The Chronicles of Ursa

Part 2 Chapter 12

In the weeks since his parents' deaths Reddyn kept busy. He sat in his chamber half-dressed, frantically signing his name to documents before he had to finish dressing for the coronation. There were a number of administrative tasks that he alone must perform – he felt that his formerly scrawled signature had improved greatly from signing it a hundred times every day – and he'd thrown himself into preparing for the coronation. He would be the youngest king in nine generations and the first to inherit the throne after an untimely death in seventeen, not since the great battle of Calderwell claimed the easternmost stretches of Ursa, where Ollo now sat. Tradition held that the monarch passed the throne down in his fiftieth year, ruled together with the new king for a three-year grace period, and proceeded to advise the new monarch for the rest of his life. This ensured the old wisdom was always passed down.

But the line had been broken; Tollredd died at forty-nine and Reddyn would be without a true advisor, save Rahn. He already tired of the sycophants who had traveled to the castle for the coronation – great families from all corners of Ursa and a few from their nearest neighbors. His mother's brother had sent a number of cousins to witness the ceremony whom Reddyn had never met, and he was not inclined to show them more than the most basic courtesy. Lani had never spoken kindly of her older half-brother Waylenn, ruler of Mare. Waylenn's mother only lived until his sixth birthday, and Lani was the result of his father's second marriage. He lived in fear that a conniving family member with a grudge would try to prop her up as the true Queen of Mare, and thus resolved to marry her off somewhere very far away. The king of Ursa's search for a wife was Waylenn's dream come true.

Mare was cut into the cliffs near a warm green sea, and famous for its climbing roses. Reddyn had been fascinated by the kingdom as a child and studied the drawings in his books obsessively. His cousins brought fresh seafood and ornate shells as offerings; a box of rose hips and a beautiful sword with a pearl-encrusted hilt. Reddyn accepted their gifts graciously, purposefully without meeting Rahn's eyes. The swordmaster would have no use for a hilt whose precious pearls would grace the wielder's hand with blisters.

Reddyn had expected his cousins to resemble his mother, but beyond their dark hair, they were nothing like Lani. He fought disappointment – somewhere in the week since he'd received the message that they were coming, he'd decided their presence would comfort him and remind him of his mother.

Of course, they did not.

Reddyn put down the quill and let out a sigh, stretching his arms over his hand and massaging his left hand. At least the next two days would be parchment-and-ink-free. And perhaps once he was truly crowned king he could issue a decree against paperwork.

He was still sleeping in his childhood room but knew the king's chamber was being readied for him. The castle had worked around the clock dyeing fabrics dark blue, stitching his seal into cloaks, and tending to the gardens. Reddyn stared at the ornate blue coat hanging on the front of the wardrobe, his seal emblazoned on its breast, silver and gold flames licking around the blue rose and the bear, its teeth bared in a snarl. His father's sigil had been a red bear with a golden fish in its mouth. The red bear symbolized the bear walkers and the family's traditional use of the surname "Redd." The golden fish was a tribute to Mare; the bear and the sea come together in a marriage.

Reddyn stood caught his reflection in the wardrobe's mirror: he looked pale and tired. Dark smudges stood out underneath his dark eyes, and combined with his mop of dark hair he looked more like a foundling than a king. He ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to tame it, and experimentally smiled at himself.

Just ghastly, he thought, hoping the brilliant coat would distract everyone from his wan appearance. He'd know from a young age that he'd been born the wrong colors for his father's family – his insufferable cousin Corwyn wore that lineage – but he truly didn't mind looking like Lani. Bards still sang ballads of her arrival at the castle, sprightly and slim, with a waterfall of black hair, warm brown eyes, and sun kissed skin. People wondered what the seaside summer princess would do when the winter light filtered weakly down on the mountain through the storm clouds, yet still she glowed. Some sang it was her love for their king, some crowed she was with child long before it was true, and more still crooned of sea magic. Lani famously wore a green sea glass necklace passed down through the women in her family, and in the right light, it blazed. Reddyn remembered asking her if it was magic when he was small, and she'd smiled at him and ruffled his hair.

"If you see magic, my Redd, it must be so," she answered.

The necklace sat undisturbed on his dresser. When he picked it up, it felt warm, like it had just lain against flesh and absorbed heat. A shiver went down the back of his neck but Reddyn slid the chain over his head. He could use a little magic today.

Rahn entered after two sharp raps on his door. Reddyn smiled.

"Do I look like a king?" he said, arms wide in his old white nightshirt and stocking feet.

Rahn raised one eyebrow and turned back toward the door.

"I'll bring reinforcements," grumbled the swordmaster, and Reddyn, for the first time in days and days, laughed.