The Dragon Queen

Chapter 13

Heir Baronetess Makena Rikon of Rivergarde, Morith

Unknown, Anarchy Camp

Standing outside a large tent, deep inside the cave, Makena stands fierce and defiant. Whatever it is that King Wesley wants of her, she will refuse it and leave. She had been surprised that Anna was able to gain audience with the Anarchy benefactor so quickly. She hoped that he would refuse, and they could leave sooner. Anna nudges her shoulder softly, and she looks at her with a numb expression. She has not been able to get Lucius' words out of her mind since he said them, and she suspect she will not ever forget them. "You got this, Makena." She whispers to her with a smile of complete confidence.

Makena nods and tries to return the smile but fails. She faces the tent again and forces her feet to move. Inside, Makena glances around, seeing an ornate table big enough to seat a half dozen, with matching dark ornate chairs. The colors of the cushions match the tent and every other piece of cloth in warm tones of reds, oranges, and browns. Behind the table is another curtain, where she suspects King Wesley's living quarters are for his visits. Movement behind the curtain alerts her to his presence now emerging from it. She is momentarily shocked by how normal he looks. She has met several kings and nobles but none that truly looked at home in common clothes. Wearing a similar attire to what Lucius often wears, his pale eyes stand out to the burnt orange color of his shirt. His face is long and masculine in a kind way, but she suspects that his kind demeanor could change as swift as Lucius'. She does not know why she compares him to Lucius. Perhaps because this man is a father figure to him, someone who mattered in his life.

His gaze lands on her, finally noticing her presence and it brings him up short, just feet from the table, and half the present room's length from her. Something about the way he stared at her, studying her in a way, made her think of her family back home. "Pardon me for staring, Makena, it is just..." His words stall as though he could not believe she is.

"I understand that you are King Wesley Gains of Creedian." Makena's voice is sharp, despite the sudden drop in her body temperature. This is not exactly how she imagined this encounter to go. She never thought he would look at her like that. She had met Felix Andry a few times in her life, and every time she saw him he hid a haunting past in his gaze, without meaning too. He was always wise beyond his years, mostly from seeing things he could never unsee. That is how King Wesley looks now, and she does not know whether to stand her ground or run. "But I will not allow you to be so informal with me. I am Heir Baronetess Makena Rikon of Rivergarde, Morith, and I expect you to treat me as such." She had gotten out of the habit of being formal around others. No one here treated her like the heir of Rivergarde. No one cared about her title, but this king had a title, and she would demand it of him.

"Of course." He shakes his head slightly, seemingly waking up from whatever daze he feels when looking at her. This man is old enough to be her father's older brother it seems, and she is glad there is no look of romantic admiration in his gaze, only one of ill-placed familiarity. "Forgive me. Have a seat, please, Heir Baronetess." He motions to a chair placed halfway on a long edge of the table, as he sits on the opposite side. Makena hesitates but decides it is probably best to do as he requests. "You must be wondering why you are here."

"You mean why you asked your adopted children to kidnap me and keep me from my family for months?" Makena cannot help the defiant tone that escapes her mouth.

"I never intended to..." He leans forward a little on the table with his hands resting palm down on the wooden surface. The empathetic and apologetic look to his face unsettles Makena. He draws in a deep breath and leans back against his chair and stares at her for a long while until Makena speaks out from annoyance.

"Then what did you intend?" She hisses with a well-placed glare that causes him to squirm slightly. "I will tell you here and now, that I will not be some pawn to be used to bring down the realm." She sits straighter and stares him down.