Her body ached from the unnatural position.
“I’m sorry to wake you but I know you have much to do today,” said Lobella.
Elyse yawned and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “Am I late?”
“No, Your Majesty. I made sure not to let you sleep in, just as you requested last evening.”
“Thank you,” said Elyse trying to manage a smile through the grogginess. She stood slowly, stretching out the stiffness. It wouldn’t do for her to be seen hobbling around the castle, too tired to keep her eyes open.
“Which book was it this time, Your Majesty?” asked Lobella as she prepared Elyse’s clothes for the day.
Elyse glanced back to the desk, noticing the first hints of dawn drifting through the window, and dancing across the worn pages. Having spent so much time looking at the book the previous night, she should have been able to recall its name without thumbing through its pages. It was a boring book, like most of them, but it was also one she should have read years ago.
Is that why I dreamed of you, Jonrell? To let you know you were right? But then, you said you would watch over me. Where have you been all these years?
“The Military Campaigns of Aurnon the First: Settlement of Cadonia,” Elyse finally answered.
Trying to be polite, Lobella responded, “It sounds very interesting.”
Elyse chuckled as she splashed cool water from the basin near her dresser onto her face. The water gave her goose bumps and she welcomed the sensation as she tried to bring life to her tired eyes. “The book is about as interesting as my undergarments.” She sighed. “Still, I must read it.”
“As you say.”
“Lobella?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“For the hundredth time, please call me ‘Elyse’ in private. It will mean so much to me.”
The girl blushed. “I’m sorry. I keep forgetting. I promise I’ll do better.”
Elyse smiled. “No need to apologize. It is just nice to relax in my chambers, away from everyone else.” Light slowly filled the room and Elyse breathed in deeply. “When is Gauge expecting me?”
“In half an hour.”
“Very well. Help me get dressed then. As you said earlier, I have much to do today.”
* * *
“Ah, Your Majesty. How are you this morning?” said Gauge rising from his seat.
“I’m doing well,” said Elyse, forcing a smile, fighting her exhaustion. They chose to meet in a secluded section of the castle’s gardens for privacy. The space was beautiful, but the view overlooked the inner courtyard where the marble had not fully come clean from the assault by High Mage Nareash some months ago. She suppressed a shudder. “How are you?”
“I’m afraid I’ve had better days.”
She waved him to a seat after taking hers and gestured for him to continue.
“There is a growing sense of unease, the first rumblings of rebellion.”
Elyse inhaled as her stomach knotted.
No. I’m not ready for this.
“Where are these rumblings coming from?” she asked, trying to seem calm.
“Inns and taverns mostly. War is becoming a popular topic of conversation.”
“These conversations are amongst the peasants though, correct? They often talk of such things to pass the time.”
“True, the common man enjoys gossip as much as the nobility. However, I think there may be some merit in preparation.”
“Preparation for war? Because of a few conversations amongst the commoners? That seems drastic. What happens if the nobility discovers us doing so?”
Gauge rubbed the forefinger and thumb of his right hand across his temple as he spoke, obviously stressed. “Actually, Your Majesty, I have reason to believe that the nobility have already started preparations of their own.”
“How so?”
“Well, as you know, we have informants throughout the land hidden in each duke’s inner circle. Aurnon the Third instituted this after the rebellion led by Jeldor’s family some years ago.”
Spies? Father kept me in the dark about so much.
Elyse nodded.
“Well, we’ve had reports that Duke Conroy has held more frequent and more private meetings as of late, each with his most loyal lords.”
“Can we really make an assumption that Conroy is likely to commit treason based on a few private meetings amongst his own lords? I understand your caution, but it is still his right to do so.”
Gauge reached into his breast pocket, pulling out a folded message that he handed over to Elyse. “I received this just half an hour ago.”
Elyse carefully read the letter, written by one of the informants. The writing was obviously a woman’s, the wife of a lord perhaps, though she gave no name. However, the queen gleaned enough information from the letter to understand that Duke Conroy arrested the woman’s husband on false charges, for his part in an elaborate plot to assassinate the duke. The wife suspected that the arrest was meant to draw her out of hiding and force a confession from her. She ended the letter by stating that many other arrests were made under similar circumstances but none of those actions would deter her from doing her duty. Elyse was speechless to hear that someone was so dedicated to the throne, despite never having met the queen in person.
A pang of guilt hit her. Feeling responsible for this woman’s distress, her stomach knotted further. “The letter mentions others. How many?”
“We aren’t sure, but it seems that nearly all of our contacts in Segavona, have disappeared, been arrested, or, in some instances, killed.”
“One Above,” she whispered under her breath.
Gauge continued. “We know that Olasi has already taken precautions to strengthen the borders he shares with Conroy and Tomalt. He was the first to return home after your father’s funeral. So far he has been able to keep most of the activity hidden, though I’m sure they will find out soon enough. I doubt either will do anything about it for now.”
“So Tomalt is gathering his forces as well?” she asked.
“We don’t know for sure, Your Majesty. We haven’t heard anything from our informants since your father’s funeral,” said Gauge, shaking his head.
“Maybe there is nothing to report then?”
“There is always something to report, Your Majesty. Even the most mundane messages about the cost of silk in other cities are sent to us. It would be one thing not to receive word on any military activity, but to not receive any messages at all is most troubling.”
“What about Jeldor and Bronn? You haven’t mentioned them,” she said, afraid to hear Gauge’s answer.
“We still receive our regular updates on Jeldor, though there is little in them. He is a man content to sulk around his castle and keep to himself.”
“And Bronn?”
“He had not reached Astrya, last we heard. In fact, some say he headed further south, though to where, we don’t know. Possibly Conroy? But, it could be nothing. Our reports have been steady but also conflicting. There has been a lot of activity around his northern border, near Jeldor, and we haven’t been able to discern why.”
Elyse’s head spun as she tried to process the information. Thankfully, it took her mind off her nervous stomach. “What does all this mean?”
“It’s hard to say with certainty. It could mean nothing, but then again it could mean everything.”
“So what you’re saying is that Conroy seems to be the biggest threat; Olasi is taking matters into his own hands; Tomalt might be a threat too, but no one is sure; Jeldor isn’t doing anything of importance; and no one can really figure out what Bronn’s doing. Is that it?”
Gauge grunted. “I believe that sums it up nicely, Your Majesty.”
“Anything else?” she asked with a heavy intake of breath.
“Not at the moment. I just wanted to make sure you were aware of these reports before meeting with the rest of your advisors. Speaking of your advisors….” Gauge leaned to the side of his chair, looking over the queen’s shoulder. Elyse followed his gaze. A young boy waited, bouncing in place and looking anxious. “I do believe the council is awaiting our arrival.”
* * *
Gauge opened the heavy oak door to the council chambers and entered to announce her arrival. Although this was not Elyse’s first time in council, her palms began to sweat.
Mostly men, few women held a seat on the council. Each person in attendance came from two distinct backgrounds, those whose reputation of hard work earned them their position, and those granted a spot on the council as a result of their wealth and status.
The former group was tough and hardnosed, never willing to give an inch in any discussion, thinking doing so would make them appear weak.
The latter group differed little, never budging from their stance as they felt entitled to be heard above the others. Therefore, it often took weeks for even the simplest of decisions to be reached.
At first glance, the meeting room resembled a holding cell for its lack of comfort. The chamber contained a lone distinguishing feature, a black marbled half wall that shielded a raised dais encircling the room.
The walls were free of any hangings, just as the floor was free of any rugs. Windows surrounded the room, closer to the ceiling than the floor, ensuring that no one would be distracted by the activity on the outside and no assassin could loose an arrow from afar. Aurnon the First had been very specific about the construction and adornment of each room in the castle. He was adamant that any room used to decide the fate of a country should be filled with nothing but the thoughts of those in charge of the task.
A domed ceiling, its center glass, allowed even more sunlight into the room. On days like today, when the sun shined brightly and a breeze blew in from the windows, the room felt less intimidating to Elyse.
All parties managed the appropriate smile and greeting as Elyse walked across the open floor. She crossed the room with grace, stepping lightly up stone steps where she joined the rest of her council seated behind the half wall. Seats faced inward toward the room’s center.
Elyse imagined how horrific it must be to be an advisor, standing in the room’s center over the great seal, the entire council glaring in disapproval, searching for a weakness in your words and eager to pounce on any mistake. Thankfully, her comments could be made from her seat. Still, she admired those who took the floor with confidence, almost daring someone to challenge their views.
What gives them such strength?
The usual people each took turns discussing the usual topics. Typically, there was plenty to say by all, regardless of how insignificant it all seemed to Elyse with the threat of rebellion fresh on her mind. She had only been queen for a couple of months and yet she felt bored with the same tired routine.
Phasin would often start things off by saying that the crown must build more merchant ships to increase trade with the Byzernian Islands and the great continent of Mytarcis across the sea. He would pound his fist into his hand, accentuating each sentence as sweat glistened off a head quickly baring more skin each day.
Vulira would then take the floor countering every point Phasin made before her. As often the case when discussing trade, Vulira would argue that Cadonia needed to grow more self-sufficient and rely less on foreign trade. She would argue that the only way to do so was to provide better equipment and more land for the farmers, more funds for the researchers and so on.
As rumor had it, the two were ex-lovers and the relationship ended on a sour note. The queen could not confirm whether the whispers were true but it was as good a reason as any for the special hatred the two shared for one another.
Vulira always took a much different approach than her supposed ex-lover. She spoke soft and sweet while nurturing each idea rather than beating the other council members over the head as Phasin did.
In the end, the room would be split, no one would budge on their stance and it would be decided to revisit the topic at another time. And so, the process would repeat itself once again upon their next meeting.
Each topic discussed thereafter often resulted in a similar outcome. Only minor topics seemed to get resolved, as none felt threatened by them.
Elyse could put a stop to the endless back and forth. Her advisors were meant to advise, not rule. But to do that, she would have to take a stance on the matters herself and she knew she lacked the knowledge and confidence to do so. The last thing she wanted was to appear incompetent to others, regardless of the truth of it. She might have had stacks of books in her room on trading routes, farming, and economics but her readings were focused elsewhere as she tried to gain a stronger understanding of her country’s history and overall political environment. So, when the council met, she did what anyone else in her position would do. She stalled, pushing topics she felt uncomfortable with to another day. Few seemed to mind her procrastination.
Probably delighting in the opportunity to argue their stance once again while never having to face the possibility they may be on the losing side.
Illyan, a small man, barely five feet in height, had the floor now and despite his stature, his voice held a great deal of power as it boomed against the chamber’s walls. His pleas contained a passion that many of the others lacked, though Elyse felt it overdone. Today he argued again the validity of improving the roads leading to and from Lyrosene and those lands directly managed by the crown.
Advisors noticeably yawned as Illyan carried on. Elyse had learned from Lobella, that many felt Illyan pushed his own agenda rather than looking out for Cadonia’s best interests.
Isn’t everyone pushing their own agenda?
Curly black hair bounced atop Illyan’s head as he strode around the room in a tone reminiscent of a father lecturing his child. Frustration crept into his voice and he stopped mid-sentence breathing a sigh. Starting again, he tried a different approach.
“Do my fellow advisors really wish to lose their position of power on this council? Do you wish to lose your lands or possibly even your lives?” Illyan asked.
A voice called out, disgust and anger lined the tone. “Are you threatening us now, Illyan? Is that the only way you hope to pass your ridiculous ideas?” The councilors stirred, muttering curses under their breath, all aimed at the short man.