. They followed the young Radian, and when he was in the hallway, he told Lyrren they were now going back to his rooms. Though she and her husband were following Waylen, he was following Norra and Lyrren as he likely would not know the way well enough to do it himself.
Two of her guards were following behind them now, and she was considering having them turn back once they reached Waylen’s rooms. There was no need to have so many guards standing watch outside for dinner. She could steal two of Norra’s guards to satisfy her mother’s anxiety and have them walk her and Karo back to her rooms after dinner was concluded.
If dinner was to be as long winded as her mother had feared it would be, she didn’t want to make Raun and Torca wait outside for that long.
As they walked, Waylen explained a little of what they would be serving tonight. He asked if she or Karo had ever had a shepherd’s pie, and she had to confess that she had not. Karo would of course have no idea what that would even be, as even Vienna had never heard of it. She knew what a pie was, a dessert that her mother and father had both told her about before. She struggled to believe a dessert would be served as the main course for dinner!
“There will also be something we call cornbread; it’s a special kind of bread that we like to serve along with vegetables." The young Radian continued.
As he spoke, Vienna would quietly translate for her husband, and it seemed that Waylen was purposely speaking slowly and giving longer pauses between anything that he would say. It made it easier for her to relay what he was saying to Karo, which was appreciated.
“If he continues in this way then there will be no surprises left for us at the table." Karo replied, and she was suddenly grateful that he could not speak Radian.
To His Highness’ ears it likely sounded like he had asked a question, and she was answering, but she was actually scolding. Just let the young man talk about his dinner, he’s trying to be kind! Karo wore a smile as they continued the rest of the way to the guest rooms, and as her husband had said there were no surprises to be found at that table. Waylen had done a very good job of explaining everything that would be served tonight.
None of Norra’s guards were at their posts, but the hallway was not empty. Vienna had to smile at this, as what she was seeing instead were several of Waylen’s own soldiers, each standing in their proper places as His Highness’ guards. The elder Radian of their group, the one named Shane, waited for them. He greeted them with a deep bow, then opened the door for their small group as they made their approach. Waylen stepped ahead of them before turning to face them both.
“Please, you may enter." Waylen gesturing for them to step inside first, the young man moving to the side to give them the luxury. Vienna politely thanked them, then quickly whispered to her husband to follow her lead. She entered first, followed by her husband, and then Waylen came in last behind them.
Once inside, she had to ask herself when was the last time she’d stood in this room, and the answer was many years. Since Radians so seldom came to visit, these rooms stood empty most of the time. Only servants entered them to water the plants and ensure that the rooms remained clean of dust.
“It was fortunate that Ser Lyrren was able to help find us a better table. Please, you may both sit!" Waylen stepped around them and approached the only table in the drawing room, a large round item that must have been stolen from elsewhere in the Keep. It only had three chairs, which was exactly as needed, though it could have seated as many as five or six.
“Thank you, Your Highness." She told him, then gave her husband a glance and a whisper and he then in turned thanks the young man as well.
They sat. Norra and Lyrren, along with their escorts, had been left outside. Now the pair were surrounded by Radians. The women that served His Highness were the only ones present, save the much younger looking male. That one must have surely been a whelp, as he was even shorter than Waylen. Perhaps taking mother’s place was for the best.
She tried to admire the table arrangement. It was very different from what she was accustomed to, and everything was in the wrong spot! And why were there extra forks and spoons? She thought it was all very odd, but it was the centerpiece of the table that was drawing the majority of her attention. A large steel platter sat in the middle of the table, and it was covered in thick slices of bread, which all appeared to be moist and sprinkled with flecks of green seasoning.
Waylen joined them, sitting across from where the two of them sat, and as soon as that was done his servants appeared. Three women came, bringing them small glasses of a dark steaming liquid before a separate pitcher was placed on the table for them.
“I’m having Radian tea served first, but you can have unni or picti nef if you would like, or even wine if you would like that as well." He told them, one of the women now bringing an empty wine glass to sit next to Waylen’s side.
She thanked him, then turned to her husband to tell him the liquid in the glass was Radian tea, and that he could have any choice of alcohol. He replied that he would like unni since it was being offered. Vienna replied that both she and her husband would like the unni, and one of the other women left to a side room where Vienna knew the kitchen was.
“You may go ahead and try the bread; it’s there for us until the main course arrives." The Radian told them, before reaching out his hand to take up a piece for himself and delivering it to the small plate in front of him.
She conveyed this to her husband and they each took up slices for themselves. It was wet to the touch, very moist like it had been soaked in something oily. Was this what he had called cornbread? There were no vegetables, unless the flecks of green were the vegetables? It had a curious smell, the spices used were familiar to her but never had she seen a cook use them in this way. She took a bite.
The taste of it was… She hoped that their host would not notice her expression. It was soggy, drenched in oil all through! What a strange way to serve bread! She ate it anyway, being very polite and patient with her bites. It was too rich for her taste, the strength of the oil with the spices far too much. If she was to eat something with so much power to it, then she would have much preferred something meatier.
“I cannot taste the bread for the flavor." Karo told her. Neither could she.
She replied to him that one day a Radian might sit at their table that can understand Atinan, and then she lied to Waylen that both she and her husband enjoyed the bread. The unni came out of the kitchen along with a bottle of wine. They were served their unni while she took a second piece of bread out of guilt and urged her husband to do the same.
It was a delicate matter to maintain a conversation in two languages, as her instincts kept coaxing her into wanting to speak in Radian in such a private setting. Apart from her moments with Karo, she mostly found herself speaking Atinan only when she was performing her duties as heir and as the Commander of the Armies.
“Soon, I will be able to take you to the tournament grounds." She changed the subject away from food. “It will not be complete, but I believe you will see it well enough to understand it."
“I would like that very much! I have spent a lot of time thinking about the tournament, and I think it may be the part of the Festival that most excites me." He replied.
Perhaps he was a still whelp after all, and she was so grateful her mother was not here. The younger the Atinan the more intense their love for Festival. Older Atinans loved the Festival, too, but it was the nature of the young to admire the excitement and spectacle. And a spectacle it was, often with no deeper meaning to the average whelp. The fighting in the tournament, the delicious food and drink, the many fire dances all across the city. And very little responsibility. Most, save for the most ardent of workers, stopped what they were doing for the Festival and only enjoyed their holiday. And there were no chores for whelps on Festival.
“Most in the city enjoy watching it. When you get to see it for yourself you will struggle to count the number of onlookers as they gather around the tournament grounds." She told him, then quietly whispered to her silent husband that she was telling Waylen about the upcoming tournament. He merely nodded in acceptance.
The kitchen door opened, and their dinner came out on a serving cart. All conversation stopped as the three women from Waylen’s group took away the small plates from in front of them and replaced them with larger plates. Then, upon that plate, there was placed another, but smaller, plate that had a steaming pie sitting in its center. Why so many plates!
And the shepherd’s pie really was a dessert! She had to control her expression so tightly, as they could not possibly…
“I believe your mother lied to you about her reasons for not coming. She did not want to eat soggy bread and dessert for dinner." Karo said with a smile, and Vienna felt herself flush hot. Mortified.
She was so very blessed that Waylen was not gifted with their tongue!
“The shepherd’s pie was made with camel, since I was told that is the best meat to use for a celebration." He told them both with a smile while the women produced more food from the cart.
Camel in a dessert! She could feel her face struggling to contain her confusion while her husband passed her a worried glance. Meat! Inside a dessert!
“I was not told we were celebrating, Your Highness. What is the occasion?" She asked him while a single plate was brought around the table to rest in the empty space where someone else could have sat. That plate contained a large, flat, yellow and brown disc of bread, which was then sliced into wedges while one of the other women brought out a serving bowl filled with peas. She understood what the peas were, at least!
“I would not consider this a celebration, but I am very happy to have dinner with you again. I have been in Anya Sur for a while now but have not had many chances to speak with you, your sister, or Her Majesty." Waylen replied while one of the women slipped a large serving spoon into the bowl of peas.
Fresh plates were then brought, small ones, and set next to each of them. So many plates, so many forks, so many spoons, there was hardly any space to rest one’s elbows!
“We are both glad you invited us, Prince Waylen. Perhaps the occasion we celebrate is that you are able to meet my husband. I must apologize to you for my mother’s failure to introduce him to you and your family sooner." She replied, being forced to address a grievance that still stung.
“And I am glad to meet him, or I should say that I am glad to meet you, Ser Karo." Waylen replied, and Karo chuckled then turning to look at her.
“No, not Ser." She replied, then quickly whispering a translation of what Waylen had said to her husband.
“They must not teach their whelps anything about us in Radiah, educate him please." He chuckled more, Vienna finding one of those rare moments where her husband irritated her, as she would have hated for the Prince to have heard what her husband had said.
Waylen, meanwhile, only seemed confused.
“Ser is not Karo’s title. You may address him as His Highness, or Prince, same as I may do for you." She corrected him.
Waylen seemed thoughtful then.
“I see, I’m very sorry. I had thought I understood something about the words you use, but I have made a mistake." He replied, and to her best judgement he seemed embarrassed now.
The women all left the table, as it seemed that now dinner had been properly served.
“Everyone that I have seen wearing white clothing, like His Highness is now, has been addressed as Ser, much like Ser Lyrren. I thought it was the correct word to use, especially since both your husband and Ser Lyrren wear the red cloth around their necks." The Radian tried to explain himself.
“Oh, no." She felt a little better, allowing herself to laugh a little. “The red cloth is from our wedding ceremony. It is a tradition to wear it for formal gatherings like this one. Lyrren only wears his every day because he is a very sentimental sort of man."
The Radian seemed thoughtful then, before nodding.
“I would like to learn more about your language, Princess Vienna, and your people. There is much I do not know, and I feel guilty for coming to Anya Sur so ill prepared." He seemed to confess.
Karo was casting a glance at her, unable to understand anything between Waylen and his wife. She did not know how best to respond, but her father would have been overjoyed to sit in her place had he been alive to do it. Vienna then found herself feeling sentimental herself, his absence suddenly very strong in her heart. She could hear his voice in her head, and she replied in the way that she thought he might have done.
“So long as you are here, Your Highness, then you are always learning. When the Festival comes and goes, if you choose to stay a while longer, then I am certain I can find someone who can teach you something of Atina Nah so that you may take it home with you." She replied, smiling.
It was nothing so elegant as what her father would have said, but that was not a skill she inherited. Iolla was much better with her words. All Vienna was good at was fighting. Like her mother.
Waylen looked very happy then, wearing a smile.
“I would like that! But our dinner is growing cold. Please, join me." He replied through his smile, taking up his fork and knife to poke a hole in the top of the pie, steam breaking free.
She quietly recounted to her husband what they’d said to each other, finishing at last with Karo nodding to her. To his credit he tried to use the fork and knife as Waylen was using his. This was a very strange meal, a pie that was not a dessert but rather like a stew baked within a flaky crust. It was very odd, but it was filled with tender camel meat with a rich and savory gravy. It had a mixture of vegetables in it, as well. A curious, but delicious meal.
Waylen asked for her small plate, and she offered it to him, and he moved a slice of the equally strange bread to it, and then he asked for Karo’s plate. She repeated the exchange of providing the plate and receiving a piece of bread in return.
“You can eat the cornbread on its own, but its best if you mix it with peas like I am doing." He explained to them, using his fork to break apart the yellow breading until it fell into a crumbled mess. With the large spoon he scooped out a large helping of peas from the bowl and poured them over the crumbled bread.
Karo stuck his fork into the bread and picked up a piece of it, then put it in his mouth. He chuckled then, looking at her with this big grin.
“It’s cake. Sweet cake with peas." He said with an toothy smile.
She was embarrassed again, wanting to take her husband by one of his horns to drag him away from the table.
“My husband is surprised that the breading taste like cake to him." She confessed.
“It is a bit sweet, but not enough to be cake. It pairs well with the peas, but if he does not care for it, I will not be offended." Waylen replied.
She translated it to her husband, but she added that he would be very wise to eat his cornbread and peas like Waylen was doing or she would be very upset with him. He did as he was told, and did not complain even though he could not suppress his grin as he mimicked what he saw Waylen do with his own cornbread.
Vienna’s turn came, and while the two men began to try their pie, she took her own taste of the mix of cornbread and peas. Oh, what a very strange place Radiah must be if this is what they enjoy serving at their tables! Oily bread, sweet cake-like bread with salty peas, and meat served inside of a dessert crust!
“We don’t have anything like this on our dinner tables. I have never eaten anything like this before." She commented, cutting deeper into her pie to expose more of its innards. At least the stew portion of the pie was very good.
And it truly was! The gravy inside reminded her of what would come with meelish, but it was not quite the same. It had a different color and texture, but very flavorful. The bread crust that encased it was not sweet like the cornbread but was more of a source of salty flavor that added crunch to every bite whenever it was included.
“The pie is very good." Karo told her, and she conveyed this to Waylen.
While they ate, she returned the conversation back to what had been brought up before.
“You were not wrong for thinking that white was a color worn by servants. Only Atinans who have been given authority over many are allowed to wear white. It is not unlike how we dress our army. Lyrren is a commander in his own way, and before you came to Anya Sur, he was responsible for a large number of servants that work within the Keep." She told him, if only to assure him that he had not been completely wrong before.
“That is what I had assumed, but since your husband wore white, as well as Eldest Thalla and Princess Iolla, I thought that Ser had a broader meaning. I should have asked Ser Lyrren beforehand to be sure." He replied.
“Mother and father chose white as the color of leadership for anyone that was not a soldier, but my sister and Eldest Thalla would not be considered servants. Ser is reserved only for servants, and likewise Sol is only for soldiers. A small lesson, but we do not address a commander as Sol, but as Commander or Captain, depending on their importance." She added.
“Ser means servant, and Sol means soldier in Atinan?" He asked.
She thought about it briefly, then shook her head.
“Ser and Sol are not really Atinan words, Your Highness. I would have to ask my mother, but I believe we just borrowed the words from Radiah and shortened them to make it easier to say." She replied, as there were a number of words spoken in Atina Nah that were originally from Radiah. Special borrowed words that sometimes held their original meanings, and others having earned new ones.
“I do not know why I did not recognize that sooner. I feel silly now for not having figured it out." He replied, a puzzled look on his face.
“You can feel no stranger than me and my sister as we were taught to speak Radian. You are in like company, Waylen." She replied, dropping the use of any title in hopes that a more intimate use of his name would relax him.
Radians were very formal, or so she’d been often told. She could remember father telling her about his many visits to Radiah, and of the times when they would come to see us. Before she was born, at least. She could remember some of these visits, remembered some of the strange faces of the Radian royalty that had come long before Waylen. They liked using their titles no matter where they were, be they in public or private they clung to them. It was simply their way of things, as her father would tell her. They don’t mean disrespect; he’d tell both her and Iolla. It’s just one of their ways, different from us, but once you understand their ways and they our own then we both will see we are not so different.
It did not seem that her dropping his title had caused any offense, and she began to change the subject further away to something he’d confessed excitement in. While they ate, she told him about the tournament grounds, explaining that he’d passed through them once already to enter the Keep’s outer wall. It would have been empty then, but when he sees it next it would be a bustling hub of activity.
Even now as the evening grew darker and colder, crews of workers would still be erecting the structures that would soon house onlookers, combatants, and merchants looking to sell food and drink to both.
Since Karo could not join in on the conversation, he finished his meal first. She felt awful for him, as this dinner was not one he was accustomed to. Usually, he spoke more than she did at the table. The only thing that was good for him was that he must have enjoyed the pie, since she knew his mannerisms very well now. She could always tell if he was eating to be polite or out of genuine enjoyment.
When they reached the end of their meal, with every plate minus its pie, she wondered how long the rest of the evening would go. She’d warned Karo it could go overly long, as mother had told her. She was also curious about the rest of the food they would serve. Waylen had only told them of these few items, but by the way mother spoke of Radian meals, they were full of waste. Dish after dish would be brought to the table with no expectation of it being eaten in full. More food than any could eat, a show of wealth no different than any Atinan draped heavily in steel jewelry at the marketplace.
“When I planned to have this dinner with you, I had arranged dessert to be made. I hope you will enjoy it." Waylen told them both, though he was looking at her when he did it. He then turned to look at one of the women standing patiently by the kitchen door.
She nodded and left into the kitchen.
“Desserts are quite rare at our tables. We often save them for special occasions, like how we used to do with unni." She replied, even though she’d never been alive during a time when unni was rare. By the time she was old enough to be allowed a sip of it, the honey it was made from had become quite plentiful.
“We serve dessert with most meals in Radiah if we are serving guests. I hope you will like what we’ve prepared." He repeated himself.
She had not interacted nearly as much with him as she should have, but he did not seem the sort to repeat himself, especially in such a short amount of time. He turned his head to look back towards the kitchen door, expectantly. She then whispered to her husband that dessert was next, but she did not know what it would be, only that Waylen hoped that they liked it.
“Maybe it will be a roast, since we’ve already been served pie." He teased, and she wanted to shake him.
The littlest of the women emerged holding a large serving platter covered with a lid. Vienna could not imagine how old this one was, as she was so much smaller than Waylen and very slight of build. She, and that little male servant that had sat at the lunch table days prior, had to be very young. Younger than Waylen, surely. Mother would not have been pleased, but since Vienna hadn’t heard any complaint about it yet then that must mean her mother had not seen or heard of either of these two little ones.
The other women took from them their plates of finished pie, so that the table in front of them would be clear. The lid of the platter was then removed, and there sat three small plates with some kind of dessert sitting on it. As the little woman held the platter the other two delivered the small plates to the table with a fresh fork placed next to each.
She looked at them curiously, as did her husband. It was a small pastry of some sort, coated with a layer of white icing, with a large dollop of pudding sitting on the top of it with a familiar looking garnish.
“When you said that picti mal was your favorite dessert, I asked Marissa if she could learn make it herself. What she has made for us tonight is a mix of picti mal and traditional Radian cake pastry. I thought it would be a nice gesture, to mix Radiah and Atina Nah together into something delicious. I hope you like it." He replied, repeating himself for the third time, and she so desperately hoped that it tasted good so that she would not have to lie to him.
“What is it?" Karo asked. “It looks like they put picti mal on it."
She smiled at Waylen, ignoring her husband for the moment.
“Thank you, Your Highness. This is a kind gesture, please let me explain the dessert to my husband." She replied, then turned to her husband to tell him that it is picti mal and cake mixed together and that he was not allowed to say anything bad about it, because this was a very kind gesture and Waylen obviously hoped that they would like it.
He nodded, then picked up his fork, and she did the same. Never had she felt so uncomfortable taking a bite out of a dessert with four people now expectantly watching them for their reaction, as all three of the women were now standing at a distance watching them.
And Atina Nah had blessed them with Her kindness, because with that first bite, she knew it was good! It was so rich with its sweetness she was almost taken aback, but the cool flavor of the picti mal mellowed out the rich flavor of the brown colored cake.
“It is very good! Thank you, Waylen. I would never have thought to mix picti mal with anything like this." She thanked him.
Next to her Karo was taking another bite of his, but was silent.
“This is a very expensive dessert, Vienna. They used chocolate for this." He finally said after a swallow. “It is very good, decadent. I don’t think even the big kitchen has much stock chocolate in their pantry, it’s very rare in Anya Sur. They must have brought it with them from Radiah."
By his tone of voice, he was speaking to her as a merchant, and she tried her best to just convey to Waylen that her husband enjoyed it, too, and that he was curious about the chocolate. As the three of them continued to enjoy their dessert, her husband took control of the conversation and forced her to translate for him, as he wanted to know how such a rare ingredient had come to Waylen’s small kitchen.
Vienna did not know this until now, but apparently chocolate comes from a place even further away than Radiah, and the Radians have to trade for it. She did not know where this faraway place was that possessed chocolate, but a piece of it had somehow found its way to her plate and was now sitting on her fork along with a healthy portion of her favorite dessert. Her father would have been very happy.
The rest of their dinner was pleasant, and was not anywhere near as long as her mother had warned her it would be. She hoped father would be proud of her for doing what her mother could not. Her mother should have been the one to sit at this table with Waylen. Father, too, but Atina Nah decided long ago that that was not to be.
Theo still struggles at speaking Atinan, much more so than his father ever had. But we, Yvvie and I, are now much better at speaking Radian than we once were! His Atinan is quite terrible. He does get most of the words correct, but he lacks the strength of voice. Edgard’s voice was always strong, and Atinan seemed to come a bit more natural to him once he began to know what words to say. Theo is still young and seems to be gentler than his father, so when he speaks it there is an uncanniness to it.
Yvvie thinks he’s soft, and that irritates her. I warn her not to compare the two, as Edgard ruled during a time of war and Theo rules over peace. It would be nice if we had peace here, too. I do not remember if we’ve ever experienced it. Well, I know that I have not. My mother has told me stories of how things used to be, and father too before violence took him from us.
It’s been a very long time since Atina Nah knew peace of any sort. I do hope that Theo shows wisdom and keeps Radiah well. His father put his kingdom through war to see to it that it would not come again to its doorstep, and in so doing he helped Yvvie and I do the same for our people. Now that I am much better at speaking their language, when we have our visits here or there I can listen well and speak whatever wisdom I can. I do not see our friends in Radiah often, as it takes such a long time to travel back and forth, but we do still exchange letters.
Edgard had told me when he was still with us to send letters to him written in Atinan, nothing important, but merely something to read that was natural. I don’t think Edgard ever really learned to read our language with much skill, but Theo seems to have. Not very well, of course! All the letters we send written in Atinan are simple things, small messages no longer than a single page and it’s always of Anya Sur.
When Theo was young, Edgard brought him every time he’d come to visit. All Theo did was complain about the heat, or gawk at the world around him with his big bright eyes. I wish Radians had been brought into this world better suited to Atina Nah. Had he been able to endure the heat, Theo might have come to enjoy the city much more than I know he did. I believe this, because he sends back his feeble attempt at Atinan, hardly skilled enough to compare it to a whelp’s writing. But he still does it and asks about things in Anya Sur he remembers from his youth or asks for news of things I had told him in previous letters.
These small curiosities he shows me are so much better than all the talk of war Edgard and Yvvie would do. I do hope this time of strife we find ourselves in ends soon, as I very much enjoy the glimpses of peace I see through our letters with Radiah.
“That can be arranged, there will be more than enough room on the tables to have an additional dessert." Her Royal Highness Iolla Fah Ro’Un replied first to Shane, since he was the one who had asked the question, then turned her attention back to Waylen to nod politely.
“What would the dessert be? We will need to inform the big kitchen, so that they do not prepare something too similar." Eldest Thalla Fah Kah’Seh then asked them.
It was all a big disappointment, but alas sometimes things don’t go according to plan. Today was the day Princess Vienna was to take him out to the tournament ground for a tour, but that had been put on hold so that this meeting could be taken care of first. A tour was a luxury, this meeting was not.
Waylen was now in a new room in the Keep, something small that was reserved for meetings. He was joined by Shane and Marissa, and together they represented the Radian side of the arrangement. On the other was Eldest Thalla and Princess Iolla along with some other servants Waylen had never seen before.
“Not long ago Princess Vienna and her husband shared dinner with me, and I had my cooks prepare a dessert that was a kind of cake made with picti mal pudding. The two of them enjoyed it a great deal so I would like to have more made for the banquet for your guests to enjoy as well." Waylen replied, and as he brought up the dessert in question Princess Iolla’s expression seemed to light up, but it was very subtle.
Eldest Thalla’s expression did not seem to change at all.
“That should not be too difficult for the big kitchen, though some may be disappointed in the absence of traditional picti mal." The Eldest replied.
Princess Iolla then hummed in a negative.
“I think the big kitchen can still make picti mal. The dessert His Highness describes is different enough to be unique. It has picti mal, but it is strong of chocolate, from what my sister has told me." The Princess replied before turning back to him. “This is correct, Your Highness?"
“Of course. It is strong of chocolate, and the picti mal my cooks can make surely does not taste the same as what the big kitchen would prepare. I cannot imagine that there would be any reason for your other guests to be disappointed." Waylen assured them.
Today’s meeting was to cover several important topics now that the Festival was growing so near. Only next week, and finally it will have arrived. Even if it sometimes felt as though Waylen had only been here for a few days, he had to remind himself that far more time was passing than he realized. Each day there was a new batch of distractions, and whenever he had a quiet moment to himself there were his worries. The time was passing quickly.
No one had managed to take a single step outside of the Keep since their arrival, and even though his guards were allowed to train in the Keep’s garrison, there was little for them to learn there. Waylen was stressed that he may have very little to tell his father upon his arrival back home. Her Majesty’s army was of a mysterious size, and that was partly due to his own fear induced hesitation.
He had not wanted to be too obvious with his questions, and everyone in his service knew it. No one went too far out of their way to ask questions like how many generals Her Majesty had, and how many soldiers they commanded. Waylen knew she had three Commanders, but two of those only seemed to hold power over Anya Sur and the Keep itself. Commander Roc Er Fel’Noy was the only dragon he knew of that had power over anything outside the city’s walls.
Princess Vienna was Commander of the Armies, but what did that even mean? The three Commanders all answered to her, but was Her Majesty’s army really just her daughter and three subordinates? It couldn’t possibly be with how large the desert was. Just look at any map and the Silver Sea stretches out for a great distance in all directions! There were allegedly many tribes scattered about the sand, numbering in the dozens.
Eldest Thalla then nodded and with a glance to her right, one of the servants seated next to her began to write down something on the parchment in front of him. The way dragons wrote their language was rather ugly. The strokes of the dragon’s quill were short, a long series of scritch scratches as the dragon wrote in their foreign script. Almost every letter was just a combination of little lines with the occasional dot. They all blended together so much that even if Waylen had been looking at the page right side up, he’d still not be able to make much sense of one letter from the others.
“With that settled, the actual time for when you are due to arrive will be given to you the day prior. There will be some things left to plan until the day before, which might affect when the banquet can begin. You will, however, be one of the first to arrive in the hall. Her Majesty was against the idea to have you enter after everyone else." Eldest Thalla then told him.
“There will be a place for you at our table, and you will be told which seat is yours." Princess Iolla quickly added.
“Will any of His Highness’ service be expect to attend, and in what capacity?" Shane spoke up.
“Under other circumstances it would be expected some of you would attend alongside His Highness, but with so few of you being able to speak Atinan, that creates a conflict. The great majority of the Atinans in attendance will not be able to speak Radian." Eldest Thalla answered.
“That would be a problem, yes. I can speak Atinan, but not as well as I would like to. No one else in our group can speak it at all, sadly." Shane told her.
“Your Highness, as you are all our guests, we assure you that the banquet will not be the only means of your service to participate." Princes Iolla then said to Waylen.
“If it is any consolation, everyone will be welcome to attend the tournament, as well as the parade held after. That should not cause any conflict. Am I correct, Eldest?" She then continued, turning then to Eldest Thalla to ask.
The larger dragon hummed, then lifted a quill of her own before beginning to write something down on a page in front of her, which was already filled with other chicken scratch symbols. As she wrote, she spoke.
“The tournament will be easily done. A spot for them has already been selected, but a proper awning needs to be erected, and some additional planning to ensure the heat does not wither anyone in your service too greatly. The tournament usually lasts for a few hours, and it is known to us that Radian do not fare well under our sun." She replied, then stopped writing.
“The parade would be more difficult, with them being so many." The Princess added, and the other dragon nodded.
“If it is a problem then we can select a smaller group." Shane volunteered.
“If the soldiers in your service are fit and willing to ride atop camels for the duration of the parade, then they can ride with the carriages alongside our own soldiers, and then the rest of your group can be afforded a single carriage." The large dragon replied after a moment.
Waylen looked to Shane then. The men in his group had mostly ridden on horses and camels all the way to Anya Sur, and that was weeks of arduous travel. It was hard on their bodies, but a parade lasting only a few hours would be simple for them to do. The older man looked back to him, and nodded in agreement, signaling that he could see nothing wrong with the suggestion.
“I think that would work well, Eldest Thalla. In addition to myself that would need a carriage, there are five in my group. I do not know how large your carriages are for the parade; will they be able to fit so many comfortably?" He asked her.
“If it is only five Radians of your size then there will be plenty of room, but you will not be riding with them, as Her Majesty will expect you to ride with us in her carriage." Princess Iolla interrupted him.
“Oh! So, the royal family will have its own carriage?" He asked.
“My mother, myself, and my sister will be in one carriage. There will be more than enough room to include you." She smiled at him.
“I hope I am not displacing His Highness, Karo? Or your own et’nol?" Waylen replied, having wanted to say Karo’s full name but he didn’t have enough time to jog his memory enough to remember it. He could only remember Er and something starting with a T. At least he remembered their word for fiancé! Et’nol, such a strange word.
Eldest Thalla smiled but said nothing.
“My et’nol would not be riding with us, as we are not yet married. However, you will be displacing Karo, but please do not be concerned." She assured him, and Waylen began to chew on the side of his tongue.
He had only just enjoyed a very nice dinner with Princess Vienna and her husband, making up for him not having any idea she was even married, and now he had to sit in a carriage with her knowing that her husband was kicked out of his seat because Waylen needed one! Steps forward, steps backward.
“That’s very unfortunate. Would there be any way of avoiding this, I would hate to offend either of them." He asked.
“They will not be offended. Not by you, at any rate. This would be Her Majesty’s decision." Eldest Thalla spoke up, lifting her quill again to write something else. “She does not like having too many people in a carriage with her."
“She has been this way since I was very small, Your Highness. Four is her limit, even if the carriage has room for more than that." The Princess assured him.
“Well, if this is how it must be then I will abide by Her Majesty’s wishes. I am happy to attend the parade with you all, though I fear I may have to plan a way to make it up to Prince Karo before I leave to return back to Radiah." Waylen told them, testing the word Prince with the dragons and finding some satisfaction in not finding any resistance. It must be the correct word to use!
“There will be time enough for such things." Eldest Thalla replied, then set her quill aside.
“The parade begins before noon and lasts until the afternoon, so expect it to take a few hours. The carriages will follow a route through the much of the city, so you will get to see Anya Sur from a much better angle than your balcony." The dragon continued, the Princess falling silent as the older dragon spoke.
Seeing more of the city would be nice, and it was good that the rest of his group could see it as well. It may be for the best that everyone be left out of the banquet, even Shane. If more of his people could speak Atinan, then it would have been nice to have Shane and Landon join him. Waylen knew he would have to urge his father to have more of his advisors learn it, and to be honest his children should all know it, too! No one in the family could speak it despite Her Majesty and her daughters speaking Radian so well.
“Is there anything you will need from us before the tournament or parade?" Shane asked.
“There should be nothing, but we will keep you informed on the day and time for when you will be brought outside. You should have more than enough time amongst yourselves to plan what you will need to wear, and for what you will want to bring with you. Food and drink will be provided so you need not concern yourselves with that." Eldest Thalla told him.
“I would like to request that plentiful water be provided, as opposed to alcohol, if we are to spend so much time outside in the sun. The heat and alcohol do not mix well for us." The older man asked.
The large dragon nodded and agreed that water can be brought in good supply for everyone, the dragon tapping a fingernail on the table next to her, which prompted the servant besides her to begin scribbling more on their own piece of paper, revealing that even the servants here seemed to know enough Radian to dictate a request.
Marissa quietly asked for Eldest Thalla’s attention, the older woman having not spoken very much during this meeting, despite being Waylen’s head cook.
“Yes?" The Eldest asked.
“I will be in charge of preparing the dessert, and I will need to know how much to prepare. How many guests will there be, and do you expect them to want more than one serving?" She asked.
“We do not yet know." The Princess replied first, prompting Eldest Thalla to nod in agreement.
“For now, we know who might arrive, but it is not unusual for that to change in the final days before the banquet. It happens every year. When we are certain of how many will attend, I will have that number sent to you. Expect it to be in the dozens, and the kitchen in His Highness’ rooms may not be adequate to the task." The Eldest replied.
“There should be room in the big kitchen. There are only three of them and only making one dessert." The Princess added.
“The big kitchen will be very busy." The larger dragon replied.
“If I may be allowed to see the big kitchen beforehand, I would be able to explain how much of it I would need. I do not think I would need much room." Marissa told them.
“This can be arranged. The big kitchen will be cooking their normal meals tomorrow, so I can send word to Ser Lyrren to escort you there for your review." The Eldest replied.
“That would be very good." Shane added.
“We may not have enough chocolate, Marissa." Waylen pointed out. He didn’t imagine they’d brought so much of it that they could feed a room full of dragons.
“Chocolate is not so rare that it cannot be acquired. There are merchants in the city that sell the beans as a luxury." The dragon replied.
“I hate to impose on Her Majesty in such a way, but if we could be assured enough chocolate for the dessert that would be appreciated." Waylen answered.
The Eldest then picked up her quill and began to write.
He looked over to Marissa, who looked a little wide eyed. It would only be much later in the day that he would learn that between the three women in his kitchen they’d only collectively made chocolate once. They were going to have to learn, and quickly, if they were to make good on that dessert.
I do not like lying, but Yvvie has forced me to swear to speak nothing of how much the rot still spreads in Atina Nah. So much blood spilled and yet all it earned us was the feeblest hold on power.
To our East is the safety of Radiah, distant though it may be. The riches that flow freely from their border have pacified the tribes that lie between Anya Sur and Radiah. All I can do is make sure the goods continue to flow back and forth, to keep everyone happy. Every chance I see to collect a luxury that I can pass off cheaply to the tribes, I do it. It’s bribery, but it’s also sewing peace.
Like a fattened animal, it gets lazy and wants to sleep. Atina Nah needs to be fat and lazy if it ever is to see a moment of peace.
To our North is Ulta, and they are very reluctant to trade with us. I do not know how to resolve that problem, as I cannot say I would do any differently than they are. From their mountain home they peered into Atina Nah and watched as we marched from one tribe to the next, waging our war, slaughtering everyone that opposed us, only to then lay siege upon Anya Sur until it was broken. We then built our city upon the old one’s corpse and called it our Capital.
So, the Ultans do not trust us. Yvvie doesn’t think the same way I do. She gets angry that it is Ulta and not Radiah that mistrusts us. She looks at the Ultans, at their squat and thick bodies made of hard flesh and tough hide, and tells me that Ultans are too much like Atinans to be so quick to lose trust. She thinks the Radians, being both frail of body and pale of skin, have far more right to fear us than Ulta does.
Perhaps this is true, for when I look upon an Ultan with my own eyes I see what Yvvie sees. Of all the creatures in the world, Ultans and Atinans are quite alike when you consider what Radians and their kin look like. I’ve never seen a Darfellan before, but Yvvie tells me they look no different to her than Radians. Frail, pale, short, and frustratingly well suited to the cold.
The only good to come from Ulta is that they do not seem to be interested in war. There is an uneasy silence in the North as a result. It is instead the tribes to the South and West of us that are the source of our kingdom’s rot.
Yvvie has sworn me to secrecy, she does not want Radiah to know. She can’t command all of Atina Nah to silence, but it is to her favor that so few Atinans speak Radian, and that the reverse is equally true. The war Edgard helped us win is not over. He merely helped us crush the head of a serpent, whose body still wriggles in the sand in defiance.
She keeps trying to crush what’s left of its corpse, but hate is a powerful thing. It doesn’t die from violence, as that’ll just make it stronger like breathing heat across an open flame. The Radians call Atina Nah the Silver Sea in their tongue. If they could look westward and see the hatred burning all across Anya Sur, they would no longer know what to call us.
All they would see is fire, as deep and endless a flame as the eye could bear to stomach.
For the first time in many days Waylen found himself approaching the very same gates that had once led him to the Keep of Anya Sur. Camels had been provided so they could make the journey much quicker than when they’d arrived, no more walking the great distance from the front steps towards the gate. He rode his own camel while several others joined him on their own beasts. Princess Vienna was riding on his left side, pointing out to him where Waylen would soon find himself on the day of the tournament.
“There. It isn’t much to see from this vantage, but if you were standing atop the wall, you’d see there is plenty of room. I don’t think the wall was intended to have a crowd of us sitting on top of the gate when it was first built, but now that we know we can its mother’s favorite place to watch the tournament." She explained to him as they rode.
“I can see why even from here. If I stood there on the wall, I could easily see everything in the courtyard, so I would image it’d be the same on the other side, too." He replied, agreeing with her.
On his other side was Landon, having been brought along much as he’d been on the day they’d visited the garrison. With his eyes and ears, he’d be a good asset to have at Waylen’s side, as he’d no doubt notice things that Waylen might have been oblivious to. The rest of the camels riding with them were all a part of either the Princess’ personal guard or soldiers borrowed from the Keep’s defense. Being led around so much by armed guard left him feeling a bit foolish. The child in him felt powerful and important, but the adult was anxiously wondering why so many guards were needed. Even his father didn’t need so many men to protect him when he moved about the castle.
They emerged through the open gate, and into what the Princess explained was the ‘Parade Grounds’. The same roadway they’d taken on their first day in the city was clear as day to see, a well-worn path through the Grounds, but to its either side was new construction that left Waylen impressed. There were as many as a hundred laborers moving about and working, often grouped into twos and threes as they worked with a myriad of tools to erect buildings and the like.
As Waylen scanned the area from atop his camel, he could see that the city was a much livelier place now than it had been on the day of his arrival. Though they’d only just crossed the threshold of the gate, he could see that in the distance there were hundreds more dragons moving up and down the roadway, mostly on foot but with the humps of camels spotted here and there. All of them were no doubt the common folk of the city he’d missed seeing on his arrival, all of whom were going about their daily lives no differently than the people of his homeland.
They moved on and began to ride deeper into the Grounds, Her Highness in the lead and in control of their path. Waylen was smiling, watching everything around him with great interest, spying everything he could. Just about every dragon he saw was laboring away, bare of chest, dressed only in light weight trousers or loin cloth wraps. There were women amongst their number, as bare of breast as the men were of chest, surprising Waylen enough to encourage him to keep his gaze politely averted towards more modest subjects.
The way these dragons dressed was so very different from what he’d expected, and not just because it was different from how things were in Radiah! Even inside the Keep the dragons all wore proper outfits, be they the tunic and trousers of a soldier or the robes or dresses of a servant or royalty. To see the commoners of Anya Sur so stripped bare was such a strange thing to see!
The Princess shouted something brief in Atinan, spooking him, and everyone stopped their camels with Waylen and Landon being the last to do so, wrangling their animals to a halt with their reigns.
“We will dismount." She told them, then began to step off her camel. Everyone else joined her, Waylen struggling slightly with the size of his own camel being a bit too great for his height. A few new faces approached them under the watchful eye of Her Highness’ guard and began to take control of the camels to lead them aside.
“First, Your Highness, I can explain what these are." She told him, gesturing for him to join her at her side.
He did, Landon in tow, and he was then shown what was being constructed. Scattered about the Parade Grounds were these large circular plots. The sound of hammers and saws were buffeting his ears from all directions now as Her Highness took a step into one of the circles, gesturing for him to remain outside.
Now alone, she stepped into the middle, then pointed her finger all along its perimeter.
“Each of these is where two will fight. When they are completed, they will have a thick layer of sand." She told him loudly, stamping her foot on the packed earth to make a point that no sand had yet been brought. He nodded, looking then around the perimeter itself, seeing that wooden stakes were being driven into the ground in a circle, and upon those stakes planks of wood were being nailed tight to create a ring that would presumably hold the sand in place.
“Two soldiers only, and they will fight with any weapon of their preference. Swords, shields, spears, and maces are available. No armor stronger than leather is allowed, and to win a duel you must either force your opponent out of the arena or force them to submit to you. Most choose to former, as the latter is much more difficult." She explained, the Princess now patrolling the inside of the circle.
“May I?" He asked, gesturing, if he could step inside.
She welcomed him to. He took one step in and tried to count the feet from one side to the other. As he approached Her Highness, he guessed that from one end to the other it might have been two dozen or so feet wide, missing or adding a few. Meanwhile, Landon stalked around the outside perimeter, eyeing it silently with his hands drawn behind his back, likely putting his own thoughts together about what he was seeing and hearing.
“You said they can choose a weapon of their choice? Are they real weapons or fake?" Waylen asked.
She reached down to her side, taking a grip of her sword and sliding it from its sheath. Her Highness stepped up to him and held her sword out for him to take. He rarely found himself holding a sword, so he felt strange taking it from her, feeling how heavy it was. It looked razor sharp to his eye, and he felt uneasy letting the blade get too close to him.
“The shields offered are real, made of wood and held together with bands of steel, but all of the weapons will have their edges blunted. They will weigh the same as my sword, be forged from the same steel, but cannot cut as a real blade would. Have you never held a sword?" She then asked, studying his awkward handling of her weapon.
“Very rarely have I held a sword, Your Highness. Especially one as heavy as this one." He confessed. She extended her hand, and he returned the sword to her, after which she sheathed it.
“Princess Vienna, you say the edges will be blunted, but will the spear’s tip be blunted as well? What of the maces?" Captain Landon then asked, taking a step inside the arena to join them.
“The maces are the deadliest weapon in the tournament, Captain, though we use wood for their shafts, so they are prone to breaking in the middle of combat. My mother decided that that was sufficient enough of a trade to allow maces to be used. And yes, the points of every spear are blunted, but a spear is still a spear, same as a blade is still a blade. It is not pleasant to be struck by either." She replied to him.
“Are many hurt each year?" Waylen asked.
She smiled down at him.
“A great many are hurt, yes. Now come, I have more to show you." She told him and then gestured in the direction she wished to go.
He followed along with Landon being quick to fall in line behind them. As she moved, her guards all moved around her like flowing water. Wherever Her Highness seemed to go the soldiers that served her kept a polite distance and were like silent watchmen.
“These here are like a kind of barracks. When the roofs are added they will look more like stables, but they are for our soldiers. Chairs and benches will be brought in and the soldiers waiting their turn can sit and watch their peers fight." She explained, directing his attention to more construction in the distance, a long line of small wooden plank buildings, each without a roof. Teams of dragons swarmed them all, hammering and sawing off excesses, preparing them for their eventual rooftops.
Landon then asked if it was expected that all soldiers waiting their turn are required to sit by the sidelines, and she replied that that wasn’t quite true. Any soldier who was next in line could mingle and meander through the parade grounds to watch the fights up close, but if you were not next, then you were expected to sit until you were told you could move about, otherwise the Parade Grounds would become too crowded with people.
“I would show you where your servants and guards will be seated, but the location has been changed by the construction crews. A new spot must be found, but it will be somewhere near here where the finalists will gather for their duels. I can, however, show you what the accommodation will look like further down the road. Let us get you back on your camel." She told him with a smile, then turned her head and whistled like he’d seen her do before.
She lifted a hand, closing her fist with only her pinky extended, then gestured for the camels to be brought back. His camel was brought back to him, and Landon helped him rise into its saddle before climbing up into his own.
“Progress may not seem like it has gone well, but it will all be ready for the tournament with time to spare. This here is the easiest part of the preparation." She told him as she rode her camel up to his side, gesturing all around them to the many arenas under construction.
“What is the difficult part?" He asked her. She kicked her heels, spurring her animal to begin marching ahead, and Waylen urged his own to do the same.
“Managing the crowds and merchants, and all the planning that came before. You will see soon. Every year we build places for Atinans to sit and mingle while they watch the fighting, and then we have to erect awnings and stands for the merchants who come to sell food and drink." She told him.
He nodded, not sure what he was supposed to imagine, but memories of Radiah filled his mind. He wondered how similar it would be to reality once he saw it.
“How many people come to watch?" Waylen asked.
The Princess drew in a deep breath, looking thoughtful for a moment.
“I do not know. We don’t count such things, but I would say that if there was enough room along Anya Betine, we’d see half the city come to watch." She replied.
“Anya Betine?" He asked her what that was, leaving her to briefly tilt her head.
“Ah, it means The Great Road in your tongue, this here." She replied, gesturing to the road they were now riding down, the same one he’d ridden through when he’d first arrived in the city. He nodded, making a note of that special name.
“Is there something special about the word Anya?" He asked, since he was now aware of two things that shared that word in its name, both the city and now the road they were riding upon.
“Anya just means great, or something similar, in Radian. Betine is just our word for road. Anya Sur would be The Great Well in your tongue." She explained, and he nodded. Interesting.
“Anya Sur is both the city and the rock overlooking us. I do not think either of them are wells, unless I am not understanding what you mean by well?" He asked her, prying more into their language as their camels carried them further down the roadway.
All around them there were even more dragons, dozens upon dozens of them. Most of them were stopping where they stood to gawk at Waylen and his group. He couldn’t blame them, surely the entire city knew he was here visiting, and now these dragons all had the chance to see him for the first time. The laborers in the Parade Grounds were being left behind, and what he could see now were the very same rows of clean, sun-bleached buildings he’d seen on his first day, except they were now very full of life.
The merchant stalls were manned by dragons, many of which were watching them ride their camels from beneath the colorful fabric awnings. Waylen was watching them as much as they were him, but he couldn’t begin to guess who thought who was the stranger. Merchants from Radiah did travel to Anya Sur, but it had been a long time since someone as important as Waylen had made the journey.
He had to continuously avert his gaze, his eyes wandering across the crowds of dragons and catching sight of their women, just as bare of chest here as he’d seen before. These folk did not seem to care for modesty, or perhaps their understanding of it was so far from his own that it was as foreign as their native tongue. It was very strange, so strange that he didn’t for the moment feel embarrassed by the sight of it. It was a bit too overwhelming of a shock, to be honest, but that would probably change as soon as he had enough time to digest it.
“It means the same as in Radian, Your Highness. It is a well for water. The Anya Sur that looks down upon us all is named for the lake that sits at its foot. We call that Anya Valas, but Atinans have always called Anya Sur The Great Well, even if the lake is where the water actually comes from." She told him with a smile.
“I see, and what does valas mean, if I am not asking too much of you as a student." He asked her.
She smiled at him again.
“No, not too much. Valas is our word for cistern. These names are all very old, older than me, my mother, and her mother’s mother. We see the error in the names now, but when we Atinans first gave Anya Sur its name it was what felt was right." She told him.
“And now it’s too late to change it." He told her.
“It would be silly to do after so long, yes. Now, look ahead and to our left. Past the merchant stalls." She told him then, lifting her hand from her reigns to point something out to him.
He followed her finger to a long row of stalls, to throngs of dragons he’d noticed earlier.
“Behind those stalls is a long clearing we use throughout the year for different things. Now that the tournament is so large we have the finalists duel on the Parade Grounds behind us, but the first of the fighting will always start here. We will dismount and I can show you." The Princess told him.
He listened and nodded, following along by her side until they neared a set of stalls that appeared to be selling food. She lifted her hand and shouted in Atinan, and everyone began to dismount their camels. He dropped from his saddle and joined Her Highness as Landon and the rest of her guard flocked around them.
“Are you hungry?" She stopped to ask him suddenly.
“Not overly so, Your Highness." He replied, unsure now if she’d stopped them to show off more arenas or if she actually only wanted to visit the food stalls.
She said something in Atinan to one of her guards, then he rushed off towards one of the stalls.
“I am. If you discover that you are hungry, I will share." She told them, then gestured for him to follow. He did.
She led him between the stalls and into the clearing behind them. The ground was of well packed earth, dusty, but it was littered with even more laboring dragons. Large teams of them seemed to be using wagons to deposit sand into completed arenas, allowing Waylen to see what the final product would look like up close. Then, around the edges of the clearing, which was a long wide rectangle like a banquet table fit to seat many thousands of people, were even more buildings under construction.
Her Highness continued to walk, and Waylen with the rest of the group followed. Many eyes followed them both with great curiosity, but no one stopped working. She led him to a completed building, a tall wooden structure with three walls and open on one side. Within, there were already benches and chairs arranged for sitting.
“What we will be making for your companions will be much like this building, but wider to accommodate so many. It will have a larger roof to shield them from the sun, and plenty of benches for sitting, and tables for their use. Food, like what is sold from the stalls we walked by, will be brought to them along with plenty of water." She explained to him, and Waylen stepped under the roof of the small building to escape the sun.
Now in the shade he felt a bit refreshed, enough at least to wipe his forehead dry without it being a wasted effort. She stepped in to join him.
“I think that will be more than enough, Your Highness." He told her.
The guard that had left before was now returning with a parcel in his hands, wrapped in a thin sheet of paper. This attracted the Princess’ attention and when he arrived, he offered the parcel to her, but instead of taking it she reached between the open folds of the paper and pulled out a long, narrow, sandy looking stick.
She bit into it with a crunch.
“If there is anything else you think your companions will need, just tell Ser Lyrren and he will make it so." She told him after swallowing.
“So far, I think everything is going to be fine, but I will certainly convey any requests to Ser Lyrren should they arise. I am very pleased to be able to see the city and the tournament grounds today. Thank you for taking the time to show me." He replied, Her Highness loudly biting into the stick again.
It looked like a slender piece of hard bread, coated in some kind of coarse powder.
“You are very welcome, Your Highness. It’s called a yik." She replied, noticing he’d been watching the stick of bread between her fingers.
He nodded. She then said something in Atinan, and the guard with the paper offered it to him, and Waylen reluctantly looked inside the paper, saw there was a small bundle of the narrow sticks wrapped within. Since it was now being offered to him, he wanted to be polite. He reached inside and took one. It was grainy under his fingertips, the sandy powder revealed to be grains of salt.
Lifting it to his nose he smelled salt and sugar. He bit into it with a crunch of his own and was met with a strange combination of salty and sweet. The salt on the outside was the first flavor, then as he chewed, he was met with the taste of the crunchy bread, somewhat bland and only slightly sweet.
“During the Festival, yik will be sold all across the city alongside fresh honey. Yik is more salty than sweet, but the honey gives balance." She added, taking another bite.
“Interesting. I think I would enjoy it more with the honey when the Festival is here." He replied.
“Most do, but honey is expensive. Many years ago father made arrangements to sell certain things at lower prices to the merchants, in order to make their produce cheaper during the Festival. A lot of our city’s luxury is easily obtained during the Festival, so Atinans come to visit us every year during this time." She told him.
“That’s very wise, Your Highness. I would imagine the city becomes quite crowded as a result if too many arrive." He told her, and she nodded.
“It changes from year to year, but we always see many thousands come all at once. Already most of those that want to be here have arrived. It’s good for Anya Sur, as they all bring goods for trade, and money to purchase more for themselves. They flood the city with things we want in exchange for cheap yik with honey, the fights in the arena, and much more." The Princess replied.
“That certainly sounds like good fortune for the people of the city, Your Highness." He replied.
Thousands coming all at once was a large number of people, all of whom would have come by camel and with their own luggage. They would have to stable their animals and find lodging for themselves. He certainly saw no evidence of any of this when he first arrived in Anya Sur. The road of Anya Betine had been completely empty save for the soldiers that guarded it.
Her Highness finished the last of her yik, then took another one from the guard.
“Is there anything else you’d like me to show you while we are here?" She then asked him.
He thought for a moment.
“I’ve already taken a lot of your time today, Your Highness, but I do have a question if you can answer it?" He asked her. Waylen would have liked to be shown more of the city, but that would take hours to do and surely, she would have no time to give in to that request.
She nodded for him to ask.
“When I first arrived in the city, after I was greeted by Commanders Roc and Nell, I noticed that Anya Betine was empty of its people. No one except soldiers were in sight, all of the regular folk were gone." He told her, gesturing to the laborers nearby that were still devoting themselves to their work.
“Yes, Anya Betine was cleared for your passage hours before you arrived." She replied, confirming everyone’s suspicion.
“We had thought that was odd, so I wanted to ask about why Her Majesty thought it was so important to clear the road? I would have liked to have seen how the city looks with all its people." He told her.
She took a particularly large bite of her yik, less than half of it now left in her hand and waited until she was finished before replying.
“Mother was of the belief that when you arrived you would be exhausted, and so clearing Anya Betine would make your arrival at the Keep that much faster. Anya Betine is the main road of Anya Sur and sees a great deal of travelers on foot and by camel. Clearing the way of people as you moved in your wagons would have been very slow." She explained.
“I see, that does make sense. It would have been nice if there had been another way. I hope not too many of your people were troubled by my arrival. I noticed there were a great many stalls for merchants all along the road. That’s a lot of merchants unable to do business." He pressed, although he was not so sure why he was. Something in him just wanted to know more about why the dragons were doing as they were.
Her Highness did not immediately reply, instead finishing off the last of her yik before rubbing her fingertips together to knock the salt from her fingers.
“If any of them were inconvenienced by your arrival, it would not be you that the anger would be aimed. Everyone in Anya Sur is aware that my mother is the source of decisions like clearing Anya Betine. She can be very… She has her own way of solving problems." She told him with a pronounced sigh.
This was not the first time he’d been told that someone’s anger would be aimed at Her Majesty for something she had done. Was this something of a common occurrence, he had to wonder.
“I was riding with Prince Waylen in his carriage when we arrived, Princess Vienna." Landon interrupted them both.
Now that he had their attention he continued.
“The display of your military was very impressive. You must have brought soldiers from all across the city to muster so many." He told the Princess, phrasing it as a compliment.
“Only from the Garrisons. The City Watch was not called upon to stand at attention along Anya Betine. We had enough soldiers between the East and West Garrisons to accommodate your arrival without trouble." She replied.
“I counted many hundreds of soldiers. If you had arrived in Illian to visit Radiah, we would have had to pull soldiers from much further away. His Majesty, King Rylan, does not like keeping a standing army of great size in Illian." Landon continued.
Waylen was now gnawing at the side of his tongue, anxious that Landon was pushing to pry into Her Majesty’s military. As much as it was needed, he was worried it would not be taken well.
“I do not recall mother ever describing your army when she visited. All I know of it is what I’ve been told from when we marched to aide you in battle against Darfell many years ago." She replied.
“Illian is a very large city, Your Highness." Waylen interjected. “It does not have a wall around it like Anya Sur, so the city is allowed to spread out very far. Our army is spread out, too. Landon will explain it better."
“We have a garrison in Illian, but it is small. It is much like the one you have in the Keep. It is more for the defense of Castle Illian than it is for the city itself. We have small forts scattered across Radiah that serve as defense from invaders, and all of our Noble Houses employ their own armies for themselves, all of whom serve the King in times of war." Landon explained.
The Princess furled her brow.
“Mother and father have spoken to me before of these Houses of Radiah. They are not the kind you live in, correct? They are the other kind of house, like a kind of family?" She asked.
“Yes, Your Highness. Something like that. Old families of great wealth and reputation." He replied.
She nodded, accepting his answer.
“I cannot say that we have houses such as those in Atina Nah. Our families are old, but none but my own have an army to call its own. But like with your forts, there are tribes scattered all across Atina Nah. Somewhere in the Keep we have a record of such things, but that is something I leave to Iolla and the others. I could not tell you them all by name." She replied.
“So, it would be fair of me to assume they each had their own garrison? A village or town in Radiah is basically one of your tribes, and we have always needed to keep a garrison at each of them. Even though we have not been at war in such a long time, our history is stained by it, and we’ve learned hard lessons about not being prepared." Landon told her, Waylen standing silent to allow the older man to do what he himself should have found a way to do on his own.
As much as his anxiety gnawed at him, this was what his father had wanted, and now it started to happen. Waylen could only hope it would not come off as strange to their hosts.
“Yes, all of them do. It’s the reason why we have so many soldiers here for the tournament. Every tribe has a garrison, led by one of our Small Commanders, and they know to watch carefully throughout the year. They pick out anyone they think has earned a place in the tournament, and then send word of it to Anya Sur. We collect the names and make a decision. This used to be something my mother would do, but she’s since passed it on to me." She replied.
“So, it is you that hand picks the dragons that fight?" Waylen asked while making sure to remember that she’d referred to something called a Small Commander.
“Or rather, you pick from the list given to you?" He had to quickly add.
“Yes, I pick them. I often have to trust the judgement of the Small Commanders, but when I recognize a name, then I know if they are worth the journey." She replied.
“I have been in your situation a few times. I helped gather men to fight in a jousting competition several years ago. I believe it was when Lord Richard married. I doubt you would remember it, Your Highness." Landon added, turning to Waylen.
No, he did not recall. Waylen knew who Lord Richard was, and knew he was married, but he would have been a bit too young when it happened for him to have any memory of it.
“No, I do not." He replied.
The sound of hooves was in the distance, only distinguishable from the noise of hammer falls by their unique pattern. Vienna’s attention had been grabbed by the sound, her head turning, and then tilting in that way Waylen had begun to notice was a very common thing dragons seemed to do. He and Landon both followed the invisible line of her gaze and watched as a small group of soldiers arrived by camel.
All but one of the dragons was a mystery to him. A female dragon hopped off her camel and shoved the reigns into the hands of another soldier who’d stepped forward to meet them. Commander Nell Fah Sol’Nu was now approaching them with purpose, quickly being followed by the three other soldiers that had arrived with her.
She and her group stopped a few feet from their own and gave a salute. A salute was returned, Waylen and Landon each offering their own in the Radian tradition.
“Your Highness." Commander Nell nodded her head respectfully to him, and he returned it with a nod of his own and a quick greeting of her name.
“Have you something to report?" The Princess then asked of the Commander, her head no longer in a tilt but her expression was still of mild curiosity.
Commander Nell replied in Atinan, and then Waylen watched as Her Highness’ brow furled. Princess Vienna replied in kind, both women now speaking their native tongue, and then what followed was a brief conversation of which Waylen and Landon both were too ignorant to understand. All Waylen could grasp was their body language, or what he felt he understood of it. If dragons were alike enough to his own kind, then what he thought he was watching was one woman insisting upon something, this being Commander Nell, and then the other woman being stubborn, that woman being Her Highness.
“Prince Waylen." The Princess then said to him with a huff, turning to him now that her conversation with the Commander had concluded.
“Yes, Your Highness?" He asked, feeling uncertain now.
“Do you feel you’ve seen enough of the tournament grounds to satisfy your curiosity?" She asked him suddenly.
“I, yes? I believe I have seen enough. Captain Landon?" He asked of his counterpart.
The Captain nodded but chose to say nothing.
“Then I must return you to the Keep, as I am needed there. If there is anything we need of you or your companions, word will be sent, but I trust that everything in the tournament grounds will be to your satisfaction." She told him, then gestured for the two of them to follow her.
Commander Nell struck a salute, along with her cohort, and gave him a firm nod. He returned it and began to follow the Princess back the way they came until they reached their camels. As they mounted their steeds he stole a glance at Landon, whose brow was furled. Waylen didn’t know why they were suddenly being ushered back towards the Keep, but there must have been a reason. Her Highness did not seem to be in any sort of hurry until the Commander arrived.
Just another reason to learn Atinan, he supposed.
With Edgard’s passing, Theo became King, and one day, Yvvie and I will each have to give up our crowns to others, passing on the right to rule to whomever we decide is worthy of it, as we do not yet have children. May never have children.
In Darfell, the man that was once King is long since dead. Yvvie made sure to kill him a long time ago, ending the war between Darfell and Radiah decisively. That King had a son, and now that son is grown into adulthood with the weight of a crown on his own head.
Theo has sent us word, that a son now seeks revenge for his father, and war yet again comes to Radiah’s doorstep. Yvvie is already moving, an energy in her step that I haven’t seen in a long while. The prospect of violence has stirred her to action. I will leave the war to her, as she has the mind for it. She’s already mustered the soldiers she trusts most within the city, and many more are being drawn from the ranks scattered across Atina Nah.
It will be left to me to ensure that Anya Sur is well maintained, and that Atina Nah holds herself together. I am not a mind suited to conflict, at least not in the manner that spills blood. I can only hope that my tongue is sharp enough to quell any dissent in Yvvie’s absence.
Anya Sur will be fine. The new wall that Yvvie wants built around the city is already under construction and that will keep everyone occupied for a long time. We are paying a high price to draw fresh Atinan blood from across the tribes to hasten its completion. Construction of this scale will take years to complete.
With such a mighty wall around the City she won’t feel the need to have so many soldiers march across the City to keep it safe. The people will breathe easier. Yvvie’s fears are too great for her to contain within herself, it taints her every action. The people can feel it as they go about their daily lives, feeling the smothering weight of fear, knowing that their Queen expects war to come to her doorstep at any moment.
Maybe with a big enough wall she will finally rest. The rot is still festering across Atina Nah, but with every skirmish, with every raid, Yvvie executes more of the rot. Sooner or later, she’ll have killed them all, as their numbers do not seem to be growing.
I do not know how much of this she attributes to her mastery of violence, and how much she puts to the wealth of bribery I’ve sunk into the tribes. I’ve done all I can to drown the people of Atina Nah in the riches of Anya Sur, to show them that being ruled by us is far better than what they lived under before. I can’t say myself who I think is more responsible for the change, but I hope that it’s me. If I could ask anything of Atina Nah, I would plead with Her to see to it that it was my doing!
Because if it’s Yvvie, then I do not know if there will be a future for us if everything that we’ve built here sits on a foundation of blood.
“So, you think it’s many thousands then?" Shane asked over tea.
Waylen had only water in his glass, as he felt he’d had enough heat for today. They’d only been back in Waylen’s rooms for little more than an hour and now they were gathered around his table. He was joined only by Shane and Landon. It was by the Captain’s insistence that they gathered so soon, Waylen feeling that the man was barely holding in his excitement, even though what he was excited about was paltry.
“Easily thousands, possibly several so, but the full number we could not glean. If we had a map of their territory, and could count the tribes and estimate their size, then we may be able to better understand how large her army is. We do know she has five hundred gathered here for the tournament alone, but that is a recent development. It did not seem to me that those five hundred had already gathered when we arrived weeks ago." The Captain replied.
“And the whole roadway was lined with soldiers. There seemed to be several dozen of them, I could not count them all." Shane replied.
“Those were soldiers only. According to Her Highness, none of their City Watch were standing guard along the road. I suspect that Anya Sur has more than a thousand troops at the ready at any given time. Between the three garrisons we know about, and whatever their City Watch uses to house their men, I would wager good gold that Her Majesty has a sizeable force here. Thousands here in Anya Sur alone." The other replied.
“These are not certainties." Waylen interrupted. The other two seemed excited, but Waylen was concerned.
“No, not certainties, but we know enough to understand that if they were asked to render us aid, they should be able to spare thousands." Landon replied.
“But how many thousands? The last time Her Majesty sent us an army I believe that it was some five thousand strong. Could she do that again, and quickly? Would it take her time to muster so many?" Shane asked.
Waylen sighed. Behind him a door opened, and from the kitchen Christa arrived, and began to ask if any of them wanted more tea. Shane agreed, Landon waved her a no, and Waylen still preferred water. The interruption stopped everyone from talking, and Waylen’s anxiety was gnawing at him uncomfortably, just like how his teeth were chewing at the side of his tongue. Uncomfortable. He knew his father well enough to know that he would ask very specific questions upon their return.
How many soldiers? How soon to muster? How long would it take them to reach Radiah? How well equipped will they be? His father would ask, and then many more after that. His brothers, too, would have questions, and so would all of his advisors.
Shane and Landon were riding high on wings of excitement, and perhaps Waylen should have been, too. He just couldn’t. He was too busy thinking of all the ways he’d disappoint his father when he asked one question after another and was met with one unsatisfying answer after another in return.
His father was nothing like his mother, but they could both be very demanding. Father was less oppressive, but that almost made it worse. When he was younger, Waylen learned of the word apathy, and as soon as he understood its meaning, he came to realize that apathy was what he often felt towards his mother. Upsetting her didn’t make him feel any sort of guilt or regret. She was too difficult to please, so he just turned to apathy. The less he cared the easier it was for him to wake in the morning and make it through the day.
But if he disappointed his father, he did feel guilt from that. He didn’t want to fail him, especially after being trusted to make this journey for something so important.
“We don’t know those answers yet." Landon told Shane in reply to his questions, Waylen knowing it was no different for his own unspoken ones.
“Father wants those answers, or else this journey will have been pointless." Waylen replied, a note of bitterness in his voice that quieted the other two men.
“We are not finished here. There is time left yet." Shane reassured him, the Captain shifting in his seat.
“The Festival is soon. In a few days the festivities will begin, and we will have a chance to see the entire city in a flourish of activity. I expect Her Majesty will have a big show of her strength, not just at the tournament, but all throughout the parade, too." The Captain said directly to Waylen for his benefit.
“Your reason for this?" Shane asked him.
He turned to look at the older man.
“When we arrived, she emptied the entire road from the gate to her fortress! She carved a clean path through her city just so we could get to her doorstep faster, and the entire time we were given a big show of her army. She knows we’re here, Prince Waylen is her guest of honor, so why wouldn’t she consider putting on more of a performance?" Landon replied.
Shane shrugged in agreement.
“Perhaps you are right. We don’t know how well she will be guarded during the parade, but if this were His and Her Majesty in Illian, we would have planned to have soldiers placed all along the parade route from Castle Illian and back again." The older man replied.
“I see no reason to think Queen Yvvie would do any different. She puts soldiers and guards everywhere like a tree drops its leaves. When any of us go to the garrison to train that’s all we see. More swords here than servants." Landon replied.
“This may only be because I am here, or because the Festival is so near. We don’t know what she is like on a normal week, or even month." Waylen told him.
“This is true, but all the more reason then to think she will show off her muscle. That seems to be how her mind works. Put muscle everywhere." He replied back.
Margo came to them from the kitchen, a number of small plates carefully held in her hands. She set them on the table, one for each of them, and produced a small spoon for every plate. There was a substantial dollop of white pudding in the center of each.
“Your Highness, Marissa asks that you all taste the pudding for her. It is another batch of picti mal. We are practicing for the banquet." She told them quietly before taking a step back from the table.
“I wish it wasn’t the flavor of mint." Landon replied, having not even touched his spoon.
Waylen tasted it, and it was to his liking. He couldn’t say if it was the same as what had been served to them before by the dragons, but it was a pudding with a flavor of cool mint. He said as much to Margo, and Shane did the same before making Landon taste his. Once all three of them had given their input, Margo retreated back to the kitchen to make her report to Marissa.
“It will be much better with cake." Shane told Landon.
“We won’t be there to eat it." Landon grumbled.
Waylen dragged the side of his spoon across the plate to gather more of the pudding. It wasn’t unpleasant, sweetened with sugar, and with how hot it was each day he enjoyed the cool flavor. Perhaps the Captain simply had a distaste for mint, but to Waylen it felt appropriate. It was no shock to him that they even brewed beer with picti, if the result was something that tasted cold.
“Can we acquire a map of Atina Nah? One that shows all of the tribes?" Waylen asked aloud.
“A map of Atina Nah, yes, but will it have every tribe marked?" Shane replied, shrugging in reply to his own question.
“I would not expect the maps we already possess to be of poor quality. How much can the landscape change? Their tribes are presumably very old, like most of our villages and towns. Whatever older maps we have should be accurate to the present day." Landon replied.
This sounded true to Waylen. Tribes, or villages, do not simply come and go like the wind does.
“I agree, but it might be wise to ask if we could be given a new map. Surely, they have a need for such things, their own cartographers. I cannot recall the last time we have requested a map from them. I know we have in the past, but it would have been a long time ago." Shane replied.
Waylen sighed.
“We can be fair about it. It would not appear unusual to ask for something new to replace the old. I think I would be more than able to ask Ser Lyrren for one, and do so in a way that makes it clear we would like it for…" The older man continued, pondering for a moment.
“Trade reasons, perhaps. I will think of something suitable before I speak to him." He finished.
“I don’t see why they would refuse, unless they simply didn’t have a map to spare us." The Captain agreed.
Waylen nodded.
“You can ask him." Waylen relented, giving the older man his blessing.
There was a knock on the door and Codi hoped up from his chair near the door and carefully answered it. The young man turned his head towards them, telling them a serving cart had arrived.
“Let them in." Shane replied.
Codi pulled the door open all the way and a dragon in servant’s garb entered with a heavily laden cart. It was food, but not yet edible. Waylen knew well enough about the plans going on in Marissa’s kitchen, so it was clear to him that the cart was supplying dry and nonperishable ingredients for their meals and likely the upcoming banquet.
Shane rose from his seat and left to the kitchen to inform the women of the new arrival.
“You worry too much, Your Highness." The Captain said, drawing Waylen’s attention back to him.
He sighed.
“Perhaps I do." He agreed. Perhaps he did.
She’s been gone for a few months now and word from Radiah tells me that it may yet be many months before the war is done. They are winning, and from the words on the page it sounds that they are faring far better than the first time Yvvie marched there. I don’t know if this is true, as letters don’t often carry the full weight of truth. She will tell me how it really went when she returns.
In the meantime, I have been making sure that honey flows, and liberally at that. We are in a measure of debt now, but so far it is nothing that we can’t endure. Lots of promises have been made, and in the future, some may come to me and demand a favor be returned in exchange for what I’ve asked of them these past few weeks and more. All prices to be paid, but I think I much prefer it this way than her way.
But when she comes back, she will want to know everything that has happened in her absence, and what has been done about it, and to know of what has failed to happen. Her mind is sharp, not unlike my own, but we are very different people. She is like a knife, sharpened to excess and on both sides. Effective, and brutally so. What soldiers she did not take with her have been maintaining a spider’s web around Atina Nah, stretched taut but holding.
I’ve helped them all I can, sending luxuries out as gifts, placating the tribes as much as I am able. It seems to be working, my generosity and bribery doing a lot more lifting than what her sword would have done by cutting. She’s effective, but I fear it is nothing but short term. An unruly whelp fears their parents’ scolds but only when they are angry. As soon as the parent calms or departs, the whelp is unruly yet again.
Bribery isn’t good parenting either, but if I can convince enough of the tribes that they are better with us at their head than without, then that might give them pause. If I can inflict a draught onto the rebel forces that try to strangle us from the shadows, then that will be the long-term solution we need if Anya Sur is to survive as the head of this new serpent.
When she returns, I know she will be pleased to see that nothing has gotten worse. I can even show her that things have improved! She won’t like that we have many more debts and owe many more favors, but my tongue is as sharp as her sword. I will convince her that my methods are working, and that the struggle will be worth it in the end when the fighting stops, and our people can live in peace for the first time in more than a century.
I must make her understand that the blood we’ve spilled will rise past our ankles if we are not careful with our course. Bloodshed brought us to this place, and more of it will only keep us here.
Waylen felt much the same way as he would have back home. Being called for so abruptly, and without any warning, was so much like what his own mother would have done, and the end result was never pleasant. He was feeling that same sense of dread as he followed Ser Lyrren down the hall, every footstep drawing him further and further away from the safety of his own rooms and his companions.
Marissa and the others had already begun preparing tonight’s dinner for everyone, but now whatever would have been for his plate would go to waste if no one made room to eat it. Her Majesty had waited until the last moment to send for him. He did not even have time to change into one of his finer tunics.
“Ser Lyrren, did Her Majesty give a reason for tonight’s dinner?" He asked as they walked, as he’d not been told why when he’d been summoned, apart from being told it was dinner.
He was currently surrounded by dragons. The only one not significantly taller than him tonight was Captain Norra, who kept pace with him but a single step behind. Further behind him were another two dragons that had come with Ser Lyrren, and neither were faces he recognized from the group Captain Norra commanded. Waylen presumed they were members of the Queen’s own guard. Both were as tall as Ser Lyrren and were very strong looking males.
“No, Your Highness, she did not." The dragon replied.
Was he lying or telling the truth? Waylen didn’t know the answer, but he would have liked to. He’d only met Her Majesty twice in all the time he’d been here. She was a distant, but heavy presence. He knew she was here, somewhere, but always aloof and unwilling to engage with him. Perhaps if things were different, had been different, these past several years she would be much more cordial. The others were probably back in his room discussing why he might have been summoned at such short notice.
He was worried, his fear of asking too many questions was rising high within him now. It was only the previous day that he’d been taken to see the tournament grounds. Perhaps there was more to that conversation between Commander Nell and Her Highness? Waylen had to control his habit of overthinking; he didn’t speak their language! They could have spoken of any number of things and not one of them would have been about Her Majesty.
“I see. I hope she is not displeased with me in any way." He replied.
Waylen almost regretted having said anything of sort as soon as it left his lips. He had yet to be given a single reason to believe that the dragons were wise to why he had been sent to Anya Sur. Upon hearing him, the Ser Lyrren then quickly pivoted his head to look at him, and for a brief moment Waylen thought he’d seen an expression of surprise on the dragon’s narrow face. It was gone as soon as it had arrived, so who’s to say if it was real or imagined.
“No, Your Highness. Her Majesty merely wishes that you join her for dinner." The dragon told him.
He nodded in reply, but he wasn’t feeling any better. He’d invited her to dinner himself not so long ago and had been refused. Now, suddenly, she’s reversing her course? Was she drawing him in as an apology, perhaps? Had his dinner with her daughter changed her tune? Or perhaps it was his visit outside the city, that conversation between the Commander and the Princess. Waylen drew in a quiet breath and tried to relax himself. He would not know anything until he was in her towering presence.
Ser Lyrren then led him to the part of the Keep where Her Majesty and her daughters kept their rooms. Despite every hallway looking nearly the same as any other, at least this area had a large intersection that helped it to stand out from the rest. Waylen could remember his first time here and being led down the left path towards the dining room, and so when the dragon guiding him walked straight through the intersection instead of turning, Waylen was confused.
This was not the way to the dining room.
“Are we not going to the dining room?" He asked.
“No, Your Highness. Her Majesty rarely uses that room. The two of you will be having dinner in her drawing room instead." The dragon explained it to him.
He was being taken to her private rooms, so much like his own mother. How many times had he stood in mother’s sunroom while she drank tea in between her many lectures? He’d lost count. Waylen bit down lightly on the end of his tongue, like a warning. He was not in Illian and Her Majesty was not his mother. The Queen was a lot of difficult to understand things, but if she was inviting him to have dinner then he should be taking it at its face value and not searching for secret messages in her actions.
They passed by Princess Vienna’s doorway, Waylen wondering if she and her husband were there, and then not too much later they stopped at an unassuming door guarded by four dragons. Ser Lyrren approached one of the guards, spoke with him briefly in Atinan, and then the guard began to speak to one of his peers who then reached out a hand and knocked on the door rhythmically. It was not a normal knock, but instead two quick raps of the knuckles followed by a pause, then single solid knock with only the base of the palm.
He thought that was odd, but before he could invest any more time to consider it, a sharp whistle sounded from the other side of the door. Ser Lyrren approached the door and opened it while the guard he’d spoken to resumed his post.
“Your Highness." He was welcomed inside, and he cautiously entered.
He then found himself standing in a simple, modestly sized drawing room. It was square in shape with carved stone walls. The ceiling was higher than most others in the Keep and hanging in the middle was a simple, but sturdy-looking metal chandelier that supported five lanterns from its hooks. Between the lanterns and the light color of the stone walls, the room was quite well lit and very warm.
But Her Majesty was not here, and every door was shut, save the one he’d just entered from. Ser Lyrren followed him inside and stepped around him to approach the room’s centerpiece. A round wooden table sat beneath the lantern light, and it was furnished with only two chairs. The table itself was bare of any silverware or setting.
“Your Highness, Her Majesty is most likely very busy so she will join you soon, please you may sit." The dragon said while withdrawing one of the chairs from the table for him.
Waylen thanked him but replied that he would like to wait until Her Majesty had joined him before he took a seat. The dragon nodded, pushing the chair back into place.
“Since Her Majesty must be preoccupied, you are welcome to wait for her here until she arrives. I do not know what progress has been made on tonight’s dinner, so I will leave you in her care until I return." Ser Lyrren then told him.
“I’m to wait alone?" He asked then, suddenly feeling vulnerable.
“Yes, but the wait should not be a long one. If she asks, please tell her I intend to return soon with dinner." The dragon told him, then excused himself.
The dragon made a quick exit, shutting the door quietly behind himself. Waylen was now alone in a silent room. He stood still at first, listening for the noises of life, but found none. Whatever Her Majesty was doing was either in a room very far away or she was just being very quiet. The seconds then became a minute, and as the second minute approached Waylen finally moved from his spot and approached the table.
He touched a hand to the back of the chair and considered sitting but then stopped himself. It would be more polite to remain standing until she joined him, and then they could sit together. Without knowing how long he would have to wait, he began to examine the rest of the room, moving his eyes around the walls. The only furniture apart from the table and chairs were bookshelves. They were made of wood, but the construction did not look Radian. Neither did the table nor chairs for that matter.
The shelves stole his attention, each one adorned with an assortment of items. He approached one of the shelves and found a variety of small cloth-wrapped parcels of differing sizes and shapes, each tied shut with threads or ribbons. There were small wooden boxes, too, each with their own unique size and shape. Waylen dared not touch a single thing, but as he studied each item with his eyes, he found that most of what was on the shelf was wrapped in cloth or inside a box.
There was a single sheathed dagger on one shelf, neither wrapped nor boxed. He left that bookshelf to study another, finding more parcels, spying then a Radian hourglass, its top covered in a thick layer of dust. Looking back to the other items he saw that they, too, had a layer of dust over them. Waylen pivoted to look at the opposite wall and the bookshelves that were there. More parcels wrapped or boxed, and then the occasional personal item mixed in with them.
He thought he had it all figured out now. These bookshelves were the place where gifts went to die. They had to have been gifts, things given to her over the years, and she just sat them on the shelf without bothering to open most of them. The items standing out on their own like the dagger or the hourglass probably hadn’t come in a box or a wrapper when she’d received them.
Waylen didn’t want to touch anything, but out of all the things on the bookshelves, his curiosity was drawn most tightly to the only items in the room that were actually books. In the corner of the room, on a single shelf, sat a baker’s dozen of books. The leather of their bindings looked very old with the spines so worn that it looked as if Her Majesty had read them many dozens of times. He could not see any titles written on the spines, so his curiosity finally bested him. He reached out, gliding a finger from one book to another until he settled on one that was especially well worn.
He carefully slid it from the shelf, gently blowing away a thin layer of dust. He saw no title on the front cover, but after flipping it open, he found that it was a Radian work. It was very old. Waylen had seen books with bindings like this before, but they were in the castle library, and he was seldom allowed to touch them. Everything he’d been given to read was bound differently and in much better repair than this.
He turned the first of its yellow pages and found the title. It was a playbook for The Shepherd of Old Wood. It’d been a long time since he’d last seen that play. The door next to him suddenly began to open and he snapped the book shut in surprise.
He quickly pivoted on his heel to face the doorway as Her Majesty stepped into the room, dressed fully in a brown and red tunic, but no armor that he could see. It was very similar to what Princess Vienna wore the few times he’d met with her.
Waylen was in an awkward spot, partially obscured by the door as the Queen held it open. There was a look of confusion on her face before she noticed him standing behind the door. She swung the door shut, and while he still held the book in his hand, he brought his other up to offer her a salute.
“Good evening, Your Majesty." He told her with a bow of his head.
He watched her eyes as they met his own before darting down to the book in his hand, and her look of irritation grew. Without saying a word, she approached him, her great height looming over him like a predator. She snatched the book from his hand, a sharp chill running up his spine as she lifted the book high and pushed it back into place on the bookshelf.
“You are not a child, do not touch everything just because it’s there." She told him sharply, then pivoted herself on a heel and started moving towards the table. His heart was now pounding in his ears, and his skin felt cold.
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I thought I had recognized what the book was, and I only wanted to see if it was true." He lied, his voice wavering with weakness despite his best effort to hide it. It was enough that she turned back to look at him, and her look of irritation held for a moment before she exhaled, then relaxed.
“Those are Myunn’s, and they are very old. Sit." She told him before pulling out a chair for herself.
He approached the table to join her, feeling like his body was now made out of heavy wood. He withdrew his seat and sat down in it.
“Thank you for inviting me to dinner, Your Majesty." Waylen told her.
She stared at him for a moment, then nodded.
“Lyrren brought you?" She asked him.
“Yes, Your Majesty, I was escorted here by Ser Lyrren and Captain Norra, and two guards I did not know." He replied, and then she leaned back in her chair, the wood creaking under her weight as she did. She was back to staring at him and it was making him uncomfortable.
“And he left you by yourself?" She asked, and Waylen explained that Ser Lyrren had left to check on dinner and would be returning with it shortly.
“They are cooking slowly today." She then said with irritation before pushing herself back up and out of her chair.
Waylen didn’t know if he was expected to join her, but she was already gesturing with her hand for him to remain where he was. She left the room through a different door, and he turned his head to see where she’d gone. The adjacent room she’d stepped into was… Completely furnished in Radian. He couldn’t see much from the table, but there were a lot of wooden items that looked like they were of Radian construction.
Her Majesty was making a lot of noise in the room, like she was searching for something, the clinking of glass coming through the doorway. When she emerged, she was holding a bottle of wine in one hand and two empty glasses in the other. She returned to her seat and put the glasses on the table, pushing one towards Waylen.
She then surprised him by removing the cork with her fingernails, and then she began to liberally pour herself a glass of wine. The bottle was Radian, though he could not see the vintage.
“You did not drink much wine at dinner on your first day. Water will be brought with dinner for you if you grow sick of wine." She told him once her glass was overfilled, and then she began to fill his own. He did not need to tell her when to stop as he had feared. She stopped just short of giving him half of a glass.
“Thank you, Your Majesty." He replied and reached for his glass, hating that he could feel his hand trembling despite trying to stay calm. He hoped that she did not notice.
He took a sip to be polite and was grateful it tasted good. It was the first pleasant thing he’d experienced since leaving his room, and then he noticed she was staring at him again. He didn’t know if there was something wrong, so he was forced to ask her.
“Your Maj-“ He tried to begin, but she curtly cut him off.
“Yvvie." She said, her eyes glued on him still.
He paused, uncertain of what to say, he was confused.
“Yeh Vee. We are in private, Waylen, you need not honor me here with my title. You can speak my name." She told him.
He nodded slowly, feeling unsure of everything.
“Yes, Yvvie. I will." He relented, doing as he was told.
“Do you do the same to Lyrren? Norra or my daughters, or your guards?" She asked, her voice stern.
“I did not know. I am sorry." He replied.
She snorted, then lifted her glass and tossed it back, draining a good portion of it in two gulps. When she lowered it back to the table she sighed.
“It has been a long time since your father visited, but I had assumed he still knew enough to teach you simple courtesy." She then said.
“I am very sorry, Yvvie." He stammered, and then it must have become clear to her how uncomfortable he was.
“I am not trying to frighten you, Waylen. Everything you do comes to my ear, and the longer you are here the more I learn how little your father prepared you. He sent you to me without having even told you not to go around touching people as if you were in Radiah! You are fortunate you had done that to Thalla in your rooms and not elsewhere, few in the Keep can keep secrets without me threatening to have them skinned." She continued, and Waylen didn’t know what to say.
He sat in his chair, the room feeling hot and stuffy, suddenly claustrophobic. Her words were echoing those of his own, and of Shane’s, laying it out for all to see and hear that Radiah had truly fallen in the years since their two kingdoms had signed the Treaty of Five Kings.
Her Majesty stared at him for a moment longer, then looked away, exhaling hard before lifting her glass again to down the rest of its contents. She had emptied her glass in only two swallows, and then she told him to remain seated as she herself began to push herself out of her chair. She stood, lifted the bottle and refilled her glass, then sat the bottle back down before walking around the table to leave for the adjacent room a second time.
Waylen drew in a deep breath before harshly exhaling, feeling like he was struggling just to breathe. Even when his mother was at her worst he never felt so threatened. Her Majesty was a towering figure, frightening in scale and with power he’d heard so much about. When she returned, he jumped in his seat when the door shut loudly behind him.
She moved around the table to retake to her seat, placing a fresh bottle of wine right next to the first, before sitting down again. In her hand was a small wooden box, which she sat down on the table before picking it up again. Waylen didn’t know what to say to her now, he felt trapped. She was now staring at the box in her hand, then after a long moment she opened it, looked inside, then snapped it shut again like she didn’t know what to do with it.
“My husband is better with words than me. I will do my best to give this to you as he would have done, as he did for your siblings." She finally said after a long moment of staring at the box. She stood up again and walked around the table before asking him to join her.
He felt heavy, but managed to rise from his seat with the dragon in front of him, towering over him like Anya Sur did the entire city. She lifted the box and opened its lid, then reached inside to remove a piece of metal. She held it in her palm for a moment, then sat the box down on the table next to them.
“This is a gift to you, Waylen. It is a brooch that Myunn had made for you when we first learned of your birth. It should have been given to you as a baby, but I was too impatient and insisted that we leave to visit Radiah before it could be finished by the jeweler. Your brothers and sister each have one, and now this one is yours." She told him before offering the brooch.
He hesitated, but then found the courage to lift his hand, and she dropped it into his palm. The brooch was heavy, made of solid steel. It was ornate, its design resembling his family’s crest. The head of Radiah’s double-sided axe was in the center, and wrapped around it like a wreath were two oak boughs. Whoever made this was talented, the steel shaped expertly to capture the detail of the axe head, and the boughs were intricate with their bark and the small tufts of leaves that gave it life.
Waylen had seen his brothers wear heavy metal brooches like this before on their tunics, but he did not know where they’d come from. Now he knew.
“Thank you, Yvvie." He told her, looking up the long distance to her face. She nodded once to him, then took a step back.
She then seemed to retreat back around the table to resume her seat, gesturing for him to do the same. He sat, still holding the brooch in his hands.
“You can put it back in the box, you don’t have to wear it now." She told him, then grabbed her glass and took another large drink.
Waylen picked up the box, wooden with a red felt lining on the inside, and sat the brooch down within it before closing it shut and returning it to the table.
“What did you think the book was, if it compelled you to pull it off of his shelf." She asked him then. For a moment he struggled to get his thoughts together, caught off guard again and scrambling to remember what books even were until he succeeded.
“I thought it might be a playbook." He lied again; he had no idea what the book was of. It’s just the one he decided to grab because it was so well worn. “It’s The Shepherd of Old Wood."
“He read all of those books when he was learning to speak Radian. He made me read them after he was done, and then our daughters. He could recite some of them from memory if he wanted." She explained to him, revealing at the same time why some of the books were so worn-looking. They’d been repeatedly read for many years.
“The Shepherd of Old Wood is a good play. I haven’t read it as a book, but I saw it performed when I was younger." He told her.
“I only know it as written on the page. Edgard made me endure a play once, but it was for a different story. A woman fell in love with her dead husband’s horse before taking her own life after the horse dies." She continued.
He knew the play, but he was shocked to hear her speak so much and so openly. Waylen wasn’t sure he was prepared to hold a real conversation with the Queen of Atina Nah.
“I’ve seen that play, too." He replied.
He’d seen it twice, but he didn’t like it either time he saw it performed. The first time was when he was very small and he didn’t understand it, and the second time was a few years after that, and he still didn’t understand it. Now that he’d come of age and had read so many other plays and seen more performed, he thought he now understood the point. The main character’s husband died suddenly, but she still had his horse, and since the horse was all she had left of her husband she became very attached to it. The horse then fell ill and died, and after having lost both her husband and the last thing of his that reminded her of him, she killed herself in her grief. Understanding it did not increase his enjoyment of it.
“We do not have plays here, even though he tried. He thought that he could transport plays the same way he could wood and steel, and that the people would enjoy them." She continued, then drank more.
“King Edgard did?" Waylen asked, thinking of his ancestor.
She scoffed, drank again from her glass, then resumed talking.
“No, Edgard did not care for plays. Those were for Heron. She liked them. Myunn wanted plays to be popular here, but Atinans do not like plays. We do not need a stage to tell each other our stories, unless it is for a fire dance." She answered.
For the first time since he arrived, he felt like Her Majesty was revealing herself to be a real person, speaking so informally with him. He dared not let down his guard, but his fear had been quieted somewhat, his calm returning.
“Queen Heron liked plays?" He asked her then.
“Yes, all the women in your family liked plays. Your men, save a few, did not. They enjoyed our fire dances more, though it was rare that any of them got to see one." She told him.
King Edgard and Queen Heron were so long since dead that he didn’t know very much about them. He knew their names, where they each sat in his family tree, and the history attached to them, but they weren’t people he knew like his own parents. Did Her Majesty really remember people from so long ago?
“You remember them well?" He asked her.
“Your…" She said, then heaved a sigh while shutting her eyes.
“You say it in your tongue like this, don’t you? Great great grandparents?" She said the last part slowly.
He nodded to her that they did. She made a quiet noise in her throat.
“Yes, I remember them. I remember everyone I meet if I’ve met them more than once." She told him.
There was a knock on her door, and Her Majesty sharply whistled without warning, making him jump in his seat. Did dragons always whistle like this, it was so loud! The door opened and Ser Lyrren, or just Lyrren, stepped inside first, and then silently urged a pair of younger servants into the room. One pushed a serving cart while the other carried a large metal plate covered in what looked like table settings.
“Your Majesty, dinner is ready." Lyrren bowed to her, and she nodded with irritation and gestured impatiently with her hand to serve it.
She continued to look impatient as all three dragons quickly set the table for them. Waylen and Her Majesty were each presented with a small plate and a pair of utensils, just a knife and a fork. A large metal bowl was placed between them in the center of the table, and the lid was removed. It was meelish, the meatball dish from his first dinner! He hoped they tasted the same as before. A pitcher of water was produced, and then a wicker bowl was then taken from the cart, which was laden heavily with small bread rolls. Tan, if Waylen recalled their name correctly.
When the trio were done Lyrren removed another bottle of wine from the cart and asked if Her Majesty needed anything else.
“No. You may wait outside." She told him curtly, and he bowed and ushered the other two dragons out of the room along with the serving cart. The bottle of wine had been left on the table. There were now three bottles that Waylen could see, and he had no idea if Her Majesty had any more hiding in the other room.
“You looked like you enjoyed meelish when we ate together last, so I had that prepared for tonight." She told him, not hesitating to grab two meatballs at a time with her fingers before dropping them onto her own small plate.
He did the same, but with his fork instead, using his knife to knock the meatball off the fork and onto his plate before reaching for another. His method was not as quick as Her Majesty’s, but it left his fingers clean.
“I did enjoy the meelish, but I liked everything I tried that night." He lied, thinking of the camel meat he’d been told was used for the valli.
“You do not need to lie. You wear too much of your grandfather’s face when you eat something you don’t like. Was it the camel meat?" She asked him, like she had the power to peer into his own thoughts.
He froze in place, holding his knife halfway through cutting one of the meelish on his plate to make it smaller. What did she mean that he wore his grandfather’s face, and how did she know that he didn’t like the camel? Had he not hidden that as well as he thought he had?
“The camel meat surprised me." He finally said after a moment.
She grunted, a noise deep in her throat. Her Majesty popped a meatball into her mouth and chewed. Only after she swallowed did she reply with words.
“I should have lied when you asked what meat was in the valli." She told him, then reached for the opened bottle of wine to refresh her glass. He’d hardly touched his own wine, so he joined her by taking a drink.
“I did not think that it tasted bad, it’s just that camels are ugly and have a bad smell to them. I much prefer horses." He told her, deciding to let himself be candid with her if she was doing so with him.
She made another noise in her throat, almost like she was holding herself back from chuckling.
“Should I have served you horse instead? It can be arranged." Her Majesty offered, and then her mouth twisted into a toothy smile while his own expression went slack at the suggestion that she’d slaughter and serve him a horse.
“I would prefer camel." He confessed, preferring to spare the horse and punish the camel if those were to be his only choices.
“You are not the first to complain of camel, and not the last. I can have the big kitchen slaughter one of our pigs the next time valli is served. Any large animal will do." She told him.
He thanked her.
Afterwards, Her Majesty focused on her meal and her wine. Waylen was unsure if he should provoke conversation or simply enjoy his own meal the same as she was doing. The meelish was good, and so was the bread and wine. He had to admit to himself that the simplicity of Atinan meals was better for him than the meals at home. At least here, he could trust that everything he was being served, simple as it was, was something he would enjoy eating. That was not always the case at home when the servants brought out course after course.
“I was told you were taken to see where the tournament is to be held. What did you think of it?" She suddenly asked him.
He had to swallow first, which gave him a brief moment to think of his reply.
“I left me feeling very excited for the tournament." He replied, pausing for a moment before deciding not to use her daughter’s title, since they were still in private. “Vienna showed me a great deal. From what I have been told, it is the tournament that I am most interested in seeing."
She grunted in reply.
“I had not been made aware that she planned for you to see the grounds, but it is good that you are excited. A great deal of effort goes into preparing the city for the Festival." She then told him.
Waylen then thought back to the conversation between Her Highness and Commander Nell. Without the ability to speak Atinan, he would never know for certain, but now he thought he understood the nature of it. Her Majesty had not known that he was being taken outside the Keep yesterday.
“Vienna did explain that a lot of effort was spent each year for the Festival. I cannot imagine how difficult it must be to bring it all together properly. Though, she only told me about the work done for the tournament. I understand that a lot of cooking must be done for the banquet, as my own cooks will be preparing a dessert, but I have not been told much about the parade." Waylen replied.
“The banquet is the easiest to sort. Everyone is expected to arrive when they are told to, and then dinner will be served. There will be a fire dance for entertainment." She told him, mentioning fire dance again, something he didn’t know anything about.
After another large swallow from her glass, she continued.
“The parade is the most difficult, as we must work with the entire city to plan it. I cannot simply command them as I would my army, so the work of it is slow. We will start at the courtyard in front of the Keep and travel through most of the city. You will see my people gather to watch while they eat and drink. There will be fire dances at all the cisterns, much singing. It’s been a very long time since one of you have come to see it." She finished, then immediately took another drink.
“I am very glad that father chose me to come, Yvvie. The longer I am here the more I wish I knew about Anya Sur." Waylen told her earnestly.
She made a noise, nodded, then resumed eating. He was a bit taken aback, as he’d expected more of a response than that from her.
“What is a fire dance, if I may ask?" Waylen asked her, hoping to spur some additional conversation. He did want to know what those were, since she kept mentioning them.
She exhaled, then ignored him for a long moment while she continued to eat.
“Will be easier for you to see it, than for me to explain it. Or ask Lyrren, he will tell you." She replied.
Waylen quietly shrugged; this moment reminding him of his mother. She would talk, talk, and talk at him during one of her lectures, but if he ever asked for an explanation, she would sometimes get angry at him for asking, or tell him to learn it from someone else. She wanted to be listened to more than she wanted anything else. Waylen found himself missing the forthcoming nature of Her Majesty’s daughter, Princess Vienna, seemed much keener to educate than her mother was.
He nodded, thanking her, but certainly not for refusing him an answer.
After that she was not much for conversation. She ate until all she seemed content to do was refresh her glass of wine and drink it until dry. He lost track of how much she’d drank, but it was more than he’d seen anyone else in his life. Did dragons not get drunk? He couldn’t tell, but as he finished his own meal it seemed like she was becoming more sluggish with every drink she took from her glass.
“Are you done?" She asked him once he’d joined her with an empty plate and only a glass of wine left to enjoy.
“Yes, Yvvie. It was very good, thank you for inviting to dinner." He told her.
She nodded, then sharply whistled, startling him again.
“Goodnight, Waylen. I have much to do." She told him as the door opened, Ser Lyrren appearing within the frame.
It was clear he was being dismissed, and so he stood up from his chair, remembering to pick up the wooden box with the brooch inside. He offered Her Majesty a salute before turning to leave. Once he stepped out into the hall, the door was shut behind him, Ser Lyrren turning to greet him.
“Dinner went well, Your Highness?" The slender dragon asked him.
“Yes, dinner went well. Thank you." He replied.
The dragon then straightened his back, looking relieved.
“Very good. Now, let us return you back to your rooms." The dragon replied and began to lead him back the way they’d come.
Captain Norra and the two guards from before fell back into place within their wake, leaving Her Majesty to return to doing whatever it was she was busy doing, which to Waylen’s eyes appeared to be nothing but drink. Waylen shifted the box in his hands as they walked until he opened it to look inside. Within the center of the red velvet lining sat the brooch, shaped into the image of his family crest. After staring at it for a moment, he closed the box.