Blood of my Brother

A Test of Wills

This time was different.

She didn't feel the same happiness upon her return. Instead of the comforting walls of home, the portcullis above her head felt like the bars of a prison. Instead of love welling up in her heart for her husband, a growing dread was wrestling for dominance. Was the man in front of her the love of her life, the wise and gentle king who had captured her heart, or was he an... an abuser?

She didn't have time to ponder the question as her door was opened and she was lifted into his arms, the way she had been so many times before, and spun around. As his lips met hers, she was tempted to forget her worries and lose herself in his love... but how often had her decisions to let herself be lost, either to her grief in the past or her delusions of her perfect life now, cost her people?

"Welcome home, my love." Fred brushed a strand of hair out of her face as he set her down. Then he frowned. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, dear," she lied. "I'm just tired. I need to rest. I'll tell you all about my journey tomorrow. Oh, Willow sends her regards."

He escorted her to their room, and she allowed herself to lean on his arm as they walked. Then he left her alone to rest. As soon as he was gone, she collapsed face-first onto the bed.

She got no rest, however, as the servants knocked on the door. She quickly sat up and called for them to enter, and they started carrying in trunks and bags. One stopped when she saw the exhaustion written on his queen's face. "My apologies, Your Majesty. Do we need to return later?"

"No, no, you're fine. In fact, I believe I'll go to the library for now." Putting on her "queen face" emboldened her somewhat. Perhaps it was time to stop moping and twisting her mind in knots and actually set to work. "Please call the captain and tell him to meet me there; I have urgent business to discuss with him."

Once in the library, she continued to flip through her journal. This was the moment of truth. The words she said here could either open doors that she hadn't even realized until now were closed or convict her and sentence her to a life of constant watchfulness or even arrest if she played her cards wrong.

There's still time, her mind offered. Don't say anything. Do this by yourself.

The door opened, and the captain entered and stood at attention. "Your Majesty, I was told you wanted to see me?"

"Yes, Captain, thank you." She set her journal down on the couch beside her and folded her hands, summoning every bit of strength she possessed. "I wanted to speak to you about the boy, Varian."

A flicker of surprise crossed the man's guarded expression. Captain Bartholomew was not an unsteady figure; he tended to make up his mind quickly and hold to his decisions. So to see the wavering uncertainty in his eyes was surprising. "I assure you, Your Majesty, we still have patrols out looking for him, and our borders are being closely guarded. The traitor won't have a chance to get close to you or anyone else in your family." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I was surprised the king agreed to let you travel with your sister, though I suppose you were going in the opposite direction."

"Thank you for your diligence, Captain, but that's not what I mean."

"My queen? What is it you wished to discuss about the criminal?"

She took a deep breath. "I didn't call you here to discuss a dangerous criminal. I called you here to discuss the child Varian. More specifically, what happened to him in prison."

He frowned. "Your Majesty, don't assume that just because he's a child that he's not dangerous or criminal. He still did attempt to murder you."

"I'm well aware. I haven't forgotten what that felt like. But I worry that he has been thought of not as a child criminal but as merely a criminal." Cut it out and stop dancing, lady! Say what you want. When did you lose your spine? "Tell me, were you directly responsible for him in prison, or was he under the care and keeping of another?"