Sunstone: First of the Rueman Hearts

IX

Tudor was quick to help me regain my footing but once he had his hand on my arm there was a clear reluctance to remove it, “don’t think to badly of Deli, Father pressured her to push her will onto the Heart and she’s been dealing with rather a lot of loss and confusion lately. She’s not all bad.”
“I think you’re wrong, there’s something about her that tells me to watch my back; Madam Delwyn doesn’t trust me or want me back in Rueman. Whatever her reasons, she still threatens the Sunstone,” I moved away from the protective Prince, the confines of the ship starting to grate on my nerves as Jamoe and Gesh came over to join us.
“Ay, you two. Goodrin just invited us all to join Ulysseas and herself for dinner down in the mess hall,” Gesh was grinning from ear to ear as he almost jumped out of his shoes in excitement. “I don’t know about you, Keen, but I’m famished.”
“After all that thaumaturgy? Sounds good,” I said as we all made our way down into the galley. Casting defensive thaumaturgy always took a lot more out of me then creative thaumaturgy.
There were roughly nineteen people down below deck sitting at long tables with benches bolted to the floor, and as soon as they spotted me all the laughter and chatter stopped. A lot of prejudice was clearly still projected on the Rashkin’s and the Ruemans weren’t afraid to show how much they hated me for being here.
I tried to ignore the cold looks and whispered jabs as I followed the men over to Ulysseas and Goodrin. “It’ll get better in time, once you show them you’re here to help,” whispered Tudor as he placed a hand on the small of my back and guided me around one of the tables, pointing at a spot on his brother’s bench. “Nice of you to include Bikkea at your table tonight brother,” Tudor circled the table to take a seat opposite me.
“Bikkea..? Oh, you mean Keen. Yes, well, just because Rueman has issues with her doesn’t mean I’m going to be rude too.” Ulysseas had been very nice to me over the past four days and kept telling embarrassing stories about Tudor and himself as kids running a muck in the Alcazar of Ruel.
I smiled as I sat down beside him and Gesh took a seat next to me, grabbing a couple of rolls of bread from the bowl in the middle of the table offering one to me. I started picking at it as the others took their seats opposite us but didn’t end up eating it once I saw it was white as a cloud; Heer Warriors didn’t have bread this white so I knew something unnatural had been done to the grain before cooking.
Goodrin took off her wrist cuffs, slamming them down on the table as she sat beside Tudor facing her husband, “she’s a Rashkin, Sea. Ruemans history is littered with their hunger for power and the blood of innocent people who meant nothing to their benevolent rulers.”
“And the people of Rueman got their revenge for that when they wiped out the Rashkin dynasty. Keen herself claims she has no desire to take up the mantle of her roots so maybe we get to know her as Keen, rather than the last of the Rashkins,” pointed out Ulysseas.
“Alright,” she nodded, agreeing to at least be docile before whipping her green gaze in my direction, “Keen. Care to share anything we don’t already know about you?”
It was unnerving as all eyes at the table turned to me, hoping for something interesting or maybe just something more to mock the Rashkin name with.
Swallowing audibly I reply, “well let’s see… you already know I’m a Mage, a deposed Princess, a Heer Warrior and a trained Widow; I don’t think there’s anything else.”
“Wow, so you have nothing else we don’t know?”
“Oh no I probably have a lot you don’t know but I mean you all know a lot more about me than I do at the moment, so maybe ask me something specific..?” I suggested.
“Hmm,” Gesh gave me a thoughtful look over before asking, “just how extensive are your gifts? I mean you said it wasn’t only the elements you had been gifted with so can you see the future like Delwyn or do any other fun tricks?”
“My artifice abilities consist of wind, water, earth, sun and beast, I was learning about how to cypher the future from both the Widows and the Heer but haven’t had a successful vision yet. Their techniques are distinctively different from each other and vastly different from an Oracle’s or Seers.
“See, Seers and Oracles just have to figure out how to direct their artifice abilities for clear readings into the past or future so it’s easier for them.” I wasn’t willing to share all I knew about my thaumaturgy with the hostile audience at my back, I had to be careful on what I entrusted the Ruemans with.
“And the women you grew up with in Brenaia aren’t born with prophetic abilities?” Asked Ulysseas.
“No, they have many natural-born abilities but time manipulation isn’t one of them. See, Widows use specific star formations to determine less accurate readings of events so it’s almost useless, and the Heer Sisters meld with the trees of the Bleak Boscage and the earth beneath it which shows them what will happen anywhere at any time. But see as long as all the Sisterhood agrees –before they enter into the trance– on the time and place they are looking into then a Conjunction won’t allow them insight into the future.”
“You said ‘Sun’ was one of your gifts. I’ve never heard of it, does that mean you can turn night to day whenever you wish or visa versa?” Goodrin gave me a calculating look like she thought I was driven by pure evil.
“Well I suppose it’s possible, but I’ve only ever used it to help struggling plants get some much needed light. I’m actually hoping I can find some literature on sun thaumaturgy in Ruels’ archives, I’ll need it to undo the corruption Delwyn’s meddling has left inside the Sunstone if it created that obsidian shard.” I cut myself off as a cart with bowls and a cauldron of creamy-looking soup was brought to the table, if I said to much before it was time to share then I might never get near my inheritance before Rueman falls.
Jamoe started dividing out the soup as the rest of the room finally started talking again, seeming to realise I wasn’t going to sink the ship or demand to be the next dictator of Ruel over dinner. The soup was a bit bland but I was grateful for the hot food and moment of quiet while our table started tucking into their meals. The soup also looked like something made of what could be found in the Boscage with possible milk from an animal I hadn’t seen onboard so I braved eating it with the hope my stomach wouldn’t turn on me and my muscles turn soft.
I found it to be cute how Ulysseas and Goodrin bickered over buttering his bread roll and whether it was a good idea when he didn’t have a regular workout onboard, the argument being that he’d put on weight he wouldn’t be able to lose. I had never seen a married couple before but it seemed nice to be a couple as oppose to a vassal, they seemed to understand each other in a way only an individual can know themself; which looked like it took a lot of weight off one’s shoulders as they looked out for each other.
“When did you two marry?” I blurted out, not meaning to speak out.
The pair looked over at me as Goodrin poised her lips, “nine…?” she asked her husband who nodded, “yeah, nine days ago.”
“Seriously? But you act so…”
“Gross?” Supplied Tudor, which got him three sets of glares as I was starting to become irritated with him nosing in on everything, he may have saved my life as a baby but something about his constant efforts to charm me had started to grate on me, maybe it was how he kept holding back about key factors in why my parents had an interest in him or it could just be how easy we had found a rhythm to our discussions.
“I was gonna say familiar. Is marriage really that easy?”
“Easy? No. To be honest we argue all the time and never end up agreeing. Haven’t you ever met a married couple before?” Ulysseas laughed the answer off.
“Well, no. I was raised by two societies where the women don’t need men.”
“Oh, now, that makes sense. My dad always said my mother never seemed to understand how to just let him be the man in their relationship, maybe that was because Fean never learned by example.” Jamoe said as he took a spoonful of soup, a thought occurring to him in his pause, “not meaning to be forward or anything Bikkea, but if Rueman will always need a Rashkin then what’s your plan for… well, you know?” He stumbled as he rolled his hand trying to help me put the pieces together but I wasn’t getting it and tilted my head as I searched for the end of his question. “Children, Bikkea. I’m asking what your plan is for that?”
“Ah. Kids?” I squeaked as it properly occurred to me; I’d have to find a Rueman man to father children with, and then persuade him to respect my upbringing, “I don’t know. I’d never truly planned to go to Rueman at all, so my lineage plans, I suppose, have always been to raise a daughter in the Boscage. I was training to be an Anointed Sister though and they’re not allowed to have children, but the Sisterhood has been known to be lenient in certain situations —like with Fean.
“Does Rueman law require me to keep the father involved? I mean Emrich never married and had plenty of partners…”
Ulysseas gave Tudor a pointed look as I wondered what was going on with those two, looks had been shared in the General’s tent too and on the long boat between the brothers, even over the last few days they had been communicating through looks —maybe it was a ‘sibling’ thing.
Tudor turned his attention back on me and answered my question, “not for you, no, but if the father is royal and wishes to name any children his successor then yes you’d have to of married him before the birth to prove legitimacy. The Ruelian Court is harsh on single mothers so just keep an open perspective… for the future.”
“But why would I want a royal? I don’t want that sort of life –full of responsibilities to the Court rather than the people. I’m going back to restore the Sunstone not to try and wear the stupidest dress imaginable.”
“You know what Keen?” Goodrin announced, “I agree. I’m not some trophy to be twittering through my days, idly–”
“Goody. You’re not getting out of the ball,” cut in Ulysseas, “our marriage still needs the King’s approval to be official. All Father wants anyway is to see if you can play your role properly —just as a formality. Not everyone supports Tudor’s claim yet and that does mean that there’s a real chance you’ll have to be Queen someday. Especially if Tudor follows through with his latest ridiculous plan.”
“What ridiculous plan?” Asked Gesh, turning his eyes on Tudor. It made sense now why Gesh was assigned to me, his loyalties were obviously with Tudor individually and not the royal family as a whole.
“Nothing solid yet, I’m still trying to put the pieces together. When I need your help though Kid, I’ll ask,” Tudor replied diplomatically as though he was addressing a council of Rueman politicians and not curious onlookers.
“Okay, but why does Ulysseas know and I don’t?” Asked Goodrin, “you two haven’t had a single moment alone in the past eight months on board. If Tudor were making plans that threatened his political position, I’d know.”
“We’re brothers, Goody. Some things don’t have to be said out loud, though I do want to take this moment to say: Tudor, I think what you’re planning is idiotic. Why ruin all you’ve been trying to repair with Father and Chambers over this… fixation.” I finish my soup as Ulysseas looks at his brother pointedly before Tudor’s eyes flitted to everyone around the table but me, clearly looking for a hint of recognition on the topic the brothers were discussing.
“Ulysseas, I understand your concern but this has always been more than a fixation. I’ve always known where my life’s story was directed, and always known I’d be the first Emperor of Rueman. That won’t happen unless I push the tenants that have built boundaries in our laws, I understand you disagree and I wish I could give you the assurance you’d need to get off my back, but right now is not the appropriate time to discuss this issue.” It was strongly disconcerting how much weight Tudor was putting on every word, and for once, he was actively avoiding turning his eyes towards me; whatever subtext these two were talking about really must be politically dangerous or maybe even fatalistic to the future of Rueman itself.
“Then when is a good time, huh? I’m disembarking tomorrow and we need to talk this through. This matter is to great a step to rush into.”
“Why? You did,” Tudor huffed and glanced at me checking for something on my face but flicking his eyes away just as quickly.
“My situation is vastly different, and you know it,” Prince Ulyssea’s pointed his spoon at his brother, “you wanted to be Crown Prince and part of that is sacrifice.”
Tudor’s jaw was set as he stared his brother down, but I could feel his knee under the table, Tudor was determined to fight for whatever his brother wanted him to sacrifice. Tudor was the first to break the deadlock though but he clearly wasn’t giving up, “alright Ulysseas, after the shift change tonight. We can talk in my quarters, now drop it okay?”
“Fine, but we will talk. If neither of us ascends then the crown falls to Melvyn, and that we absolutely can’t allow.” Ulysseas cut his hand through the air to emphasise his point, Melvyn must be bad news.
“Why?” I asked, drawing Tudor’s attention as I dolled myself out another bowl of soup, I wasn’t interested in digging into his plan while he was obviously so cagey about it.
“Melvyn is pure evil. Twisted. He insists on eating freshly killed, raw meat every night for dinner and nothing else, not to mention the harem he keeps commonly turning up dead. Melvyn has no interest in bettering Ruemans’ future.” Ulysseas looked disgusted.
“Did I ever meet Melvyn?” Jamoe asked.
“No, he’s only recently joined the Court, but the little weasel will creep you out the moment you see him. If he didn’t look so much like Father I’d contest his lineage,” said Ulysseas.
“Yeah, the little ferret is pure poison to the Frége name,” put in Tudor.