Princess Gwendolyn
Khushian Royal Palace (Dragon Keep)
It wouldn't be long now; Lochester drew nearer with every wingbeat. Roseblood's head dipped curiously as the earth beneath them melded from fields of sand and rocks to rich soil and clusters of trees. Gwen wondered how often the royal dragons ventured to Lochester – she couldn't imagine it was frequent. The Southern Sea was visible on their right, which meant they were heading in the right direction.
Her party hadn't answered if they were all doing okay. Perhaps the wind had stolen her question. They all appeared to still be on the dragons, and that was about as well as she could ask of them. The dragon carrying the trio appeared older than Roseblood and Arrowhead, and Gwen was getting the sense that Roseblood was watching Hemlock to gauge if they were heading in the right direction.
Eventually, the stone walls of Lochester came into view. Gwen gently drew her sword and directed Roseblood toward an open clearing within the palace grounds. The Lochesterian royal castle towered the highest in the land, and for no other purpose than that title. From perches on the tower, several Lochesterian guards were gawking at them and, more alarmingly, raising nocked bows.
“Down, Rosie,” Gwen whispered as Rosie gracefully touched down and retracted her wings. Gwen sprung off her and withdrew her sword, instead holding her arms out to the armed guards. “Ceasefire! Stand down!” she commanded. The guards hesitantly obeyed, perhaps less because she'd ordered it, and more because she was close enough for them to recognize her.
“The Ylorian princess!” “Alert the queen!” “Are those dragons?!” Lochester didn't seem nearly as prepared for her arrival as Khusha had. That was probably a good thing. Gwen turned and put a hand to her forehead to squint up at the sky. Arrowhead landed clumsily, but Sylvia jumped off unharmed and even offered the beast a chuckle and a pat on the nose.
Hemlock was a bit behind the others and landed unsteadily a bit too close to Roseblood, who hissed and scrambled out of the away. Gwen didn't immediately spot the others behind the dragon's large frame, but Hemlock was still slowing himself. “See?” she said as Hemlock came to an abrupt stop, “I told you dragon riding wasn't so - ”
A terrified screech cut Gwen off, though it only lasted about half a second before Dimmy and Raleigh hit the ground in a disorganized heap. Hemlock gave an annoyed huff, as if glad to be rid of them, but craned his neck back to check on Lyn, giving a happy hum that she at least had arrived safely. Gwen stared at them for a moment, the laughter of the Lochesterian guard quickly snapping her back to attention. “Up, now” she hissed, embarrassed. A flash of red on Raleigh caught her attention. “You're bleeding...” Gwen muttered, licking her thumb and rubbing it away as if she were his mother. “Please, we're finally here, just pull yourselves together for another hour and I will make it worth your while.”
“Er, Princess?” Gwen whirled around. A guard dressed in the same armor as Raleigh hastily bowed. “Queen Eleonora wishes to speak with you. Kindly gather your... party,” the word party was laced with judgment and contempt, “and follow me.”
Gwen sighed and glared backward before walking over to Roseblood. “Good girl, Rosie,” Gwen mumbled, and the dragon purred in response. “Rest here as long as you need, then take the other dragons back to Khusha for me. And tell Alarik I'm sorry for the trouble.” Roseblood dipped her neck as if she understood. Alarik always talked to her like that, so perhaps she did. “Back to Khusha,” Gwen repeated, just in case.
The group was paraded past a fleet of Lochesterian guards, some of whom were whispering not-so-secretively either about the presence of the Ylorian princess, a vampire, or Raleigh – most of them a combination of the three oddities. They were led to a large, ornate door that Gwen knew led into the entrance chamber of Lochester's palace.
To Gwen's surprise, the door was opened by a servant to reveal a tall woman adorned in a large blue dress decorated with gold and silver lace, extravagant silver jewellery, and a large pointed silver crown embroidered with large sapphires and diamonds on top of curled navy hair - Queen Eleonora. She held the stiff, serious expression Gwen was so used to seeing at political meetings for a moment, then her face relaxed into a warm smile as her icy blue eyes fell to their party. Gwen tensed as she took a few steps forward and cupped Gwen's face in her hands. From somewhere behind her, she heard Sylvia swear under her breath. “Ah,” the queen mused as Gwen resisted the urge to break away, “Princess – well, isn't this a pleasant surprise.” Indeed, Gwen had never seen Eleonora so happy in her entire life. She released a sigh she hadn't realized she'd been holding as Eleonora straightened and turned her attention to the rest of the party with a more familiar scowl. “And these... “people”... are...?”
“My guard,” Gwen started, “they - ”
“Your guard?” Eleonora gave a pointed look at Raleigh. “Where is Sir Emerick?”
Gwen frowned. “He is otherwise occupied.” She forced herself to bow to Eleonora. “I thank Lochester for the service of Sir Raleigh. We would not have made it here without his assistance.”
Eleonora stared past Gwen with an odd expression. “Hm, well, very well. Come inside, then. We can discuss over tea.” She turned abruptly and disappeared past the doors. Two servants on either side opened the grand doors wider with a bow of their heads.
Gwen turned to check on her party, intending to offer them an apologetic look for Eleonora's rudeness, but found Sylvia fighting with a familiar golden bracelet which had a vice grip on her left wrist and was vibrating so forcefully her entire forearm was shaking. Oh. Perhaps that was the reason for the queen's reaction. “I can't get the f*cking thing off,” Sylvia whisper-yelled her complaint at Gwen, whose eyes flicked to the servants. They were pretending not to notice the conversation.
As the bracelet had with Gwen when her father was nearby, it had practically sealed itself to Sylvia's wrist. How it got there in the first place, Gwen had no idea. She supposed she shouldn't put theft past Sylvia, but to do it in the chaos of getting over here without Gwen noticing seemed impossible. Now wasn't the time for accusations. “Must be a blood relative nearby...” Gwen mumbled.
Sylvia rolled her eyes. “I don't have any. My parents are both dead.”
Gwen couldn't offer a further explanation, and the delay was getting awkward, so she gestured for the others to follow her inside the castle.
All four kingdoms had castles designed to impress and outshine the others. Yloria's halls were bright and filled with greenery, Zlelmore's were designed to unnerve and show its gritty history, and Khusha's were practically a work of art in their own right. Lochester's was clearly designed to show off its grand wealth. Large pieces of art and huge statues lined the walls, the ceilings were high and painted intricately. Unnervingly, the art included tall humans slicing the heads off werewolves and stabbing vampires with jewel-encrusted daggers.
The group was led into a large room that Gwen recognized as the dining hall, though the large tables that were normally present during royal gatherings were pushed to the side, leaving only a singular table lined with lace tablecloth and several china teacups. Prince Hendrick and Prince Aldrich, the queen's two sons, nodded respectfully at Gwen and walked over as they spotted the group enter. Gwen nodded back. Eleonora took the head of the table with her two sons on either side. Several paces back from the table stood a few men Gwen assumed were advisors, and further still were several guards clad in the same armor as Raleigh. Gwen sat beside Prince Hendrick, unable to meet his curious gaze. Sylvia sat across from Gwen, with an empty seat between her and Aldrich. Gwen preferred to look at her instead. Her navy hair and lavender eyes blended in oddly well with Lochester's royal family, and even the crown on her head... Gwen could have sworn it used to be a black metal, but now it was a gorgeous silver and encrusted with diamonds and sapphires. Gwen looked back and forth between Sylvia and the queen, an action that wasn't unnoticed by Eleonora, who cleared her throat to gain attention. “Princess Gwendolyn, I presume you will introduce your guard before we begin our discussion?” she asked with a curious glance at Sylvia and an irritated tone that Gwen knew was meant to unnerve her. It was working.
“O-of course,” Gwen stuttered, breaking her gaze away from Sylvia's glowing bracelet. She opted to start at the opposite end. “With me, I have Lady Lynneth of Zlelmore, a talented herbalist and fierce warrior.” Lyn did not look the part, but Gwen was not forgetting their fight with the Khushian guards so quickly. “Lord Dimamire of Khusha, a high-ranking noble.” And very much here against his will, though Gwen chose to omit that. “And of course, Sir Raleigh of Lochester, whom we assisted on our travels and he has repaid us in kind by joining my cause and accompanying me as a formal representative.” She tried to sway her tone into one of confident finality. In her peripheral vision, Sylvia had taken to trying to bite the Sage's artifact off. She needed to change the subject. “He has quite the... interesting skillset.”
Eleonora's eyes flashed. “Oh really?” She sat with a straight, practiced poise as she glared suspiciously over at Raleigh. “Does Yloria have so few soldiers left that you had to resort to conscripting those from other nations?”
Gwen slowly shook her head. “I had an army, which was intercepted in Seaside Village by Lochesterian forces. I told them I sought royal diplomacy and was met with violence in my own kingdom.”
“Yes, well,” Eleonora huffed, “they were given orders and they performed them, nothing more. We were not particularly expecting your presence, especially given how our most recent diplomacy talks with Leonius went. Speaking of... where is he?”
Gwen met the queen's eyes, and with as much confidence as she could muster, answered with “at the Ylorian Capital dealing with a war, I would imagine. Like I said, I was sent with an army - ”
“Oh, save it, girl,” Eleonora chided. Her advisors were smirking at her. “He has been in contact. I'm well aware of the situation. You come seeking peace?”
“Yes.”
“And you offer...” Eleonora looked her up and down, “yourself?”
Gwen bowed her head. “I do. I will forfeit all royal power under the condition that I am to marry Lochester's next in line,” (Gwen tried really hard not to blush, given Hendrick was right beside her), “that you reward and safety escort the rest of my party home, and that the Lochesterian attack on Yloria ceases immediately.”
The men near the queen muttered lowly to themselves. “Princess?” one of them spoke. “You're eighteen years old now, correct?”
“Yes.” Just barely. “April 14th.”
More muttering. “My Queen, in the absence of King Leonius's presence, she is old enough to make decisions on behalf of the Ylorian kingdom. Such is their law.”
Gwen felt her heart pick up pace. She knew this is what Lochester wanted. To have the former Ylorian princess on the throne as the consort of their Prince would be one of the greatest trophies they could achieve. A proof of power, not just in the face of Yloria, but to all three kingdoms, of what their wars can accomplish. It would bring great shame to Yloria. Gwen didn't care. The lives of her people were worth it.
“But...” the advisor continued cautiously, “to go against King Leonius's wishes... I am not sure I can advise that.”
Of course he couldn't, but Gwen could see the greed in Eleonora's eyes. “My father will see reason,” Gwen reassured. “His advisors know that this is best for not just our kingdom, but for all the realm. His qualms with this deal are personal. He will come to an understanding.” Gwen felt numb; maybe later she'd feel the harsh reality of her own words, but her focus now was desperately directed to praying Eleonora would accept her offering of peace.
Queen Eleonora rose from her throne, immediately flanked by two guards. Gwen's heart leapt as she realized she was circling to the spare seat beside Sylvia. The only reason she would do that would be to shake her hand and formally accept the deal in front of both kingdom's guards. This journey hadn't been for nothing. All the lives that were lost, all the political drama, the terror in Yloria, it would all be -
“Stay the f*ck away from me!” Sylvia growled at the queen, whose two guards leapt in front of her as Sylvia bared sharp werewolf teeth. The Sage's artifact shook violently from Sylvia's wrist and began to glow a dull red. The hall erupted in anxious chatter. A third member of the guard came to pull Prince Aldrich away, and Prince Hendrick beside Gwen stood up with a look somewhere between confusion and disgust.
Gwen stood as well, her eyes again darting between Sylvia and Eleonora. No... what were the chances of that...? But as the queen and prince were pulled away, the artifact quieted. An artifact that was given to Gwen to warn her of her father – but was that really the Sage's intention? Better question - was the reason Glikore sent them to Miredom really to deliver pesticides? Why else would he help her so enthusiastically – go against her father's wishes with none of the fear Khusha held? And to swap their clothing... maybe that was why -
“Sylvia!” Gwen called, and Sylvia spun to face her, her eyes narrowed and her lips still curled into a snarl. “Your – your mother, who was she?”
Sylvia scoffed. “Not that wench,” she nodded toward the queen, who was gripping the arms of her guard and glaring maliciously between Gwen and Sylvia, “if that's what you think this piece of sh*t is implying.” She shook her wrist with a frustrated huff. “Her name was Renate Edelstein. She died when I was four.”
“What?” Gwen heard Hendrick exclaim. Similar mutterings echoed around the chamber, and Gwen wracked her brain to figure out why that name was familiar to her.
“Renate...” Gwen said. The whisperings of the Lochesterians were helping jog her memory. Eleonora looked horrified. “Wait – King Siegfried's late wife?!”
“How do you know that?” Eleonora demanded, breaking free of her guard and stomping toward Gwen with a panicked fury that Gwen had never seen on a person's face before. “That was not public information.”
Gwen tried to stay stoic. “I'm hardly a member of the public - ”
“Besides!” Eleonora practically screamed, “Renate had no children! My brother died childless!”
Gwen rose a little taller, though she still hadn't fully processed what she was about to say. “The bracelet on her wrist is a Zlelmore artifact. It vibrates when it's in the presence of direct blood relatives!” The Lochesterian army was staring at her incredulously. “Atop Sylvia's head is a crown that belongs to your kingdom through her birthright – and atop Eleonora's head is the crown that belongs to Sylvia!”
“Shut your mouth!” Eleonora snapped as the advisors and guard shifted uncomfortably. “This whole deal – this was a setup!” she seethed.
Gwen was starting to have the same thoughts about this being a setup, albeit one by Zlelmore, but she grinned with a new, wild confidence and drew her sword. “She is your queen!” Gwen yelled, pointing it to Sylvia and nodding her head respectfully before swinging it around to gesture to the rest of the room. “Bow to her! And unless you wish to marry me, Eleonora, our deal is off!”
“Enough of this nonsense!” Eleonora hissed. “Guards, seize the princess!” The corner of her mouth twitched into a twisted smile. “And kill the rest!”
Gwen spun around, about to tell her party to run, but the guards were hurriedly securing the doors to the room. It was them against an army – literally. “Call them off,” Gwen demanded, looking in panic at the others before turning back to Eleonora. “It's over, Princess – I know the truth, and unless you wish to kill me too, I will ensure the realm is well informed of it!”
“Nobody will believe you!” Eleonora screeched. “The realm thinks you've lost your head – even your own father wouldn't take you at nothing more than your word! Birthright be damned, I won't allow a werewolf to lead my people... guards!”
Gwen took a shaky breath as the Lochesterian soldiers advanced, then she looked back at her comrades with a nod. They were outnumbered, but they had strengths that the Lochesterian army simply wasn't prepared to deal with – so long as Raleigh was an odd exception and not a rule they'd kept buried deep under layers of prejudice. “Guards!” Gwen yelled, raising her sword. She sure as hell wasn't going to let them fight alone. “Attack!”
