Chapter 3:
On the scheduled departure day, Kathryn endured the lengthy preparations before being deemed presentable enough to embark. The traveling party would consist of Ren, Kathryn, Dena, and a few guards. Navinor didn’t want more than 20 armed men crossing the border. Ren disliked the arrangement, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.
As Ren waited outside Kathryn’s room to allow Dena to make the final adjustments to the princess’s outfit, he tried not to think about how dangerous the journey ahead might be. After all, Kathhryn was a mage, and he had enough strength to fight half a dozen men without too much difficulty.
I can protect her.
The light tap of footsteps against the gray stones of the hall floor startled him out of his thoughts.
When he turned, it was Lenore who stood there, her eyes red and swollen from crying. She said petulantly, “I hope you’re satisfied, General Ren. I heard it was you who cast the deciding vote.”
Ren bit his lip and took a deep breath to try to hide his irritation. “You heard right,” he said briefly.
“I don’t know why they let you choose. You don’t even deserve to be one of the generals. It’s not as though you fought in the war,” Lenore hissed. “It was supposed to be me; I was going to get married and finally be useful! But just because you’re her pet, I’m going to be left behind again!”
“Stop it, Lenore,” Ren said sharply. “You have no idea what you’re talking about!” If she knew the truth-
Lenore slapped him across the face.
Ren’s patience snapped. He grabbed her wrist before she could hit him again, squeezing harder than he intended. “I could have you arrested!” she screeched, struggling. “Don’t you touch me! I’m a princess, and you’re nothing but a fake.”
Ren let her go, the heat rising in his face. “That’s right, Princess Lenore. You’re a princess. So why don’t you act like one?” he snapped.
Tears spilled down the girl’s round face. “You don’t have any right to talk to me like that, General Ren.”
“Maybe not. But someone has to, or you’ll keep ruining things for yourself and everyone around you.” Ren folded his arms and leaned back against the wall to continue waiting for Kathryn as Lenore ran off to tell her woes to someone else. He muttered under his breath, “Don’t you think I’d stop her if I could?”
At the same time, Illian held a private meeting with a man who was well known in the palace: Dorian Patrick, who just happened to be Ren’s older brother. As one of the foremost wardens in the kingdom and the only one to have practiced all six types of opal magic, Dorian was known to be a genius in everything Ren was not. While Ren’s talents were exclusively of the physical nature, Dorian was a painfully thin, gaunt figure who looked much older than his twenty-seven years, and he had a cynical, intelligent look in his eyes even when he smiled.
Today, he was not smiling, which made him look even more unpleasant than usual. He sat across from the prince, who tapped his fingers nervously on the massive oak table. Illian said, “It’s a shame even you were unable to convince Father. I thought he would listen to you.”
“My talents lie in agriculture and international policy, my lord; not family relations,” Dorian said dryly.
“That much is plain. Aren’t you going to see your brother off?” Illian questioned, cocking his head.
“I don’t think so, my lord. He would hardly be interested in seeing me, and I have no desire to speak to someone whose brain is entirely made up of muscle.” Dorian rifled through the papers in front of him with his long, bony fingers and shook his head. “I must say, the oaf’s dedication to Princess Kathryn borders on obsessive infatuation. If he were to catch wind of what awaits her in Navinor, I hate to think what danger that might present for your plans, your highness.”
Illian didn’t think much of Dorian. But he needed the man, so he only said pleasantly, “And that is why he will never know.” He began to absently trace the vine-like carvings along the edge of the table with his finger. “He is a liability at the moment, but one that is soon to be permanently removed.”
Dorian smirked. “You have been preparing this longer than I realized, your highness. Remind me to remain in your favor.”
“I’m sure that is in both our best interests,” Illian said quietly. He glanced out the window at the waiting carriage and watched as Kathryn and Ren came down the rose-lined walkway towards it. “Anyway, your chance to say farewell has passed.”
And mine as well.
The King came out to see Kathryn off, but he had to be supported by an aide. His health had been worsening since long before the dance.
She thought he might embrace her. After all, their separation might last for years. Or she might never return. But the king only stood in front of her with a grim face and said, “It would have been better for Princess Lenore to go. But if you are determined, then you must do well. You must ensure that you gain power in Navinor at all costs.” He kept his voice so low that only she could hear.
Kathryn curtseyed, keeping her head bowed for several seconds before raising it, though her chest tightened strangely. “Yes, my lord,” was all she said.
She glanced around, and he saw her gaze. “Princess Lenore is in her room. She was not feeling well,” he said.
Kathryn winced, but only said, “I see.”
Ren lifted her into the carriage first and helped Dena up before mounting his horse. He would ride along beside them to look for threats and keep them safe, as he always did .
Kathryn waved out the window as the carriage jolted and started on its way, but her hand froze. Her father was already halfway up the cobblestone path to the palace with his back turned to her.
After the carriage left the city limits, Dena remarked, “It’s a shame Princess Lenore didn’t come to see you off, my lady.”
“Not really.” Kathryn’s tone was cold. “She only would have made a fuss.”
“You’re too kind to her, don’t you think, Princess?” Dena pouted. “I think at least she could have thanked you after what you did!”
“Thanked me?” Kathryn gave a short laugh. “Not likely.” Dena didn’t seem to know what else to say, and Kathryn went silent, maintaining perfect composure to all outward appearances. But as the tedious journey dragged on with each turn of the carriage wheels, her restlessness grew and she began tapping on the seat as she stared out the window at the passing trees. The silence was unbearable, and it gave her far too much time to think, but there didn’t seem to be anything to say.
Five hours later when the princess’s behind was sore from sitting on the carriage seat and her head began to hurt from the stuffy air, the carriage finally stopped. Ren opened the door, and Kathryn couldn’t hide her relief at the sight of him. “Your highness, did you want to ride up in the box for a while?” he asked.
“No, but I think I’ll ride my horse for a bit.” Kathryn let him help her down, and she wobbled a bit when she reached the ground. Ren steadied her and helped her mount the beautiful white gelding her father had gifted her while Illian was away at war.
“Let’s ride,” Kathryn said with a flash of a smile.
Ren grinned, gripped his horse’s reins, and dug his heels into its sides. “Hyah!” they both shouted in one voice. The beautiful animals leapt forward away from the carriage and were out of sight before the guards had a second to react.
“This is more like it!” Ren called over the sound of the wind rushing past. He smiled from ear to ear.
Kathryn had to agree. As she reached up to let her long red hair tumble down, she finally permitted the melancholy welling up within her to emerge in the form of a few tears. It wouldn’t hurt anything to cry a little now. And the beautiful woods and trees and rivers she loved so much deserved those tears.
They galloped until their horses tired, and then they slowed to a walk, maintaining a companionable silence. There was no point in worrying about what was ahead, Kathryn decided. For this moment, she just wanted to enjoy time with her dearest friend.
A sharp smell reached her, pulling her out of that moment of enjoyment. Charred wood.
They passed the trees and found themselves in a burned-out clearing. Kathryn pulled up her horse sharply, looking at the blackened stumps.
Ren glanced over at her. She said, “They torched it all. Every last bit of the villages and land through this corridor. Then they came and torched it all again.”
“Do you think Navinor looks like this?” Ren muttered.
“Not likely. Their armies were destroyed within our borders. We rarely crossed theirs. Which means their land, their people, never suffered as we did.” Her stomach churned at the thought, and she pulled her horse around. “We should rejoin the others. Bandits have taken to roaming through here to steal what little is left.”
“I could handle them,” Ren pointed out.
“Better save your strength. There’s no telling what kinds of problems we could run into-”
She stopped short. A rough-looking man with a rusty old sword stood in front of them, seemingly having come out of nowhere. He was painfully thin and dirty, and his eyes looked hollow. He rasped, “Looks like it’s my lucky day. I don’t see any guards around. Give up any jewels you’ve got, girl!”
Ren’s hand dropped to his sword hilt, but he didn’t draw it. He said pleasantly, “I think you would be wiser to be on your way, old man. You’re no match for me.”
“You think I’m scared to die?” the man snarled.
“Do you live around here?” Kathryn put a hand on Ren’s, stopping him from drawing the sword as she spoke. The man didn’t even have shoes. His feet were torn and bloody, as though he had walked a long way. And his desperation was obvious. Her heart went out to him.
“What’s it to you, girl?” the man retorted. “Just give me your money!” He pointed the sword at her, and Ren interposed himself between them.
Kathryn saw how the man’s hand shook. She touched Ren’s arm again. “He’s not much of a threat,” she said softly.
Ren hesitated, then sighed. “Princess, I’m going to disarm him now. I won’t hurt him.”
“Ha! You think you can hurt me when you haven’t even pulled out your sword?” The man lunged, but Ren easily knocked his arm aside with one hand. As he staggered forward, Ren elbowed him in the face, sending him crashing back into the dust.
Ren picked up the rusty sword and tossed it some distance away. “Do you want him arrested, princess?” he asked. “I can bring him back to the men and-”
“No.” Kathyrn stared at the man, who had buried his face in his hands. His shoulders shook with harsh, broken sobs.
He wept, “You nobles; you’ve got all the money in the world. You’ve got everything! What do you think we’ve got?” The words struck her with guilt, even though she knew it wasn’t entirely true. A palace could hide a great deal of hunger and want.
Kathryn bent down, took his dirty hand in her white glove, and placed four silver coins in it. “Not much, I imagine,” she said quietly. As much as she wished she could give him something better, she knew it would only make him a target for similar desperate people or even soldiers still patrolling or on their way home after a long and painful absence. There were far too many people just like him. A few coins would never change that; something more radical was required, and it had to start with peace.
“I don’t want your money! I don’t want charity!” the man howled in rage.
Ren grabbed him by the front of his ragged old shirt. “Listen here,” the young warrior said, his face contorted with anger. “If you’re lowering yourself enough to steal from others, then taking a gift should be much easier. You’re getting some mercy today. I suggest you accept it.”
The man quieted as he stared into Ren’s intense, angry blue eyes. Then he said, “I…I…suppose…”
Ren released him and turned away, biting his lip in frustration. Kathryn put a hand on his arm and they left together.
As they rode back towards the rest of the group, Kathryn’s lips began to tremble. Ren’s manner softened at once. “I shouldn’t have treated him like that,” he muttered. “I know he was just desperate.”
“After everything I did to try to make sure they wouldn’t go hungry, there are still so many people like him,” Kathryn whispered.
“They’ll heal, Kat. We all will, now that the war’s finally over.”
“All I want is to burn Navinor to the ground.” Kathryn’s face grew hot and her whole body trembled.
Ren looked at her, then at the ground. He bent down and pulled up a dandelion. As he held it out to her, he said with a smile, “It’ll all grow back, Kat. see? It’s already started.”
She was silent for a moment as she took it from his hand. At times, his naivete was the only thing that kept her sane. As long as he still believed the world could recover, there was some hope left. There had to be. She said, “You’re right.”
Ren grinned widely. “Of course I am.”
__________________________________________
Eight days later, the pennants of Navinor began to appear through the trees. A towering marble castle gradually took shape, casting a long shadow in the evening light. Kathryn looked up at it from the window of the carriage with an unreadable face. Ren glanced over at her worriedly. This was the stronghold of her enemy. This was where thousands of troops had gathered before crossing the border to raze Iridalys’ villages and forests to the ground. It couldn’t be easy for her to come here.
For his part, Ren couldn’t hide his amazement at the sight of a palace that towered above any castle he’d seen in his life. Spires made of the hardened sapphire magic the Navinorians called Azura rose into the sky, letting off a bright blue glow. On the castle battlements, even the lowest guard wore chain mail and held a high-quality spear. Here and there, the famed “Viper” assassins stood shrouded in dark hoods, with their well-known poison daggers formed of Azura visible at their belts. Ren unconsciously put his hand on the hilt of his sword.
Then he saw the Navinorian second prince, Kathryn’s future husband, and his confusion instantly turned to annoyance. Prince Lorrin was about his same age, but unlike Iridalys royalty, he had short-cropped hair and wore few jewels. Though there was plenty of silver, which was one of the top trade items in Navinor, next to sapphires. Ren didn’t think he looked particularly handsome, which was a relief.
Still, the prince was impressive. He carried himself, not with the grace Ren was used to seeing in Illian and Kathryn, but with a cold, arrogant aloofness. He had two swords, and his well-muscled frame seemed to say he knew how to use them. He also had a burn scar over his left eye, no doubt a remnant from the war.
The carriage came to a halt and Ren opened the door and held out his hand. Kathryn took it and stepped down, looking rather rumpled after hours in the carriage, but still beautiful and graceful in his eyes.
She approached the arrogant prince and curtseyed. “I am at your service, my lord,” she said. Ren’s fist clenched involuntarily at his side.
The prince said, “No need to make a fool of yourself, your highness.”
The blood rushed to Ren’s face. But Kathryn stood tall and looked the prince in the eyes. “Then I won’t, your highness,” she said evenly. “I wish to be escorted to my chambers.”
The prince gestured dismissively at a guard who stood nearby. “Take her and her handmaiden there.”
He paused and turned to Ren. “And this is your bodyguard, I suppose?”
“Yes, this is General Ren Patrick,” Kathryn replied. Ren bowed without a word.
“I see. Normally even a bodyguard here will attempt to look presentable. But I suppose it’s quite different in your kingdom, princess Kathryn,” the prince said wryly. Ren hated that condescending look on his face with all his heart.
The prince studied Kathryn. “You’re quite beautiful, as they said,” he observed.
Her lip curled slightly, the only visible sign of disgust Ren could discern. “Thank you, your highness. I am also quite exhausted. May I retire?” she said coldly.
“Are you angry because I criticized your guard?” Lorrin smirked. “Accept my apologies, your highness. I didn’t know you were so attached.”
Kathryn’s green eyes narrowed. “Your whole demeanor is quite offensive. May I remind you that I am here to solidify a treaty between our peoples, not to be insulted.”
“Forgive him, my lady.” The new voice was deep, rich, and authoritative. Turning, Kathryn saw the first prince of Navinor standing there.
His bearing reminded Ren of Illian: there was a peculiar grace to his movements. But other than that, he could not have looked more different. While Illian’s face was deceptively soft, this prince’s face was thin and austere. The tips of his dark hair were white, evidence of an overuse of sapphire magic. His soulless black eyes and strangely pale skin made Ren feel he was looking at a walking corpse. But there was something behind those eyes that was even more frightening, although Ren couldn’t have said exactly what it was.
Kathryn stiffened at the sight of him, and her curtsy was almost wary. “My lord,” she said.
“You know who I am?” the prince asked in surprise.
“Yes, my lord. You are Prince Gregory, the Death Mage of the battlefield. I have seen paintings of you and have heard you described many times,” she said. Ren’s whole body screamed at him to grab her, to run, and to never come back. But he kept his eyes on her, waiting for some signal that would tell him what she wanted him to do. She didn’t move or glance at him.
“I see. Welcome to your new home, your highness. If there is anything I can do to make you feel more comfortable, please keep me informed.” His smile was gracious, yet it made Ren’s skin crawl. “In the meantime, I beg you to please retire to your chambers and rest. I shall have your bodyguard brought to his quarters as well. There will be a welcoming event tonight at the palace; I would have preferred to wait until you had more time to rest, but the king insisted. It’s essential that we get things in order so we may solidify the treaty as quickly as possible,” Gregory explained. “Until then, rest well, your highness.”
Loyalty Fallen Hub 