A New Queen

Chapter One

The distinct sound of metal tearing through leather filled the air of the quiet garden. Nicholette looked down to find her protective vest cut open to reveal the ivory patterned swirls dancing along her emerald bodice. Sweat dripped in her eyes as she looked down, making her squint as she peered up and found Bleu towering over her sporting a disapproving frown. 

“You aren’t focusing, Nicholette.” He tucked his knife into the holder on his hip. “I could have sliced through your stomach three times if I had the inclination.” 

Nicholette rolled her eyes and looked over her shoulder to where Marzonna sat with a book splayed across her lap. The warm spring breeze jostled the pages and Marzonna impatiently held them down.

“If I could but describe the look on Moss’s face every time I speak,” Nicholette said, continuing the conversation she was carrying before she had been struck. “It’s as if I am a child who wandered into the meeting by mere accident.” 

“I’m afraid, my dear, that is precisely how he sees you.” Marzonna said without lifting her gaze from her book. 

Nicholette bit the inside of her cheek in barely checked frustration. Her father had been dead a month, and she had patiently done everything asked of her to ensure a smooth shift of power. She had been studying and preparing for this since she was too young to be left unattended. Nicholette had proudly sat in her tutor lessons as she learned history, arithmetic, military strategy, language, public speaking, and anything else Marzonna demanded of her. From the age of eight, Nicholette tirelessly trained in combat alongside men twice her size who were hoping to be Queen’s Guard just like Bleu. 

Now, she was reaching the end of her first month as Queen of Delladine and she had done little but sit in on meetings and play daily catch up as she learned of new messes her father left behind for her and her kingdom. Nicholette had known for quite some time of all the failings her father had as king, Marzonna made sure of it. The late King Gordon was a greedy and lazy man who had made it his life's mission to get huge lumps of money with as little exertion as possible. This way of leading had left a substantial blow to Delladine’s social classes and economy, which now all fell into Nicholette’s lap. 

Despite what many would assume, Nicholette did not mind the great responsibility of being Queen. In fact, Nicholette had welcomed the pressure with open arms and a prepared mind. Today was the day that Nicholette could finally start proposing her ideas and projected goals for her reign as queen to the Delladine Cabinet members. The only problem was that the cabinet members happened to be six old men with the same ideals and greedy wants of Nicholette’s late father; proposing they change their ways was like asking a gam of sharks to stop feeding on smaller fish. 

Nicholette blew out a long, frustrated sigh and turned back to Bleu who was waiting for her with his arms crossed.

 “Again” She muttered and drew out her dagger. 

She widened her stance and lifted her arms, preparing for an attack. Bleu lazily brought his arms up and guarded his face and chest with bare hands. Nicholette regarded his expression of arrogant confidence and she grinned. She tossed her own weapon onto the plush grass at their feet and felt an eager anticipation broil inside of her veins. Despite Bleu’s intimidating 6’3 hulking figure, Nicholette knew from years of experience that she was quicker than he and far more scrappy. The scrappiness became more pronounced when she fought without weapons and it always lead to her victory and Bleu’s good natured laughter when she managed to best him. 

“Are you sure you want to do this old man?” She asked from the corner of her mouth. 

Bleu bellowed in a hearty laughter before quickly reaching out and tugging Nicholette to the ground while she was momentarily unguarded. Her back hit the dirt beneath her and Bleu’s hand was played out on her chest, pinning her down. Bleu chuckled and began to say something Nicholette was certain would be triumphant, but she pulled her legs up into the air, raising her back with them, and used the forward momentum to connect her feet with Bleu’s jaw. He sensed the movement, but not early enough to miss the blow entirely so he fumbled backwards and released the hand on Nicholette’s chest. 

Eager to get back on her feet, Nicholette swiftly jumped up and faced Bleu and found him already back on his guard. Trying to gain the offensive, Nicholette threw a few quick jabs at Bleu’s torso and face, doing her best to continually move her feet and circle him. Bleu easily blocked each shot and threw a few of his own. As Nicholette tried to maneuver her way around Bleu, he managed to land a sharp uppercut at her ribs and the pain immediately spread through her side. She sucked in two long breaths and ignored the desperate urge to curl over and hold onto the injured area. She gritted her teeth and threw two quick jabs before bringing up her foot and kicking at Bleu’s hip. The first kick landed with a satisfying crunch, so she tried for another but Bleu had caught on to the attack and captured her foot at his side. 

In a moment of split judgement, Nicholette used her lower body strength and pushed off the ground with the leg she still had control of. Bleu’s hold on her foot was firm so all she had to do was swing around like a pendulum before she was perched on his back with a vice like grip on his neck with her arms. She applied all the strength she had into the hold, but before it could warrant a surrender, Marzonna called out to them, 

“That’s enough.” Her voice was completely flat, but still authoritative. “The meeting is one hour, Nicholette, you need to prepare.” 

Nicholette blew a piece of her raven hair out of her eyes with a discontented huff before she gave one more final tug at Bleu’s neck and lazily released the hold. 

“You were about to give.” She said with a grin and wiped the sweat from her brow. 

Bleu rubbed his neck and bent down to grab the dagger Nicholette had thrown to the ground a few seconds earlier. “No, I had it under control.” He answered with a cheeky grin and handed her the knife. 

Nicholette laughed, “Careful Bleu, you’re starting to sound like the cabinet.” She said as she fell in step next to Marzonna and they followed Bleu into the palace, who was now behaving as the captain of the Queen’s Guard once again. 

Bleu was no longer joking when he said, “Nicholette, you have all the power in that room. Do not let those men push you around.” 

Nicholette raised her chin indignantly. She of course knew that she had all the power. Just last night, she laid up in her chamber and reviewed every book of law covering the cabinet and the rights that they held, determined to prevent them from undermining her. She was smart and competent, but those men were snakes in the weeds, thriving on those who could not see them before they struck. Nicholette vowed to herself that she would never be blindsided by the men who were supposed to be working in congruence with her plans. 

The group walked in silence for the rest of the way to The Queen’s Chambers. Nicholette used the time to gather her thoughts and formulate a strategy for the cabinet meeting. The six men who comprised the cabinet were very influential with the wealthy families that lived on the coast of Vidan, who also happened to be the wealthiest in all of Delladine. Just like the royal family, cabinet members are appointed for life. Although many do not get appointed until they have worked for quite some time in their respected fields, so more often than not, the members join at fairly old ages. The only way a member could be removed is one of three ways: they break the law in any way, they are voted out by their fellow cabinet members, or they fall ill and cannot continue in their positions. Unfortunately for Nicholette, all the men serving on the cabinet have shown no signs thus far of leaving their terms. 

“They do not like that you are Noduv.” Nicholette said suddenly, unsure of why she felt it necessary to discuss at that moment. 

Marzonna looked over at her with indifferent eyes. “I know that.” 

“They do not like me because I am a Noduv sympathizer.” Nicholette states. 

“I know that as well.” 

“You are people, and I find it very hard to not care for all. I do not understand why that is seen as a fault in their eyes.” Nicholette says quietly. 

“And that is why you are the one on the throne, you were made for this, Nicholette. You do not fear what you cannot have.” Marzonna said and laid a comforting hand on the queen’s shoulder. 

“I think what your people can do is beautiful. If I believed in religion I may even say it’s a miracle.” 

“There is no such thing as miracles.” Marzonna stated quietly. Nicholette only stared ahead and focused on Bleu’s back, unexplainably embarrassed for bringing up the topic at all. 

Within a few more minutes the trio found themselves in front of the large bronze doors that lead into Nicholette’s chamber. 

“I will wait here to escort you to the Ivory Room.” Bleu said and positioned himself beside the doorway, hand resting at the hilt of his sword. 

Marzonna tucked a piece of now grimy black hair behind Nicholette’s ear and said, “I will find you after dinner. Do not fear, you are not only a queen in title, but a queen in your heart as well. A spirit like yours cannot fail.” 

Nicholette swallowed back her emotion and nodded. Marzonna turned and placed a hand on her husband’s chest in a way of embrace before turning and walking away. Nicholette watched for only a second as Bleu’s gaze followed her lovingly down the corridor before turning and walking into her chamber. 

As soon as Nicholette pushed the bronzed door open, she heard giggling come from within the room. She found three of her young chambermaids folding linens and preparing a bath for Nicholette. Just as she opened her mouth to greet them, all three of them snapped their mouths shut and the laughter stopped abruptly. Their youthful faces, pink from working with the freshly warm water, turned blank and professional so quickly that Nicholette spent a moment wondering at how it was even possible. 

“Hello, ladies.” She greeted, kindly. 

Curtsies came from all three women. “We just finished drawing your bath, Queen Nicholette. It should be ready for you now.” The most senior of the maids, Marian, said briskly. 

“I see that.” Nicholette grinned, but was answered with nothing but blank stares. She sighed and continued, “I think I’d like one of your assistance for bathing today. I’m quite tired from training so I think it would be nice to have my hair washed for a change.” Nicholette noted the small look of surprise on their faces and knew it was because she usually insisted on privacy for bathing. She only partly relented to herself that their surprise is precisely why she said it, eager to get some fort of reaction from them. 

“Thank you.” She clipped to jostle them back to attention. 

The two younger maids curtseyed quickly and vanished outside of the door. Nicholette impatiently tore off the uncomfortable leather vest that Bleu made her wear to train in and threw it in the corner with a satisfying thud. She slipped out of her lightweight dress and started to examine her lithe body. She was not surprised to find a bright green bruise already blossoming at the ribs on her right side. She could feel the tenderness with every breath that she took and she cursed Bleu under her breath. She examined her face in the mirror but could find only dirty and grime, not a single bruise to worry about covering. Nicholette grinned cockily to herself as she thought about her ability to dodge most of Bleu’s hits today. 

The young queen turned and cautiously slipped into the hot tub of water, an exhale escaped her lips almost immediately. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back on the tub letting the strong scents of lemongrass and mint fill her nose. She slid lower and lower until her head was submerged in warm water and then he sat back up. 

“Okay Marian, if you’re ready.” 

“Of course, Your Highness,” She quietly made her way over to the tub and kneeled beside it. As she started to work the soap into Nicholette’s long black hair, Nicholette took the opportunity to talk to her. 

“How is your son?” She asked. 

“He is well, Your Highness.” 

Nicholette frowned at the short response, but did not press the matter. The maids have always been more professional than friendly, one of many reasons why Nicholette found herself without many friends. 

“He is a Noduv, is he not? I remember the lovely flowers you gave me for my birthday that he had conjured.” Nicholette tried again. 

At this line of conversation, Nicholette felt Marian go stiff. Her fingers stopped lathering the soap for a moment and she had to clear her throat before answering, “Yes, Your Majesty, he is.” 

“Perhaps one day you could bring him to visit. If I recall, he is seven now, yes?” 

“He does not do well with travelling, Your Majesty.” Marian answered stiffly as she rinsed the last of the soap from Nicholette’s hair. “There you go, all clean.” 

Nicholette sighed at the failed attempt at conversation and simply nodded. “Thank you, Marian. I can handle it from here.” The woman left without another word. 

Nicholette quickly scrubbed her body before she climbed out of the tub and tugged a big white towel off of a chair. When her body was dry she used the towel to wrap up her hair and meandered towards her large wardrobe and began to peruse. 

Nicholette cared little for fashion or the finest silks, but Marzonna had taught her that queens are often regarded by how they look. Nicholette rolled her eyes at the thought. The fact that any woman who is just as competent as a man, if not more, could be discredited simply for the way she looked was appalling to her. Once again, she bit the inside of her cheek to tamper her frustration and she carefully chose a gown that she felt would render the respect she wanted. 

She eventually chose another emerald green and ivory gown to try and become the picture perfect image of patriotism that she felt she was inside. For although Delladine had recently found its way into hardship, Nicholette still loved her country and had long since decided to stay loyal to its true needs until the day she died.  

The gown was simple, without any lavish embellishments or unnecessary frill. It was lightweight and silken with a simple skirt and sleeves short enough to show her shoulder. She slid it on with ease and stepped her feet into her favorite pair of ivory slippers. She decided the ensemble would have to do. 

 As she sat at her vanity and brushed her hair, she considered briefly how stifling it would be to dress like the women from Amith. She recalled a feast the Della Palace had once held for Amith’s royal family and the horror she had felt when she saw the constricting torture pieces the women wore. They seemed to have tied themselves into their stiff long sleeved dresses like it were some kind of mold. Nicholette was probably eleven when she had first seen these gowns and she immediately found herself thankful that she had been born a Delladine princess. She remembered how shocked she was to discover after the dinner that the women were not permitted to fight, rule, or even decide who they married. When Marzonna had explained the strict rules of The Church of Imperi, and the laws that the country of Amith had adapted because of the church, she was horror struck. 

Now, nine years later, Nicholette found herself the very picture of what the Amithians must despise. She took a second to look at her reflection and she felt immense pride. She was a fearsome warrior and would soon prove to be an even better ruler and she hoped that she was Amith’s worst nightmare.