Page 9 of Warrior Princess (Blood Weaver Trilogy #3)

8

M ykal's introduction cut through the tension like a sharp blade as he stood between me and his adoptive father, King Eduard of Keldara. “Princess Lyanna, I’d like to introduce King Eduard Kaiser,” he announced with a formal tone that belied the undercurrent of pressure.

As King Eduard settled onto his opulent throne, I stepped forward and bowed deeply to show my respect. “Your Majesty.” My voice remained steady despite the flutter of nerves.

There was a prolonged pause, the silence stretching into a palpable strain that filled the throne room, accentuated by the distant echoes of footsteps in the stone hallways outside. Finally, he spoke, his voice booming and authoritative. “Rise.”

Straightening, I demurely clasped my hands in front of me and met the king's dark, probing gaze. He scrutinized me thoroughly, his eyes lingering unsettlingly on the swell of my breasts, then my lips, before finally meeting my gaze again. The intensity of his examination made me uncomfortable, a feeling which was only exacerbated when Mykal stepped in front of me, shielding me somewhat from the king's intrusive stare.

“Father,” Mykal interjected, his voice carrying a sharp edge of protectiveness, “I’m sure Princess Lyanna is tired from her arduous journey from the Grasslands and would like to rest. May we please retire for the evening?”

“Why the rush?” King Eduard countered, his voice smooth but carrying a note of challenge. “I would love to hear from the princess how she found herself embroiled amongst the Crimson Clan.”

Placing a reassuring hand on Mykal’s tense shoulder, I gently stopped him from escalating the conversation. “Of course, Your Majesty.” I stepped around Mykal to address the king directly. “It’s quite the tale, if I do say so myself.”

His expression shifted to one of amusement. A slight grin played at his lips as he snapped his fingers toward Diane, who had been lingering awkwardly behind us. I had almost forgotten her presence.

“You!” he called out sharply. “Bring the princess a chair.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Diane responded quickly before hurrying out of the throne room.

As we waited in silence, I tried not to fidget as the king studied me, his curiosity barely contained. Mykal stood resolutely beside me, his body coiled with anticipation.

Diane returned, struggling with a chair that seemed too heavy for her slight frame. Mykal quickly went to assist her, then brought the chair over to me with a nod of thanks in her direction.

“Please.” King Eduard gestured for me to sit. As I settled into the chair, he leaned forward, his eyes fixed on me. “Now tell me, Your Highness. You have my undivided attention.”

I made myself comfortable and began to recount my story. I told him of my hidden life in the Central Plains under the guise of Leila the healer, of my first encounter with Ronan, and my subsequent meetings with Mykal and Caelan. I wove a narrative that traced my path back to Valoria and then to the Grasslands, carefully omitting sensitive details such as Mykal's manipulations, Caelan's hurtful actions, and the depth of my relationship with Ronan. My tale was sanitized, a version that retained intrigue without giving away any leverage.

“Interesting, interesting,” the king mused thoughtfully after I finished. “So you can heal just about anything with your blood?” His brow was raised in open curiosity.

I nodded cautiously. “Yes, I can. Although it doesn’t heal all poisons, unfortunately.”

He hummed, and his gaze became pensive. “From what Mykal told me, you assisted the Crimson Clan in reviving the demon fox. Is that correct?”

I nodded again, more slowly this time, realizing that Mykal had shared more than I expected. I almost felt silly sitting there thinking the king didn’t know every single detail of my life. “Yes,” I admitted, not daring to look at Mykal, wondering just how much he had revealed.

“You’ve had quite an adventure, Princess,” King Eduard remarked with a sly smirk. “My son also mentioned you’re here to... broker peace?”

“Yes,” I affirmed confidently. “The Crimson Clan is no longer the weak nation it once was. With the revival of the demon fox, they have regained their ancestral power and no longer wish to keep their people enslaved. I’m sure you can understand.”

He snorted lightly. “Of course, Princess. But this agreement was written before my time. I’m sure you can understand that unraveling it is not as easy as it seems.”

“Of course,” I agreed, ready to negotiate. “Which is why I’d like to discuss an alternative. I’m sure the Crimson Clan can provide something besides tributes that Keldara would value just as much.”

The king's amusement was evident in his hearty chuckle. His laughter resonated throughout the throne room, echoing off the high stone walls and vaulted ceiling. “Goodness, you're precious! Darling, what could the Crimson Clan possibly offer Keldara?” His tone was patronizing, and his laughter felt like a dismissal.

I bristled at his condescension, but I masked my irritation with a composed smile, though every fiber of my being wanted to glare defiantly. “The Crimson Clan lives off the land,” I began, my voice steady and clear. “From what I have observed of Keldara, your lands are not very… fertile. It's cold here in the north; I'm sure it's not easy to grow crops.”

His laughter abruptly ceased and his face lost its mirth, as if I had touched upon a sensitive truth he preferred to keep hidden. “What are you insinuating, Princess?” he asked, his tone sharp, his teeth gritted.

Undeterred by his growing discomfort, I continued. “The winters are harsh here, especially given the length of the season. I'm sure you don’t want your people to suffer unnecessarily.” My voice carried a subtle challenge, one I hoped would strike the right chord.

King Eduard's eyes narrowed, and a calculating look overtook his features as he rubbed his fingers thoughtfully over his lips. Silence stretched between us. Mykal shifted uneasily beside me but I remained seated, rigid and resolute. I remembered Mykal's advice—King Eduard respected strength.

“Father—” Mykal started, but with a swift raise of his hand, the king silenced him.

Eduard’s intense gaze never left mine. “Unfortunately, Your Highness, we're providing the Crimson Clan with war horses and weapons. That's a lot in exchange for some measly crops,” he retorted.

“Measly crops?” I echoed, standing abruptly. The feeling of inferiority as he loomed above me from his dais was unbearable. “You must be mistaken, Your Majesty. Food to sustain your people would surely be valued much higher than instruments of war, don't you agree?”

His expression shifted and a flicker of curiosity—or was it suspicion?—crossed his features as his gaze darted momentarily to Mykal. “As an outsider, you seem to know a lot about Keldara,” he murmured.

Laughing softly, I shook my head. “You misunderstand, Your Majesty. Mykal hasn't told me anything.” I took a step toward him, slightly closing the distance between us. “You forget I'm Valorian, which means we're neighbors. We also endure long, harsh winters. Fortunately, we have a deal with the kingdom of Eldwain to provide us with extra crops during those times, which ensures our people are never hungry.”

I didn't mention that Diane, who was nearly hidden behind a column, had revealed more than any words could. Her gaunt appearance spoke volumes of the hardship here. Cloaked in skin and bones, she likely wasn’t the only one suffering.

“Ah, correct,” the king muttered. His tone softened slightly as he touched his forehead, referencing the crescent moon birthmark that was a symbol of my heritage. “Well, then.” He sighed heavily and rose from his throne with an air of resignation. “I don't believe we'll come to a consensus tonight. Mykal, why don't you escort the Princess to her bedroom?”

Without waiting for a response, King Eduard stepped down from the dais and exited the throne room, his regal robes trailing behind him, leaving us to absorb the aftermath of the confrontation in the silence of the empty hall.

As King Eduard departed, the heavy echo of the closing doors reverberated through the grand throne room, leaving a palpable silence in his wake. Mykal turned to me, his expression a mixture of concern and admiration, his eyebrows knitting together with a slight frown. “You okay?”

I nodded and attempted to mask the adrenaline still coursing through my veins. “I’m fine,” I replied, my voice sounding far steadier than I felt.

He smirked, and a hint of pride flickered across his face. “You stood your ground,” he commended. “I don’t believe anyone has ever stood up to the king in that manner. At least not anyone besides the queen.”

His mention of the queen piqued my curiosity. Glancing around the vast, opulently decorated room, I noticed the conspicuous absence of another throne. “Where is she? I don’t see a throne for her here.” I scanned the detailed frescoes and rich tapestries that adorned the walls for any clue.

Mykal’s expression suddenly darkened and a shadow passed over his features. “Don’t worry about that. Let’s get you settled in before the king changes his mind.”

“Changes his mind?” I echoed, a flicker of alarm threading through my words.

He snorted dismissively, yet there was an underlying seriousness in his tone as he made a slicing gesture across his neck with his hand. “Yes, hopefully he doesn’t decide to…” His implication was clear—the king could very well order my execution on a whim.

“So much for protecting me,” I murmured dryly, rolling my eyes in frustration. I turned to leave, unsure where I was headed, when Mykal’s hand clasped around my wrist and halted my steps.

“I would never let him hurt you, Leila,” he whispered urgently, his voice low as if he feared eavesdroppers. His eyes searched mine, intense and sincere. “I hope you can trust me when I tell you that.”

Over his shoulder, I caught Diane’s gaze, which was fixed on us. Her expression was unreadable, but deeply focused. I shifted my attention back to Mykal, weighing his words and the earnestness in his eyes. “Mykal, in our brief acquaintance, you haven’t given me much reason to trust you,” I stated bluntly.

“I know.” His voice was tinged with regret. “And I won’t apologize because it would be insincere. But I hope you can learn to trust me anyway. At least while you’re here in Keldara.”

I nodded, my response non-committal. The complexity of our relationship, marred by past deceptions and the current precarious situation, left me wary. Yet, under the looming threat of the mercurial king’s whims, Mykal was my best ally in this unfamiliar land.

Mykal led me through the sprawling corridors of the palace where the opulence of Keldara's royal residence was evident in every ornate detail. Threads from the rich tapestries that told stories of the kingdom’s storied past glinted with gold and silver under the soft glow of wall-mounted torches. Our footsteps echoed on the polished marble floors, intricate mosaics unfolding beneath our feet like the pages of an ancient, illustrated manuscript.

Diane followed a few steps behind, her presence a silent shadow in the expansive hallway. As we navigated a series of increasingly secluded corridors, the distant sounds of palace life gradually faded until all that accompanied us was the soft rustle of our attire and the occasional clink of armor from the guards stationed along our path.

Finally, Mykal stopped in front of a heavy wooden door, its surface carved with delicate vines and flowers. He pushed it open to reveal a room that was a stark contrast to the cold grandeur of the hallways. The guest room was warmly lit by a crystal chandelier that hung from the center of the ceiling and cast a soft, inviting glow over plush furnishings.

“ This is my room?” I stepped over the threshold, my gaze sweeping over the interior.

Mykal nodded. “Hopefully it’s to your standard.” His voice carried a hint of concern as though he felt personally responsible for my comfort. “I had them prepare it ahead of your arrival.”

The room was indeed fit for a princess. Dominated by a four-poster bed draped with rich, crimson curtains that matched the plush, soft rugs underfoot, ornate furniture—a mahogany dresser, a writing desk by the bay windows, and a small sitting area with velvet-cushioned chairs—filled the space, making it feel both luxurious and lived-in.

“It’s perfect, Mykal. Thank you,” I assured him, although a faint undercurrent of unease whispered at the back of my mind, perhaps due to the unfamiliarity of the lavish surroundings.

“Good. I’ll leave Diane here if you need anything else. Don’t hesitate to ask. I won’t be too far away,” he said before excusing himself with a polite nod.

Once he departed, Diane lingered by the door. She seemed hesitant, torn between her duties and the urge to give me privacy. Ignoring her, I went to the desk by the bay windows and sat down. I noticed there was parchment and ink, and I was reminded to send word to Ronan that I’d arrived safely. It would be best if I tried writing to him every day so he wouldn’t worry. If I sent it tonight, he would get it by morning. The desk against the bay windows offered a panoramic view of the palace gardens below, bathed in the dusky hues of twilight.

Grateful for the opportunity, I penned a detailed letter to Ronan, describing my initial experiences in Keldara. I told him everything. How the king made me wait for hours and how he practically laughed in my face when I attempted to negotiate. It wasn’t going well, but then again, I hadn’t even been there a full day. I wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

After sealing the letter, I stood and turned to Diane, who still hovered near the entrance. When I called her name, she quickly focused her attention on me.

She clasped her hands nervously in front of her. “Yes, Your Highness?”

I extended the sealed envelope toward her. “Do you think you can get this to a messenger and have it sent to the Grasslands?”

Her eyes widened slightly as she took the envelope with trembling hands. “Of course, Your Highness. I’ll have it sent out tonight.” After offering a demure curtsey, she hurried out and closed the door softly behind her.

She was an odd one, but I felt bad for her. She didn’t seem to be living well, even though she was a servant in the palace. I was reminded of the Crimson Clan members who were enslaved in these lands, which only saddened me further. If I didn’t accomplish my goal here, everyone would continue to suffer. I felt the pressure to succeed.

Left alone, I glanced around the sumptuous room once more, feeling both the weight of my mission and the solitude of my position. Exhausted from my day, I decided to go to bed. While inviting, the plush fabrics and soft pillows provided little comfort against the brewing storm of political intrigue. Tomorrow promised more challenges, but I was determined to face whatever came with the dawn.