C H A P T E R F I V E
You're just gonna end up fucking up your reign like the last Queen.
Don't fuck up, Nola.
You're too inexperienced to learn the ways of the clans.
Show your Houses you are stronger than what you seem.
Always listen to your seer, strong decision making him your adviser.
I may have underestimated you.
You can trust Weatherby.
Nola shouted in her slumber and Garfield barged through her chamber doors. She shot up out of bed and rubbed her eyes. "What are you doing?" she groggily asked.
"You screamed," he answered. "I thought maybe someone'd come through the floor."
She sat up. "Are you my watch dog now?"
He shrugged. "Enoch put me on night's watch of your chambers."
"I've never needed a guard and because I'm Queen I suddenly need one?"
Garfield stood there uncomfortably, "Your Grace - "
"Oh, you too now?" she folded her arms. "You never thought there could be the possibility of me becoming reigned Queen while you were fucking me did you?"
His eyes widened. "I should get back to my post."
She yanked on his arm and slammed the door shut. "No, you can act like an idiot all you want, Gar. But you fucked a Queen, and now you're not only afraid if Enoch found out, but you're afraid of what I can do about it."
He swallowed a lump in his throat and opened the door. "You should see Bunker about your nightmares, your Grace."
She looked up at him, but she didn't see the Garfield she knew; she saw a tamed, little boy who was afraid to say what was really on his mind. She scowled and walked out into the corridor and down to the Strategist Wing, also known as the Non-Warrior Wing.
Through out the night, people are still roaming about the corridors of the Shad'Tuns. Most of the Shadow Lands warriors live amongst the villages in the land' the Shad'Tuns is specifically for the Commander and his family, his guards, advisers, and to train new warriors, aging from nine to eighteen years of age.
Nola was still not used to receive exaggerated bows; she still expected nods of acknowledgement of her presence.
When she entered their chambers, she wasn't at all surprised to find them all awake, strategizing. Hoover was speaking to Ace in Sondiv, a language Nola had yet to master. Bunker was lying down on the table in the middle of the room, in the midst of a vision.
"Your Grace," Ace stood up straighter and bowed.
"Ai kwin," Hoover bowed as well. Because he had Ace as his translator, Nola had never seen him for he was always cooped up in the Strategist Wing, organizing battle strategies, taking care of Bunker when his visions got a bit out of hand which resulted in a seizure. Hoover was also an experienced healer.
Bunker sat up and his hand rushed to his head in pain. "Nola," he said wearily.
"Chit ste em?" I asked him.
