.I.
Early in the morning, a couple of hours after dawn. A woman dressed in a black cloak and with her head covered by a hood had stepped off the main street, leading to the palace, into a blocked side street, at the end of which was a bathhouse. She entered the building and advanced towards the private baths, located beyond the common area in the southeastern side of the establishment. Where, without even searching, she had stumbled upon the place where the sweet young prince she knew long ago, now older, crowned as king a mere few days ago, was spending his morning. Sitting in a chair a few steps away from a wooden tub, with an untouched full tankard of ale on the table to his right, near which was his sword and in between sat a vase filled with a handful of tulips and daisies, as in his left hand he held a book with a red cover. He was resting his head on the chair's backrest and the wall behind, as he was staring through the thin layer of steam present in the room, at a wooden beam holding the celling. The woman stopped near the door. 'Your Grace.', she said bowing her head, approaching while taking off her hood, revealing her auburn locks of hair.
'Ah. Sorceress.', replied the king, recognizing her voice instantly. 'What brings you here ? Is it to frown upon the deplorable state the current patron has brought this establishment to ?', asked the young king, turning his head her way.
'To my disappointment, Your Grace. It is not why I'm here. I've just come to discuss several matters with the owner.', she answered, taking a couple of steps inside the chamber. 'I believe you have your reasons for being here as well.'.
'I may have, several, yes...', he responded, placing the book he had in his left hand on the table to his right. 'How are you ?'.
She softly smiled. 'I am good, Your Grace.'.
'I hear you've been revered through the city as a healer in the last decade I was away. Rumors say you left Ard Carraigh, and chose to live outside of the city walls, in a hut deep in the woods south on the eastern bank of the Lixela.'.
'Sometimes, it befits one, to live in the simplest of ways, Your Grace.'.
'I do not doubt that.', the king replied, thoroughly gazing at the sorceress. 'Yet, I believe my father, The King, may he rest in peace...Was one of several reasons, you left the city, and settled southeast of the capital. I'd wager, he did not like that very much either ?'.
She didn't respond, yet her red lips formed a subtle smile, while she set her eyes over the white vase of tulips and daisies, on the table to the king's right side.
The king chuckled, turning his gaze at the blue wall on the opposite side of the room, then addressed the sorceress. 'Aren't you going to ask ?'.
'Why would I ? It is none of my business. Yet, following the recent events, I'd guess...Half of the royal advisors, are keen to properly inform you about your kingdom, and matters of the state. While, the others are coming up with ways to recuperate parts of the royal treasury, your generous brother had loaned or spent. This very bathhouse, being one of the lucky few recipients, your brother chose to aid financially, circa several months before his- passing. However, since Your Highness wants me to. Why has Your Grace chose to be here ?'.
'True, I might've come here to see if the royal gold was put to good use. However, besides other reasons...I was looking for you. I knew that the owner of this establishment, would know where I could find you. He wasn't here, so I was waiting for him. But fortunately, you showed up.', he quickly answered.
The sorceress replied with a squint of her green eyes and seemed captivated in what the young king had to say. 'I don't think it is very wise for the royal guards to let you wander around the city...'.
'I agree.', the king chuckled. 'However, folk don't recognize me very often, as of yet. And, I got here via a portal Zapheir opened for me.'.
'Even so, Zapheir, could've sent me a letter, or contact me himself in your stead...', she replied, annoyed by the carelessness of the mage. 'But knowing him, he wouldn't send you here if he wasn't able to intervene.', she continued. 'So, why were you looking for me, Your Grace ?'.
'I'll put it plainly. I want you to serve as my right hand and advisor. I know you since I can remember. You served as an advisor to my grandfather, and he trusted you. I too, trust you. Even more, I don't trust anyone else in the capital, besides Zapheir. Thus, my proposal. Will you accept ?'.
'I don't think this- would be wise, Your Grace. What did Zapheir say about this ? Besides, let's not forget the fact that the royal court might frown upon your decision to name me as-'.
'I am the king. I can name and dismiss royal advisors if I want to. And, Zapheir is the one that suggested this approach.', he replied, raising from the chair while picking his sword belt from the table.
'Zapheir suggested it you say ?', she asked surprised, then paused. 'True. However, if Your Grace remembers, your father, craved for the sight of me being tied to a pillar and burnt alive. Yet, to my good fortune and surprise, he settled on having me exiled from the capital. Also, several of his advisors from then, are still present-'.
'I do remember. But, as I said, you and Zapheir, are the only ones in the capital I can trust at the moment.', he interrupted. 'Besides, we were both under the impression that you would prefer to serve as an advisor rather than a witch and a healer. Which would be a quite waste of your expertise in politics. Expertise that I need. From what I recall, you used to not be bothered with what the royal court even thought of you...'.
She remained silent for a while, then she gave a knock of her left boot to the floor, then addressed the king. 'So be it. I will accept to serve as your right hand and advisor, Your Grace.', she said approaching.
'Good.', he replied with a sigh of relief.
'Your Grace wasn't sure I would accept ?', she asked, almost mockingly.
'It would be a lie, to say that I did not have my doubts...'.
'If I had refused...What would Your Grace have done ? Burn me on a pyre...Hang me ? Decapitate me ? Flay me alive ?'.
'Nothing. It was but an offer. Not an order.', he replied, as he buckled the belt. 'I know you are mocking me...'.
'Another monarch would have my tongue for it.', she said approaching.
'Your sharp tongue is among your finest tools...'.
'You're years at the royal court in Tretogor turned you into a wise man. We can make a good king of you yet. By the way, how did Your Grace fare within King's Arbor Royal Court ?'.
'According to my uncle I did great. He would say I flourished, in a way, surrounded by the finest teachers and scholars in the north. That nor my father or my brother were as near as sharp minded and as skilled a sword fighter as I am. My aunt said during dinner one evening, that he praises me more than his own children. Fair or not, he replied that he does so, for as of yet, she didn't birth him any sons. But, I believe it was because he loved his sister, my mother, and in some way, through my wits, I might have reminded him of her...', he said, with a sigh, sliding his fingers along the side of the vase that sat on the table. 'Most of the years, I felt as if I was exiled. Casted away by my own father...'.
'It wasn't exile, Your Grace, but a move made for the sake of diplomacy, to strengthen and maintain close relations with the Redanian royal family following the passing of the Queen, your mother...'.
'I understand diplomacy, but what he did was-'.
'Of no importance anymore.', the sorceress interrupted, approaching the king, as he too stepped away from the table towards her, and once they came close to one another, she reached to arrange the collar of his coat. 'What was done in the past cannot be changed. One can only strive and hope for a better future...Your Grace is to hold the reins of power now. Handle them wisely. Use your resources carefully, and you'll be able to hold on them long...'.
'I never took you for an optimist.', he replied, gazing in her green eyes.
'That's because I am not one. Time does that to you. It rots away your hopes and dreams, and replaces them with bitterness and pessimism. Optimism is a trait of youth, and as for hope, that is a trait of the naive.', she replied, and as she finished arranging his collar, her hands were now resting on his chest.
'Therefore, that makes me naive ?', asked the king.
'No. That makes you young.', she replied with a smile. As from the corridor leading to the bathroom, an individual knocked twice on the door jamb.
'Ahem. Sir.', he replied bowing his head. 'Sorceress.', he continued scornfully. 'How's my wife ?'.
'She's feeling much better, her pains have alleviated-', she replied taking a few steps toward the door.
'Has the maid payed you, yet ?', the owner of the bath house interrupted.
'She has-'.
'Then, why are you here for ?', he interrupted again, stepping into the room. 'Wasn't it enough that my wife lost the child !? You've come to rub it in my face ? To watch as I turn and agonize in my own skin ? To smirk at my unfortune ?'.
'I'd like to remember you, that only because of me-'
'Because of you ! My child died, in the womb of my wife ! And almost took her life as well...', he said, raising his shivering voice. 'You with your foul magic, and damned herbs, and-'.
'The child died because you beaten her !', the sorceress replied, topping the volume of his voice.
He almost broke his teeth while grinding them, and his right hand's fingers cracked as he gathered them into a fist. 'How dare you !'.
'She almost killed herself this morning.'.
'What ?', he said, his voice growing weaker.
'That's when she told me. If I were a mere half of the malicious bitch you think I am, I would've let her cut her own arms and bleed to death. Hell, I would've cut her myself, and sit at her head, caressing her hair as the light in her eyes dwindled away and disappeared in the darkness of the night. But I didn't. I calmed her down, and watched over her until she fell asleep.'.
He made a few steps to the left, as he slid his right hand over the face. 'I didn't want to strike her. She- charged toward me, screamin' and cursin' and I-', he began, reaching for the chair near the door, as if he felt lightheaded. '-She fell near the table, taking down the damn table cloth along with everything on it. I- immediately reached for her, took her in my arms and-', he stopped as he sat on the chair and remained silent for a while, then raised his head. 'That- That's not when she lost it-'.
'It was.'.
'You're lying !', he screamed standing up from the chair.
At that moment, he wanted to run at the sorceress and strike her down with all his strength, but found himself unable to move. 'What is this-'.
'Orena.', the king murmured, touching her right shoulder. As she reached out toward the owner of the bathhouse, by extending her right hand and after that, in the blink of an eye, the man collapsed on the floor.
'Is he-'.
'No. I just put him to sleep.'.
They both approached him.
'Did he-'.
'Spoke the truth about me killing his child ?', she interrupted turning towards the king. 'I thought Your Grace trusted me ?'.
'I do, I just-'.
'Cannot ignore what he just said...'.
'Will he be fine ?'.
'He might wake up with one hell of a headache, but he will be fine. His wife, won't be so lucky...', she answered, now standing near him.
'Are you all right ?'.
'I'll be fine. Let's go.', Orena replied, then accompanied by the king, they left the room, and proceeded to get out of the bathhouse.
'How did you get yourself into this ?', the king asked as they stepped out of the bathhouse onto the busy streets of Ard Carraigh, while he shut the door.
'I received a letter one morning, requesting that I show up at their residence posthaste. And I did...When I arrived his wife was in much pain, so I used magic to calm her and ease her pain. She was to give birth in a fortnight or so. To avoid unwanted complications, I spent the day and the following night at their residence. Past midnight she started to experience great pain, then a few hours shy from dawn, she entered labor. And a few hours later she gave birth, but the child had been dead- for some time...', Orena answered, looking up, at the side of the roofs extending toward the main street, the furthest being engulfed in a thin layer of fog highlighted by sunlight. 'In a way it is my fault, for I did not examine the mother or the baby for traumas, nor did I think to question the maids...'.
'There's no way you could've known.', the king replied, trying to comfort Orena.
'It is. It seems that the years I've spent in solitary, made me forget how deceiving people can be...', she replied, then opened a portal. 'I'll go pick up my things. I'll see you and Zapheir at the palace.', she continued, then stepped through the portal, which closed behind her. While another opened to the left of King Toran.