Dragonoak: Gall and Wormwood, page 29
Pausing, she raked her fingers through her hair in frustration.
“What I am trying to say is that tomorrow may feel impossible, but that is because too much has already been asked of us today. Yet when tomorrow comes, we will settle into it, and bit by bit, we will find ourselves acclimatising to the idea of tomorrow,” Claire said, leaning back in her seat. “You have come to the castle – and indeed, into my life – at a hectic time. Do not think it will always be like this. Two months. All we have to do is last another two months, and we can handle the problem head-on. After that, things will simmer and slow. A year for now, I will understand what it means to be Queen, how to balance all aspects of my life, and our greatest task will be rehousing those still in need…”
“Sometimes,” I began, uncertain whether I should smile or cry because of her words. “Sometimes I think about this all being over, and it’s not a nice thought, because… I can’t think of what things would be like without all of this. I can’t imagine a world where we’re just allowed to be together, together and happy, without…”
Trailing off, I held out my hands, gesturing to the castle beyond. To the world beyond that.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I said. I’m sorry for losing my temper, and I’m sorry for being so cruel.”
“I know you are,” Claire said. “You don’t have a bad bone in your body.”
“Sometimes I think it’d be better if you and Eden could—”
“You’re starting to sound like my mother,” Claire said, cutting me off before I could finish the thought. “Eden and I are in the past. Surely you know this.”
I nodded shallowly and said, “I do. But it’s not fair. You loved each other! You loved each other so much, you were going to get married, and you had a life together. All the things that happened, everything that got in the way. I wished it hadn’t.”
“I love Eden. Of course I do. She is my family, and one of the few I truly trust. You must not think of what happened between us as nothing but sadness; we had many wonderful years together, and we can look back fondly on those times. We still have one another,” Claire explained softly. “I had a life with Eden, that much is true. I can have a life with her in a new way, different but equally as important. I can have a life with you as well, Rowan.”
My shoulders shook, but no tears came.
I believed her and it terrified me. For once, I didn’t want to run from the fear.
With nothing more to say, I looked at her and she looked and me, and though things still did not feel right, I knew that they would be, eventually. She had given me long minutes of her time and I knew people were pulling her in all directions; still, she sat there, not saying anything, content to be with me.
When a knock at the door told us we couldn’t afford to waste any more time, Claire got to her feet with the help of her cane and placed a hand on my face as she passed me.
“Remember: worse, before it gets better,” she said firmly.
I put my hand on the back of hers, fingertips curling around her palm. I didn’t get the chance to squeeze her hand before she was gone, doing a poor job of hiding how badly she was limping.
And so it was for the week leading to her coronation. If I wanted to see her, it was always in a crowded room, and there was always someone arguing against her propositions. Not to mention those openly staring at me. I could've visited her in her chambers of a night, now that the guards were no longer under Queen Aren's thumb, but something still didn't feel right between us.
It was not an open, gaping wound. Not exactly. I understood that things would feel as they always had, once we had time to be together, and that now wasn't the time to put more pressure on Claire, but it didn't make it hurt any less. I smiled at her across the room, shared brief words with her in the corridors, and spent most of my time with Eden, Haru-Taiki, and Oak.
The others were too involved in political matters to have time to do anything but prepare for the coronation, and Akela was losing sleep to make something of the tattered remains of the army Rylan hadn't taken. To me, it looked as though there was no end to the soldiers at our disposal, but Akela assured me there weren't enough to form the basis of a halfway respectable strategy.
Eden and I spent countless hours teaching Haru-Taiki more Mesomium and learning handfuls of his signs at a time. She didn’t say it out loud, but I knew Eden felt as useless as I did. Claire, Akela, Kidira and Kouris all had their roles to fulfil, and even Sen understood her place in the castle, but there was little more for us to do than wait.
Beyond the forest, Eden continued to read stories to Oak. I half-heartedly pretended that they weren't for me, as well. Once, we stayed out far too late, and the summer night was so thick with heat that we had no desire to drag ourselves back to the castle.
We laid against Oak's side and stared up at the cloudless night sky, each making our own constellations of the stars. I told her about the shapes Reis had mapped out for me in the Canthian sky, and while she did not quite see them all, she said she should very much like to meet someone with such a vivid imagination.
Had Eden not said something more, we would've fallen asleep there and then.
When she spoke, it was as though out of nowhere, but I knew it must've been on her mind for days. Weeks, even.
“Claire is not happy with you,” she said, voice soft. “Because she is not happy. And it is not fair on either of you, because the world is—oh, she is not happy with you, but I see the way she looks at you, Rowan. I know how miserable she would be without you. And it may be selfish of me to say so, because I understand that you have been through so very much since you met her, but I am glad she has you. Once this is over, once this nonsense with Rylan and the dragons and Agados is behind us, I know there will be happiness in abundance for you both. Because you deserve nothing less, and I want nothing more.”
I turned from the sky to look at her, and her eyes were as bright as the stars above. I took her hand, grateful for the reminder that as much as I loved Claire, this was the worst of it, not the best; there would be so much more for us, one day.
Eden offered me a flicker of a smile, and whatever anguish the last week had bloated her chest with dissipated, just a little. Her eyes, neither filled with tears nor completely dry, darted left to right, left to right, as though someone other than Oak might overhear us.
“In yet another selfish way, I am grateful Claire has someone. It makes me feel less guilty about the other, er...” She waved a hand, as if trying to knock the words she'd just spoken out of the air. I raised my brow, genuinely curious about where she was going with it. “Other women.”
“Oh,” I said, and then parsed what she'd meant. “Oh.”
Even with only a sliver of moonlight draped over us, I could tell Eden had turned bright red. I broke out into unflattering laughter and she tugged my hand, scolding me with a click of her tongue that dissolved into laughter halfway through.
On the day of the coronation, I didn't know what to expect. I only knew what was expected of me, and that was to put on my new clothing, brush my hair, and go where I was told to. I asked Kouris what it was going to be like, and she said it was bound to be different in every country. Besides, when Kastelir was founded, they'd had four rulers to crown.
Today, the focus was on Claire alone.
I couldn't imagine Queen Nasrin abiding half of the pomp and ceremony already rippling through Thule. Then again, I couldn't imagine her stopping her work long enough for any formal ceremony, no matter how drab. In all likeliness, she had kept working and muttered yes, yes, of course, while someone reading from a very old book asked if she was taking things seriously.
Thule had decorated its streets in a way that put the Phoenix Festival to shame. Haru-Taiki was the inspiration once again, and taverns and inns renamed themselves in his and Claire's honour. There were half a dozen The Phoenix Rises in the city, and at least one Phoenix Knight. The coronation took place within the castle, and so was not something all of Thule would be able to witness, but that didn't deter the people. By midday, they were already drunk from the dozens of parties they'd drifted between, and chants of Long Live The Queen! filled the air long before the crown had been placed upon her head.
None of that was to say that the coronation was a private, cosy occasion. I was escorted by Kouris, who had dressed in something akin to a human suit, only with vastly modified trousers, to the open area that had once hosted Alex's birthday celebrations. It had been my first real experience of Thule's castle, and so it felt right that Claire have her coronation there.
There were four hundred people gathered, with countless more pressed up against the castle gates. If there was a religious aspect to the ceremony in Canth, it was not so here: an elderly woman of eighty or ninety years led the coronation, and was nothing short of practical about it. Claire's duties were laid out plainly for her, and each time the woman paused, Claire swore that yes, of course she would do all within her power to do what was right for Felheim.
She would not be blinded by wealth or succumb to bribery. She would never ask for more than the people could spare, and if there was nothing for them to offer up, then she would bear the blame for that. Felheim was hers to protect, from invading armies to desolate fields alike.
Despite all that had been put into the day, from the perfectly tailored suit proudly showing Felheim’s colours, with an eyepatch and cane to match, to the decorative banners hanging from windows and spanning across archways, Claire wasn’t fixed in the moment. She was impatient, as though being crowned was not what we had worked towards for so long. The people cheered for her, and as Kouris and I watched from the front row, Kidira, Akela and Sen by our sides, I knew that to Claire, this was a mere formality.
But that didn't stop a chill from going down my spine when the crown was placed upon her head and Haru-Taiki rose up from behind the raised platform she stood upon, circled the crowd, weaved around the citizens, and returned to her outstretched arm.
Applause rang out. Claire held up a hand, offering her mute thanks to all those who had gathered for her. Had she spoken, it would've been lost to the roar that rose from Thule, and I could not help but join in, clapping with so much force I convinced myself Claire would hear me over the others.
The crowd rippled beside us, and Ash barged her way through. She never would've missed this moment and must've been watching from another vantage point. When she reached us, she had to lean in close for me to hear her.
“Look who I managed to drag out,” she shouted.
I glanced over her shoulder and saw Goblin straggling behind her. He started at nothing more severe than eye contact, regathered himself, and waved sheepishly.
Knowing any attempts at conversation would be awkwardly lost to the crowd, I decided a pat on the shoulder would let him know I was glad to see him. He'd spent so much time in his chambers, wherever they were, that I kept forgetting he was in Felheim at all.
I turned away, not wanting Goblin to see in my face that I was thinking of his father. He'd worked so hard to get back to Asar, and I wanted nothing more than for Atthis to be able to share this moment with us. I swallowed a lump in my throat and focused on the moment.
The cheering didn't die down. Claire proceeded regardless. She gestured for people to join her on stage, all of them equipped with scrolls and quills, and the crowd's riotous applause turned to a curious murmur. When everyone gathered concluded that their neighbours hadn't been mysteriously granted the insight they lacked, they fell quiet and returned to pushing themselves up on tiptoes.
“My people,” Claire began. Haru-Taiki, still perched on her arm, tucked his wings in and puffed out his chest. The people Claire had summoned to the stage began to write, wrists moving as quickly as Claire's lips did. “Let this day not be thought of as the first of my reign. Let us not delude ourselves into thinking that I was nothing, and now I am something, all at once. Remember the steps I took in order to stand here before you today.
“Remember that I was a Knight. That I fought for you. Remember that my flesh was scorched, time and time again, that another village might not fall prey to a dragon.”
There was a ripple of applause, though most could feel the uncomfortable shift in the atmosphere approach, like a building storm clambering over the horizon.
“And remember this: it was all for nought. It was all a lie.”
I saw council members and politicians shoot each other horrified glances. This was not scripted. Worse still, they didn't know where it was headed.
“Today, I reset the calendar. Today, we enter a new era. Today, I tell you why we ought not to look upon our past with anything but bitter contempt and aching disappointment, for there never were any unprovoked dragon attack.
“There were only carefully planned assaults on villages and towns the King and Queen – my parents – and their predecessors before them considered worth sacrificing to keep all of Felheim under their thumb.”
CHAPTER XVI
“Your Majesty,” a woman hissed from across the stage. “If you do this, it will be the end of your reign.”
Only those at the front were close enough to hear her, and only those who’d been with Claire from the start cared. Everyone else joined together in a taut, terse silence, desperate to know what came next; needing to know that there was a punch line, and that they’d misinterpreted their new Queen.
“Many of you know that I left Felheim. Most of you know that I was involved with the former Kastelir’s resistance; most of you know I was their leader. What you do not know is how it all started. Why I left without a word to anyone,” Claire began, eyes fixed not on me or anyone in the crowd, but on the even line of the horizon. “When I left Thule, I was alone because I believed I had to be. I believed that I was the only one who could stop what was being done, and that it was my duty to bear the burden on my own two shoulders.
“More than that, I was conflicted: King Garland was my father, had trusted me with Felheim’s gravest secret, and my heart was instantly moved to betrayal. To treason. My mind soon followed.
“He told me how for long centuries, Felheim’s rulers had warped and twisted dragons to do their bidding, or at least fly to where they were commanded to. There the dragons, confused, afraid, and hurt, would lash out at everything around them.
“None of this happened by chance. Dragons are powerful, peaceful creatures, and it is the work of us, the work of humans, that has seen our people turned to ash. What does this achieve? What is all of this death and destruction for? It keeps us in order. It ensures we always have enough food to feed our people. It ensures that Kastelir and the territories before it would never so much as think of invading a dragon-infested land. It ensures that Agados thinks we are more trouble than they’re worth.
“We – my family, my predecessors – have tortured and abused necromancers, pane, and dragons alike. I could not abide this. I could not continue the cycle. And so I left. I forced myself into a self-imposed exile, meaning to seek aid from the rulers of Kastelir, that I might find the support I needed to prematurely claim the throne and right our wrongs from within.
“I need not tell you what happened. How Isin was turned to dust and millions of lives were lost. What I will tell you is this: do not be defensive. Do not act as though by being Felheimish you are to blame, or somehow implicit. Few knew about this, few orchestrated it. We are all victims of this.
“But there are those who have it worse than you. Than us. Remember them. They are not dead and buried, or charred bones lost amongst the ruins of a once great city. They are the former Kastelirians who no longer have homes, whose cries for help we would ignore; the pane who have been forced to do horrendous things and the pane who have been pushed back into the mountains, unable to wander freely; the necromancers who have been used by our rulers for their own horrific ends, and the necromancers who have grown up knowing nothing but a perpetual fear and self-loathing.
“The fact that I stand here today, able to share these things with you and swear that it shall never happen again in Felheim, throughout the whole of Bosma, does not change what these people are still going through. I do not expect anyone to take this news easily, and I know that countless of you have lost friends and family in dragon attacks, but I ask one thing of you: do not turn against one another. Do not make enemies out of shadows.
“Our anger, our energy, is better spent healing and helping those we have the chance to still help. This is a new era. We no longer mark our calendars from a war we do not remember and may never have happened. We mark our days from the decision we made to move forward, to be better than we were, and live together. Humans, necromancers, pane, dragons, phoenixes, and all.”
There was no burst of applause this time. How could there be? Confused silence lingered on, as though there was anything Claire could do to make sense of this, and when noise rose, there was the anger Claire had spoken of. Only it did not take a productive form, as she had wished. The celebration turned to outrage. Confused, demanding cries rose up in a cacophony that could only lead to violence, and Akela was in front of Claire in a heartbeat.
Kouris helped me clamber onto the stage, and Claire’s guards formed a blockade. She looked at her people one last time, and marched as briskly as she could back into the castle. The ceremony was over. She had her crown, along with overdue unrest, and there was nothing she could say to soften the truth that had spilt from her lips.
“Your Majesty,” someone inside called. Their billowing robes spoke of importance, and like half of the nobles in the castle, they had learnt to say Your Majesty with an air of incredulity. “Is this true?”
If there were any who’d so much as suspected the truth, much less known exactly what had been unfolding behind the country’s backdrop, it was in their best interest that they distance themselves from any accusations of involvement.
