Chapter nine - Queen of gold

Walking through hallways, I falter on my feet, seeing the side of Rydan leaning against the wall. I’d meant to express my gratitude over the other day during supper. Still, in truth, I was avoiding his possible irritating tendencies Freya had spoken of.

Sucking in a breath, I stroll towards him. At the same time, his head turns, and his gaze latches on me.

“Rydan, right?” I ask as he faces me front on. He nods. “Can we talk?”

“We may,” he replies curtly, yet his eyes shine with amusement.

Ignoring it, I clear my throat. “I wanted to thank you for what happened the other day in the mess hall.”

He purses his lips as a frown warps his features like he had no clue what I was talking about.

“Adriel and Oran?” I prompt, refreshing his memory which seems to work as his expression smooths, and he clicks his fingers with a nod. “I just thought you didn’t need to...”

“I was just making sure you didn’t ruin my dinner by bludgeoning them two,” he concedes, and now it’s my turn to frown at that. I wouldn’t have bludgeoned them. I’d have scared them, perhaps cut them a little, so they knew their place—I pause on that idea, not needing to get into what could have happened.

“Well, thank you either way,” I say quietly. He doesn’t reply. His eyes just stay on me with slow and careful blinks. No smile present, but you can see he wants to by the corner tilting a tiny fraction. A beat of silence goes by, and I walk backward, hesitating whether I should say something else but seeing as there was nothing, I whirl to face the other way.

I hardly make it past a few steps before he’s saying, “You know, I saw how you defended Link that day.”

Stopping at how I’d initially thought our conversation to be over, I turn back around. Rydan pays no attention to me except his fingernails this time as he adds nonchalantly, “Have to say I was impressed.”

“Did you expect something else of me?” I ask, angling my neck as I stoop forward.

“Despite hearing you were related to Nathaniel Ambrose, I expected you to suck, yes, so now I have even more competition.” He drops his head with a dramatic sigh before glancing up at me. “I suppose it’ll be more thrilling this way.”

Anger suddenly dominates my mind, and I bite back my tongue, wanting to not give in. But I can’t seem to when I blurt out, “I’ve managed to trap thousands of creatures before, killed a Rumen first hand without any remorse, stood in front of an Ardenti with nothing but a goblet. What makes you think I can’t do that to you in this little competition of yours?”

Three blinks, three blinks, and then a smile grows on his lips, beaming like sunrays on his warm bronze skin. “Wow,” he breathes, and the questioning frown on my face doesn’t leave as he starts clapping slowly. “I mean, I was kidding about the competition, but you’re unmerciful. I like it!”

I keep quiet. Not even a laugh comes out. I’m sure I’m also glaring at him.

“Well, aren’t you just a doll to be around?” He wiggles a finger in my face. “Look at that smile.”

Such regret I have for thanking him. “Are you always like this?” I slap his hand away.

“Like what?”

“Childish?”

He tilts his head, looking upward in thought. “Certain days, I can be an adult.” Soft brown eyes dart back down to me. “Others... I choose not to. Or even some days I do both, I call it multi-tasking.”

That is just...I have no words truly.

Rydan can see I don’t as he smiles innocently at the concern written all over my face and pats my head, walking past but not before a whisper comes from him. “See you in training. Don’t forget to keep your competitors close, Ambrose.”

I glance over my shoulder and glower as he salutes, disappearing into the corners of the dark hallway. Part of me is glad he’s gone. The other is dreading the idea I’ll be seeing him every day and possibly for years if we both swear in as official Venators. After a few minutes of us talking, he already seemed like a right pain in my existence. Yet again, I’ve managed to live under the same roof as Iker for twenty-one years. I should be used to handling men like him.

“Nara!” Freya’s squeals make me jolt as she appears in front of me, linking her arm with mine. “Excited to see the queen tomorrow?”

Shit, the queen. “That’s tomorrow?”

Freya nods rapidly as we fall into step, down the halls. “I told Link how I am still petrified. I’ve seen her since I was but just a child, and yet I feel like heading straight to the toilets each time she comes. Do you ever feel that way when you get nervous? Or do you not get nervous? You seem like the type not to get skittish.”

I fold my lips to hide a smile—the smile I dared not show Rydan—because, during my short time here, I’d become fond of Freya’s ingenuous talks. Although I found it difficult adjusting to any friendship, I felt the most at ease with her, even Link. Luckily, I hadn’t driven them away. And when I’d finally told Freya I was a trapper, she only gasped and hugged me before saying how ‘marvelous’ that must have been.

. “If I’m honest, I do get nervous at times,” I tell her. “But I’ll let you in on a secret.”

Freya’s doe eyes go wide in anticipation as I whisper, “You just have to imagine your worst enemy running through the streets being chased by a Rumen... naked.”

She tips her head back with a laugh. “Oh, you are absolutely strange, Nara, and I adore you for it.” She hums with reminiscent of a smile still on her lips. “Except one issue, I have no enemies.”

“Then,” I drag the word. “We’ll have to introduce you to some.”

***

“Bested you once again, Link,” I pant the following morning, extending my palm out to him after we’d been at it in hand-to-hand combat. Ever since Freya and I sat with him for meals, he’d grown accustomed to us. He rarely spoke, but neither did I in comparison to Freya.

He wheezes, clutching his chest as he takes my hand, and I help him up. “How did you learn to fight like that?”

“I didn’t.” Except that I did with Idris. He never classified it as learning to fight. It was more of when we weren’t arguing; he’d show me counterattacks. I assume it was his way to teach me how to defend myself despite how protective he is. “Shall we go once more?” I reposition myself in a fighting stance, raising my dominant fist in front of my face and the other by the side of my head. Full of energy, I bounce around.

Link’s eyes go wide. A hesitation on his part as he scratches the nape of his neck where armory meets him. “I think...” he says before his eyes travel to the other side of the field. I observe how he’s now staring at Freya, drawing her bowstring back as she focuses on the target. “I think I will take a break instead,” he continues shyly just as she shoots it.

I drop my fists and narrow my eyes at him. “Alright,” I say, unable to hide the suspicion in my voice as Link lowers his gaze and stumbles over his legs. He jogs towards Freya, and I tilt my head at them both.

I smile over Freya’s bright laugh echoing the training grounds as soon as she sees Link. However, I can’t help looking to the far right of them where Rydan is cutting the air with his sword rather dramatically.

Scoffing, I crossing my arms at his foolishness until weapons and chatter fall silent. Even Rydan stops what he is doing and turns to the entrance of the weaponry room.

One by one, everyone looks that way where the queen steps out. I inhale sharply as my eyes journey the square neckline and cap sleeves of her samite dress showcasing her deep mahogany skin. Thick layers of gown flow behind, creating a lake of pure gold silk as coal-black hair cascades in waves down to her bodice. A crown fitted with glittered gilt jewels sits atop, resembling flames as they come to a point. Intimidatingly beautiful, Link had said, and he was not wrong. The queen Sarilyn Orcharian as everyone knew her, excels in elegance. Not a doubt about that.

One thing that consistently caused my curiosity to reign high was how the queen had never married, not from what I’d learned before. All I know is that there is no family heritage either, just her.

Beside her stands, Lorcan and the General, along with another woman dressed in a cool orange tone kirtle, whom I imagine is her lady in wait. Venators follow behind, guarding every movement because that’s what some were assigned to do. Venators are what guards should be to the queen.

The queen makes a hand gesture towards us all, and already I can see trainees resuming back to what they were doing, this time showing off whatever skills they might have. Adriel and Oran start sword fighting from the left, and anyone can gather that they are trying immensely to impress the queen. She did not even peek their way as I roll my eyes at them and stroll to where the practice dummies and daggers are by the table.

My hand grabs a double-edged blade, scolding to the touch that any sane person would drop it. I don’t as I divert my sight to the practice dummies ahead—the warmth of spring in Emberwell bats against my eyelids as I close them.

Inhaling with all my strength, I envision the target and parting my feet; I open my eyes, flinging the dagger. I go again, each time faster and stealthier, getting lost in the way it doesn’t once miss the center.

Focusing ahead, I reach for another dagger but find I’ve used them all. I drop my shoulders with a sigh, but too fast, I sense a presence around, causing me to turn. My gaze immediately fixates on a round pendant of pure gold with what looks to be three rivers intertwining over a compass—one down the middle, another across, and the last diagonal.

Realizing the pendant rests on that glowing mahogany skin, I lift my eyes at the queen. Lips painted in sheer gloss and her facial features so sharp yet so soft—I’d always been told how delicate my face is, with my button nose and that if I smiled, I smiled with my cheeks. But beyond it all, I was a torrent of winds. Somehow the queen was everything of that at once.

“What’s your name?” She asks. Her eyes, almost obsidian, and voice radiate that same grace while her lady in wait stares at me.

I consider imagining what I told Freya to do when nervous. This was the first time I’d ever witnessed the queen in the flesh and not through word of mouth. Now she is here asking me a simple question. Thankfully, I’m used to hiding my nerves well. “Naralia,” I answer, drawing in a breath as I add, “Ambrose.”

Alert yet with unimaginable grace, she tilts her head. “Ambrose?” She looks towards the General, parting her lips like waves of shock had gone through her. “You are Nathaniel’s daughter?”

A nod towards her as eyes slide to my face, and my gaze finds Lorcan’s on me like it always is.

“The Deputy sought to it that she joined us sooner than admissions after helping us capture the Ardenti,” The General says from behind the queen’s shoulder. He doesn’t even try to feign the begrudging tone in his words. One might say he hated me more now than the first day of training.

“Well, Erion, it’s not as if you didn’t do the same with Deputy Halen twelve years ago.” The queen swings her head in the General’s direction, a speck of humor in her voice that did not bide well with him as he turns stiff. “But an Ardenti?” She glances back at me, the humor now settling into wonder. “Remarkable for someone who’s never trained before.”

I try not to wince at that. Knowing I’d helped was one thing, but everyone seemed to speak of it as if I’d killed the dragon. I hadn’t touched it, not even used any form of weapon, yet it yielded at my feet. “I just want to carry out my dad’s legacy, your majesty.” I courtesy instead, and eyes slit to the General’s malice gaze as I send him a look that says, I will endeavor to be what my father once was.

“We should head for that meeting, Sarilyn,” he says too sharply.

“Yes,” the queen says slowly. “Let’s.” Not once does she take her eyes off me. “I trust I will see you at the arena fight next week, Naralía?”

“Of course.” I bow once more as she turns to walk off with her Venators and the General.

Her gown thrashes against the grass as Lorcan passes by. Hands behind him as he whispers, “You seem to catch everyone’s attention.”

I angle my head up at him. “Well then, I hope I don’t distract the queen, either.”

He shakes his head with a smile. “I’d sure hope not, Nara.”

My mouth parts, avoiding the slight dip in my chest over the way he said my name, the way it sounded musically between his lips. But right when I want to say something, he’s already following where the queen had left.

A frown stiffens my expression, seeing Adriel and Oran opposite me. Their stares hold nothing of friendly matter as they pause their practice. My nails curl into my palm, not cowering from them. The jealousy of the two pretty much melds with the air, yet I still do not submit, which is what they’d want me to do.

They nudge each other, cold glares as they go back to practicing and I to prying the blades from the practice dummies.

***

I jerk upright from my bed, having had a nightmare, hair strands matt to my face as I swallow my harsh gasps. I’d not had a dream of such in a while. The same one where my brothers and mother hid in the corner of my cottage, shielding each other. And the dragon, a distant haze of what I could remember right in front of me before Idris shot that arrow. By the time it had fled, my father had bled out... it was too late.

Calming my breathing, I sit up on the silk sheets of my bed, but among the quietness and soft breathing of Freya sound asleep, I know I won’t fall into slumber again. It’d been like this since I’d arrived. Not one day had I slept well.

Huffing, I conclude that perhaps I need fresh air or to trap frogs again.

Freya doesn’t wake as I get up and slide into my boots while hooking a cloak over my nightgown. Bending as I reach for the net I’d made, I slip past the door and down the sconce-lit halls until I’m outside, staring up at the moon. It’s a shade of orange this time, a rarity but a beautiful sight, nonetheless.

I make my way to where the ponds are but pause for a moment when rustling comes from the bushes. Scrunching my forehead, I scan the gardens full of nothing but thickets separating different sectors within the castle walls like a maze.

The noise stops, and carefully, I continue my path, nearing the pond, but as I let the net fall from my hands beneath me, footsteps on crunching greenery approach from behind. Before I can turn, an arm wraps around my waist, and a grimy hand covers my lips, causing me to grimace at the grotesque feeling.

Alarm prickles my skin as I try to pry the person off and kick while I’m hauled backward, but the bones of the slim arm digging into my abdomen quickly remind me of someone.

Adriel.

A/N
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