The faint scent of Avelleian salt wafted through the open balcony of the Queen's bedroom. And on that rough yet lulling wind, a ruckus of voices followed close behind. Rousing from her slumber, Queen Erin only heard the chatter, not the conversation. And so, she allowed herself to drift off back to sleep.
"We need to wake her!" A male voice whisper-yelled, jolting the Queen awake.
She was sure she'd drifted back to sleep. Noises below the window drifted into her dreams, and now, noises in front of her door shocked her awake. Her icy blue eyes fluttered open. The first thing she did was look to the sky — the moon high and proud. Daylight wouldn't be for hours. If the servants were chattering outside her door, she knew it was something that must be taken care of, but unimportant enough to wake His Majesty.
"We cannot," one of the knights positioned outside her door replied. "A group of runaway maids isn't important enough to disturb Her Majesty before the light of the sun."
With a deep sigh, she lifted her body and swung her feet off the bed, planting them firmly on the floor. She tugged her silver silk shawl off the nightstand, wrapped it around her shoulders, pushing tufts of bouncing blonde curls from her neck and moved for the door.
"It is not simply a group of runaway maids!" The voice protested. "We have word from Forsyth!"
Excitement jumped from the queen's gut and into her throat, recognizing the familiar voice of James, the new palace butler. She stood by the door, her palm resting around the metal knob as she gathered her thoughts. Then, as the knight opened his mouth to refuse the butler, she turned the knob and opened the door.
"I shall hear what he has to say," she interrupted. "If Mr. Beauxfor has come to me at this time of night, then it must be of great importance." She turned toward Mr. Beauxfor, focusing her facial muscles just enough to conceal her excitement. "We shall move to the tearoom. Do not bother with preparations. I will be going back to my room immediately after."
In the tearoom, Queen Erin sat on the red sofa and Mr. James stood beside the opposite couch. She tried her best not to take advantage of the situation but there was no other time like this where she'd get the opportunity to have a handsome man like him see her in her nightgown.
"You may sit, James." She said, making her eyes cold and distant. She made the offer and meant it, but she knew he would never cross the line into familiarity with her. James was tall, composed, and handsome in a polished sort of way. Erin often listened to the maid's giggle over him the moment he left the room. Their pitchy sounds often irritated her, but she knew that ugly feeling in the pit of her stomach was nothing more than petty jealousy.
Jealousy over what? She wasn't completely sure herself. For women, there was no true freedom in their world. But as she saw it, at least the maids were free to choose who they married. Those girls weren't forced to marry a man twenty years older than them, at the mere age of sixteen. Even though her husband, King Alaric Kingsley of Avelle, didn't touch her until she reached the age of eighteen, Erin always felt like something was missing from her life. Alaric was a good-looking man, and good-natured. He spoiled her and doted on her and as far as she knew, he never took a lover.
But none of that took away the feeling that had boiled inside her since she was just a girl — that something vital was missing from her life.
Just because their marriage was normalized, or because it was their duty, or because she consented to conceive an heir within the boundaries of marriage, didn't mean it was right. But things were different all those years ago. There were so many societal pressures that influenced her decision. And though she did feel affection for Alaric, and she loved her son more than anything in the world, something always felt as if it were missing.
Then, six months ago, when the head butler of over sixty years finally passed, his youngest son, James Beauxfor, took over the role. James was four years younger than the queen and unlike any man she'd met — his chivalry and professionalism matched his good looks.
"I appreciate the sentiment, My Queen," he replied professionally, like always.
Then, there was the usual silence between them.
"You may proceed," she said after letting the silence sit between them. She always searched for a hint of tension in the silence, but his professionalism outmatched her wits. Even if he did feel the same, he would never let her know.
"We received word from the old Forte near the southern border. A group of maids claim they escaped a horror happening in Forsyth Palace and are requesting reinforcements on behalf of Princess Selma of Forsyth. Her ring with the family crest was with one of the maids. They say Prince Ariel is in danger."
The queen's eyes grew wide, adrenaline pumping through her chest. Her son — her only child — in danger?
"But then we received a second notice," he set the note in front of her on the table. "It came soon after the first, from The Star Court by a carrier pigeon," James said, his voice even and calm. "They say the threat has been dealt with, all prince candidates are safe, and our aid is no longer required."
Queen Erin felt her shoulders relax. "If the star court says the threat has been handled then there's nothing we can do. After all, we rule beneath them. Still," her eyes peered down at the note, "it's interesting that the Princess said something. I heard she was an odd girl."
"Rumors can be vicious, your majesty." James replied in that familiar even-tone. "The Princess may have her eccentricities, but she was still raised as a princess."
Queen Erin rested her chin on her hand, gazing at the note. "I met the royals of Forsyth years ago at my wedding to His Majesty. Prince Darrin was just a babe, and Selma wasn't even a thought. After all these years, I still remember what Queen Victoria said to me that night." She paused, trying to remember the day of her wedding. She couldn't recall details, but she remembered the grey wash over the sky and the terrible chill in the wind. And Queen Victoria's words echoed in her mind as she repeated the words aloud. "'A successful marriage is comprised of three things — your husband, your kingdom and your children — in that order.'" Erin's eyes never strayed from the note. They stayed level — steady and thoughtful. "At the time I didn't think much of her advice. I was too busy lamenting over the fact that I was marrying a man nearly twice my age. But now, as a mother, I cannot fathom how a mother could place anything above their children in matters of importance."
A silence fell between the Queen and James. He did not dare comment on the matter, and she did not dare push him to.
After a moment, James quietly spoke up. "Your Highness," he said carefully, his voice very low, "there was a third letter."
"Oh, bloody hell," she rolled her eyes, grumbling. "Perhaps increasing education funding all those years ago was a mistake. Now everyone feels the need to write something at all hours." She crossed her arms over her chest. "Out with it. What does it say?"
"It was sent by the garrison guarding Fort Calle on St. Monte Island," he said, his voice remaining even toned, yet laced with a hint of urgency. "They say the remains of the merchant ship The Golden Gal washed up on shore in pieces."
The Queen's breath caught in her chest.
"They only found the arm of the gold-plated mermaid that usually adorns the bow," James hesitated, holding his breath slightly. "I confirmed the ship was meant to dock here two days ago bringing supplies for the Festival of Light."
"Did they find the ship?" Erin asked through a shaky breath.
James exhaled softly. "No, Your Majesty. The mermaid's arm is all that's left."
The Queen's fingers trembled in her lap. There was no way it was her. It was simply too early in the year, the water still cold.
But I cannot ignore what's right in my face, she thought. I must deal with this now.
"Have the garrison on St. Monte immediately halt preparations for the Trial," she said, her voice wavering as she stood from her seat, moving toward the door. "And send word to the mayor of the northernmost island of Salto del Muerto. They will be holding this year's Trial."
James's eyes flew open wide. "Your majesty, forgive my brazenness, but it's difficult to get ships in and out of that area due to the surf alone. That island is inhospitable at best and the fort there is basically a ruin. I implore you to reconsider."
Queen Erin hesitated near the door. She turned her face back toward James, just enough to meet his eyes. "I can account for the rocks and the waves. I can supply them with medical officers and thick suits to put off hypothermia. I can even station rescue vessels across the island."
She swallowed hard, trying to force her feelings down so that her words would come out. "But I cannot account for her. If I allow the Trial at St. Monte to go on, I might as well sign their death certificates now."
Queen Erin turned her face back, opening the door. "Station soldiers along the Beachwalk, effective immediately. Nobody is to go near the water."
***
Author Note:
Hey Guys!
Quick little update. I had a family thing happen, so I'll be putting off the release date of chapter 1 until Tuesday October 6th. But I will release three chapters at the same time and then continue regular twice weekly updates from there. See you soon!
- Bluejxy <3