“My

  queen, may I petition to you?”

  A

  nervous looking young woman stood in the doorway, dressed in the

  plain tunic of a servant. Her flaxen hair was pulled up into a tight

  braided bun, something that would have taken too much fuss for an

  everyday style, the young woman had prepared to speak with me. I

  always appreciated when commoners had the respect to spend that extra

  bit of effort, it was the least they could do.

  “Petition?”

  I questioned. “If I’m not mistaken you are one of the cooks. What

  could a cook possibly think they deserve from me?”

  The

  girl hesitated, hand creeping to her chest like she was afraid that I

  might strike her down with magic at any moment. I had never done such

  a thing, but I did find delight that the servants had a healthy fear

  of my abilities. I had been worried that perhaps with Evonia’s iron

  grip gone, they may have mistaken me as less imperious as my

  grandmother.

  “You

  may approach,” I acquiesced, “tell me what you think you

  deserve.”

  “Well,

  I...” she trailed off as she realized that she should indeed

  approach and not shout at me from the doorway. “I don’t want

  anything for myself,” she explained, “but my mother is the head

  cook and she’s been too afraid to ask for something.”

  “Your

  mother needs her fledgling to carry out her whims?”

  The

  young woman shifted her stance, her right foot turning slightly to

  the door as if she already knew that I might dismiss her.

  “No-no,

  she just worries that you might be a bit like your grandmother and be

  very intolerant of any commoners speaking before being spoken to.”

  I

  let out a barely audible laugh. “She is perhaps a wise woman then,

  but I am perhaps slightly different from my grandmother. I do not

  mind entertaining the blathering of commoners as long as they are

  respectful and concise.”

  I

  raised my eyebrows to indicate that she had a brief moment of my

  consideration.

  “Oh!”

  she exclaimed in surprise. “It’s just that the kitchen staff has

  heard that there may be more people coming to live in the castle and

  we do not currently have the stores to support many more mouths.”

  “I

  am to assume your request for permission to expand our food stores?”

  The

  woman nodded and I rapped my fingers on the armrest of the throne in

  thought. I was slightly annoyed that the commoners had any idea of my

  plan to bring in recruits. If the servants already knew, then it was

  only a matter of time before the information got back to less than

  friendly ears, if it had not already.

  “That

  is fine,” I said with an annoyed sigh, “tell your mother she may

  prepared for at least ten extra mouths to feed. That will be an

  appropriate place to start.”

  The

  woman clapped her hands together and gave a deep bow before scurrying

  back out of the room.

  If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  “You

  should have scolded her for leaving without your permission.”

  Mistra

  had entered from the door hidden behind the throne and swayed past to

  sit beside me in the consort’s chair. Her hair was simply tied back

  at her neck with a strip of leather, locks left long in their natural

  spirals all the way down to her knees. It was my favorite style,

  making her look all the more exotic and untamed. She had also chosen

  to wear the very form fitting crimson dress that I preferred,

  obviously there was something she wanted me to agree to. I had to

  admit that in her current appearance I was much more inclined to

  indulge her in whatever she had in mind.

  “She

  showed more respect than I expected,” I said with a shrug. “I

  like to think she ran out of here before I struck her down. Perhaps

  the servants are just appropriately motivated to avoid my wrath.”

  Mistra’s

  ruby lips parted into a soft laugh. “I think you would much rather

  they be stricken into being motionless before you, ready to execute

  exactly, and only, what you grant them, but perhaps I am a bit used

  to the demon philosophy on efficient ruling.”

  “Do

  you really want me to become something like your father?” I asked

  with a sly grin.

  It

  had taken no effort on my own to investigate the relationship between

  Rafe and his daughter, they wore their thoughts and emotions

  regarding each other on their faces. Rafe had no idea how to be

  delicate or giving with his only daughter and she felt like he was a

  rigid, illogical oaf. It couldn’t be denied that had a strong

  familial love between them, but I didn’t think either of them would

  readily state that aloud.

  She

  let out a disgusted sound and waved the idea away with her left hand.

  “Never say anything like that again.”

  After

  a long moment of silence between us, Mistra leaned forward and swept

  an errant strand of my hair away from my face, hesitating a moment

  with her hand on my face before leaning back with an unreadable

  expression.

  “I

  will be traveling to my father’s realm,” she said.

  “You

  needed to tell me that?” I asked with a raise of my eyebrow. “You

  commonly travel in and out for various reasons.”

  “Yes,

  but this time I will be staying for a while,” she explained slowly.

  “My training demands I spent some expended time in the realm to

  better my skills.”

  I

  tried very hard to keep a stone face, but I felt the edges of my lips

  quiver into a subtle downturn. Her eyes narrowed slightly into an

  amused expression and her face colored to a beautiful rose gold

  shade.

  “If

  it is necessary for you to do,” I said as I tried my best to seem

  unaffected, “then that is what will happen.”

  Mistra’s

  expression softened and she nodded, a faint smile on her face. “I

  would not think I would be gone for overly long, but Feros is

  sometimes unpredictable.”

  I

  nodded my understanding, but inwardly frowned at the idea she could

  be gone for long. I had gotten so comfortable with her next to me

  during the nights and times when we were both done training, it would

  be strange to end my day in an empty, cold bed.

  “While

  I’m there, perhaps I can be of assistance with my family as they

  try to recruit and train their army,” Mistra suggested. “I hardly

  think that the males in my family have one clever brain between the

  lot of them. Without intervention I would shudder to think what they

  would manage to come up with. Perhaps this is a boon with the

  timing.”

  Her

  dark eyes met mine and I felt like I could see a flash of some

  unknown emotion in them. My heart involuntarily fluttered at the idea

  that perhaps she was upset at the idea of having to leave my side. I

  would not break our wordless agreement not to muddy our arrangement

  with questions of just what the emotions were, but the temptation was

  rising.

  “With

  you overseeing them, I feel much better about leaving the bulk of the

  army up to them,” I said.

  “Good,”

  she agreed, “then I will be leaving in the morning. Feros wanted me

  to leave immediately, but I felt that it was rather presumptuous of

  him to think he could dictate the time to me.”

  Mistra

  leaned in her seat towards me, an impish smile on her face. Her left

  hand moved to lightly lay on my arm, her touch so gentle that it

  caused the skin to break out into a case of goosebumps.

  “Besides,

  I would like to have one more night to make sure I’m leaving

  everything in good order and that all is prepared for me being away

  for perhaps a while. Maybe I should consider asking a servant to warm

  my side of the bed each night so you won’t feel lonely.”

  Her

  face cracked a half smile and I let out a long sigh at her

  implication that I would truly miss her. I couldn’t deny that I

  would, though I couldn’t admit it out loud. I turned my eyes away

  from hers to try and regain some sense of royal dignity.

  “Sometimes

  you make things very difficult for me,” I said, leaning back in my

  throne.

  “Not

  at all intentional, I assure you,” she purred, rising to her feet.

  “I suppose I should go pack now, best to get it out of the way

  now.”

  As

  Mistra departed, she looked back to me and gave a coy wink so quick

  that I contemplated if I had only imagined seeing it. If not for the

  soft chuckle as the door closed behind her, I might have be able to

  dismiss it as just a trick of the light

  There

  was always a small part of my logic that warned me to consider that

  perhaps she did such things only out of a desire to manipulate me to

  get what she wanted. I would not even blame or think ill of her for

  using such methods, they were obviously working if it were indeed

  true. Casting aside the negative assumptions, I regained my composure

  and rose from my thrown to attend to my own training for the

  afternoon. Though I doubted how focused I would be with the knowledge

  that Mistra was going away and I would need to wrestle with how to

  pretend to everyone else, and mostly myself, that I didn’t cared

  about it.