The light had slipped from the skies quickly, the night air of Kaskadan much sharper than those of her homeland. The queen had bundled up in the borrowed cloak once more, the hood pulled up to offer coverage as she followed Ember's tall frame through the small village. Torches were lit along porches as they glided past, mere shadows in the night thanks to the cloak that the king had donned.
The cloak of shadows, he had explained, was a magical artifact that had been won in battle a very long time ago. It allowed its wearer to control the shadows around them, and had been how Ember had come and gone through the garden without a trace the night of the attack. Netilaa had to remain close enough to be hidden, and part of her felt exhilarated as she took quick pace behind him as the pair crossed the dirt road in the middle of the village.
When the shadows disintegrated, they were standing before a tavern door, a shabby piece of wood with a handwrought welcome painted upon the outside. Ember only glanced back at her briefly before slipping through the door without a word. Their companions had stayed behind with the horses, awaiting their return with news of shelter for the night.
The village of Adma was only half a days ride from Harigin, though it had been agreed that the companions would stop for the night to discuss strategies privately before completing their journey to the king's castle. Ember had insisted on not letting the queen out of his sight as he had made his way into the heart of the village in search of an old companion who had promised lodging had he ever returned.
The queen noted how empty the tavern seemed, glancing at the few patrons who leaned against the bar drunkenly. Ember guided her to a table in the corner, instructing her to sit and wait as he sidled up to the bar. Netilaa watched as he traded words with the barkeep, and noticed how his head tipped ever so slightly in her direction. The young queen's gaze met briefly with a soft yellow pair of eyes before the barkeep glanced away.
So many secrets seemed to swallow her whole, so many mysteries yet to unravel, and too many covert tasks at play before her. Netilaa understood why her mother and aunt had decided to stay out of the war, because once she had touched it, even briefly, it was equal to a black tar that she could not rid herself of no matter where she seemed to turn. There always seemed to be a risk she was taking-and so much blood on her hands.
"Here ya are, girl."
Netilaa jerked slightly as the woman placed a bowl of food and a goblet of wine before her, reaching into her apron to retrieve a small piece of golden baked bread.
"Compliments of the Court," she smiled before turning and disappearing into the tavern once more. When the queen met Ember's silver gaze, he gave her a small nod, insisting she eat.
Though there seemed to be two more questions for every one inquiry answered, Netilaa had to admit to herself that she had been starving. So the young queen laid her curiosity aside and dug into the sustenance before her, grateful for the wine as she brought the cup to her lips and drank. When she glanced back to her companion at the bar, she was surprised to see the gentle smile Ember wore as he spoke with the woman who had brought her meal.
She looked young, her dark black hair pulled up at her neck. Though she wore a simple dress with her stained apron, Netilaa admired the beauty she had been blessed with. The young queen had no doubt that the fae magic had something to do with it, and when the woman returned the king's smile wholeheartedly, something inside of Netilaa burned.
Envy nested inside of her chest, if only for the fact that Netilaa knew she would never be destined for such things as love. While her carnal dance with the King of Plenty brought her a thrill she had never experienced, the queen understood what her fate would be. A future romance more than their current affair would never be the outcome for her. While she would die to protect the people who needed it, Ember of Plenty included, part of her felt jealous that it would never be her that the king would spend eternity looking upon in those ways.
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Queen Of Nothing
Fantasi"A warrior with nothing left to lose is a precarious threat to those with kingdoms left to crumble." The last of her kind, newly crowned Queen Netilaa finds herself plummeted into unforeseen adventure after watching her people die brutally at the ha...
