The Wolf Queen's Prophecy

Morning Notes

Lyria woke the next morning, her eyes groggy with the lack of sleep brought on by nighttime disturbances. To her surprise, and her confusion, Wallace’s side of the bed was still empty. She blinked a few times, as if he might appear, and reached out a hand, as if he might be there somehow, invisible, but with her. The only thing she touched was cold linens. She shook her head slightly, waking up, and hopped quickly out of bed.

Looking around, she confirmed that the room was empty, and judging by the dying cinders in the hearth, it had been since she went back to bed.

After a moment’s pause, she noticed a note left on the end table by the window under a goblet for water.

Lyria,

I didn’t want to wake you again. Caldien and Sirre Firesell are personally stationed outside my chambers to keep an eye on you. I am helping my guards investigate some people who may have a connection to the Pretender King’s heir.

I will be done by midday, and we can talk then, before Gathering Dark begins tonight.

I LOVE YOU

Wallace

She smiled at the note, immediately comforted by his familiar, swirled, regal penmanship. He had underlined ‘I LOVE YOU’ to emphasize the point.

“I love you too,” she whispered fondly. Then she left the note on the table and moved toward the door. The antechamber, which they had been in last night, was empty. She crossed the room in a few great strides and opened the only other door, which led out in the large reception hall. There, Caldien was lightly snoring in one of the velvet lined armchairs, while Sirre Firesell stood against the wall to one side, arms crossed and eyes fixed on the door.

“Morning,” she said, quietly so as not to wake Caldien.

“Morning,” Sirre Firesell said gruffly. He looked tired. “I let Caldien sleep. Poor boy was coming off a long day of supervising the Gathering Dark festivities but when he heard what happened, he insisted on coming right here to guard with me. Fell asleep just after sunrise.” Sirre Firesell lowered his voice further, “I think he has been awake for over a full day,” he whispered. Lyria was touched, and she smiled at the sleeping figure of the castle’s logistical planner. He was always so kind to her.

“Thank you for watching over me, both of you. Where is the King?” she asked. It had taken her a long time to get used to not calling Wallace by his first name when she first became Luna Queen. No one would ever dare correct her, but the castle staff was used to a more formal environment, one where they would never address the Luna Queen by her first name, nor the King by his. Lyria insisted on the use of her first name– and sometimes even got her wish, though not always– but had learned to concede by asking after the King, or her husband, rather than Wallace.

“He is out in the city. Do you remember the Valley Shadow contestant?” Lyria closed her eyes, picturing the wolf with the dark eyes who had a strange name, and who had complimented her fighting in the fourth challenge.

“Oh right,” Lyria said as the memory came back to her in full. “Resishiana. I remember her, because it was the first time I had heard her name aloud. I’d read about Pretender Princess Resishaina, but I had pronounced it ‘Rays-shine-a’ in my head. It wasn’t until I met the Valley Shadow Resishiana that I learned it was ‘Ruh-sis-ain-a’ but I think that is actually much nicer.” She realized she was babbling, and closed her mouth.

“Yes,” Sirre Firesell nodded. “She was named after the Pretender King’s daughter. Her mother, we think, is a secret loyalist to the Pretender throne. This suspicion has been floating about for quite some time. Years, really. Nothing definitive enough for Lord Valeyar to arrest her.”

“What of her father?” Lyria asked with curiosity.

“He was a Warrior for the Valley Shadow. Died before his daughter was born, killed by a Rogue.”

“How awful. She was a lovely girl,” Lyria said. “Though I hardly knew her, I suppose.”

“We don’t know her sentiments,” Sirre Firesell replied. “We know from Lord Valeyar that her mother opposed her entry into the contest, although of course the reason she gave was not political. We also know that Resishiana entered the contest anyway, so that might mean something.”

“Resy,” Lyria interrupted. “She goes by Resy.”

“Right,” Sirre Firesell said. “Well, the King went to make inquiries about Resy’s mother. She arrived yesterday for Gathering Dark with a small contingent from Valley Shadow. Resy will also be there, assuming she can be cleared of suspicion.”

In his armchair, Caldien suddenly bolted upright. “Don’t be suspicious!” he shouted. Then he blinked and looked around, seemingly disoriented.

“Sorry,” he said when he spotted Sirre Firesell and Lyria staring at him. He rubbed his eyes. “So sorry… how long was I out? I was having a strange dream…”

“You’ve been asleep several hours,” Sirre Firesell said with a chuckle. “You seemed quite exhausted.”

“I am,” Caldien replied, begrudgingly nodding. “But I still apologize.” He rose and bowed to Lyria. “I swore to guard you and I did not.”

“You did,” she replied. “In your way. And I appreciate it all the same.” She smiled at him, and after a moment, he returned the smile tentatively.

She turned back to Sirre Firesell. “Is Resy’s mother or the Valley Shadow contingent staying in the castle?”

He shook his head. “No, they’re at the manor of Duke Eryed Pastwel, the Duke from Valley Shadow.”

“Ah,” she replied. “So my husband will be gone until lunch, and unlikely to return any earlier?”

“I would think so,” Caldien offered, clearly eager to make up for falling asleep. “The foot traffic in the city is unbelievable at this time. And even the carriages! Always, always difficult to navigate through Cyrrillest during Gathering Dark.”

Lyria nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll have breakfast then,” she sighed, already counting down the moments until her husband would return. She strode to the large double doors that marked the entry of the King’s suite. “I’ll stop by my quarters to change,” she added. To her surprise, when she looked over her shoulders she saw that Caldien and Sirre Firesell had followed her toward the door. She gave them a questioning look.

“King’s orders,” they said. “We are to go where you go or ensure that another guard within the King’s personal guard is with you.”

“I see,” she replied. “I suppose that is prudent.” As she proceeded out the door, she added, “after I have changed for the day, I shall go visit with Wyatt as well. He is probably up, and may want breakfast. I know he always feels a bit neglected when the castle staff has to attend to an event or occurrence that isn’t him.”

The three shared a laugh, fondly thinking of the precocious young Prince and his frequent demands for attention.

“That is if he is not already in hiding,” Caldien said. This made Lyria laugh more, fondly remembering how, the morning of her wedding and coronation, she had found Prince Wyatt at the back of his closet, under a pile of upended laundry. When she had asked why he was there, he had explained that he didn’t want to go, because no one had played with him the day before and he felt sad.

It wasn’t until Lyria told him that he would get to ride in his own beautiful carriage pulled by special horses picked just for him, while the people waved and fawned over him, that he agreed to come out.

She never told him the waves and shouts were for her. She didn’t need them.

She arrived at her doors and Caldien and Sirre Firesell indicated that they would stay outside while she changed. It was to be a busy day.

“I’ll return in just a moment,” she promised them, before closing the doors. “And then the real work must begin.”