Squall's End

Claire's eyes darted around the large meeting chamber. Its center was dominated by a table of dark wood. It was only filled with three people, presumably one of them Lord Rhal. It was easy to pick out nobility once you knew what to look for. Mostly, it was their fine clothes and the ever-present air of superiority.

Lord Rhal sat at the head, and two other men sat beside him on his right. Advisors, most likely. At her entrance, chairs scraped and the three occupants shot to their feet. Her eyes lingered over Lord Rhal. He was handsome. Younger than she'd expected, too. A brief flicker of realization. This was the lord Tamara had told her about. The one her parents had tried to marry her off to, before she'd run away.

"Your Majesty," he said, his wide eyes darting over her, lingering on the places her Sprite markings stood out. "This is an unexpected surprise!"

"She doesn't speak our tongue," the steward warned, his haughty tone lingering in the air, as if her inability to speak their language was an inconvenience. She tried not to bristle at the implication. If that were the case, and she could only speak Ednuar, it didn't make her any less because of it. There would always be people like him, people who carried underlying prejudices they didn't realize they possessed.

She almost opened her mouth to correct him. Almost. Then she thought better of it. No harm in waiting just a little longer. Besides, it was the steward's mistake for making the naive assumption.

"Gods above. Is that so?" Lord Rhal asked, blinking, taken aback. "Do any of them?"

"That one there," the steward said, pointing at Feowen. Except, everyone in her party could, but again, he didn't know that. He'd merely made an assumption based on how they looked, based on their race. That was his mistake. "Forgive me, sir," he added, looking at Feowen. "I don't believe I caught your name."

"Ah," said Feowen. Her negotiator smiled his most charming smile, but beneath it, there was a subtle threat. Feowen was a powerful being, thousands upon thousands of years old. Older, even, than the Drengr who lived today. He took a single step forward. "I am Prince Feowen. This is my cousin, Her Majesty, the Queen of the Sprites. You may address her as Your Majesty, and nothing less. You may address me as Your Highness, or...Prince Feowen. I am also the captain of her guard. And behind us, the rest of her guard."

Lord Rhal's eyes darted over them, mouth hanging slightly agape. "And..." His throat bobbed. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. "You really are Sprites?"

Feowen's gaze darted to hers, a single brow lifting. "Utah aik amdah? Gaanih lit outah lamenahi?" he asked, and she didn't miss the scorn in his voice. Is he blind? Can he not see our markings?

"Sincid, Feowen. Canmah sasam sasa jiasin," she scolded, shooting him a look. Hush, Feowen. Allow them their surprise.

"We are indeed Sprites, my lord," Feowen said, his voice turning sugary sweet with politeness. "My queen says she is pleased to meet you," he added. Because that was obviously not what she'd said.

Lord Rhal bobbed his head, his eyes darting between them. He wasn't sure who to address, now. At last, he said, "Not that I am not pleased—honored even—by your visit, Your Majesty, but...things are dire here. I fear this could be dangerous for everyone, having you in our city. May I..." He hesitated, clearing his throat, as if working up the courage. "May I inquire into the reason for your visit?"

Feowen turned to her, arms casually clasped behind his back. "Ynim mi eanish eah malioh eah trighah stahka, uen aeth aya laail taventa?" he asked, straight-faced, as if he really were translating. Am I meant to pretend to translate all of that, or did you catch everything?

She almost snorted. What a smart-ass. Behind her, one of her guards actually did snort, quietly. No doubt they were finding this entire charade quite hilarious, whether they realized why she was doing it or not.

But Feowen was right. This was getting tedious. The ruse was mostly for the people of Squall's End, anyway. It was they who would pass on the word. It would eventually reach every person in the city. And in time, the world would know that it wasn't just the Dwargs, but also the Sprites, who came to the aid of the Drengr.

"We are here to protect you," Claire said, stepping forward.

Lord Rhal's eyes bulged and he took a step back. Then his face turned red. He threw a nasty glare at his steward. "I thought you said she couldn't understand us?!" he hissed.

The steward sputtered in shock, embarrassment even. Good. Perhaps he'd think twice next time about making rash assumptions about other people.

"It is quite all right, my lord," she cut in smoothly. "It was a simple mistake. I merely did not wish to address you until now."

As was her right, as queen, after all. If she'd really wanted, she could deign speaking with them entirely. But she wasn't that sort of queen, and certainly didn't want to give that impression.

"As I said, we are here for your protection. The Drengr plan to reclaim the fort in the coming days, and we are here to ensure that your city does not succumb to fire, as it did before."

Lord Rhal's brows pulled low. "And...and you can do that?"

"Of course, my lord. Between myself and my guard, I am certain. We will weave enough protective magic over the city to keep everyone safe. Not even a single ember will pass through our wards."

His mouth opened and closed several times. Perhaps he realized, in that moment, that there would be no arguing. That nothing he said would hamper their plans. Or perhaps, he understood better than anyone, the state of things, that his city was bursting at the seams with refugees who'd fled their homes in fear of dragons, only to be taken captive by them in the city. Whatever the reason, he nodded. "We would be most appreciative, Your Majesty."

"Good. Then, let us begin. There are many things to discuss." With that, she strode further into the room, stopping behind the chair opposite Lord Rhal's. Feowen rushed forward, pulling it out for her. She would have done it herself, but it wouldn't have appeared queenly. She took a seat, propping her staff against the table's edge beside her, then inviting her guards forward to join them.

Lord Rhal glanced about, looking between his two advisors, whom he hadn't yet introduced, then took his seat while they followed suit. As if sensing this blunder, he rushed to say, "This is Kevin Pendra and Yusuf Adel, my advisors. And you've already met my steward, Nigel Mitchum. Is there something we can get you? Refreshment, perhaps? I assume you've been on the road, traveling for a good deal of time?"

Not the amount of time he probably assumed.

"Thank you. Shalaya. And yes, we have," she answered. "Refreshments would be most welcome." She considered simply using magic to summon goblets and water, as a show of her abilities, but decided there was no need to flex. Her abilities would be known soon enough.

Lord Rhal gave the steward a look and he rushed off. She used this opportunity to launch into their plan, explaining what Dragonwall's king had done, and where the Sprites played into everything. She left a good deal of information out, only giving him the necessary basics. He'd find out the rest from Talon, once the fort had been reclaimed.

Servants entered carrying trays laden with pitchers of water, wine, and an assortment of pastries. She was starving, so she helped herself to a goblet of water and a few of the fancy rolls. Her guards politely waited, holding back until she finished, before also taking part. It left her uneasy, this level of formality. Something she should probably be used to, but struggled with.

A good queen adapted, but she had trouble doing that. The attention, being treated differently, everyone putting her before themselves, it was all so...foreign. Reyr said she was meant to be queen, that it was a part of her, but if he was right, why did it often feel like such a struggle?

With the majority of their plans discussed, she turned to other matters. "Tell me of the fire and your losses," she said, looking at Lord Rhal. "We passed through the section of city on our way to your keep. It was...upsetting."

His face paled. "We lost nearly everyone in that area," he said, voice pained. "By the time the fire was upon us, there was no way for them to evacuate. Dragonfire burns hot and it burns fast."

"There were no survivors, then?"

"Nearly five hundred dead. Only twenty five survivors, those on the fringes of the damaged areas, and their burns were significant." Her stomach churned. "Our healers have done what they can, but their scarring will be unfortunate."

"My people may be able to help," she said. In fact, she was certain of it. But she didn't want to boast or make bold claims. So she only hinted at the possibility.

"We would be most grateful for any aid," he said, nodding.

"And you will assist the survivors beyond their healing needs? Replace lost belongings, ensure they have a home, et cetera?"

"Of course. We have city funds from taxes to cover those things," he said, waiving a hand.

She hesitated, then nodded, letting it go for now. When things calmed, she'd have Talon speak with him on the matter, ensure those who'd suffered were indeed taken care of, properly compensated. Until then, they had larger, more pressing matters—

"Our queen will require adequate lodging for the night, while we wait for King Talon's arrival," Feowen said, interrupting her thoughts. "Your best room, if you have it."

Her head whipped around. "Bih sassih gendlla, Feowen?" Was that necessary, Feowen?

He offered a casual shrug, also answering in Ednuar, "We've been traveling half the day. I intend to make sure you're taken care of, Cousin."

She sighed, turning back to Lord Rhal. "What my cousin means is, we would be most grateful if you have a place for us to pass the night."

The plan was to wait until dawn the following day. Talon would give her the signal when he approached with his horde of Drengr. Until then, they intended to make the appropriate arrangements here.

"Of course, Your Majesty. We have several of our guest suites available. Nigel will show you to your rooms."

Everyone rose, and Nigel motioned them forward, leading her from the meeting chamber. Feowen offered to see to the unicorns, and the rest of them left to settle in.

~

It was full dark by the time they were settled. She'd been given a modest suite, with adjoining rooms for her guards. There weren't enough for all of them, so they paired up, assuring her they were plenty fine with the accommodations.

Lord Rhal had invited them to the evening meal in the dining hall. Knowing him, he'd do as any lord would. He'd make an event out of it, celebrating her arrival. She hadn't brought more than the clothes on her back and the cloak used to disguise their journey. They'd opted to travel light. So, that's what she wore now.

As they traversed the corridors, heading down to the lowest floor of the keep, her queen's guard surrounded her, four in front and four in behind, walking in sets of two. She'd selected eight back in Esterpine, when Feowen thought it would be a grand show of Spriten strength to one-up Talon with his six Shields. She hadn't much cared. It was a formality, more than anything. But she was glad to have them, and looked forward to the day when she counted every one of them as a dear friend.

Already, she was getting to know their personalities better.

She felt the most camaraderie with Jeanine because she could relate best to her. They'd bonded over their humanity, even if she wasn't human anymore. But since then, Jeanine had often joined her with the other girls over the past few days, when they had time to gather at camp.

Rahlif Dorvyre was a quiet sort who rarely spoke or smiled. At first, she thought it was because he was too proud. But she caught him wearing small, secret smiles when the others said or did anything worth laughing about, when he thought not one was looking. So she knew there was a sense of humor lurking beneath his ancient exterior.

Elyon Marquis was a fierce fighter, besting even the males. She hadn't known what to expect of Aolis Marquin's daughter. Elyon had a hard exterior, always wore a stern expression, and was quite serious at any given moment. But she had a soft voice and liked the color purple. She wore every shade of it imaginable when she wasn't wearing her Queen's Guard attire.

Filvro Holowyn was a direct opposite to Elyon. She was always smiling, always cracking jokes, sometimes to solicit smiles from Rahlif, since they all knew he was the quietest of the bunch. Of her Spriten guards, Filyro was the one she felt most comfortable around. The woman just had a way about her, like she wanted everyone in her presence to be as comfortable as possible, and would go out of her way to ensure that happened.

Gorded Cawyn was too smart for his own good. He knew far too much about everything, and was a walking brainiac. She could count on him to offer random useless facts about everything when she wanted, and even when she didn't. It was often Feowen who silenced him when it was clear the others couldn't stand another minute of his prattling. But she appreciated his mind.

Aithlin Naeris was the most stunning woman she'd ever laid eyes on. Even more beautiful than Jade had been, with dark hair and pale skin covered in numerous markings, dainty features, crystal blue eyes, and a lush set of lips. But there was no disguising the ferocious way she fought with a Spriten blade. She gave even Eylon a good fight when the two of them sparred. And yet, she dressed less feminine than the other females, and didn't mind getting her hands dirty for the tasks that required it. Claire appreciated that about her. So did some of the other males back at camp, whom she'd caught gazing at her in raptures.

And then there was Jassin Orythra, who spent most of his time pining after Rahlif. She hadn't realized it until she continuously caught him staring at the other Spriten male when he didn't think anyone was looking. Jassin loved singing, and she loved listening to him hum tunes when they walked through camp. Whenever he opened his mouth to sing something in Edunar, she got chills. His voice was haunting, staggering, ethereal. She couldn't wait to make him sing something in the great throne room at Kastali Dun, couldn't wait to hear the way his voice echoed through the cavernous room. Perhaps she'd have him sing something for her bonding ceremony.

Together, they descended the final flight of stairs that brought them to the keep's dining hall. Feowen led the procession from his place in the front. He paused in the entryway, forcing all of them to stop. "All hail the Spriten Queen!" he cried, his voice echoing through the space.

"Mi ynim haruin eah themadar aik rayih gethek haanik sassih," she muttered to Elyon, who at her front right. I'm starting to think he really enjoys doing that.

Eylon snickered and said, "Mi ynim haruin eah thermandar aya kunyn sahwyr," which earned a snort from Filvro, behind her. I'm starting to think you are correct.

Filvro said, "Aik gethlahi ana juhlah nin aiklan eigah rohmme. Uen kansylla aik utah sighir lerah einha." He likes the sound of his own voice. Or perhaps he is merely showing off for someone. Filvro—always the one to make light of things.

Several snickers rippled through her guards. So...it was common knowledge then? The way Feowen felt about Jeanine? It shouldn't have surprised her. Sprites were astute beings. Of course they would have picked up on it.

Feowen must heard the exchange, Sprite ears and all. He glanced over his shoulder, lifting a brow. Then he turned and led them into the dining hall. Jeanine hadn't yet picked up enough Ednuar to know what had been said, but if she got the chance, Claire would tell her later.

She'd asked Jeanine several days ago if it bothered her, that they sometimes spoke a language she didn't understand. She'd shrugged and admitted that it motivated her to learn it, but that it didn't upset her. "As long as you're not whispering things about me," she'd teased, but Claire had assured her they would never do such a thing. And she was certain that Feowen would never allow it either, given how he felt about her.

The nobles gathered in the hall were already on their feet as her procession made its way to the dais. Lord Rhal stood beaming. His arms spread wide. "Welcome, welcome," he said. "Our table here isn't large enough so we've placed seating at the front of those tables there, seats of honor, for those we cannot fit here."

She glanced around and nodded. The lord's table wasn't nearly as large as the one in the great keep of Kastali Dun. This one only seated five. Lord Rhal hadn't yet found a wife to sit beside him. She took the seat at his right, and Feowen at his left. Jeanine sat to her right, and that left one open place at Feowen's left, taken by Filvro. The others took seats at the front of the hall.

Platters were brought forth immediately, but it wasn't the sort of feast she was used to in Kastali Dun. Root vegetables, apples, and warm bread. "We have rationed everything," he explained, noticing the way she looked over the food. "I understand that Sprites do not eat meat."

Ah. That explained the lack of it at the table. "You are most thoughtful, Lord Rhal," she said, confirming.

"Most of what we have left in the city are foodstuffs that can be stored for long periods. Things have grown rather...dire."

"Then it is good we have come," she said, dishing things onto her plate as she spoke. "How much do you have left?"

Feowen kept his hands busy too, but she could tell he was listening intently.

"Enough for, perhaps, two more weeks, unless we further cut rations." He lifted his gaze, glancing about the hall at the nobles that sat within. "It has been a challenge. I do my best to ensure that everyone in the city has enough, but...as you can imagine, those of nobility make the matter difficult for me."

"You mean, they believe they should have more," she answered. He nodded.

"I am sure you can understand the responsibilities of such, being a queen. It is no easy feat, making everyone happy."

"Impossible, I would argue." She knew all too well. It was the thing she hated most about ruling.

"Yes, indeed." He offered her a small smile, eyes lingering over her face. He found her attractive, she realized. She almost snorted. He didn't yet know she was promised to another. Being young, handsome, and opportunistic, he would likely throw himself at her if he felt inclined.

"Will the leftovers go to those in need?" she asked, keeping the conversation moving.

"Yes. Nothing in my city is wasted," he said. "Especially not now. If this experience has taught me anything, it's to be overly cognizant of how food is allocated."

"I can imagine," she mused. "Tomorrow, at first light, I will see that you have an abundance of fruit trees in your courtyard garden."

"Forgive me," he said, brow furrowing. "But I do not understand."

"I will grow the trees and ensure they are heavy with fruit. Liberating your city will not fix your food problems overnight. I do not wish your city to starve."

"But the king—"

"—will have many matters that occupy his time once your city is freed. I can help in this way. I will also see to those who were scarred by the fire, but that must wait until after the dragons are gone, as I wish to have adequate time to work with them."

Lord Rhal's throat bobbed. Again, his eyes darted over her face, lingering. "You are too kind, Your Majesty. I do not know how to...that is to say...thank you. I am grateful."

"Varsik, Ayas Drollaya. Aik bei sin hallah klah ayas codah veh danah," Feowen said, lifting an eyebrow. Careful, Your Majesty. He'll be falling at your feet by tomorrow.

She lifted a brow in return and said to Lord Rhal, "My cousin has just informed me that he will likewise help in this matter."

Feowen snorted, but returned to his food.

Lord Rhal's eyes danced. "Is that really what he said?"

So...he was catching on, then. She offered him a smile. "More or less. Less, perhaps," she lied. He didn't buy it, but still, he grinned.

Dinner passed quickly after that, followed by dessert of warm, spiced wine and sweet custard. They talked of inconsequential things. Mostly, Lord Rhal plied her with questions about the forest. She was all too happy to indulge him. Even Feowen chipped in.

She was glad when it was finally time to retire. Being a queen was exhausting. She had no idea how she'd do it day in and day out, once she returned to Kastali Dun. But that was a problem for another day. For now, all she had to concern herself over was the people of Squall's End. Tomorrow morning would come soon enough. It was the last thought on her mind as she drifted off into a fitful sleep. 

⭐🌟 DON'T FORGET TO VOTE!!🌟⭐

Happy Friday, Bookdragons!

I had so much fun writing this one. I love using the Sprite language. I also really enjoyed getting to know Claire's guards better, and coming up with unique personalities for each of them. I'm hoping that we get to know them even better in time. And who knows...maybe one or two of them will eventually get their own chapters. It's been FOREVER since we've had a new character.

If I were to introduce a brand new character, someone we've never met before, what kind would you want? What Dragonwall race would you want them to be? Where would you want them to hail from? What kinds of stuff would you be interested in learning more perspective about, in terms of Dragonwall daily life? I'm really curious to see what you guys come up with! And who knows, we just might see this character come to life :)

It's been a crazy-busy week for me, but in a good way, I guess. I'm trying to soak up my free time with relaxing. I begin my first 2023 month sprint on February 1st. I'll be writing the entire 4th Lady Witch book in 28 days!! And, ideally, publishing it towards the end of 2023 on Amazon. This one will be skipping wattpad, unfortunately, for contractual reasons with my exclusivity agreement. But it will be available on KU, kindle, and in physical format once it releases.

Hope you all have a great weekend and see you next week!

-Mel