QUEEN DOWAGER
Eryndor, The Eastern Court of Veynar
The Queen Dowager hated unexpected visitors. She was seated with her favorite ladies-in-waiting when an attendant rushed in, breath uneven, composure slipping in a way she found immediately irritating. He bowed quickly, words tumbling over themselves as he announced that a visitor demanded an audience.
“From where?” she asked, not yet looking at him.
He hesitated, then stepped closer, lowering his voice as though the word itself might carry weight.
“Alarna.”
Her attention shifted.
“Oh,” she murmured, lifting her eyes at last. “How interesting.”
“Get out,” she snapped, and the room obeyed at once.
Chairs scraped softly as her ladies rose, gathering their skirts and retreating without question. One reached to take the fan she had been using.
“Leave that,” the Queen said, motioning lazily.
The girl froze, then set it back into her hand before hurrying out with the others.
“Go,” the Queen added, already annoyed that she would now have to fan herself.
The throne room always felt unbearably warm. The servants moved too much, disturbed the air, ruined whatever balance might have existed. She refused to consider that the heat had anything to do with her own blood, that it had anything to do with her siakar origins.That was irrelevant.
The doors closed. Moments later, they opened again, and a cloaked woman entered without hesitation. She moved forward with quiet certainty before pulling her hood down, revealing streaks of gray at her temples and rounded features that had remained unmistakably beautiful despite the years. Her expression was calm, her eyes kind.
Weakness,the Queen thought with disgust.
The Queen’s attention drifted briefly, catching on the pin at the woman’s temple. The stone holds the light in an unusual way, milky at first glance, then shifting as she moves.
“That is a rare piece,” she said, almost idly, the fan slowing in her hand.
The woman lifted a hand to it without thinking. “There is only one,” she replied with a smile. “It was found in the mines of Yorali.” A small pause. “It was a gift.”
“I’m sure it was,” the Queen murmured.
She curtsied. “I am Jularin, Princess of Alarna.”
The Queen Dowager watched her for a moment, the fan moving slowly in her hand. “Oh, but you are so much more than that, Princess,” she said.
Jularin did not deny it. “Yes.”
“I have risked my life to come here. And it is so that we may discuss a matter that requires...discretion."
“Fine.”
Jularin drew in a breath, steadying herself. “My daughter and son are Ivanoxa and Tamal of Yorali.”
The fan paused for the briefest moment before resuming its rhythm. “I have come to plead for your assistance,” Jularin continued, her voice tightening as urgency crept in. “I have information of… concern.”
The Queen turned her head slightly. “How did you leave Alarna? Is it not heavily warded?”
“I had… assistance.”
That was more interesting than anything else she had said.
