Rohesia was not used to dealing with people who intimidated her. All her life she'd found herself to be the tallest, smartest, and best wizard in the room. It started as a child, when at the age of eleven she sprung up in height-around that same time, she began a wizardress, learning everything she could of magic until she was to advance. Her mother made certain that she had the best scholars teaching her, and for three months every year she'd been sent away to conduct studies in Bevulla. Everyone who met her found her intriguing, slightly scary, and they respected her for that. Rohesia made certain of it. But as she waited in her own castle to be seen by the King of Partrall, she felt smaller than a mouse.
Her husband, Acelound, gave her a weak smile. He reached under the table and gripped her hand tight, his eyes painting a portrait of words to her. "We will not go out without a fight," he whispered, his voice gruff yet sweet. She nodded, and he squeezed her hand again. "This is our kingdom, and it has been thy kingdom for centuries before us. Gardelle may fall but it can never stay down."
"Brave words to speak before thy wife, but how brave do they become when faced to look upon the one who hath destroyed thy's life? Ah," she sighed, tilting her head upwards and gazing upon the ceiling, where several draperies hung, "I do feel that if we art in want to let our people live, we must find ourselves humbled and surrender before too much damage might come upon us."
"Surrender? Surely you jest-"
Rohesia removed her hand from his, then touched his shoulder gently, "Would thou rather die a man of idiocy who ended up killing all of his kingdom, or a wise king whom was humble enough to let his kingdom live, even under a different name?"
"What use would their lives hold if they art to live under his tyranny?"
"To let Gardelle's culture live on, as they are Gardelle, not us. We are but an image set to rule-they are the people, they are Gardelle. We cannot hold their lives to ours because of pettiness," she told him. Rohesia took a deep breath, keeping her eyes on the crest of Gardelle, which was hand-sewn onto each drapery. "It be my kingdom and mine right alone to protect Gardelle."
"But-"
"My king, my husband, my lover and my friend. Thou hath no say."
Acelound scowled, but knew that she was right. The kingdom was never his, as he was only the son of a night, and as long as she lived the kingdom was hers. Even if she were to die, the kingdom would go to their son, or daughter. But he was never in line for throne. Still, he sat up straighter and set his jaw hard, waiting for the vile man to enter and tell them their fate.
The door to the room had been broken off and removed, though pieces of wood still hung from the hinges. Splinters and slivers of the door were still on the floor in places, having found cracks and corners to hide themselves. The stone table had been cracked from the top to the sides, uneven and resembling a messed up spider's web. At the edge of the table, where the royal throne had been moved so that he could sit on it, was the Partrall flag. It was weaved from golden threads, and several gems were crested into it's handle-fire opals, yellow sapphire, red tourmaline, all the colors of Partrall in the finest gems to be found.
A squire walked into the room, his footsteps loud and even, and his outfit finely polished. In his hands the boy carried a quill, a small pot of ink, and a large scroll. He didn't say a word, merely bringing them in, setting them on the table before the Queen and King, and walking back out of the room. Neither of them moved to touch it, though Rohesia glanced to her husband before setting her eyes cold on the door.
They continued to wait.
Outside of the castle, both sides had called for their armies to halt, though she doubted that Partrall honestly would. They were known for destroying the cities that they took over, raping the woman and children and stealing everything in sight. It was disgusting, and she could only hope that her army wouldn't do the same. Partrall and Gardelle had fought before, which is how they ended up with Bevual, but never before had either side tried to entirely take over the other. She had found the king unreasonable, rude at times, and certainly power hungry...but never as bad as he was showing himself to be.
After making them wait for another half hour, the king of Partrall finally went in. He was a medium sized man, with broad shoulders and a pronounced jawline and nose. On his shoulders was a magnificent red cape, with fluffy orange shoulder pieces and an puffy cream colored shirt. His belt was large and held his large sword, though instead of pants he wore black tights with white ruffles on both ends. His mustache had been trimmed perfectly, sitting upon his lip as a symbol of pride, and the first thing Acelound did when he saw it was subconsciously touch his thick beard.
"Well, hello there," he said. He stood next to the royal chair, sticking his leg up on it and leaning into it. "What a pleasure to get to see you again, Rohesia. You're looking...fit to battle, I see."
Indeed she was, as she had exchanged her dresses for war clothes-an armor chest plate was her protection, engraved with the Estarii symbol and the metal bent to accommodate her chest. Her hair had been pulled up into three buns, two on the sides of her head and one on top, and she had sharpened metal sticks wound into them. "And you," she responded, "Arnold, look fit for a princess's ball."
He laughed, indignant and cold. Arnold leaned over the table towards them, then spat in her face. She sat there and didn't say a word, only tensing up and gripping onto her husband's arm to keep him from doing anything he'd regret. "Don't," she said, voice hard.
"What's wrong, Rohesia?" Arnold asked, grinning. He sat down in the chair, swinging up his legs onto the table and crossing them. "You look like a sore loser."
"And you, Arnold, look like a man who cannot handle winning. Is it just the fact that you think yourself above the world, or maybe because thine are insecure and do not truly know how to be a ruler?"
Again, he laughed. "I am above the world. Mine family hath ruled for generations of generations, while thy family only began to rule a century ago," he told her, a sigh in his voice. "Ah, it will be sad to see you be the one to disgrace your family line. That must be an awful failure, don't you think? But don't worry, I won't kill your kingdom and your people. Not if you do exactly as I say, that is."
Rohesia breathed in and out, calm despite the fact that she had yet to wipe the spit from her face. To even acknowledge it would be a sign of weakness, and she was not weak. Her husband was seething in the chair next to her, but he held his tongue out of respect for his wife. You swine... "And what might thou have to say? What offer doth you lie upon this table that I cannot refuse?"
"Hmm....your life, perhaps?"
"Mine life hath nothing to do with this kingdom."
"Thy children's life."
It was her turn to laugh, cunning and short. Rohesia gave him a sly smile, "Oh? And just how might thou be expecting to receive mine children? They shall not submit to you. Thou cannot find them, either, as they are well hidden and safe. If I am to die, this kingdom shall belong to them, and no title, deed, or mark of land shall ever change that. The magic that winds within their bones is of the purest breed, kept clean with blood from Bevual and Webby. Thy cannot surely believe any true Gardelle citizen would ever accept you as their King?"
"Thou art lucky that I do not cut off your head this second!" he shouted. Then he took a deep breath, hands balled up into fists. His voice was laced with acid as he spoke, "Rohesia, your games have gone on long enough. Thou shall sign over Gardelle to me if you do not wish for me to burn it to the ground this very second."
"Sign over Gardelle to you?"
"This shall be my kingdom now, Rohesia. It has always been meant to be mine, and you cannot keep me from it any longer. Give me the thing for which I hath asked, or else I shall kill every citizen of Gardelle, just as I did to Odmen."
At that she couldn't help but widen her eyes, opening her mouth several times before finally managing to get something out. Less than a week prior a man by the name of Jon had begged entrance to the castle, telling her that his tribe had been destroyed and that Partrall was to blame. She had sentenced him away, having not believed him but giving him money enough to build himself a home. "It was thou that destroyed Odmen? The dwarf-man had warned me of this, but I could not believe thou were so despicable."
"And once I am done with Gardelle, next I shall take over the country of Rafella, and the Islands of the Cardel Sea," he said. He looked smug, with a half smile on his face and his head tilted up and looking down at them. "This world shall be mine one day, as I am the only fit ruler."
"Thou cannot truly believe this world would ever be yours."
He laughed again, uncrossing his legs and bringing them back down to the ground. His feet had left little spots of dirt on the table, which he wiped off swiftly with his hand. With a gentle touch he picked up with paper, reading aloud to her what he had written on it himself. "I, Rohesia of Gardelle, do solemnly swear and pledge my life to my ruler, Lord Arnold of Partrall. All of mine title and deeds shall be moved over to him and his family, as long as they might prosper in this world. All you have to do, my dear, is sign this."
"And if I do not?"
"Then Gardelle shall burn."
Arnold sat the paper back down, turning it to face her and pushing it across the table to where she sat. Rohesia glanced down at it, her eyes skimming over the words before she looked back up at him. My land, my kingdom, my people...can I really sign them over to this...this vile creature, she asked herself. But if I am to not, they all shall die, and they would never have a chance to live. She felt a tender tug on her wrist, and then a warm hand clasp hers under the table. With a heavy heart she sighed, "If I am to protect mine country...give to me the quill and ink."
He eagerly shoved them over to her, scraping them against the table as he did so.
"I, Rohesia of Gardelle..." she read aloud, her voice strong, "do solemnly swear..." She felt another squeeze, which brought her eyes to Arnold and her chin up, "to pledge my life to the land of Gardelle. Where we shall never falter in our beliefs, nor shall we kill ourselves trying. Mine people deserve a rightful ruler who shall not destroy them but keep them together.. One who shall not constantly choose to partake in war, killing off trade and needlessly killing lives. Mine kingdom would rather die than to live on through thine will, and thou knows."
The look of shock on his face was evident, as his mouth hung open and his eyebrows were raised, but she continued to speak. Rohesia stood, looking down on him and raising her voice as she continued. Her husband stood with her, keeping his hand intertwined with hers.
"This kingdom shall not fall while I am Queen, nor while mine husband is King. Our children are the rightful rulers of this kingdom, and to give it away to anyone else would be a dishonor on them. So you can take control of the land. You can kill whoever you want, and you can slit my throat for all that I care. But no matter what happens to me, no matter what you do...this kingdom will never be yours." She wiped off her face then, holding her head high and looking down upon him with a challenge in her eyes.
Arnold stood up, meeting her stare equally. He didn't get angry, in fact, he looked more calm than he had during their conversation before. Shoulders relaxed, a small smile on his face, and he even had his feet apart some, as if he were having a conversation about the weather with a friend. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again, a chuckle sounding from deep in his throat. It grew louder and louder until he was laughing, his lips closed tightly and his grin wider than ever.
"You dare laugh," Acelound asked, clinching his fists. Rohesia let go of his hand and pressed hers against his chest, a gentle reminder that he couldn't lose his temper. She gave him a short look, telling him to be calm without speaking at all. Oh, Ace...you mustn't speak to him like that. Be careful.
Arnold shouted in Parese for his guards, clapping his hands three times as he did so. Without hesitation four men entered, swords drawn and held up to their chest. He cursed, "Guards! Kill the man."
Rohesia kept her hand on her husbands chest, both of them taking a few steps back. Acelound wasn't fluent in the language, but understood it enough to know what he was saying. If his sword hadn't been taken from him when Arnold had first taken hold of the castle he would have reached for it, but now he had nothing to protect him but his wife's magic, which she used to cast a barrier about them. It wouldn't hold for long, though, especially not in the room they were in. It had been specifically built so that way meetings could be held without magic interference, and even as powerful as she was, her magic hardly held long enough for the guards to come closer. My magic! "Work, damn spells," she cursed, the magic inside of her wiped away like a sponge had sapped it up. Why isn't my magic working?
"You cannot win, Rohesia. Just accept this now and make it easier upon yourself," he told her, his voice mocking and cruel.
The guards moved in closer, no expressions at all on their faces. They touched the boundary with their swords, and moved closer as it waved and fell out in places. She whispered spells under her breath, trying to bring up something that could protect him, but nothing was working. They were running out of time, and as their backs hit the wall, out of space as well. She stepped in front of him, her face strict.
"Move, Rohesia. I don't want you dead just yet, you pathetic girl."
She shook her head, "You will not touch my husband." Baring her teeth at the guards she let out a low sound from the back of her throat, a yell of a warrior about to attack. "Order them back before I destroy them myself!"
"Move, Rohesia."
"Order them back!"
He laughed again, harder than before, and shouted again in Parese for them to kill the man. They followed his instructions, one of them grabbing Rohesia by her hair and throwing her to the ground. She cursed, getting back up only to be physically restrained by another guard. She struggled, trying her hardest to reach her husband.
"Acelound!" she cried out, fighting the hands that held her back. Her magic wasn't working at all, which was impossible, even with the barriers set about the room. There was nothing that could stop her magic. Nothing aside from Lentiusta.
Her husband punched the first guard, kicking the second and keeping them away. "Rohesia," he called, fighting them to get to her. There was perhaps only a body's length of space between them, but with the guards there it might as well have been a million fortwigs of treacherous land. The guards punched back, bruising him and cutting him where their swords would strike. Still, he fought them, yelling and cursing them with every name under the sun.
With her eyes wide open, Rohesia watched as a guard hit in hard in the stomach and he crumpled to the ground. "Rohesia," he whispered, "don't."
If he were to say anything else it would have been impossible, as a blade had buried itself inside of the back of his neck. With a gurgling noise blood began to seep up and out of the wound, followed by the blade as the man placed it back into its case. Acelound's light brown eyes were glossed over, stuck staring at his wife's weeping face. She fell onto the floor, no longer restrained, and crawled over to him. Rohesia could not bring herself to touch him, instead she just sobbed before his body, her shoulders falling up and down in great strides and a low moan escaping her lips. "Acelound," she said, "Acelound. No...no, you...you can't..."
"Face it, Rohesia," she heard Arnold say, his voice filled with contempt, "thy holds no control."
The tears continued to fall as she pulled herself back up, chest heavy with rage. It burned through her body like the crops had when Partrall passed through-fast, hot, and it wasn't going to end any time soon. She cursed, "You shall never have Gardelle."
"Oh?" he asked, taking his sweet time as he walked over to where she stood. His guards stood on alert around him, though by the way he held himself she could tell he knew he didn't need them. She was powerless against him, and she couldn't figure out out. "Who's going to stop me?" he asked, voice a cold, cold whisper.
"What have you done to my magic?"
He shrugged, then gestured behind him. At the door was a darkened figure of a small child, one with a large head of frizzy hair that was crudely tied back into a braid. In her hands, brightly glowing, was Lentiusta, the Orb of Els. My son has failed, my daughter be missing, and my husband is dead... The magic had her tied down, and behind her was an old woman with a sneer wrapped around her entire face. She had one hand on the child's shoulder, and the other around the girl's neck.
Rohesia gasped, "You'll kill the child! No one but those pure in magic are supposed to touch the orb!" It was surreal, as if everything bad was happening. Nothing could get worse. She couldn't hardly think, couldn't breathe, couldn't believe that it was real. It couldn't be real.
Then the lady cackled, her voice like that of a snake, "She's expendable."