02:58: Interlude: Isanna
“Isanna! Is it you?”
“Coming, mother.”
She stepped into the solar, where her mother was seated, tea already poured.
Here comes another talk.
She instinctively turned towards the corridor before catching herself.
“Yes, mother?”
“Sit down.”
She did.
The porcelain clicked as her mother set her cup down. Then she met her eyes. “What do you think of Baron Wulf’s son?”
“He’s… fine.”
Silence stretched.
“But?” her mother prompted.
Isanna stared at the surface of her tea.
“I don’t want to live in a forest.”
“He lives in a proper castle, not a woodcutter’s hut. The Wulfs have been stalwart allies of our House for generations. Their barony might be small, but nobody can call it weak. Your ancestors tried to conquer them for centuries and failed every time.”
“I know,” she muttered, “but it is still in the woods.”
Strong or not, who would choose to live in that miserable place by choice?
“Brother said I could choose whomever I wanted to marry.”
“Yes, but not foolishly. You also don’t have forever.” She paused to take a sip. “I suppose you are looking forward to his marriage, with all its southern grandeur?”
Isanna tried her best to not show the emotions roiling within her on her face before answering. “Yes.”
Her mother didn’t miss it.
Then how did she miss what had been right in front of her for weeks? Or does she know the truth? If she did, why would she hide it from me?
“What is it?” the older woman asked.
“Nothing.”
“Be careful in the capital. Most suitors there will see you as nothing more than a way to get close to the Prince Consort. Since you are getting the luxury of choice,” she reeled at the note of bitterness in her mother’s voice, “do not squander it. Also, no decisions without our approval.”
“I won’t.”
“Good.”
She took her chance. “May I visit Aldwina?”
Her mother’s eyebrows drew closer. “Nordhaven? Why did you not accompany your brother yesterday?”
“I received a message from her just this morning. Her favorite jeweler received new pieces from the capital.”
“That… is unseemly. She is recently widowed.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s been months, mother. The mourning period is over.”
Her mother sighed. “You and your fads.”
She made a face that she knew her mother couldn’t resist.
“Please, mother? I’ll be back in two days, I promise!”
“We are not swimming in gold.”
“I saw bag upon bags being taken to the treasury.”
“For the pensions of families of the fallen, and our new soldiers.”
“That much?”
“Yes.”
She leaned forward. “Please, mother. We need to look our best for the wedding.”
“We have plenty of jewelry.”
“It’s old!”
“It’s called heritage.”
“We will look like country bumpkins in comparison to the ladies of the capital.”
Seeing how she would not be deterred, her mother finally relented. “Fine, but no extravagant purchases.”
She sighed in relief. “Thank you.”
“Sir Moore will accompany you.”
Her breath hitched. “He’s occupied. Surely a small escort would—”
The older woman fixed her with a stare. “No.”
“Mother—”
“No.”
The words were final.
She had to finally give up.
“Fine.”
Hopefully he had planned for it. He must have.
Shoulders slumped, she rose, dipped her head, then left the solar.
She could finally breathe in the corridor, until she nearly ran into Elric.
The Steward, lost in his thoughts, startled lightly. He bowed, then moved past her without a word.
He looked tired. He had looked like that ever since that man had arrived, sending the poor man on odd errands, tasking him with procuring even more odd items.
Soil hauled in cartloads from barns. Rotting earth which had fouled the air for days.
She had tried to pry answers out of her mother, but she kept evading every question.
About the man in her brother’s body.
Pulse hammering, she slipped into a nearby alcove, then took out the piece of parchment hidden in her dress’s sleeve. Unrolling it for tenth time, she forced her fingers to still as she read it one more time:
The fragrance of the blossoming roses in the garden that summer and your embrace there still hasn’t left me. I yearn to hold you in my arms again.
Heat rushed to her face.
Nobody ought to know that. It had been a secluded part of the garden, tucked behind tall hedges, and no one was around. No one besides the two of them.
Her throat tightened.
He was supposed to be dead. She had quietly mourned him.
Another impostor?
Her grip tightened.
No.
How could anyone else know about it?
It had to be him.
I must ask of a favor from you. Our realm is under dire threat, beset by charlatans; some of whom might be very close to you.
Her stomach clenched.
A charlatan. Someone very close.
She knew what he was talking about.
I need your help in saving it, my sweet. Do not speak of it to anyone. Not even your family. Burn this message the moment you finish reading it.
Visit A.a. and all will be made clear.
I will wait for you with a pining heart.
A.a. The only person she knew with those initials was Aldwina.
She didn’t know how he had found out she was close to her, but he must have his sources.
He was alive, and he had contacted her for help!
Warmth bloomed in her chest.
Then vanished just as quickly as it had arrived.
Her brother was either dead or possessed by something, or both.
She thought his odd behavior was due to his near-death experience or having to kill the knights of Nobart, but even that, along with memory loss, shouldn’t change someone so drastically.
The odd phrases, waving the milling fees, all those clandestine meetings, giving away more than a thousand gold to the families of fallen men. Most of them peasants.
Not that drastically.
Isanna still hadn’t been sure. Not until the morning of his departure.
He would never admit it, but her brother was afraid of dogs. He would rather pick a snake than a puppy.
Only she and Olfric knew about the incident. Nobody else.
Fifteen years ago, the three of them had snuck out to play with the month-old puppies in the kennels, when a large, aggressive bitch had almost bitten Jack. Fearing their father’s temper, they had never told anyone about the incident, but he was never comfortable around dogs from then on.
She supposed one could overcome such fears, but that man didn’t have any fear at all.
That was not growth. That was something else.
Something wearing him.
Her pulse spiked.
Father Korric had been furious after his meeting with him. He must have suspected as well.
Possession. Demons and sorcerers.
Rolling the message, she hurried to her chambers. The embers still glowed in the hearth. She threw the parchment there. It caught fire, curling and turned into ash.
Moore was reluctant to accompany her, citing duties. Enough cajoling, and he finally agreed to escort her the next day.
That night, sleep evaded Isanna. She tossed and turned in her bed. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the garden.
He was alive. And he remembered her.
He had chosen her.
But why hadn’t he come to her first?
Why Aldwina?
Because of the charlatans, of course.
The thing in her brother’s body.
Who had fooled even the Queen.
Even her mother. Especially her.
The poor woman had been inconsolable after the news of her brother’s death. No wonder she failed to see the truth.
But Isanna had.
It was odd why that man would be so kind to her and spent so much money on the peasants, but then who could know the mind of a sorcerer? Or whatever he was.
A ploy of some sort. To make them lower their guards.
She would not be fooled.
She would go to him and render him whatever aid she could.
And when this was over, he would remember who stood by him.
The next day, the sky was mercifully free of the dark clouds that heralded rain.
The journey passed in a blur of motion. Fields and villages passed.
None of it mattered.
Anticipation built inside her, along with fear.
What if he wasn’t there?
No. He would be.
He had to be.
By afternoon, they were in Nordhaven.
As the carriage rolled to a stop, Isanna’s heart began hammering in her chest.
“Are you well, my lady?” Moore asked softly.
“Yes,” she replied tersely.
He opened the door for her and she stepped into the courtyard of the manor.
Her friend was there to receive her with a smile on her face.
“I am honored to receive you, my lady,” Aldwina said, bowing.
“Oh stop,” Isanna said, closing the distance and pulling her into an embrace.
She looked happy, but Isanna could feel her nervousness.
She escorted her inside.
After ordering the servants to offer refreshments to Moore and the soldiers, she led Isanna by hand to her chambers.
She locked the door before facing her.
Her demeanor had changed.
“Isanna,” she whispered, “there is a conspiracy underfoot. The throne was stolen from our realm’s rightful ruler. Not only that, he was betrayed by his own blood.”
Isanna’s hand flew to her mouth.
“He survived, but barely. He has been hiding, gathering allies, and he needs you. Will you help him in saving our realm?”
Isanna didn’t need to think.
She already knew the answer.
She nodded sharply.
──────── ⋆✩⋆ ────────
A Manor in the barony of Stormhaven
A young man with vivid red hair was pacing in a well furnished room, the stomping of his boots muffled by the cushion of the carpet.
“How long do I need to wait?” he shouted. “I could have commandeered the Royal troops and have them capture that bastard and that Sindhi bitch! What the hell is Stormhaven doing?”
One of the two men standing near the door jerked.
“The Duke sends his apologies, Your Majesty,” Stormhaven’s man replied. “He asks for a few more weeks.”
“We don’t have weeks! Once my sister is married and that bastard has put a child in her, every fence-sitter will crawl to her.”
His breathing grew ragged.
“Yet here I sit, while your master is hiding behind walls and excuses. The man won’t even come see his liege!”
“It’s the spies, Your Majesty,” melodic feminine voice came from behind.
Linus turned.
Drusilla set her cup aside with delicate precision, then stood up gracefully, her violet gown shimmering in the dull light. “The Duke is worried. If your sister finds out about your survival before our forces are ready…”
Linus’s eyes tracked the sway of her hips as she stepped closer.
“Who knows what she or that man”, she whispered, “might have planned?”
“He won’t be a problem for long,” he replied, then turned sharply to the younger man. “Olfric, how goes my plan?”
“Well, Your Majesty. I just received a message. She is on the way.”
Linus stilled.
Then grinned.
“Excellent. Prepare to receive our guest.”
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