Calaistas

Day Twenty-Three

"I'm in love with him," Queen Chlosis whispered, staring out the window. Calaistas purposefully did not pause as she brushed out the pale strands between her fingers.

The sun was coming up, setting the whole forest below them on fire. The queen had no time of her own; already a million things demanded her attention. Calaistas listened to every word as she helped her mistress prepare for the day.

"I knew it before, I'm sure, but last night I really realized it for the first time. I'm sure he feels the same way. He has to feel the same way. I invited him for breakfast this morning. I'm sure he feels the same way."

"He is a strong man," Calaistas said, fixing her hair, "worthy of your admiration."

"I put aside time for him," Chlosis thought aloud. "His family will arrive after that, and I think it best that they be given time for themselves. I'll distract myself with my cousins. They're all complaining about something."

Leandrios woke up that morning and stared at the ceiling. Everything had changed. He was to have breakfast with the queen. Of course they had had more than breakfast before, but now she was the queen. She was in her palace. She was real.

He let the attendants come and put him in more uncomfortable clothes. He let them lead him down the tunnels, through doors and into a spacious room. Another door led outside onto a balcony, and he tentatively walked out. The queen spun toward him.

"Leandrios," she smiled.

He remembered to bow. "Your Majesty."

"Call me Chlosis. That's always what the 'C' stood for." She indicated a table, swooping over to one of the seats.

She did look more like C today. Her hair was down her back, swept away with a thin, silver band along her forehead. Her eyes sparkled like electric lights.

Leandrios fell into the other chair, trying to hold onto his last fragments of sanity.

An attendant started to place things on the table; he saw her blue hands and looked up. Calaistas could have been made of stone. Her eyes were lowered as she set out fruit, cereals, drinks. Leandrios couldn't help but feel uncomfortable.

"I wanted to be sure you were all right," Chlosis began, "if you had any questions."

Leandrios didn't even want to get into it. "It's none of my business," he answered, "what you want to tell people. What you want them to know. I've been caught up in politics before. It's a game over my head. I have no interest in getting involved."

"I just want you to know that I esteem you worthy to know the truth. You deserve answers. I'm happy to oblige." She smiled as her handmaiden plated her food for her. No one had served or waited on her for what seemed an age. As Calaistas, no one was expected to. Everyone in the court and everyone in service was scared of the Drakiri.

He didn't say anything for a minute, wondering if he was hungry. "I guess I would like an explanation," he decided. "What have I been doing for the past twenty days?"

Chlosis deftly lifted a knife and fork, and Leandrios saw the warrior in her wrists. "You've been helping me recover a rightful possession of mine. Of course, no one needs to know that. You've been looking for your fortune in Sylvansbrook, making home of The Queen's Own. You defended its occupants against Angrick, losing control of, for lack of a better term, a riot and consequently ridding the world of a cruel tyrant. I was delayed for reasons undisclosed on my way to bring Angrick to justice for our discovery of his illegal activity. I brought you back with me, and the rest is the present. Of course, we haven't told anyone of your part in either the truth or the lie."