A Grace of Crowns | ☑ Queenkiller, Kingmaker #1

[01.1] The Girl Across the Sea

The process of measuring theurgy is known as the blooding. An individual of no theurgic ability is therefore naturally known as an unblooded.

—Corthair's Compendium of Theurgy

1

↝ THE GIRL ACROSS THE SEA ↜

Freehold of Cannersly, Elingar
the year 337 pos forma

Sir Edric's land was rich in soil and colour. A vineyard terrace cratering into a wide moat and Cannersly Hall at its centre. In harvest, it would be plump with greens and reds, just begging to be plucked. Now it blushed with the last touch of autumn; a sea of leaves in every shade of the sunset they were riding into.

Isla breathed in the air, rolling down the vineyards in their wagon, wind rushing through her hair. She loved their home, but it was small and their city cramped. Everyone in Cannersly, by contrast, seemed so free they may as well sprout wings and fly away.

The land could not have held more than a hundred serfs and members of Sir Edric's own household combined, but the entire estate had united in preparation for the crown prince's visit. The drawbridge was abound with supply carts and crofters. Barrels were unloaded, crates wheeled through the towering doors with much song and chatter.

It was amidst this confusion that a steward found Noi and Isla and escorted them within.

'Remember,' whispered Noi as they followed across the grand vestibule. 'Once we bring Haana home, there is room no more for you to slip.'

Yes ... that was her name. Soon, they would take her away from the sun-kissed colours of Cannersly, and into the grey drab that was Beltaer; from the glamour and comfort of Sir Edric's estate into their own genteel poverty. Even the hallway they now crossed was wider than the bedchamber their new ward would later must share with Isla. But surely a paddler's used to such conditions.

'Do you hear me?'

Isla refrained from sighing. 'I'm not a child. I've stopped having hiccups long ago.'

'Even so. It does good to take extra precaution.'

'Have I not been cautious all these years?'

'Yes, but things change, little miss, when you start taking care of someone else.'

'I've never –' The rest of Isla's sentence was interrupted by a shriek, for at that moment a great beast swooped upon them, missing Noi's head by a flight feather.

'Whitebill!' Aldir's voice boomed along with his fists on the table, but the erne had already fled down the hallway. 'Did he catch you?'

Noi fixed her topknot, stunned of words. It was Isla who asked, 'What was that about? He's usually well-behaved.'

'Wise Father only knows. He's been agitated of late.'

Isla led Noi to the table. 'I'm sure he meant nothing by it.'

'He could've done great injury, regardless. It will not happen again.'

'Isn't it his mating season? If you'd only allow him to winter with his flock –'

'Bonded creatures no longer have such needs. Something else troubles him, but that is no excuse.'

'I am fine.' Noi waved their worry away. Isla suspected she only wanted peace for Sir Edric's sake, who was already circling the table to meet them.

He carried his back straight, despite the limp that seemed only to grow more stiff with age. 'Noi, Isla. This is no fair reception on my part. The evening meal will be served shortly to make up for it.'