A memory...

Opeli had to admit that it was lovely to sit in the gardens at springtime. Every breeze that tugged at her veil brought with it the mingled scents of bluebells, snowdrops and primroses.

King Ezran was able to apply himself better in the outdoors. Opeli had tried time and again to instruct him within the castle, but she would soon catch him staring out of a window, wearing an expression that struck her with how familiar it was. How many times had she seen that dreamy look on King Harrow? Indeed, Ezran resembled his father more and more with each passing day.

She gently cleared her throat. "My lord," she said.

"I told you not to call me that, Opeli." The king lay flat on his back in the grass, hands folded behind his head, staring up at the sky. His glow-toad was not with him today.

"I know you did, my lord. But I believe you must become accustomed to wearing your titles, as you are to wearing your crown. I know you didn't ask for this, but nor did your father. He resolved to make the most of his position, and do what good he could with it."

"My father," Ezran said, and exhaled, something between a sigh and a growl. "Did you have a father, Opeli?"

"I did, once. I suppose I still do. He is a minor nobleman, a baron from Del Bar. His is a small, mountainous barony called Wedernoll, a harsh land that breeds harsh people. When I took the veil, I renounced my earthly family. Many clerics maintain ties to their kin, but I had no desire to see mine again."

Ezran sat up, suddenly interested. It seemed it had never occurred to him that Opeli must have come from somewhere, that she hadn't just sprung up fully-formed in the convent. "Why? What was wrong with them?"

Opeli considered. "I simply didn't have fond memories of my home. My parents were betrothed as children. It was a sound political match. I don't think they ever loved each other, and they did not know how to show love to their children. Marriage and family were duties to them, and unpleasant ones, like tilling a field or hauling stone.

"In Wedernoll only sons inherit. My eldest brother Dunstan was groomed to be my father's heir. My younger brother Willem loved chivalric romances. He squired under Duke Bastien, one of King Florian's favoured thanes, and after his knighting, he volunteered to go to the Xadian border. He was killed fighting Sunfire Elves in some pointless skirmish.

"My two sisters and I were to be parcelled out as brides to mountain lords, to strengthen my father's connections. My elder two sisters were obedient, but… I could not do it.

"I could not stomach the thought of spending my life in some grim feasting hall, bearing children for some brutish baron. I could not face becoming my mother, a silent ghost of a woman confined to a stone chamber, doing her embroidery, with no personality or spirit left in her.

"So I left. I had always been a good student, although my father did not approve of young maidens reading. I was only permitted to study religious texts, and even those were given to me grudgingly. Fortunately, I was devout, and meditating on those words of faith were a solace to me. I came to the Cloister in Katolis and took my vows as a sister… and, well, you know the rest."

King Ezran was staring at her open-mouthed. "Opeli… I had no idea! That's horrible!"

Opeli shrugged. "That is the way of the world, my lord. There is nothing unique about my story. The same tale is playing out under every roof in this city, even as we speak. The same indifferences, the same petty cruelties, the same spirits dulled by oppression, the same dreams broken in childhood. Your parents were exceptional. They chose love. They were remarkable people in many ways."

"But, Opeli," said Ezran, frowning. "You didn't do what your parents expected of you. You didn't follow tradition, like you're always telling me to do. You did things your own way. In fact, you ran away from your duty!"

Opeli laughed. "The people call you Ezran the Kind, but in truth you can be a very hard judge. There is no judgement so harsh as that of the truly virtuous.

"But I do not see what I did as running away from my duty. I believed my duty was to find somewhere I could use the gifts I was given. I had to find my life's purpose and devote myself to it wholeheartedly. It would have been wrong of me to wed a man I despised while dreaming of the life he took from me. It would have been wrong to bring up children I could not love, resenting them as a burden, and weeping for my own lost youth."

"It would have been equally wrong of me to take my vows, while feeling attached to my family, and carrying the guilt of my attachment to them. I could not live with one foot in both worlds. I had to make a choice, and then commit to it with every fibre of my being."

Opeli leant forward and locked her gaze with the king's. "Is there somewhere you would rather be? If so, I believe you must go and find it. But so long as you choose to be king, you must be King of Katolis with all your heart and soul. You must dedicate yourself to this task with each waking breath, until your breath stops, or until your heart tells you your Fate lies elsewhere."

Ezran stared at her with those wide blue eyes, like a startled fawn. Then the eyes narrowed, and his back straightened. A stateliness fell over him, like a drawn cloak.

"I'm sorry my attention wandered, High Cleric," he said. "Let us return to our lesson on the history of Duren."

Opeli smiled, and took up a heavy tome, its cover embossed with an ornate golden bloom. "Very good," she said.

Ezran cocked his head, looking at her.

"Very good, my lord," she said. "I beg your pardon."