Queen Of Nothing 6 Chapter 6: Drake

I ran my fingers through my hair. Why hadn't she used her magic against us yet? Did she feel it was pointless? Perhaps she weighed her skill against what she gathered of our combat abilities. While we are a small force it would have ultimately been one against a hundred elite soldiers. But she could have killed our king easily when first brought before him. Though I would have cut her down, there would have been no point in us remaining in Morea once our king was dead. But perhaps Althea would have officially declared war. Our king's half brother would have been crowned, he would have declared war. Was the princess aware of all this? Judging by the sheer number of books in her salon it was clear that she was no simpleton. She was well read, and obviously knowledgeable about the world around her.

It wasn't fear that kept her from acting. She was fearless in every way. Never before had anyone spoken to my king in such a foul manner. Not even his enemies would dare to spit at him as she did. In fact, my knees nearly buckled when she did. I thought for sure that my king would have killed her on the spot but he found her apparent distaste for him delightful.

That was something we had in common. I sighed. She had me so intrigued. I found everything she did fascinating. She was so much more than her beauty. I shook my head, I should not be thinking of her as a beauty. I should not be thinking of her at all. She was beyond me, a queen in her own right, even if her kingdom was fractured. And I was a b.a.s.t.a.r.d who's skill with a sword allowed him to raise through the ranks, where another b.a.s.t.a.r.d who'd stolen a crown took pity on me. Not to mention that the whole of this country would hate me for what had happened here in the crown city. There was no coming back from what we had done. We would either stay as conquers, flee like cowards, or die in the streets.

Perhaps we should die, it wouldn't be unjust for the citizens of Morea, or even the princess or G.o.ds, to strike us down. War was a dirty business, it always had been, streets running red, widows crying, children orphaned. And while necessary in some cases, it was never just. Killing a man just for doing his job, defending his home, and protecting his king was never right but it never stopped me from cutting down any solider or knight who stepped before me on the field. Never did I stop to consider if he had a wife, or children, or if he even had a choice of whether or not he fought. I had no choice when I first enlisted. It was the only way my father would allow me to be his son, I had to earn my place in house Ramneal, and I did so without fail. For me it was either to fight for my king or to starve in the streets. Did some of the men I killed have a similar ultimatum given to them?

And what of the young man who I killed simply for stepping before his king just a night ago? I'll never forget his eyes, nearly a glow with courage and determination like I had never seen before. He stood alone before me and my king, and did not back down even when offered his life. A young Amerthine Lord I believe, nephew by marriage to the king, and cousin to the princess. He had the same hair color as her, the darkest raven. And now thinking on it, he and the princess shared similar personality traits as well.

I sighed heavily sinking deeper into my chair. My own hands had killed the princess' father and cousin, and captured her brother. Yet I dared to think of her as a woman. I was despicable. I closed my eyes, ma.s.saging my temple with two fingers, until I finally drifted to sleep.

I woke to the sweetest voice calling my name. "Sir Ramneal... Drake..."

I slowly blinked open my eyes and found the princess standing before me, looking absolutely stunning in a teal silk dress that was free of the typical Morean hoops and hung loosely around her shapely body. It must have come from Tanberun because the more sensual look was the style there, n.o.bles seeing how much skin they could show before it was indecent. And though she was covered all expect her shoulders which were bare, with her raven curls piled atop her head she looked like a vision of a G.o.ddess. "Yes?"

"I'd like to go to the prayer garden, I need to plead for the souls of my lost family."

I stood up, grabbing my sword so that I could strap it to my belt. I then nodded at her and she opened the door to her salon leading me through the royal living quarters to a private, stoned in garden just a few doors down from hers. She lead me down the stone stairs that lined the stone walls and then went to the gazebo and knelt down before the stone alter bowing her head and closing her eyes. There she remained completely motionless and silent for over thirty minutes. Not wanting to disturb her I decided to look around the garden. It was simple and elegant with climbing vines and a fountain. Three tall trees shaded the area and roses grew from bushes. It was a serene garden and ideal for prayer to the Seven.

After another ten or so minutes she finally stood and stepped down the to the top of the gazebo steps. She stood looking at me, the setting sun s.h.i.+ning on her giving her the most angelic glow. The light played against her raven hair giving it a reddish sheen, and bounced off of her shoulders like it would on a fresh mornings snow. She seemed to sparkle and it made my heart beat rapidly against my chest. I had never seen anything more beautiful than the woman standing before me. Nor anything more sad. But the sorrow only seemed to somehow make her all the more enchanting and I knew, in the moment that her eyes met mine and she smiled softly, that I was a dead man.