KGWrites

Iona

The Throne Room, Falcon’s Nest Palace, Kingdom of Aldiron

Iona didn’t like the throne room much. It was long and pillared and mostly empty, save from when the people of Aldiron entered to petition the king. Braziers lit the sides of the chamber and sunlight filtered in from windows set high in the rafters, casting shadows at the room’s edges amongst the pillars and small galleries that led off into the rest of the palace. She felt on display whenever she was here, sat as she was on the smaller chair at her father’s right hand.

Still, at least she wasn’t on the throne itself.

The throne of Aldiron was up several steps from the throne room itself, watching over the room. The wooden back had been carved with a feathered pattern, designed to look like a pair of bird wings, raised up over the back of the throne. It made her father look ready to swoop down and strike at whomever was addressing him. Iona had always found it a very aggressive image, one she didn’t believe her father would want people to associate with him.

Right now, though, King Samuel looked like a bored old man as her father drummed his fingers on the carved arm of his throne which had been shaped into the curved talons of a bird of prey. He wore the crown of Aldiron upon his brow, yet another thing shaped into the falcon symbols of the kingdom, with feathers of gold, silver and copper twisted into a ring of overlapping wings. Beneath the crown though, his eyes were distant, not at all focussed on the man talking in the centre of the room.

Iona couldn’t blame him there though, listening to the blessings of The Village and how each God looked upon her father’s rule and the kingdom felt the same after hearing it hundreds of times before. She cleared her throat and the man stumbled to a pause in his speech, halfway through explaining how The Farmer would bless the kingdom with a healthy and fertile spring.

“The crown appreciates you carrying the messages of The Village to us my friend, and we humbly thank each of The Thirteen for their blessings. But the Kingdom must run ever forwards, and my father has plenty of petitions to hear today. I am sure The Bailiff will understand and smooth things over with Their siblings if we were to… move things along?” She said, making her voice loud and commanding, as she had been taught since she was young. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her father turn his head, one eyebrow raised, but she kept her gaze fixed on the priest who stuttered slightly.

“Oh… of… of course your highness. We have no wish to cause delay to you. Many apologies. Blessings of The Village upon you both.” He managed as two royal guards stepped up either side of him, turning him to march him from the throne room.

“It is incredibly disrespectful to lie before the Gods Iona. I’m told there’s very few petitioners this morning.” King Samuel said softly, so that only she could really hear him, never taking his eyes off the priest’s back. Iona hummed and shrugged her shoulders.

“It’d be worse if the King fell asleep during the Gods’ blessings.” She replied, lifting one leg to cross it over her other as she sank down on her throne, shifting into a less rigid position for a while. Her father laughed and scratched at his bearded chin.

“True. They really do need to get some new sermons mixed in; it’s getting tough to focus when you know every word that’s coming. And still, you showed a good deal of diplomatic grace in handling that, good work.” His words made Iona grin with pride, shuffling her shoulders against her throne.

Her father turned his gaze back towards the throne room, towards Conrad Turner, Captain of the Royal Guards.

“Is there anyone else to see before we begin the petitions Turner?” He asked and the guard captain straightened, saluting before replying.

“There are two who have requested audience your highness. Lady Meghan Whiteoak has come asking for an audience, she tells us her presence was requested.” King Samuel nodded.

“It was. And the other?”

“Lord Captain Haster of the City Watch begs an audience, he says he has reports on a disturbance in the lower districts that your highness may wish to respond to.” Turner said and Samuel leaned back, glancing to Iona.

“Sounds exciting. See them in. Lady Whiteoak first, then Haster.” He ordered and Turner bowed, giving a signal to his men, one of whom stepped out of the room.

Iona sat up straighter in her throne, most of the nobles that lived within Aldiron were painfully dull, always stepping carefully and keeping things proper. But Lady Meghan Whiteoak had a different streak to her, something set her apart from all the other lords and ladies. She had different interests to them, not caring for gossip or politics. Instead, she would most often be found training in combat, or keeping to herself on her noble estate in the summer district. Other noblewomen, like Violet, thought of Meghan as an outcast, with strange habits and no interest in marriage prospects, children, nor the Gods like they had. But to Iona, Meghan Whiteoak was fascinating, enjoying her own freedom without a care in the world what anyone thought of her.

The guard returned, standing at the door to the throne room and clearing his throat before calling out across the chamber, his voice echoing off the high walls.

“Lady Meghan Whiteoak.” He announced, before stepping aside to allow the woman into the room.

Meghan Whiteoak strode confidently up the central aisle of the throne room towards Iona and her father. She wasn’t much older than Iona herself, Iona recalled, but still she commanded the space like few others Iona had ever seen. Her sleeves, which had long flowing fabrics of deep violet, trailed behind her as she walked, as did the curled mane of black hair around her head. Her black hair framed a thin, sharp featured face with dark skin and brown eyes. Her mouth was turned up at the left corner in a slight smile. Sheathed at her side was a gently curving sword that she rested her left hand on the hilt of.

Stopping just before the throne, she expertly dipped to one knee and bowed her head.

“Your majesties.” She said, her voice silvery and melodic.

“You may rise Meghan.” Samuel said from the throne, projecting his voice with a tone of command and authority, the King’s voice. When Meghan stood though, Samuel’s features broke into a smile and his voice softened.

“You look well. It’s good to see you.” He noted and she smiled and nodded.

“You as well your highness. And you Princess.” She turned her dark eyes to Iona and the princess nodded a greeting, not trusting her voice as she fought to keep a blush from her cheeks.

“You’ve heard I’m sure, the reports that Lord Hills brought to the council?” Samuel began, settling back into a more comfortable position on the throne. Meghan nodded, her eyes turning grave.

“The rumours of troop movements at Shetani? The prospect of another war with Draconeus’ armies? Yes, I’ve heard.” She replied, her voice grim.

Iona sat up straighter, she hadn’t heard these rumours yet. And what she did know of Lord Draconeus of Shetani was the little she could remember from the last war, when she’d been a child. She did remember that it had been bloody, and that it had cost her father, and her, dearly. She looked to her father, expecting an explanation, but he didn’t look to her.

“You and I have discussed at length the rumours surrounding Draconeus. And while wars are fought with soldiers and armies, we both know that if he survives this war as he did the last, then it will only be a matter of time before he returns.” Samuel continued.

“You want me to research the rumours then, see what truth to them there is?” Meghan asked and Samuel nodded.

“That, for which you will have access to the archives here in the palace, and assistance in whatever other enquiries you may have.” He told her. Meghan’s eyes then flicked to Iona briefly.

“And the other part of what we discussed? Should it come to war with Draconeus we should consider that too.” Meghan said and Iona narrowed her eyes in confusion.

“That will come in time. For now, focus on your research.” Samuel responded quickly, shooting a cryptic glance towards Iona and Meghan bowed her head. Iona couldn’t bite her tongue any longer as she looked at the two of them.

“Alright, please stop talking around me. Especially as I think you’re talking about me. What other part? What’s that got to do with me?” She demanded, folding her arms across her chest and glaring at the two of them.

“I haven’t told you yet.” Her father began. Before Iona could point out that this was obvious though, he continued. “If war is indeed coming to us, then you will need instruction in its ways. And more than just combat. Lady Whiteoak, along with some others, have agreed to be your tutors.”

Iona turned her head to face her father, her eyes wide. He had always wanted to keep her from any warfare and combat growing up, even when Aldiron had been at war with other kingdoms. Now though, he was setting her up with private tutelage? Iona’s mind trailed to the stories Marius had told her, or that Violet had passed down from her father, or even that Samuel himself had told her of past battles and wars. They had sounded like hell.

And yet, the worry and fear were tinged with something else. Excitement.

Finally, more than just sitting in the palace and hiding behind my guards. I’ll be able to take care of myself.

And then her father held up his hand.

“But before you get ahead of yourself imagining grand adventures. You still have another two weeks of self-imposed time in the palace before you can go and begin training. As a result of your own… delinquency.” He told her and she deflated slightly in the throne. He gave her a little shrug and she stuck her tongue out at him. It was annoying, but there at least was an end to it, and something to look forward to afterwards. Samuel turned back to Meghan, who was watching the two with a smirk.

“Begin your research immediately Meghan. And when my daughter’s atonement for her latest misbehaviours has ended then you may begin her training. Report to me with anything you find.” Meghan nodded and bowed again, before turning and walking back down the throne room, giving Iona another private little smirk as she turned.

As she left, Samuel turned to Iona.

“I am sorry I didn’t tell you sooner Iona.” He began, looking ready to continue speaking but Iona shook her head.

“It’s alright father, I understand.” She told him simply and he nodded, turning his head back to the room as Lord Captain Haster was led into the room. Unlike Meghan, whose approach had been virtually silent, the rattling of armour echoed the walls as the City Guard Captain approached before he too, dipped into a bow.

“Arise Haster.” Her father said simply, gesturing for the man to stand. “I hear you’ve got some reports for us about trouble in the lower districts.” Haster nodded and cleared his throat.

“I do your highness. I’ve had my men keep a closer eye on the districts since the trouble the princess ran into in the Autumn District.” He said, looking briefly to Iona and she nodded, recalling her near mugging and rescue. She was glad that Haster’s troops were now trying to make that area a little safer for people. Haster then continued.

“We’ve had some reports of a disturbance in the Winter District now. Seems to be a theft gone wrong in a trading area called The Oasis. A pickpocket was caught by a prominent figure within the district and then when this person tried to reclaim their money they were attacked and crippled by other street thugs, who then escaped with the coin of them and their retinue.”

Iona sat forwards. The name “Oasis” had been something Alyx had used when she’d saved Iona. Was she involved somehow? Iona knew it was unlikely, that there were hundreds of people in the Winter District, and more than a few of them resorted to thieving. But still, Iona just had a strange feeling about it. She tightened her hand slightly, almost able to feel the ghost of Alyx’s hand in hers, pulling her along.

Next her, King Samuel drummed his fingers on the arm of his throne again and tilted his head, studying Haster.

“What are you asking for Lord Captain?” He asked, cutting through the story and seeing Haster’s real purpose in asking for an audience.

“Your highness, the Winter District represents a large portion of the city’s population, all trapped in a tiny space where clearly criminals seem comfortable to act as they like. If we aren’t quick to act, it could become true anarchy in there. Especially if people start taking revenge over treatment like this.” Haster reported, unconsciously standing to attention and resting his hand on his longsword hilt.

“I would like permission to hire new trainees to increase our numbers in the city guard and to increase the numbers of active guards within the Winter District itself. I want to make our presence known and unavoidable, so that criminals don’t get any ideas.”

King Samuel sighed and ran his hand through his beard.

“New recruits can be… rash. And quick to act before thinking. Taking new recruits into such a dangerous situation might just cause more problems than it solves. So, recruit some new guards and while they train, take veteran guards from the Spring and Summer Districts into the Winter. Commander Marius’ third legion are remaining within the city while he oversees the formation of new legions, we’ll use them to take the place of your guards in the upper districts. And for now, let’s not leave any criminals within the jails in the Winter District where their allies might get the idea to break them out. If you make arrests, use the palace dungeons to hold them.” He said after a while and Haster nodded, hitting his fist on his breastplate in a salute. Then the Lord Captain turned to walk from the chamber.

“Haster.” Iona called out, and he turned to face her, his eyes questioning. “Watch your back in there, I hear it’s quite the dangerous place in the Winter District.” Haster smiled and nodded.

“Thank you, princess. I’ll keep a sharp eye, don’t worry.”

As he left, Iona turned to face her father.

“Rumours of war and now criminal gangs running amok in the Winter District? Couldn’t just be one or the other?” She asked and he sighed, sitting back in the throne and massaging his temples.

“You’ll find this yourself one day Iona. When it rains it pours.” He said simply before looking up to the royal guards at the door.

“Send in the first petition then, let’s not keep them waiting.”