A Timely Knight

A Blooming Flower

Estella Rose Lovegrove sat alone in her room, eyes on the window, admiring a sea that only she could see.

She missed the sea. She hadn't seen it since her last visit to Woodport, more than ten gears ago. Ivoryport, like most cities in Makina, had port in its name, but no sea surrounded it. The nearest body of water in this cold and pearly capital, the plain and minimal lagoon known as the Phour, was frequented by several members of court, making it the worst place for her at the moment.

Indeed, she had not been deaf to the gossip around Leverfort. Those insults, the accusations that she had tainted the Royal Family with the spawn of the Beast. Over the last few days, the voices had turned more violent, more condemnatory. The nobility of Makina, who never seemed to agree about anything, now were very much certain about something: There was no more room for the Forgers in the Lever Throne.

The idea of revolution would've been ridiculous before. Samuel may have been a lot of things, but a man of war was not one. Quite the opposite, he was a peacemaker who detested conflict and actively avoided it. From the moment he drew his last breath, the kingdom had been a pit of chaos and uncertainty and Estella was beginning to think her days as Queen were numbered.

What would that mean for her? Where would she go? She had no living relatives other than Buford, who wouldn't piss on her if she was on fire. For the first time in forever, Estella found herself alone. And she wasn't sure how she felt about that.

She had been entertaining thoughts about making it on her own. Travelling to some distant place, far away from everything and starting over. Some foreign island on Chroneast, or an uncharted piece of land in the depths of Petrol. She had always dreamt of going as far away from Makina as a girl could get. But fear had always paralysed her. Fear and unwillingness. Now, it seemed she wouldn't have a choice on the matter.

A chill in the air made her shiver. She stood up and covered herself with a blanket before going back to the chair.

Lately, she hadn't been feeling well. Her body seemed frail; it constantly quivered and hurt. Some days, she barely had the energy to get out of bed, let alone come out of her room. Her head was heavy with thoughts and ideas, and with a voice that refused to go away. The four walls that now surrounded her had become both a prison and a refuge. She was a captive of her own life.

She sighed, feeling as if not enough air was entering her lungs. A familiar pressure in her chest made her feel enclosed and she suddenly wished she could be out there, in the open, running for dear life.

But what would you do out there? The voice asked and Estella growled in response.

Ever since she had first started hearing it, Estella hadn't been able to get rid of that annoying whisper. At first, she had been able to ignore it. As the days went by, however, it grew louder, insistent, desperate. It seemed to have an opinion about everything. Sometimes, it even tried to convince her to do things, and once or twice, she had actually felt compelled to what it had to say.

She considered seeing an Alienist, but court was already filled with enough gossip and bad blood against her. The fact she might have head problems would just make her situation more dire. So she had given up to the idea that she had to get used to the pestering little whisper in her head. Sometimes, she successfully drowned it amongst the sea of roaring thoughts. Some others, like today, everything was so quiet that she couldn't help but hear it loud and clear.

Now she hated silent. She couldn't stand it. She felt engulfed by it.

Your place is here, the voice continued, undeterred. You belong here. You are the Queen.