Chapter 2 -- Alexias, Princess of Kuman

Dedicate Lark was wandering around the city of Summersea. She and Rosethorn had gone into town to sell their wares, and she'd left Rosethorn and their charges at the booth so that she could do a little exploring.

Lark loved the city. Before becoming a dedicate, ever since she was eleven, she had worked as a tumbler, traveling from city to city. She'd loved her life as a tumbler, constantly seeing new places and meeting new people. Even now that she was a famous mage, sometimes Lark found herself longing for that carefree life.

As she browsed through the market, a sudden fog filled the area. Startled, Lark glanced up just in time to feel strong arms surround her and pull her out of the crowded square. Right before they forced her into a drugged sleep, she noticed their clothes. They wore soldiers' uniforms -- dark gray pants and long-sleeved shirt with a large washer surrounded by a black circle on either arm. The uniform of the Northern Plains.

When she woke up, darkness had fallen. Lark found herself lying in a covered caravan. The only light came from a small lamp on a low desk where a man was bent over, writing. In the dim light, she could barely see him, but considering who had kidnapped her, she had a strong suspicion who the man was.

"Hello Norro," she said, using her nickname for him.

Startled, Anorran jerked up, his pen and paper flying off in opposite directions. "Alexias! You're awake."

"Lark," Lark corrected him.

"Huh?" Anorran asked, as he bent down to collect his things.

"My name is Lark now, not Alexias. Dedicate Initiate Lark," she added for emphasis.

"Yes, yes, I know. You've managed to make quite a name for yourself, Alexias. I'm quite impressed," Anorran said.

"Do I detect sarcasm in your voice, Norro?" Lark asked.

"No," he said, after thinking for a moment. "I really am proud of all that you've accomplished since you left me."

She didn't miss the pain in his voice. "Norro --" she began, but he interrupted her.

"It's Anorran now, King Anorran."

She crawled over to him and sat opposite him at the table. "I'm so sorry," she said quietly. "How long ago did it happen?"

"Not long ago. I've actually spent the time since his passing trying to track you down." He gave her a shy smile. "I'm still not used to being king," he admitted. "But you should address me as such."

"Nonsense," Lark said. "You need someone who won't treat you as if you were sacred." She leaned over and patted his tidy black hair. "No matter what you say you are, you'll always just be Norro to me."

He ducked from under her hand. "And you'll be Alexias to me, but you've already resisted my calling you that."

"It's too hard," she admitted. "I had to give up the name when I left here. I didn't want any rememberance of what I'd given up."

"And what's that?" Anorran asked.

"Everything!" Lark exclaimed. "You've never lived a day as a regular person, let alone a poor one. It was hard Norro; it really was. I had to work harder than I ever had in my life just to earn enough money to stay alive. I would pray every day that I would never get sick and that I could make enough money, and I had to pinch all the money that I did have. I was cold, hungry, exhausted, and filled with worries. Worse of all was when I actually did get sick. I thought my life was over then! All I could think about was running back to Kuval and begging to be a royal princess again." Lark took a deep breath. "But more than the money and the power, the thing I regreted loosing most was you."

"Really?" Anorran said with cool skeptism.

"Yes really! I care about you very much!"

"Then why did you leave?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly from hysterical emotion.

"Oh Norro," Lark said gently as she brushed her hand against his face. "Don't think that it was because of you."

He jumped up suddenly, overturning the table between them. "How can I not?" he asked wildly. "What did you think I'd assume?"

"Norro, it was just -- things. Not you."

"What things?" he challenged.

"I didn't want to stay in Kuval and be some figurehead," she said, standing so that she could look him straight in the eye. As children she had been several inches taller, but now he was the one with the height advantage.

"I wanted -- I needed to go out and see the world," she said calmly. "If I had stayed, I would have become nothing more than the wife of the king and the mother of Anorran XIV. I needed more. And I got it." She gestured at herself. "I've worked as a tumbler. I've traveled from Emelan to Yanjing in the east. I've become a temple dedicate and a mage. A real mage!"

Lark paused a moment and then continued. "That doesn't mean that I've forgotten my past in the Northern Plains or you. It's still my home, and you're still my love."

He smiled slightly. "You still call it the Northern Plains."

Lark shrugged. "I know it's a silly habit, but I can't break myself of it. Everyone else in the world calls it the Anorran Empire or just Anorra."

He smiled sadly. "I've missed you so, Alexias. You don't know how mind-numbingly dull the past years have been."

"I can guess," Lark said. She paused a moment and then asked, "So, tell me Norro, when are you going to ask me to marry you?"

Anorran stared at her in shock. He'd forgotten her old ability to read him as clearly as a book. "How did you --" he began.

"Why else would you have kidnapped you former betrothed?" she asked rhetorically. "Certainly not to take to meet you current wife." Anorran looked seriously at her. "You don't have a wife, do you?" she asked.

Anorran laughed. "No, of course not. You were right the first time." Lark hit him gently, and he easily caught her second blow in his hand. "So, what about you? Do you have a husband? Or anyone special?"

"Only Jem, my son," she said. "But he's a student at Lightsbridge far away from Winding Circle and me. He's nearly grown, anyway." She sighed and sat back down. "Soon he'll be a real mage and travel, rootless and independent."

Anorran sat down next to her. "I see. What about his father?"

Niko's face instantly popped into Lark's mind. "His father and I are just friends," she said. "It was just a mistake that brought us together."

"Meaning, he doesn't love you as much as you love him," Anorran translated.

"It's not just that," Lark said defensively, and Anorran laughed. When his laughed subsided, she explained, "Niko is a mage. He does have, want, or need anyone to tie him down. I used to -- used to, Norro! -- have feelings for him, but those have subsided."

"Niko, do you mean Master Niklaren Goldeye?" Lark nodded. "Well, Alexias, I am impressed. But then I suppose you famous mages have to have each other's children. Can't dillute all that magic with a normal person, afterall."

"You've heard of him?" Lark asked. "I didn't know news traveled that far."

"Of course we've heard of him. We've heard of you, too."

Lark was shocked. "Me?"

"Of course! Did you know how famous you've become? We didn't realize it was you, though. Everyone just called you Dedicate Lark, not even hinting that you were from the Northern Plains."

"Well, for the non-inhabitants, the Northern Plains is one large enigma. Few people go in or out of there. Obviously I couldn't draw attention to myself."

"Obviously," Anorran said. There was silence between them for several minutes which he broke. "So, will you marry me?" he asked awkwardly.

"I don't see that I have much of a choice," she teased. "You have kidnapped me."

"I won't hold you here against your will!" Anorran said defensively.

"Then why did you kidnap me?"

"I just -- I wasn't sure that you'd even talk to me. I just wanted to see you again," he protested. He paused and said seriously, "So -- seriously now -- will you marry me, Alexias? I could never love anyone as much as I love you."

Lark bit her lip nervously. "Aren't I too old for you to marry? I'm supposed to give you lots of little heirs, you know."

"We'll have children," Anorran said calmly and surely. "Forget about all that. Just answer me, please."

"I don't know. I really don't know," she whispered. "I love you Anorran; I really do. But I don't know if that's enough. You're the king of the Northern Plains! A woman doesn't just marry you; she marries the title as well. And I don't know if I want that title, and. . . ."

He pulled her towards him, and she leaned her head against his shoulder. "It's okay," he said. "Just think about it, okay?" She nodded. He yawned deeply. "Good, because I'm exhausted. I haven't gotten much sleep lately. So -- if the princess doesn't mind . . ."

"Of course not."

"Excellent," he said, and with that he lay down and fell asleep instantly. Surprisingly tired herself, Lark lay down and leaned against him. Soon they both had fallen fast asleep.