Chapter 7

Aymeri hardly slept through the rest of the night, despite the protection she had. As they lay in her room waiting for sleep to take them, she and Jorlyn spoke a bit about Bréīn and what being an assassin of her brother's kingdom truly meant. Apparently, assassins in their kingdom were held in higher regard than the Royal Guard, only second to the king himself. Drystan didn't need to say it for her to know that he admired and respected his sister. It must have been an honor for him to be able to say his sister was among the ranks of the assassins. Amyeri was grateful that she had the two of them by her side. In the midst of all the secrets, her mother's mysterious death, the return of magick, and the impending war, she wasn't sure she would have been able to handle running Treoles without some kind of support. It had only been days since her mother's passing and she was exhausted. She was sure to miss something important if she wasn't alert.

She quietly got out of bed, careful not to wake the siblings—she was sure they could hear a pin drop in their sleep—heading out onto the balcony attached to her room. The blood red sky was fading into a burst of orange, pink, and purple as the sun began to peak over the trees in the flourishing garden, which was filled with flowers both native and foreign to Treoles. The water flowing from the lotus fountain in the middle of the space glistened as the sun's rays caught it, adding to the serene aura.

Her mind brought her back to when she was a little girl. She and her mother would plant vegetables and flowers all around the garden. Between the vegetables, they would plant herbs to stop the pests from eating the food. The entire perimeter of the garden was surrounded by small, colorful flowers with benches a few paces in front of the flower bed every few feet or so. Sometimes, she and her mother would sit on the benches and eat, or run around, playing games in the garden.

All of that changed when her father passed away. The gardener—whose face was merely a blur in her mind and whose name was long forgotten—would take her under his wing instead, especially when her mother had meetings to attend or would go away to visit the other kingdoms in Dramolux. But her mother always made a point of taking her out to the garden to have tea when she finished with her meetings or the minute she came back from her trips. Most times, she wouldn't even unpack. She would set her luggage down and join her daughter in the garden for tea, biscuits, and fruit, no matter the weather.

Aymeri would give anything to have those days back. She folded her arms on the balcony rail and rested her chin upon them. Closing her eyes, she took in the sounds of the birds waking in the distance and basked in the feel of the warm wind on her cheek and in her hair. The fresh smell of summer always made her happy, but now she only felt grief. Before it settled in and wrecked her, she stood up and turned to go back to her room.

"Can you believe it's been a week since Queen Ismana died?" the deep voice carried on the wind.

She stepped behind one of the columns on her balcony and listened intently to the conversation below her.

"No, but did you hear what the others have been saying?" another deep voice answered.

Though she couldn't recognize who the voices belonged to, she knew they were two males, young enough to not have the raspy voices of a middle-aged men.

"I haven't…" the first one responded.

"They're saying she went insane and killed herself." The voice was closer now. They were right below her balcony. One misstep, and they would hear her. She had to stay as quiet as possible.

"I wouldn't be surprised," the first one responded. "Have you heard her talking to herself at night and wandering around the castle at weird hours?"

Wandering around the castle? Why didn't anyone say anything to me?

"How would I know?" the second one answered. "I am not permitted anywhere but the kitchen and cellar, unless I am sleeping in the servant's quarters, of course."

"You must sneak around every once in a while. We heard her talking in a foreign language, One of the servants claims it was the language of the dead gods."

"The what?"

The man took the words right from Aymeri's thoughts. She had never heard any language except the universal language of Dramolux. Nor did she know of any dead gods .

"Haven't you heard? A long time ago, when the Maudlins first came to rule, the king and queen had magickal powers. Everyone in the world had some kind of magickal power. The legends say the king was a shaman and the queen was a mage. There were so many more lands than just what is here in Dramolux. Legend has it that somewhere down the Maudlin line, the magick was tainted. One of the children couldn't control it. They found a dark spell to rid Dramolux of magick altogether. The forests raged with fires for years on end until only Dramolux remained."

Aymeri wished she could see the two men who were talking. She'd like to slit their throats right where they stood. And for the ones spreading the rumors, she'd like to give them a taste of her dagger as well. All that nonsensical talk about magick. It made her blood boil.

But are they wrong? Isn't magick flowing through my veins right now? Isn't that how I got the dagger? How my hands lit up in flames? Humans can't do that. But magickal beings...

"What are you—"

Aymeri jumped, and immediately pulled Drystan behind the pillar to stop him from finishing that sentence lest the narrow-minded nitwits below her heard him and scrambled. Pressing her hand over his mouth, she cocked her head to the side, motioning him to listen.

"Did you hear something?" the same man asked.

Aymeri shook her head at Drystan and pressed a finger to her lips, then her ear, signaling him to listen.

A few moments of silence passed before the other man spoke. "Must be all that danger and insane talk you're speaking. I didn't hear anything. Now, out with it. What are they saying of the daughter?"

Anxiousness sunk her stomach. Do I want to hear what the men are going to say about mer? Or should I turn away?

Is this what treason sounds like? How would Mother handle this situation? Would she step out and make her presence known?

"They're saying she's been around the mother so often, she may have the same fate. The rumors are thicker and much more interesting about the older sister. Listen to this. Some are saying the older one was murdered because of her magickal abilities."

Aymeri gasped, tears filling her eyes. Gods, do not let that be true. Anything but that! Mother would not have murdered her own blood!

"Wouldn't that be something?" the first man laughed.

Anger raced through her faster than waves crashing at sea in a storm. She wanted to rip his tongue out of his mouth.

"You've been working here longer. What do you think?"

"I think anything is possible. She could've killed the other daughter. For all we know, the queen herself could've been murdered."

Now that was the information that interested Aymeri. Why would he suggest murder when no one else had?

Does he know something I don't? Did he see something? Does he suspect someone?

If others were truly thinking it, then her suspicions were warranted. Drystan and Jorlyn were biased in their emotions since her mother confided her fears to them. What she needed was more substance to her belief.

"Murdered?! By who?!" The second man sounded surprised. It didn't seem to be the type of gossip he engaged in.

"Don't you engage in any kind of gossip, lad, other than the marriages and courtships of the kingdom? Surely, you have heard the curses surrounding this family?"

Curses? My family? What is he insinuating? Surely, if there was some kind of curse placed upon her family, her mother would have been more careful of where she went and who she allowed around her. Balls and dances and dinners would have been limited, not open to any and all.

"I'm not sure I want to get myself killed. Listening to mindless gossip is one thing, but listening to conspiracies is another!"

But I want to hear! Aymeri prayed they'd continue their conversation.

"Oh, come on!" The first man urged the other. "Let me indulge all I've learned to you."

A smile crept across her face. This was the moment she'd been waiting for, a validation of sorts that her mother had been murdered and she wasn't the only one who truly believed it.

"No. I do not want to hear anymore of these conspiracies against the crown. The young princess has lost her mother, her father, and her sister. You all need to focus on helping her instead of spreading lies about her."

"If that's how you truly feel, I'll share my findings with the servants who care." His footsteps began to retreat, the other man followed behind him.

No! Tears pooled in her eyes and anger rose and swam inside her. She had gotten so close. If it wasn't for that innocent attitude the other worker had, the man would have divulged all the secrets he'd heard around the castle.

She listened intently to their retreating footsteps and waited until they were far enough away before she moved from behind the pillar, realizing her hand was still over Drystan's mouth. She immediately dropped it and lowered her eyes to the ground as she quickly turned around and stepped further out onto the balcony. Embarrassment crept up her entire being in the form of crimson-colored cheeks and a blazing hot neck. She gripped the flat rail atop the pink marble columns.

She focused on the men instead of thinking about what she had just done, but even as they silently disappeared from her sight, Aymeri couldn't tell who they were. They wore the same uniforms as the rest of the servants, were similar in height to enough of them, and their heads were covered in a similar fashion—a silk wrap that tied on top. More so, the sun was not high enough to cast even a speckle of light on their bodies to highlight a mere inch of their skin for her to see.

Drystan was close behind her. She could feel the heat from his body radiating onto hers. The way he was leaning ever-so-close to her made her stomach flip and turn with unease. What the feeling was, she wasn't sure, but she felt queasy. She had never been so close to anyone except her mother. She had never touched another person before, outside of her parents, and it felt exhilarating and frightening all at the same time. She had barely known Drystan a day.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her gaze cast to the grassy land beneath the balcony.

"For what?" Drystan asked, confusion written on his face as she looked up at him.

"For touching you without permission. I was so eager to hear what those two men were saying, and you almost gave me away. There were better ways to get you to be quiet. I suppose I could have just ushered you behind the pillar, or signaled you before touching you. I should have thought before I acted."

Drystan smiled and shook his head. "It's really not a big deal," he assured her. "People do it all the time."

Aymeri's eyes widened. She had never seen anyone in the castle touch each other in public, not even the husbands and wives who worked in the kitchen and kept the castle tidy. She said as much to him and was taken aback by his laughter. Anyone else would have thought he was mocking her, but somehow, she knew his laugh was disbelief.

"Have you never played with another child before?"

She took a moment to think about her childhood, but aside from her father's death and everyday duties, it was a blur in her mind. It wasn't that she didn't want to remember. It was just that she couldn't, and the harder she tried, the more distorted the memories became. She remembered feeling her sister's absence, especially when some of the servants would play with their children in the garden. But again, it was an everyday occurrence.

None of them had taken a liking to Aymeri as they were significantly older than her, and many of them went away when they became old enough to start a life of their own. Outside of her mother, Ser Parzival, and the handmaids, she didn't have anyone else to talk to.

Suddenly, though, she wasn't so sure what the truth was. Did her sister really die, or was she murdered, as the man claimed? Either way, she supposed, it didn't make a difference. The pain she felt was still the same. "Growing up an only child is lonely," she noted.

Drystan nodded as if he understood, Perhaps he did. After all, he said he had become a king at such a young age that her mother had to offer him help. "I'm truly sorry about your sister. If she was half the person you are, you both would have been a force to be reckoned with."

Aymeri waved him off. It was useless talking about could and would have been. "Mother barely spoke of her to anyone after I was born. She only told me out of courtesy, since she kept some of her old clothes and asked me not to touch them. And to tell me to never visit the floor we found by accident. What if I fall ill, Drystan? Like my sister? What will become of my kingdom? Did someone leave that staircase open out of spite?"

If her mother was in fact murdered, it made sense that the murderer would try to off her, too.

Drystan nodded, seemingly in understanding, and Aymeri could tell that they would be good friends if he stuck around. She certainly needed a friend after everything that had taken place. "It has been years since that floor was closed off. Perhaps what made your sister fall ill isn't there anymore. And if you do suddenly fall ill, Jorlyn and I are here to care for you. We will get you the help that wasn't available twenty-three or so years ago. I promise. Now, what do you make of the conversation you heard? Do you think the gossiper knows what's happening?"

Aymeri silently thanked the gods for the change of subject. The last thing she wanted to think about was how her mother and sister died, and if she, too, would die like them. All she wanted was answers as to who and why . "I am not sure. No one has said anything about suspecting my mother was… you know. And I haven't heard anyone say such horrible things about my sister!"

"It is a rather peculiar accusation for someone to just say aloud. Do you have an idea of who might've been talking?"

Aymeri cocked her head toward her chambers, suddenly feeling too exposed talking of the matter in the open, even if they were directly outside her room. She couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching or listening. Though, as she looked around, there were no shadows to be seen. Maybe it was nothing. Either way, she didn't want to take the chance of continuing such a conversation in the open.

Once they were secured behind closed, locked doors, curtains were drawn, Aymeri finally spoke again softly so as not to wake Jorlyn, who was still sleeping soundlessly. "I don't know who they are, but I suspect the one who blurted out ‘murder.' That other one likes to gossip, but it seems like he's very new and still fears the wrath of the Royal Guard. For the others, the fear has run out."

Aymeri was ashamed to admit it, but none of the servants held any fear for the Royal Guard. It was almost as if the Royal Guard had been trained for nothing. Especially since her mother only used them for travel, and not to enforce any of the laws regulated by the parchment that had taken the first queen of Treoles almost an entire decade to put together and enforce.

"Do you think you should enforce some of the laws that have been considered outdated by your parents?"

Aymeri shook her head. "Mother and Father did not want to rule with an iron fist and violence. They did not wish to be feared. They ruled this kingdom with kindness and compassion, and I wish to do the same. I do not wish to be feared… nor hated."

But look how far that got them, she thought.

By the way he inclined his head, she could tell he understood her reservations. She was haunted less by his reserved understanding and more by her own thoughts. It was true that she didn't want to be feared, but she also didn't want people to take advantage of her. She knew she had to be wise enough to endure and cope with the conflicts that came with ruling the kingdom. Yet, by the same token, she was still learning. She hadn't been completely trained to run her own country, so what was she supposed to do? Her mother insisted they wait until her coronation at twenty-six, as was tradition in Dramolux.

Twenty-six was considered a wise age; young enough to be youthful and find love, old enough to make decisions only after careful thought and consideration. It was the ripe age of courtship and marriage. During the coronation, it was tradition that royals suitable for marriage be introduced to the princess so she could make her choice. It was unclear if any of it would still take place in her mother's absence.

There were many moving pieces, and Aymeri wasn't sure how they all fit together.

"You know, it's okay to admit you need help. I learned that the hard way when your mother swooped in to rescue me."

The thought was enough to soothe her. Ser Parzival and Jorlyn had said as much to her, too, but there was something about Drystan that comforted her. It was as if he wasn't a stranger but an old friend returning after a long time.

Were we friends during the time I can't remember? She could have asked him, should have asked him, but she knew it was worthless. If they knew each other before, surely he and Jorlyn would have said something to her. Surely they wouldn't have her thinking she didn't know them.

She looked at the floor and sighed. "I feel like I don't know my mother at all, even though I followed in her shadow my whole life."

"Sometimes, it happens that way. Parents think they're helping, but they're really not. They never expect anything to happen to them out of old age, and they forget there are too many possibilities that something might happen." Aymeri could hear the sadness in Drystan's voice as if his father tried to shelter him the same way her mother had sheltered her.

"Did your father do the same? Did he assume he would have time to teach you everything he knew?" For the first time, she felt that she was really connecting with someone. It felt really nice to have a friend. But sadness still filled her voice as she thought about everything she wasn't able to learn from her mother.

Drystan nodded, and Aymeri could see the distant look in his eyes as if he was tormented by the past. She immediately regretted asking and tried to tell him he wasn't obliged to answer her, but he replied anyway.

"I don't want to talk in front of Jorlyn. She resents me for not being honest with myself, but the truth is that I was only trying to protect her."He crossed her room and entered his borrowed one, Aymeri close behind him as she shut the door behind them.

Aymeri looked at him in understanding. It seemed that people did more wrong than right when trying to protect the people they loved.

"When my mother died, my father was completely heartbroken. They had been married thirty-three years, and there was not a day they weren't together since childhood. Without her, he was distraught. He lived a life of silence, submission to all his children, and carelessness with the kingdom. Our brothers took advantage of his state of mind and did everything they could to keep him in it, in spite of everything Jorlyn and I tried to do to get him out of it."

Aymeri's eyes widened at his disclosure. How could family be so cruel to each other? Were all families not as loving as mine had been?

"Theysquandered money on personal handmaids who saw to their every need."

Aymeri's eyes widened. She understood that men and women had needs, and that there were various ways to quench those needs, but to squander inheritance on it while the kingdom needed leadership and support? It was inexcusable behavior. Their siblings needed their support more than anything, and instead, their personal motives were worth more to them.

"They sound like horrible people. I'm sorry they don't have a shred of common sense within them."

Feeling more comfortable in his presence, Aymeri crossed the room, away from the door she'd been standing against, and sat on the arm chair at the desk.

Drystan followed her lead and sat across from her on a long chair. As he did so, his blond hair fell slightly in front of his eyes, making their coffee color shine a shade brighter.

She shook the intimate thoughts away as he spoke again.

"My father saw it but had no strength to do anything. He took to the bottle morning, afternoon, and night, drowning himself in the burning, liquid poison, knowing full well it would catch up with him. In a few months, it did. We found him lifeless one morning, a wide smile spread across his lips. Jorlyn blames the liquor; I blame the broken heart. To live a loveless life is not a life to live at all."

She couldn't help but wonder if he felt the same about someone in particular. He seemed as if he talked out of personal experience.

"Who tugs at your heartstrings the way your mother tugged at your father's?" She hoped to lighten the mood, and felt successful when a small smile formed on Drystan's lips.

"Honestly? No one. Not yet, anyway. Between running Bréīn and being a merchant, there isn't time for finding love, let alone thinking of it."

"Having to turn to mercantilism when you originally had riches and splendor must have been upsetting for you."

Drystan sighed. "And exhausting. It's not what anyone expects from a king, but Queen Dimia has stopped all trade to Bréīn from her allies. Most of our food came from those kingdoms. Without food, my people will die from hunger."

"What about growing your own crops?"

"Too many mouths to feed and not enough rich land. You've never been to Bréīn, so you're unaware of the dense land we live on. We're not one of the island kingdoms. We are too far inland, connected to Treoles on the east and Dimia's kingdoms to the west, north, and south."

Now Aymeri fully understood why Drystan relied on her mother's rations and money to help run his kingdom. They were landlocked. The only way to the ocean was through Treoles or neighboring kingdoms. While they were not an island nation, they did have a coast on the waters, trade routes to other kingdoms, and irrigation. Treoles' rich soil allowed the kingdom to build on its farming and supplies, not to mention the exquisite jewelry and clothing that was exported.

Coin was the only thing that could have allowed Drystan to trade outside of Dramolux—a feat that only Treoles had ever accomplished, and one Aymeri would now make sure Bréīn was able to accomplish as well. It was unfortunate to see how terrible others had it, and she was saddened by the notion that her mother hadn't let her in on the woes the continent was facing. She understood that she wanted to protect her from the cruelties of the world, but at what cost to everyone else?

"I will do everything I can to ensure Bréīn has what it needs. Your people will not suffer at Queen Dimia's hands. If it's a war she wants, it's a war she's going to get. But I cannot run this kingdom alone, Drystan. I simply can't." Seeing what he was going through opened her eyes to what could happen to her and her kingdom if she couldn't find a way to learn everything she needed to know.

Aymeri buried her face in her hands. She didn't know how to handle anything . The finances, her people, the laws… the impending war. Everything was closing in on her, demanding her attention. How could she run the kingdom and find her mother's murderer when there wasn't a single soul she could trust within the castle walls?

For a moment, she allowed herself to cry it out and break down. It was better to do it in front of someone she slightly knew, instead of someone she didn't.

"I told you, you don't have to do it alone."

Drystan's voice was soft and reassuring as he gently squeezed her shoulders. She allowed herself to take the comfort he was offering and wrapped her arms around him, sobs racking her body. At that moment, he didn't seem like a stranger to her. Something about him seemed familiar, almost as if she had known him for ages. His arms were strong and comforting, his breaths even and steady. As she tried to remember if at any point in her life she knew him, her tears began to slow. Memories started to flash before her eyes of children playing, but as soon as they appeared, they were gone as if they were surrounded by a fog.

"I'm here. I will always be here," he assured her.

But will you? she wanted to ask. Or are you just here for what Mother offered you in exchange for your loyalty?

She was hesitant as she pulled away, but immediately shook herself of those negative thoughts. Her mother would not have trusted him so much—nor would she have rushed to his kingdom to help him—if she didn't trust him. She was always careful. Always protective. A warrior queen who fought for her kingdom when she was just a little girl.

How could anyone have murdered Mother, knowing she could have killed anyone who even tried? How was someone able to best her?

Something was terribly wrong, and to get to the bottom of it, she'd made promises. So, Aymeri promised herself that she would, too.

"I shouldn't—couldn't, honestly—ask for you to help me when your own kingdom needs your support."

"Aymeri, I'm not sure if you truly understand how friendship works. Your mother has helped out Bréīn for as long as I can remember, in ways that neither of us can really truly understand. The least I can do for her kindness is to help her broken daughter in the same way she helped this broken prince gain the status, admiration, and respect of a king. If you truly agree with Bréīn hanging a Treoles flag and joining your kingdom by pledging allegiance to you in this war, let this be our first step."

Mixed emotions filled Aymeri's being: hope, happiness, fear, worry…

Whatever came at her, though, she knew a friendship with Drystan and Jorlyn was one ofher wisest decisions.