Wyvern Tails and Phoenix Feathers

The Dance of Subterfuge, Chapter 1 - Annette

The silhouette of Port Shorishal cut an imposing shape into a brilliant sky of fluffy clouds. The city stood on its towering cliffside, a majestic haven from the elements and hostile forces of Einalia. Long had Princess Annette taken comfort in the safety and luxury of her tower bedroom. But now she sat at the threshold of a sweeping meadow outside the village. With her mother Lin and her friend Tomis at her side, she understood now that true comfort rested in companionship. Port Shorishal was just an assembly of rocks.

Reconnecting with her mother was not something Annette had ever assumed possible. She felt healed and nourished in her company, gifted with time after so much had been lost. Yet, her mother was not the same woman she remembered as a child. She was tired, easily confused, and often with a glazed look in her eyes. She hadn't elaborated on the revelation that Horus Morningshire was her half-brother, even when Annette pried. At times, even simple questions confounded the traumatized woman.

Annette didn't have the heart to tell her of Horus's demise. But she didn't mourn her estranged sibling either. In truth, it was a relief to know another contender for the crown of Iron Fen, especially one as volatile as Horus, was no longer a threat.

Shortly, she was riding up through the village towards the main gates of the city, catching the eyes of curious peasants delighted to steal a glimpse of their princess. But the main gates were closed and garrisoned by a unit of mounted guardsmen. A symptom of the war, Annette supposed, a caution against the cultists that infiltrated Iron Fen's borders. Her theories were muddied with the inclusion of Magister Toras, who sat on his steed looking like an overstuffed toad among the otherwise intimidating guards.

"The Princess approaches," announced one.

They bowed their heads at Annette's arrival; all except for Magister Toras, who chose to greet her as an equal. It was an intentional slight. Annette slowed her horse to a stop.

"Princess Annette, it gladdens my heart that you have returned to Port Shorishal well and unharmed," said Toras. "I trust my Tomis kept you safe on your journey."

Annette shuddered. Everything about Toras's tone made her skin crawl. And Tomis would not be his for much longer; she would make certain of that.

"Twas not the journey, but the destination, Magister Toras," she replied pointedly.

"Oh? Was the good Doctor Howe not to your liking?" he asked. His lips curled at the corners into a knowing smile.

Annette chose her response carefully. She could not be sure of how much Magister Toras was informed. Did he know Doctor Howe was dead by her hand? Did he know the women of The Manada Towers were free from Howe's control? She had left the women behind and promised to keep them safe. She couldn't let a man like Toras take an interest in their well-being.

"I have much to discuss with The King regarding the current condition of the Manada Towers," she said. "I thank you for the assistance of your Tomis Dane, but I must make haste."

Magister Toras and his men gave no indication that they would move out of her way.

"The king is regretfully not well."

He spoke without an attempt to manufacture grief. Annette, meanwhile, felt a sharp pang of worry. At his age, any health issue could be The King's last.

"Then I must be at his side," she implored.

"In time, your grace," said Toras. "The King is in a weakened state. Until he heals, he has named me as regent."

Annette narrowed her eyes. So that was his game. That's why he didn't bow.

"Forgive me Magister Toras, but I fail to understand. You have no place in the line of succession. Surely The King would have appointed me or the Lady of Charn."