The Tales of Miriela: Shadowborn

Chapter 30: Rebecca Wullmont

"Well, what if I prefer to stay right here with you?" Asked the Preceptor.

"I suppose you could. Until the children come looking and they are shocked at what they find. And word spreads, first to the Royal Servants, then to the Nobles. And the strange little rumor about a minor preceptor and the Queen travels its way to the Catredal." Rebecca tilted her head, and an even bigger smile spreading across her face. "Preceptor Cecil would certainly send word to the council, and I'm sure that would make my husband very upset. He is a crude and harsh man, no doubt his actions would bring a great misfortune to you," Rebecca sarcastically remarked.

"Alright, alright. You have made your point, my Queen. I will do what I have come here to do, to teach," Said the Preceptor. He departed from Rebecca and walked towards the next room, where the children sat waiting. "Let's open up those books and shape your young minds!" Preceptor Webb said as he walked away from Rebecca, as laughter filled his voice.

Rebecca enjoyed feeling wanted. It had been a long time since she had felt that way. In fact, she wasn't sure if she had ever felt that before. Kline never paid much interest to her, and even when he did, Rebecca could see through his cheap words. Their relationship was balanced upon a thin wire, and the constant threat of falling always lingered.

But things were different with Martin Webb. He was as kind as he was interested. The children loved him, and Rebecca felt that he was more a father to them than Kline had ever been.

The Queen withdrew to her study, and allowed the children to learn, and Martin to teach. She sat back in a chair, a blanket across her arms. A deep yawn, and a tired sigh followed. Rebecca was soon asleep.

"My Queen," A warm hand gently rested upon Rebecca's shoulder. She opened her eyes and awoke from her rest. "Working hard this afternoon, I see," Martin Webb said, with a sarcastic chuckle.

"Are the children done with classes for the day?" Rebecca asked.

"They've been done for some time. It's late afternoon. You've been resting for hours. Of course, Mira insisted I stay and continue to read to her," Martin laughed.

Rebecca removed the blanket and rubbed her eyes clear of sleep. She couldn't believe it. She never slept like that. "Well I must be going, Martin, I must see that the children have been fed. I must-" the Queen's words were cut short.

"Rebecca," Martin said. He had never called her by her first name. She stared back at Martin, and felt an unfamiliar sense of trust.

"I'm sorry, my Queen. Forgive my lack of formality," Martin said.

Rebecca smiled back at Martin. "I shall have your head for it." Rebecca, still smiling, gently kissed the preceptor. But her smile soon faded, and she withdrew from Martin.

"What is it? What troubles you?" He asked.

"I am the most powerful women in Ferenor. Perhaps the most powerful women in Miriela. The Queen of the The Realm. Yet, I feel no different than a slave of the Southern Suns. The Estate has become my cage, the children a distraction from the chains which bar me from reality. Any aspect of life worth living for has been taken from me, and it has all been the King's doing. Seeing you is the only taste of a real life that I get. But as you leave, I am quickly reminded of the box that Kline has sealed me in. And I fear that as long as he reigns, I may never escape it." The Queen retreated to a nearby table. She poured herself wine and stood with tears filling her eyes, the red wine pressed against her quivering lips.

"I know it must be difficult, but do not forget, you are serving an important role. You guide the King and raise his heirs. The Gods have blessed you in delivering this position," Martin Webb said.