The First Queen (Currently Being Updated)

Chapter 10

It was official. War had begun.

Soldiers were in the training fields while armor and weapons were being forged and cooled. The fire birds were being counted, to be sure that their number was strong enough to fly and do what they did best: burn.

The physician had applied a special herbal mixture that closed my flesh wound completely in a matter of a day. The day after, I was training, practicing my sword wielding and hand to hand combat. As of now, I was in my battle stance, my sword in my right hand and shield in my left. There was no opponent, just the air and my imagination. I swung my weapon, swiping at the imaginary figure of Darien. Letting out a grunt, I pierced his invisible chest.

There was something new in my feelings from him, and others were lost as well. No longer did I feel of reminiscing my former love and memories for him. Now, my bloodlust for him, to make him suffer, to see him beg for my mercy was at a level that I never thought was possible. If you thought me innocent, you are a fool. Innocence is for the weak – if I were still innocent, if I hadn’t learned how to be manipulative and cunning myself, I’d already be dead, buried beside my father, and Alendar would be at the world’s mercy.

After I had made the announcement to declare official war, I retreated to the silence of my chambers, and there, I cried. I cried because I was lost. I cried because I was scared. I cried because I was hurt. Darien was my companion, my best friend. I knew that news would spread of my rule to wherever he laid in exile, but this? This went way too far, and I pained me to know that my brother, whether half or full, tried to kill me. I had done nothing wrong. Besides, what would he even do the Alendar that I had already made new, and better? But, then again, love of all kind is fickle – it fades.

     Suddenly, I felt a presence behind me, and not wanting to be stabbed again, I spun on my heel and held my sword to the throat of Francis.

     “Don’t ever do that again,” I said with a sigh, lowering my weapon.

     “Sorry. I just wanted to be sure that you were well, and judging by how angry you sparred the air, I’m guessing your back,” Francis said, flashing me a smile. This man, I swear.

     “You confuse me very much, King Francis,” I said aloud.

     “Wha-what? How do I confuse you, Queen Eleanor. Please, enlighten me.”

     “First things first, we were basically at each other’s throats before my . . . injury . . . and for two whole days you’ve been doting over me, making sure I won’t fall over or something!”

     He flustered a bit, making me grin inside.

     “I have been doing no such thing –“

     “Francis, you’ve been in the kitchens watching them prepare my meals and you won’t stop looking at me! Wait . . . oh my God,” I said with a look of realization. Did this jerk of a king actually care for me?

     “I care so that you won’t die,” he said with a half-smile, making me blush in embarrassment that I said my thoughts aloud.

     I give him a smug look. “So are you telling me you’re just waiting for the battle to come and then you’ll allow me to die? You really are a romantic, aren’t you?”

     Not waiting for him to respond, I put down my sword and shield and walked out of the in-door training room. Francis was right on my tail, trying to keep up. Who did he bloody think he is? He may be an experienced romancer, but we all know who the experienced ruler is.

     “You have a nice arse, might I add,” he called out from behind. I cursed under my breath for wearing my training gear, which consisted of knee-high boots, leather pants, and a white shirt held by a wide, buckled belt. I started dressing like this since I was about fifteen, so this isn’t a shock to Di or anyone in the palace, unless it is a visiting ambassador. Walking faster, I heard him say, “Francis, you idiot!” in a low tone before trying to catch up with me.

     I’m not as coldhearted as one might think. It’s just that experience and time itself have taught me that any ruler, king or queen, must guard their hearts, and only open up to the closest of kin. Children are those who get hurt most, for they are the most innocent. I remember, before when I was about five years old, always wanting to be close to my mother, oblivious to her hatred towards me. All that I can really remember was a much younger version of myself giggling, running around the gardens close to Katarina’s company with Di trailing close behind me. However, a specific memory of mine with that woman is broken up with parts missing. What I know for a fact is that I was pushed in and locked inside a vacant room in Katarina’s quarters, with feminine giggles and masculine laughs coming from the locked door. It was in the late afternoon, when I usually took my naps, so I fell asleep. Waking up, I was held in my father’s arms, and when I looked up, there was a grim expression on his face. Emotionless – hurt.

     I continued to ignore Francis, passing a few guards and court members that bowed in recognition as we hurried past them. My mind was elsewhere, thoughts lingering from the war to my family to . . . to Francis, that I hadn’t even noticed I missed my left turn and was walking into an unused wing of the palace, making us two shielded from prying eyes. It wasn’t until Francis grabbed my wrist, shooting sparks of warmth inside me, that I realized my mistake

     “That’s not what I meant. And I’m sorry for what I said about . . . about –“

     “About my bloody arse,” I finished for him, making him nod.

     He let go of my wrist softly, and the warmth was gone. I never felt this before, and what I didn’t like about it was that I wanted more.

     I poked him in the chest, glaring up at him.

     “I didn’t have to bring you into this. All this conflict could have been left alone from Torva, and what would you do? A new king who can’t keep his pants up now having to defend an unprepared kingdom from an unexpected enemy. You should be very grateful that I even sent word to you.”

     “Grateful? You put Torva into a family feud, not an international war. Were you unmanned? Did you not have enough weapons in the weaponry? Or was Alendar not strong enough to fend for itself. Or is it because Alendar has a female ruler who is afraid of –“

     Francis was cut short by my hand making fast contact with his cheek, the action making echoes throughout the quiet corridor. I was angry, and tears were wanting to pour out. What is so wrong about me being a woman? We are not less capable than men, it’s just that we have been subordinated by the opposite gender since time began.

     He held his face, giving me a look of disbelief and fury. Giving me a dark look, I got closer to him, whispering to him so softly as if others were around us.

     “Say that again. I dare you.”

     Backing away, a smirk adorned my face before the shuffling of hurried steps were heard approaching.

     “Did you really think all a woman is capable of doing to you is giving you pleasure? Come, King Francis, lighten up. It’s just a slap . . . from me . . . and I’m just a woman. What more could I be capable of other that bearing children and running a household? Oh, that’s right, ruling in my own right as Queen of Alendar, with legions of the finest warriors ready to shed their blood and that of others in order to protect their homes! I am no more nor less your equal –“

     I was about to finish my amazing speech when Lord Cecil came in with a hurry, catching his breath.

     “My Queen, pardon my intrusion, but I have news that you and King Francis want to hear.”

     Francis and I gave each other a glance before letting Cecil speak again.

     “An army of twenty thousand strong have arrived from Fraus, with Queen Veronica leading the way. But,” he continued, mumbling something so quietly that I couldn’t quite hear.

     “Lord Cecil, what else is there to tell,” I asked carefully.

     He looked up hesitantly, as if he what he was about to say was going to cost him his head.

     “The Queen Mother would like an audience with you. Both of your majesties, actually.”

     Now, what would that witch want with me and Francis?