Libramentum

Chapter Two

Eleanor swore that she had locked the door after the tailor had left. She spun around, much to her own dismay and shock to see two figures in her chambers, across the misting baths. She immediately fixated on the glowing amethyst eyes across the pools that explained how they had gained entrance without her realizing. Taliyah had spoken true when she stated that the sorceress would see her when she chose.

The woman was tall and lean, her hair tumbling down in thick raven curls. Eleanor identified that the woman’s appearance belonged to those in a mummer’s group, traveling gypsies that presented songs and plays for coin. Their kind had come oft enough to her own home and she recalled enjoying the shows they had to put on. Their people were categorized by their dark raven hair, often curly or wavy, and their vibrant eyes. Their skin was often tanned by the sun and tattooed in strange manners that meant more to the mummers than anyone else. The tattoos were solid black and took form in geometrical features, lines, squares, and triangles. While Eleanor could not see any on the sorceress, she saw that the man who flanked her had them on his large biceps.

“I apologize for intruding, but you must forgive me for my curiosity. It’s been quite some time since I have met another gifted with magick,” the woman said, her accent akin to the mummers that Eleanor had pinned her to.

“It’s quite alright, though I believe a knock on the door would suffice just as much next time,” she said, her eyes flitting between the mage and her partner, who towered over her by more than a head. He reminded her of her father of a sort, other than the fact that her father was nowhere near as muscular as he was. Perhaps her father had been in the past, but now he possessed a gut to match, and this man was pure muscle. His hair was much longer than fashion dictated for men, rolling past his shoulders in dark waves, flecked by strands of premature silver. His beard was close to his face, but twisted wildly as if he didn’t care to maintain it. His eyes, despite the darkness of his hair, were a bright hazel. Between the mage and warrior, Eleanor could see the similarities. They were related in some form.

Eleanor crossed the manse to greet the two of them, her skirts billowing around her. “Would you prefer a glass?” she asked, gesturing the wine.

“Please,” the sorceress requested, strolling forward to meet her at the table.

Eleanor poured the glass, surprised to see that her own hand was shaking. She spilled a couple of drops before placing the decanter back on the table, offering he goblet to the strange woman. 

The sorceress took the glance and pressed it to her dark lips, drinking deeply, her eyes boring in Eleanor’s. She removed the glass, exhaling delightfully before saying, “I have heard little of you, aside from the exchange in the courtyard today. And I must admit, I have been eager to meet you.”

Eleanor took a sip from her own glass to quell her nerves. This was a conversation that could turn out to be much more dangerous than the one with her cousin. “I’ve heard much about you and I must admit, I’ve been just as eager.”

“I am Ilsmera Daltheon,” she extended her hand out for a shake.

Tentatively, Eleanor accepted. The moment they locked hands, she regretted her decision. A spark light lightning ignited between them, causing the glass in her hand to clatter to the ground and shatter. Images flitted in front of her eyes, so quickly and without pause, that it was difficult to make them out. However, the feeling within her, she could feel that the power the Ilsmera possessed a much more potent and dangerous than her own, despite the woman only being a handful of years to a decade older than herself.

Drawing away, Eleanor cradled her hand as if it had been injured. “You’ve never met another mage, have you?” Ilsmera asked her. 

Eleanor, aware she could not hide her shock, nodded slowly.

“It’s always different between each of us, but I see now what you are, as you see me. You’re a healer, though I fear your skill is not being fully implemented. I see you are aware of how to heal, but your skills in defense are not what they could be. Many think that a healer cannot do much, but in fact, you’re able to create wards and defensive spells much stronger than any of those I could dream of.”

“And you possess destructive magic in the form of ice, specifically. You are versed in other forms, but ice is your specialty,” Eleanor replied.

Ilsmera acknowledged her, drawing the chair back so that she could sit down. “There’s not enough of us mages for us to be at odds with one another. We’re both of polar skills and I shall tell you now, that due to your birth, you will the the prime candidate for courtage.”

“I have little interest in being courted right now,” Eleanor admitted as she lowered herself into her chair, her hand still quivering a bit. “I came here to learn, first and foremost.”

“Amiable, but there’s going to be a lot of pull from the other side. I know that the royal family is very interested by your arrival, thus… this,” she gestured to the room around them. “But for the coin they pay me to be loyal, I must admit, that my first loyalty is to my brother and family, and then those others like me. We’re a rare breed, Lady Blacktyde.”

“Eleanor,” she informed her, feeling that the titles were too much between them. “I understand where you come from, but until I can truly rely upon you, you must excuse my caution. Especially, since you arrived in my locked room without prompting.”

Ilsmera’s eyes brightened at her words. “Yes, sorry, I was quite excited to meet you and I didn’t want prying eyes to notice. There are a lot of servants who report to an ensemble of various ladies and lords, most of all to the queen. Magick is the easiest way to pass them all without notice.”

“Even so…” she drawled to make her point.

“Already cautious in court, you’re a wiser lady than I’d thought,” she grinned, glancing up at the man who stood behind her. “Forgive me, this is my brother Draqio.”

The enormous man, who might have rivaled even her father’s height, gave her courteous bow. “Good evening, my lady,” he greeted in a thickly accented, deep voice.

“I noticed you presented your surname. That is not common among your people,” Eleanor remarked.

Ilsmera nodded, “Yes, we belong to the race of people that are frequently known as mummers and gypsies, although we possess our surname because our family dwells in our homeland of Foraan, rather than traveling nomadically through this kingdom. It is a small land with few nobles, but we are among those few. Not many care to notice our position, be that we are from Foraan, but I am pleased you noticed.”

Foraan was a distant western island that was said to be beautiful and warm. Why anyone would ever come to this kingdom to leave their tropical paradise behind had puzzled her. However, the economy in Foraan was little in comparison and thus the mummers came to make money and pursue their dreams where they could not obtain them back home. 

“I haven’t met many of your people, other than those traveling in troupes. None of which I can recall used their surnames,” Eleanor responded evenly.

“It’s true, our government is a very frail thing. However, that’s a subject for another time. We came here tonight to extend our greetings and meet you. I can see you have skill and as a rare kind, we should stick together. I don’t know how well you trust me, which shouldn’t be much I expect, but I’ve got many spells and wards I could teach you.”

“And what must I pay in return?” she inquired.

Ilsmera’s laughter rang out in the manse. “Nothing, my dear. Other than a mutual understanding that we should look out for one another. As a healer, you could save me from the brink of death and as a sorceress, I can protect you. If I can be assured you shall look after me, I should do the same for you, as your gift is quite priceless. If I can help you hone it to protect my own skin, well then is it truly free?”

Eleanor considered it, swishing her wine around in her glass. At this point, she might have been too drunk to truly agree to the terms, but in exchange for knowledge, promising to heal her did not seem that daunting. “It seems a fair enough trade,” she said eventually.

Her violet eyes glittered. “I’m glad you think so, it shall be beneficial for the both of us. I have a lot of friends in this castle and can keep many more enemies away from you with a look,” Ilsmera promised, a chill raking down Eleanor’s back with her words. “But, you’ve had a long journey and it is late. I’ll keep in contact with you, perhaps for the evening, you should rest.”

Eleanor was almost glad for her to leave. “Thank you, I’m glad for your visit, I was eager to meet you.”

“Ditto,” Ilsmera announced as she stood, glancing up at her enormous brother.

Eleanor rose to bid them adieu, Draqio giving her the kindest look since the both of them had arrived. “Good night, my lady,” he bid as he and his sister departed from her chambers.

The moment the sorceress had left, the air in the chamber seemed to become lighter. Eleanor exhaled her nerves and set the glass on the table, considering that the evening was at an end. Despite it all, the evening had proven fruitful. She had come to an agreement with her cousin, had arranged for a stark wardrobe with the tailor, and had also met the woman who might provide any new knowledge and make her life difficult. 

And now I’ve only got to deal with royalty on the morrow. Shouldn’t be too bad in comparison, no? 

Eleanor dragged herself across the chamber, losing pieces of her attire as she moved. She collapsed into bed in her small clothes, pulling the blankets up enough to shelter her ride before closing her eyes, dozing off immediately.

The most gentle, “My Lady” stirred her from her slumber that had been dreamless. Light filtered in through the thin silken shades, illuminating the enormous chamber. A handmaiden had come to wake her, somehow gaining access to the room. Eleanor noted that she’d have to go around, finding out how that had been possible. It was also just as likely that she had forgotten to lock the door, but she hadn’t thought herself so careless.

“Ah, yes, sorry,” she muttered, sitting up, her head pounding. She stifled a gasp, but her wincing expression was enough for the servant to garner that she’d been in her cups last evening. 

“A few parcels have been delivered for you,” the young woman told her, a youth around the same age as Taliyah. “I’ve come to help you prepare for breakfast with the royal family. They request your presence to extend a proper greeting.”

“Very good, I should probably bathe then. Where are the parcels of which you spoke?” she asked, standing, pulling down a sheer robe to hide herself in, even though she was only going to remove it to bathe. Before the handmaiden could answer, she saw a bright cerulean box sat on a chair as well as a smaller box that had a ribbon and note tied to it.

Eleanor opened the larger box first, the first dress that had been promised, had been delivered. It was a navy gown that had pearly white embroidery around the hems. Her attention fixated on the deep bodice that plunged daringly on the front of the dress and the soft shoulders that would be bare, rather than covered by fabric. Her fingers ran over the fortified bodice, reinforced with bone or metal to remain stiff. A thick piece of fabric laced up on either side of the neck, thin capped sleeves, rather than full length ones, saving her from sweating in this dreadfully warm weather. 

The smaller box had a note that read, 

‘For another like me, this necklace should suit you just as well. It helps us focus our minds and gifts.

-Ilsmera’

Inside was a necklace of white gold. It was a choker that caged a large sapphire, which would be cradled close to the throat. The moment her fingers grazed the metal, she felt a surge like static against her tips. However, it was obvious that she only touched a necklace. Spinning it round in her hand, she marveled at the creation. Did this help to channel her gifts? She couldn’t be certain until she tested it, but she could feel the warmth within the stone. She’d never felt that of any other piece of jewelry. 

Eleanor decided to dwell on it another time. While it was just past sunrise and a royal breakfast wouldn’t be at the crack of dawn, she had a lot of preparation to do. Washing was the first of it after her journey on the ship. She had been too excited with her arrival to have bathed the evening before. 

She slid into the water and enjoyed the hot spring water. Her nostrils filled with the aromas of the herbs mixed in, some of which she recognized; sage, rose hips, marigold. She used some of the lavender soaps on her skin, the handmaiden helping her wash out her hair that was coated in sea salt. After concluding her bath, she dried and had the girl tie the dress up on her. 

The fit was pristine, coiling around her slender torso with a structured bodice. The neckline plunged dangerously, her small breasts pinned beneath navy brocade. She arranged for the necklace to also be on, as it suited the attire.  Again, she felt the hum against her, now pressed to her throat 

Eleanor’s hair was still drying, but the young woman pulled her long chestnut tendrils away from her face and tied it half-up in an intricate braid. She made mention of using some flowers to accent her hair, but Eleanor settled for a sliver hair pin in the likeness of an orca, possessed by an opal eye. While she liked flowers, she didn’t think going to a breakfast was really the occasion to adorn herself with such.

By the time they concluded, dabbing lavender extract on her pits, between her breasts, and against her throat, morning was well in full swing. As if being summoned, a rap stirred the handmaiden from applying rouge to Eleanor’s cheeks. She went to the door, hesitating to see if Eleanor would allow her to answer it. The Blacktyde nodded her head, standing so that she could admire her attire in the full length looking glass she had next to the vanity. The woman standing there was not the silky girl who left home just three days before, she looked as if she belonged in court. 

“Lady Eleanor, your escort is here,” the handmaiden told her, opening the door so that Eleanor could see the visitor. She had half been expecting to see her cousin, but was greeted by an unfamiliar face.

A knight, or at least she assumed he was by his sword belt in the castle, stood in a forest green doublet. Sewn upon the breast was a golden shield, a silver fox curled within with a holly branch full of berries in its mouth. Eleanor recognized the sigil as that of the Hollyhocks, a house tied to the royal family by marriage. They possessed a great deal of forest throughout the kingdom as well, to the west of her own home, nestled beneath the mountains.

Ser Hollyhock might have been her senior by a handful of years, if even that. He had dark auburn hair, that was nearly brown, aside from a few strawberry gold highlights. It was parted carefully to the side, a few loose curls licking his ears and the nape of his neck. A carefully maintained beard was cropped close to his face, while a strong nose and heavy brows sat over stormy eyes. 

“Good morning Lady Eleanor, I was sent to retrieve you for breakfast with the royal family. I am Ser Athalos Hollyhock,” he greeted, only barely crossing the threshold into her manse. 

Eleanor didn’t keep him waiting, giving the handmaiden a gracious nod for her work that morning, before taking the knight’s arm. “A pleasure,” she greeted as they departed. She couldn’t help her eyes, again scanning her surroundings as she attempted to absorb the details she had not managed to notice yesterday. 

“How are you enjoying the castle so far?” he asked her as they walked.

“Certainly a bit different from what I’m used to, but what I’ve seen so far is lovely, though I expect I’ve only just scratched the surface of my experiences here,” she replied. “I apologize if I seem like a child gaping, I haven’t seen artistry such as this. My own home is… salt and brine, strong, but simple.”

“I must admit, my home is not like this either. I expect most places are not, Goldenhour has been being ‘improved’ for more than a millennia.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what is your home like?”

Ser Athalos seemed a bit taken aback by her question, as if no one had bothered to ask him before. “Deep in the woods, a plain stone keep. It rivals Goldenhour in size, with walls nearly 100 feet high to protect from siege. It is plain, there’s not any mines other than iron and copper in the proximity, and thus most creations are of wood, iron, and steel. However, when the great halls were built, woodworkers wrought intricate knots and designs into every oaken door, pillar, and molding.  It’s not as… colorful or extravagant as the gold work here, but I used to get lost as a child, looking at all of the scenes of battle depicted.”

“Being made of gold doesn’t make it better,” Eleanor argued lightly.

“There are a great deal of people that would beg to differ,” the knight replied. “Do you like the work here more than your home?”

Eleanor pondered the question for a moment. “More? I like it, because I’ve never seen it before, but it’s like comparing apples to oranges. Extravagance belongs here, back home… It doesn’t need it, but then again, my home is not for entertaining nobles and people of import very often, thus it does not require the art to do its job. In Goldenhour, this art and masonry is expected, as it is the kingdom’s seat of power and power is often displayed in coin. The art contests their power and the coin it took to create it all, even if it was created hundreds of years ago.”

“It is lovely, but it suits a purpose, I agree,” he drawled off. “How much of the keep have you seen?”

“Only as much as the path to my chambers. I heard there were gardens too, but I’ve yet to see those.”

“We’re headed in that direction, perhaps later you will get a better chance to explore it, but breakfast is to be held in the garden nook.”

“Will you be joining us or are you just my escort?”

“It depends,” Athalos said carefully. 

On what? She wondered, but did not ask aloud, noticing that a more stern expression fell across his face.

They had headed down the stairs that held the high caste chambers and down through another hall toward the rear of the inner sanctum. Another drawbridge exited the rear of the sanctum and led back to the out castle. However, this area appeared to be more specifically for the garden. Creeping ivy and flowers grew on pillars and windows were open, allowing for a breeze to travel in constantly. She spotted the gardens in the rear, over the balconies that dropped about 15 foot. 

The pair headed down a staircase that led into the cusp of the gardens that seemed to sprawl on endlessly behind the castle. However, she knew it would have to end, as the walls would eventually encompass all of the area. Due to the tall hedges and trees, it was difficult to place where the end truly was. 

Eleanor might have spent her time inspecting the flowers if she did not see the entrance to the gazebo, leading to what she assumed was the breakfast nook. It was a circular dining area that was situated beneath a canopy of creeping myrtle, violet blooms winking at them. The growth certainly appeared wild, but upon inspection, it was clear a gardener was certain that the entrance to the nook was cleared of tendrils. 

The table was set for five, although none had arrived. 

They only had to wait for a few minutes before an entourage of servants flocked behind an auburn haired woman. Her gown was a brilliant gold, a print blending expertly to give the appearance of shimmering, as if the fabric were not fabric, but tiny golden dragon scales. A pure gold mantle sat on her slender hips, a large brown diamond glittering within the center. A thin circlet rode on her brow, her hair tied away in lovely braids that spiraled down her back and past her waist. Age only marred the queen slightly, much less than Eleanor’s own mother. If she had not known better, she would have assumed the queen was of similar age, but this woman was closer to her mother than her.

Following her, was a young woman in her likeness, a miniature version of the queen. Her auburn hair was tied high, a circlet riding on her brow, but she wore a sky blue dress embroidered with gold. The girl appeared to be like on the cusp of her teenage years and yet she was extremely lovely.

Two men also followed, but only one possessed his mother’s auburn hair. The younger of the two might have been a little older than Taliyah, adorned in a shiny brown doublet a black eagle trimmed in gold emblazoned upon his breast. He wore a sword belt of extreme decadence, making up for his plainer attire. How anyone thought a belt of garnets, gemstones, and gold was of any proper fashion other than to prove wealth, then it did so ungracefully.

His older brother had a wash of dark hair, falling albeit messily to his shoulders. A beard crested his face and Eleanor thought of him of similar age to his cousin, Athalos. She assumed this was the crown prince, Lucan, who adorned himself in a black doublet, leather trousers, and a mundane sword belt. The only wealth he adorned was the golden eagle brooch over his heart. 

A smile oozed on the queen’s face, so large that she had thought it strained. But before Eleanor could even speak or address her, the queen was upon her like a cat on a hare. “Ooh, lovely Lady Eleanor, I have been so eager to meet you,” Queen Ayenna said as she embraced her without hesitation. 

Eleanor could not even hide the shock on her face, just managing to recover as the queen broke away from her. She found herself looking down at the woman due to their difference in height. “It is my honor, your grace,” she told her, an automatic reply.

“I love your dress!” the princess exclaimed as she rounded the corner, peeking over her mother’s skirts to eye Eleanor. “Mother, I want one just like it,” she declared.

The queen covered her mouth as she chuckled daintily. “Perhaps in a year or so when you blossom into a woman. The dress she wears is that of a woman, not a girl, my dear,” she told her daughter before rounding on her two sons as the princess pouted. “Come now, my sons, and greet Lady Eleanor,” she chastised sweetly.

The younger prince, Luras, ushered in front of his brother. He took Eleanor’s hand, looking her in the eye, as they were of the same height. “It is my pleasure to finally meet you, Lady Eleanor. I’ve heard so much about you despite your recent arrival,” the prince pressed his lips to the back of her hand before smirking up at her. She wondered if he had heard of the bit in the courtyard.

Lucan was more formal, giving her a courteous bow, clasping her hand gently between his rough, calloused ones. 

He must be a skilled fighter, Luras's hands were soft compared to his, she thought.

“Good morning, Lady Eleanor, a pleasure to finally meet a Blacktyde. Your family has always been our most loyal subjects,” he greeted, a kind smile, but no kiss like his brother.

She found that she preferred his greeting more.

“Come darlings, let us enjoy breakfast,” Ayenna announced as she swept herself around the table and took the head position. “I apologize, but King Braeden had other matters to tend to this morning.”

“The king is no doubt busy, I’m gracious that you all have come to receive me. I’d also like to take the time to thank you for my living arrangements as well, they’re quite lovely,” she said, Luras eagerly pulling the chair out for her before seating himself. 

The princess sat to the left of her mother and Lucan to her right. Luras was a buffer between Lucan and his brother, but an empty chair was sat beside princess Lillian. 

“Dear nephew, would you care to join us?” Ayenna entreated, her eyes flickering over to Athalos who had been standing somberly beside the entrance to the nook.

He gave a curt nod. “Thank you, your grace,” he took the seat beside Lillian.

The princess beamed, leaning over her chair to whisper something into her older cousin’s ear. The knight cracked a smile, but only Lillian giggled to herself. 

“How do you like the capitol so far, Eleanor? … Do you mind if I call you Eleanor?”

“No, your grace… And thus far, it’s rather beautiful, though I fear I haven’t been exposed to too much of it,” she informed her. Servants were coming around with a pitcher of fresh juice. Lillian was given something else, but the adults had an orange, fizzy concoction sitting before them. 

“Ah, well you shall have time to experience it. There is so much to see and soon my husband plans to host a tourney as well, to mark the end of a plentiful summer,” the queen said as she lifted the crystal flute to her lips to sip the drink. “Have you had a mimosa before? The oranges are freshly squeezed.”

 Eleanor shook her head, indulging to have the snap of champagne and oranges on her lips. Staring at the glass, she felt as if her eyes reflected the sizzling depths. “It’s wonderful. And that all sounds like it would be a grand time. I’ve heard of tourneys, but have never had the chance to experience one.”

“Ah that’s right!” the queen chimed. “Well, it should be a splendid first experience. I expect a lot of knights and men shall be vying for your token.”

“That’ll make things more difficult then. How long until the tourney? Perhaps I can already begin thinking about who I should give that token to.”

Ayenna smirked. “A few weeks, darling, but I agree, make them work for it. I know many ladies who would simply give away their tokens to a knight they admire, but never just give.”

Eleanor felt as if the queen was hinting at more than just tokens, but she simply smiled at her and took another sip of the mimosa. 

“Well, I might hope that I’d be deserving of your token when the time comes,” Luras announced, his crystal glass already half empty. The servants were just coming now with fresh fruit and crepes to serve. 

“You have a few weeks to earn it, your grace,” Eleanor teased, but instead of a chuckle or a smile, she noticed a flash within the young man’s eyes, as if she were impudent for suggesting such a thing. 

Ayenna broke in before her son could say anything, “Your cousin is already ahead of you, dear. A lady’s token is something you must earn, not demand.”

Luras nodded, resigning himself to silence as he chose which fruits he wanted with his crepes. 

“What are you most excited about?” the queen asked her, continuing their conversation.

“I love to admire the masonry and art around the castle, but I also would like to see the gardens properly as well as the city beneath us. I also wanted to spend some time among the library as well, I’ve heard of how enormous it is, but I’ve yet to glimpse it.”

“Oh, you’re very learned? Or do you prefer novels? Not many ladies spend time around the libraries.”

“I like to read about herbology,” she told the queen, seeing no harm in it. It did not betray anything other than the fact that she was a woman who had interest in studies, rather than fairy tales and stories. “And a few other areas of study.”

“We’ve got an extensive garden here, especially our medicinal gardens. Lucan will have to give you a tour of the gardens after breakfast, it is very easy to lose yourself among the hedges,” the queen said loftily, gesturing to the greenery around them. 

Eleanor caught a glimpse of the crown prince shuffling in his chair. She had not heard of the prince being betrothed, but what she knew of him was that he was his father’s son. King Braeden was a man cultured by war, who prized his military above all else. In all truth, Eleanor didn’t expect to see him anytime soon and had doubted she would even see Lucan, but with the queen’s suggestions she had a feeling that a suggestion for them to grow close was being implied. 

He didn’t bare it blatantly, but Eleanor expected that the prince was too involved with his father’s work and didn’t have time for a wife just yet. He didn’t attempt to dress himself up for their first meeting and nor did he add to the conversation. It was Luras who was more eager to garner her attention.

Am I really worthy of a prince? Well, mother wouldn’t look down on me if I were to become the next queen, would she? She thought, staring at her crepes. But did she want to be queen? She barely wanted to pursue marriage, let alone have to bother with the pleasantries and fashion of court at all times. The capitol had proven nice thus far, but Eleanor was not certain she wanted to spend the rest of her life there as her sister did.

“I wouldn’t wish to take the prince away from any business he might need to tend to today,” Eleanor objected. 

“I could take her instead, mother,” Luras obliged, much to her chagrin.

“No, it’s quite alright. It would be my pleasure,” Lucan said evenly.

The rest of breakfast was spent talking about nothing in particular. The queen fussed about her children, made mentions of court, and how excited she was to have Eleanor in court. 

“If you ever are in need of anything, darling, just ask,” the queen told her, before she and her daughter parted ways and Eleanor was handed off to Lucan.

While she was glad to finally be away from the tense breakfast, she had half hoped she might have ended back up with Ser Athalos. He had been a deal easier to speak with than any of the royal family, despite the queen’s charisma. 

No conversation passed between them as they walked the paths in the gardens and she did not try to force one. Instead, her eyes flitted between the various plants she had read about in books, but never had the chance to see. She made mental notes, knowing she’d have to come back alone to properly admire the vegetation. 

“I apologize if I seem callous, my lady, but I believe my mother has a manner of thinking that what she wills, will always happen,” Lucan broke out eventually. 

Eleanor inclined her head toward him slightly. “Well, she is the queen.”

Lucan snorted. “Yes and I have evaded marriage thus far, I do not intend to surrender my will to the court anytime soon. I do not know you, but I have no intention of marrying you.”

“And I have no intention of being married off upon my arrival. I have my own reasons for wishing to be here and marriage is certainly not paramount among those.”

“Really? You’re the first I’ve heard claim that, though you ladies all say one thing and mean another,” the prince muttered suspiciously. 

“Am I the same as other ladies?”

Lucan gave her a hard look, his eyes reflecting her own. He paused, the hardness slipping from his face. “I cannot say for sure, but… You mentioned the library. Coming here must be the first exposure you’ve had from others with magick, no?”

“I’ve never met another mage, at least, not until last night,” Eleanor shrugged.

“Your kind is a rare breed, another reason why my mother wishes to collect you.”

A shiver went down her spine. “Collect?”

Lucan turned toward the flowers in front of them. “You see all these? Before, the garden was just an overgrown mess, not necessarily tended in any particular way. When she became queen, she had it all reworked to her specifications so that rare plants could be planted and admired. She refers to it as her collection… or at least one of them. You see, my mother likes to have collections of things and people. She likes her collections of plants, her collections of dresses, her collections of jewelry, and her collections of ladies. You are the only lady with magick and you come from a prestigious house, so it is only natural that my mother would want to collect you as well.”

“Is that necessarily a bad thing?”

“It depends on where you stand in court. My mother is a powerful ally to have, but many make the mistake of becoming hers. If you keep her on her toes, keep her vying, you have a better chance of staying in her good graces, rather than those who willingly submit to her. After all, court can get quite boring and those who roll over and pander toward her, well they’re collected, not much worth other than to fancy once in a while. It’s the rare white elk the hunter always pursues, ever intrigued by the prospect of one day calling it their own; mounting it.”

Eleanor tried to shake the image from her mind, her own head mounted on the wall, in a room with many others, while the queen sipped at her wine and admired them all. Then it struck her. “What do you have to gain from warning me of this?” She recalled that nothing in court was free and if it seemed so, there had to be some malicious intent behind it. However, when she looked up at Lucan, she saw a man who was exhausted by the morning’s follies. 

“I care little for these games,” he began. “And I also wanted to make my position clear to you. I take no part in these court games and you are new here. It is best you hear from someone, whether or not you believe me.”

“How oft are you here?” she asked suspiciously.

“Rarely. I’m usually in the field or the royal woods training soldiers. However, with the tourney coming and my mother’s heckling, I’ve made my annual appearance until I am forced here again,” there was a bit of mischief in the prince’s voice.

“I see…. Perhaps when I’ve learned more, I could also be of use in the field,” she speculated.

Lucan arched a brow at her, but not unkindly. He gave a decisive nod. “If you are skilled enough,” he stated, but did not ask what skills she might have to offer.

“Well, if you’ve finished telling me off about how you don’t want to get married, I’ve a question for you, if you don’t mind,” Eleanor beseeched. 

“Go ahead,” he nodded.

“I know you said you’ll be returning to the field, but what of your cousin Ser Athalos?” 

“Oh, already replacing me with him?” the prince mused.

“He was quite easy to talk to and I don’t know many people here,” Eleanor responded, abashed, her cheeks beginning to burn. She hadn’t thought too much about the question, other than the fact she’d have a familiar face to talk to. There were so many nobles she didn’t know that making new ‘friends’ already was a daunting prospect. 

“Of course,” he teased lightly as they continued to walk the gardens. “He is a knight, but we’re not in war. He has no need to be in the field with me, unless summoned. I suppose I could let him know you were asking after him, many ladies do, after all.”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Eleanor huffed, though maybe she wouldn’t have minded Ser Athalos thinking she fancied him. 

“No, I don’t think you did. There’s an innocence about you that I haven’t seen in a long while around here,” Lucan remarked, pausing to look at her. 

Eleanor bristled at the notion, though she should have taken it as a compliment. She was no naive child, so willing to put her trust in others… but as they walked, she realized she had already betrayed more of herself to the prince than anyone else. His callous chatter had smoothed and she’d started to grow fond of his company, despite his aloofness earlier. What if it was all a ploy? Just something to get her guard down, so that later he could tell other nobles how stupid she was? 

When she saw no malice on his face, she decided that she had judged the prince true so far. “Thank… you?” she stammered awkwardly.

“May the Gods preserve it, we need more honest people leading our kingdom, rather than the vipers that dwell here,” Lucan sighed, his free hand rubbing his temple. “Am I boring you? I know you said you had a lot of things you wanted to accomplish while here. I could bring you to the library.”

Eleanor smiled, imagining what books she’d pull first. She had mentioned the herbology books, but in truth, she was more interested in some anatomy scrolls. There had only been limited editions back home and most were frail and unable to be handled. “That would be perfect. I would like to get some studying done and I don’t want to keep you tied up all day, you’ve got your own business to tend to.”

“Then it is decided,” Lucan announced before leading her back through the gardens, up into the terrace, and then back into the castle. They passed a great number of nobles and servants milling about, most clearing out of the way of Lucan like mice before a prowling cat. Their eyes flitted from him, muttering their courtesies, before giving her a curious glance. She thought she spotted a few whispering about her, a mention of her eyes, or the event that happened in the courtyard yesterday, but she didn’t catch much.

The library was less decorated with nobles. Two great doors were opened, a cavernous dome ceiling flying high above them with the night sky and astronomy symbols gilded into the dome. The library was a cylindrical chasm, books lining three stories that were bared to greet those who entered. Light filtered in through three windows that were as tall as the room. A staircase split the library in half, leading up to each individual floor, where she spotted a few people milling around. 

A dusty man in an embroidered blue doublet sat on a stool at a crescent shaped desk at the front of the library. He had a pair of golden spectacles that were covered in speckles, though it didn’t seem to bother him. His sandy grey hair was flopped over his head carelessly, sticking up at if a cow had licked his head a few times over. 

“Jarvais?” the prince requested, clearing his throat.

The elder man wrinkled his heavy mustache, pushing his glasses up his nose. He lifted his eyes from his manuscript and blinked a few times. “Oh- OH DEAR!” the man’s voice was thin and shrill as he nearly flung his papers from his desk as he hurried himself to stand, bowing so furiously that he nearly whacked his head on his desk. “Your grace, what an honor-”

“Calm down Jarvais, you needn’t bother yourself,” Lucan beckoned, waiting for the man to smooth his tailcoats and simmer down. “I’ve brought Lady Eleanor Blacktyde with me. She has an interest in studying some of the books in the library, she’ll be in safe hands with you, no?”

Jarvais glanced in her direction, giving her a look over. He pushed his spectacles up again, c*****g his head as he chewed on a thought.

“Jarvais?” the prince asked again, gently.

“Oh yes, she’ll be most comfortable here. I’ll take good care of her, your grace,” Jarvais promised, finally peeling his eyes from Eleanor. 

“Very well then. Lady Eleanor, this is where we part ways. I wish you luck with your studies and I’ll be certain to mention your name around Athalos,” Lucan bid, releasing her arm as he gave her a courteous smile. He bid farewell to Jarvais before taking his leave.

“Such a great prince. I hope to see the day that he rules, though… long live the current king, of course!” Jarvais sighed wistfully. “What have you come here for, my lady? Some novels of romance or histories of our kingdom?”

Eleanor smiled politely, “Actually, I’ve come for books on anatomy and medicine.”

“Oh!” Jarvais squeaked delightfully. “A very noble topic, a very noble topic indeed. Right this way, my lady, we have an entire area dedicated to human anatomy, medicine, herbology, and theories written by magnificent healers.”

The librarian led her up two tiers of the staircase and to the far left. “Now this section here is on the human body, some of it is very specified, others are more generic. This row entirely is herbology, local and exotic, others are methods on potions and healing concoctions. Is there anything in specific you wanted to look at?”

“Well, I’ve read a great deal of books as it is, but I wanted some more specialized theories.”

“May I ask what you have read?”

Eleanor began listing the titles and authors that she could remember. She spent a lot of her time in the largest of books that had been circulated the most, thus arriving in the library back at her home. She wondered if the little man even knew of the exact books she spoke of, but with each title, he nodded as if he did.

“You certainly are more well read than I might have assumed, most ladies do not bother themselves with codex…. But knowledge is power. While I do possess all of those books, perhaps I can point you to a few to start with. I’ll have to follow up with Wendell the Royal Healer and see what he might suggest as well.”

“Oh, don’t bother the healer on my part,” Eleanor begged.

Jarvais waved his hand. “Why not? If you have knowledge in healing, you should also think about lending your aid to him.”

It was actually a rather good idea that Eleanor had contemplated, but not known how to initiate. “Perhaps… You could put a word in with him, then? You’re right, I don’t just read to learn, I do want to do something with my knowledge.”

Jarvais’ kind smile brought one to her own lips as he pulled a few books down for her. “Of course, I’ll let him know, and perhaps he’ll reach out to you soon. Start with these and let me know if I can get anything for you, my lady.”

The elder then left her to a stack of half a dozen books. She found a comfortable velvet chair and took her place, beginning with a book titled: Specialized Draughts of Healing.