The Unlikely Queens

6

Dear Dahlia,
I almost did not know what to write, but then I remembered that we do not know much about each other's lives. So I will begin. My full name is Mohtali Aswanem Dyru Hikulu. I am fifth monarch of my dynasty and the fiftieth Chief of Chiefs. My people regard me as blessed because of the coincidences of fives. That will be the last time I brag about myself. I am twenty-six years old. You might ask how I came to the throne at such a young age. My father unfortunately passed away last year and my mother, the Cyra, which basically means Queen of Queens in English, died shortly after giving birth to my brother Prince Nuhanu. He was with me the day we first met. What else should I tell you? I suppose I should tell you what I do in my little spare time, but I will save that for my next letter. I know that it may seem too soon, but I cannot seem to think of anyone or anything but you. Nobody has ever made me feel that I am their future in the way you have. I thank you for that. I cannot wait to read your letter.

Yours,
Mohtali

I fold the letter back so the broken purple seal meets again. A lion in mid-roar is imprinted into the wax. I wrote the same in my letter, my full name--Dahlia Constantina Livingston--a little about my parents, my friends, and that I enjoy embroidering, playing the piano, and that I want to start making my own clothes. I hope I did not bore him. My life is nowhere near as exciting as his, being born into royalty. I bury the letter underneath the dresses in my chest at the end of the bed and leave to meet Adelaide, Cecily, and Rosalind for a trip into the city.

~

The next day, I all but snatch Mohtali's letter from his border guard Okello and hand him mine, "Thank you!"

"Good day, Miss Dahlia." He takes off over the border and I begin my walk home, my hands trembling as I break the seal.

Dear Dahlia,

Would you believe that I have never heard the sound of a piano being played before? Perhaps you can play for me one day? I'm sure you are wonderful at it. As promised, I will tell you what I love to do. I enjoy archery and regularly compete against my brother. I like to hunt, play cards, and write poetry from time to time. My brother teased me just now because he thinks I am writing a love poem due to my joyful mood. I let him make fun. I have to tell you that I am afraid of being found out. For both of us. I do not want you to be shunned, punished, or even accused of treason for communicating with me. It is in the forefront of mind even as I write this, but that will not stop me from writing to you. This may sound completely ridiculous, Dahlia, but I believe I am in love with you. The way you describe yourself, your smile, the way you confessed your feelings to me, it all makes me think that I love you. Even danger of being shunned by own people will not keep me from you. I hope I have not made you uncomfortable with my proclamation of love and I sincerely hope you feel the same.

Love,

Mohtali

My heart soars. I wrote the same to him, that I love him even though it doesn't make any sense. All I know is that I want to know every detail about him, spend my days beside him, laugh with him, cry with him, and build a life with him. He is my destiny and I cannot begin to understand why. All I know that it is true. My heart yearns for him. I find myself daydreaming about him in the mornings when I wake up and reciting his letters in my mind when I am with my friends. At night, I pace quietly in my room and try to imagine his arms around me. We trade letters for a week, and then I am faced with my worst nightmare.

I walk into my house with today's unopened letter tucked securely in my inside coat pocket, excited to read it. Mother and father are in the front room talking excitably, but stop once I close the door behind me. I slowly walk in and see my parents standing with a stranger. HIs back is to me, but I can see his large build and curly dark hair. No.

He turns around with a bright smile, the same one I somehow described, and bows to me with a flourish due to a princess.

"Lady Dahlia," His deep voice is smooth and enticing. "I am Charles Keckley. My father is Colin Keckley, Duke of Brunsdon."

My God. Not only have I imagined a real person, but I have imagined the heir to the greatest fortune in the land. How could I have come up with his exact description? How is my luck so poor?

The Duke of Brunsdon is among the oldest and noblest families in Parandor. The Keckleys claim to be one of the original followers of King Edmund when he first arrived in Parandor to start his dynasty. Their family patriarchs have been dukes since then, bestowed upon their forefather by the king himself. This family is almost as rich as King Vincent. Any woman would be lucky to marry into such a prestigious family. I know the other nobles at court parade their daughters in front of the father and son, hoping to secure them a place as the future duchess.

I realize now I have not responded. I am staring at Charles with my mouth wide open and surely looking less than intelligent. My mother clears her throat to remind me.

"Sir," I give a small curtsy. "It is wonderful to make your acquaintance. Excuse my surprise. I did not expect to be greeted with such nobility today."

Charles smiles and looks over his shoulder to return my mother's knowing glance. It is as if they are already friendly. My mother's pursed lip smile and high eyebrows indicate, "See? I told you she was lovely."

"The Duke and his family are our neighbors to the east! Can you believe it?" Father says joyfully. "They are about an hour away, over the hills. Of course we know the family lived somewhere in the area, but they are usually at court with the king, as you know."

"Have you just come from there, Lord Charles?" I ask him.

My heart is beating out of time and it sends a sharp pain through my chest. I wipe my moist palms on my cloak and try to focus on the conversation.

"No, I have been here for about a month." He beams at me again and I can't help but take notice of his perfectly white teeth. "I will return to court in a week. I was taking a long ride in the area as I sometimes do and I decided to introduce myself to the other nobility in the area. Your mother was sitting outside embroidering when I rode up and I told her who I was."

"I told him he looked very familiar to me, but he was certain we had never met," Mother adds. "Then I remembered your description of him. Charles is the young man you have been seeing on your walks, darling. Once he heard that, he simply had to meet you for himself."

I stare at him again. He is tall, not as tall as Mohtali, but surely six feet tall or a little more. His ebony skin almost shimmers in all its glory. His curls fall over his forehead. I have to admit he is breathtakingly handsome. He looks even better than the sickly crown prince in his expensive cornflower blue and gold embroidered jacket and pants.

"I am not disappointed." Charles grins. "I hope I have exceeded your expectations, Lady Dahlia?"

"Indeed." I smile back the best I can.

"I know you have just returned from a walk, but may we stroll for a short while?"

I trade glances with both of my parents. They are obviously happy and urging me on to do this. I can not refuse, but I desperately want to. This road only leads to one destination. My parents will surely begin negotiations for a betrothal if this goes well.

I cannot make myself say no. Everything but the word yes is lodged in my throat.

I crush my thumbs in my closed fists and pray to God we become friends and nothing more. "Yes, my Lord."