The Jade Star of Athering

Queen Yarrow

Queen Yarrow

Watching Agate leave the room, Yarrow wondered whether she'd made the right decision. She knew very little about the bellica of the thirteenth regiment – certainly didn't know her personally. Agate had been instrumental in the victory against Lord Exsil Vis' invading forces six months ago, a fact Yarrow had not overlooked in her search for the right bellica for the job. However, something suggested to her that Agate couldn't be trusted.

"Ye're jumpin' a shadows, Yarrow," came a voice, thick with the Harbourtown accent, from behind the Queen. Yarrow turned to regard Anala, one of her oldest friends, as the woman emerged from the curtain she'd stood behind during the meeting with Agate.

"Only Caelum could ever read me that easily, Anala," she said, and was pleased there wasn't even a tremor in her voice at the mention of his name.

Anala merely shrugged and came closer. "I ken someone needs ta take over 'is job now 'e's gone. Else ye'd never take care o' yerself." Her smile was strained, and Yarrow knew the memory of that day was still fresh for her friend.

Her infant daughter decided to finish nursing at that moment. Yarrow passed Kaela to the girl's Goddess-mother so she could stand and re-tie her peplos. Anala rocked and soothed the child, as natural with children as Yarrow wasn't. She watched her friend with a small pang of jealousy, wishing she felt the same ease with her own daughter.

As if sensing her thoughts, Anala looked up from Kaela's face and locked gazes with Yarrow. Anala probably had sensed her thoughts. Now Yarrow felt guilty.

"Dinnae worry about it, Yarrow. I spent my childhood raisin' Mara. Ye never had the opportunity. It'll come easier, with time."

Yarrow gave a small huff of laughter and took her seat at her desk again, for her abdomen had started to hurt. The stitches had not fully healed yet. Ghia, her cousin, would have helped the process along despite Yarrow's protestations that she could handle it, had the younger woman not been herself laid up after giving birth. Magea Rosa, Ghia's mentor, had accepted Yarrow's protestations at face value and not lent any healing energy. So Yarrow suffered through the pain and endured being forbidden to drink until nursing ended. The latter proved incredibly frustrating for a woman who used to drink whiskey for breakfast.

Well, I won't be able to do that now, even after Kaela's been weaned. Not proper behavior for a Queen. She wished she was still just a bellica, without such sour thoughts.

Anala laughed out loud, softly so as not to wake the now sleeping Kaela, and placed the baby back in the crib before taking a seat opposite the Queen.

Yarrow tapped her skull with her fingers. "Are you prying?"

"Nae. I cannae, ye ken that. Ye just broadcast loudly." Anala's smile was unrepentant, and Yarrow muttered something about 'damnable Magi' before moving on to what she'd wanted to ask the younger woman.

"You trust Agate then?"

Anala shrugged and looked at the door where the bellica had left. "She's got a past, tha's fer sure. But I dinnae see nary a reason ta distrust her over it."

Yarrow pursed her lips and tapped her fingertips against her desk. "She lied to me about the Ixile'a language. I could tell."

"Aye, and more than her lie ta ye everyday. Ye're the Queen, Yarrow. Best get used to it." Anala shrugged and brushed imaginary lint off her outfit. Now that she was back in Athering she wore dress grays, though she was no longer in the military. She'd told Yarrow she was sick and tired of those court peploi she had to wear in Voco as she cemented her rule as Lady Exsil Vis. Vocans had some strange ideas about women's dress, it seemed. Anala and her younger sister Miranda had to appear in peploi or some sort of fustanella for women at all times if they wanted to be accepted as Lord Exsil Vis' daughters and, therefore, the rightful heirs to the throne.

"How is Miranda doing?" Yarrow asked, her thoughts now on Anala's strange family.

Anala shrugged again. "Fine when she'd just be around me, but she cannae stand Lares. I've tried ta make it clear that where I go, he goes, but she still finds evra' opportunity ta be a right pain in me arse about it."

"But she's stopped trying to kill you two, at least."

"Oh, aye, we stopped that months ago. Poor child. She's had a rough time o' it."

Yarrow nodded, for she knew all too well what Miranda had gone through. The child was only eleven years old and she'd already suffered years of abuse at the hands of her father – and then the death of both parents. Anala had been rehabilitating the girl, for someday Miranda had to rule as Lady Exsil Vis. It proved slow going.

Briskly, Yarrow shook her head to clear it and felt her loose, short curls brush softly against the nape of her neck. Her mind was wandering, again, thanks be either to stress or lingering effects of pregnancy -- or both. The job of Queen is just a wealth of new experiences, she thought sardonically. Why did I want this, again?

"So 'ave ye given thought to a contingency plan, as ye told Agate ye had?" Anala asked, cutting into Yarrow's thoughts as they took another detour.

Yarrow nearly guffawed, but resisted, not to wake her daughter. "No. I have no fecking clue what to do if Agate fails."

Anala smiled and leaned forward. "What do ye say we put our heads together, like we did as bellicas, for old times' sake?"

"Oh, I thought you'd never ask." Yarrow breathed out a sigh of relief as Anala laughed. The two women, who were as close to opposites as they could get while still remaining friends, set to their task. It was not so different from when they'd been bellicas alongside each other, and for that the Queen was grateful.