The Young and Naive

Since returning to Krespania, my life has been a flurry of activity, being invited to the many celebrations that are given by various lords and ladies of the court.

I have not even found time to settle back into LunaMara palace.
And though all these multiple excursions can be tiresome, it has revived my Christmas spirit and the inner cheer that had drained away during my stay at Agmar.
The candles, the smell of cinnamon and pine, and the wreaths of greenery have washed over my cold heart like the first feel of heat from a much yearned for fireplace.
This hearth has melted the snow from the last many months that have built up a barrier around my soul, and a sort of Spring has brought forth new life and a new perspective for me.
I am once again reminded of my love for this season, and the magic that surrounds it.

But as for the parties, I know I shall soon weary of it.
For as they help mold the Christmas tradition, so does the tranquility of sitting by a hearth with a seasonal drink in hand and reflecting upon what really matters most importantly: the origin of the holiday, Christ Jesus' birth and with it the birth of hope and redemption; for without that our world would be a dark place indeed, without a pinhole of light to brighten our souls and give reason for the cheer of Christmas that inhabits each of our hearts.

I think the latter custom is more of my favorite but maybe it is only because of my personality, for most do not agree with me including some of my ladies-in-waiting.
Delfina and Gaelle breathe in any chance of a gala like a new burst of oxygen, living for the opportunity of meeting someone new, conversing and dancing, and whenever they speak it is to wonder when the next invitation will occur.
Gossipers and busybodies, I'm more often irritated by their incessant talk and other times amused that they do not aspire to anything higher than finding a wealthy and prominent husband among the visitors of my court.

Yes, everyone is scrutinized with a trained eye and speculated over.
"La, there is a new face."
"He looks young!"
"And prosperous - do you see the material of his jacket?"
"Yes, and what a magnificent shade! He must be a Duke, if I am not mistaken, and I am usually not."
"So handsome too!..." and an eruption of giggles follow.

To be sure, if there is someone new especially a gentleman, I am the first to know by those two.
Poor Sophia, the youngest of my ladies-in-waiting, and quiet and mild with her somber disposition, is drowned out by the ecstasy of them and refuses to chime in.
Because of this, I feel drawn to her recognizing a reflection of me in her, and I try to encourage her due to her lack of self-confidence.
Unlike Gaelle and  Delfina, when she has something to say it is important and everyone ceases their striving to listen, or at least should.
She is not wasted upon frivolous matters and does not pay heed to trivial things.

Oh, I do not condemn Gaelle and Delfina completely for their behavior; it is the way they were taught, and I can sympathize having once been similar.
But having more responsibility laid on me and more urgent matters to concern myself with, I found the majority of those thoughts vanished into yesteryear of my life.
Sure, I have always had the thought one day I would marry, and the idea has continued with me as the years have passed, it is just not at this time - some future day.
But once I have thought about it and no man has come along, I wonder if perhaps I will not after all. But even so, it does not bother me; I am content, whether I remain this way or God sends someone.
I leave it in His hands.

And in this way I have altered from the young, naive Emerald I was.
I do not know if Delfina and Gaelle will learn this, but hopefully they will realize there are wiser things to dwell upon then such as material gain.


-Emerald de Gavrillac
Queen of Krespania

Without An Excuse

It is time to go home - I, back to Krespania, and Hyndralad back to Isoloyia.

I have tarried too long, and although my stewards oversee the government better than is required of them, my people still wish their queen among them, as is my duty.

The Vez-Dûn king was the first to depart, having fully recovered his strength.
He regretted leaving me in the midst of my troubling circumstances but said that he had already delayed his return longer than he had previously planned.
I was sorry to see him go, and only then realized how much I had grown to rely on his company and wisdom.
He would leave a strange unforeseen gap in among my companions in the Agmar castle.

As I watched the Isoloyian vessel sail into the blue of the early morning horizon I marveled at the thought that this Vez-Dûn, who, months before I would not even have regarded as a friend, could now hold the position of a close ally I would trust to protect my brother's or my life against any evil, at the risk of his own.

And with Hyndralad gone I could no longer use the excuse to delay by saying that I was waiting for his recovery before I left.
And by delay I mean that my hope was that Lennox would return before now but alas, he has not and my duty to my country must intercede personal feelings.
So with reluctance I ready my crew to sail.

It is a curious thing, despite the successful practice of hiding my feelings or fears from those around me, King Hyndralad was somehow able to see through it and with an uncommon sensitivity, asked one day if he could send a Vez-Dûn courier to seek my brother's welfare in San Vey.
Though, that same task was well within my power to dispatch, I found the thought of the highest degree of consideration.

With those alert and skilled eyes, I can also foresee mental discomfort in certain situations in the future when I am before him, in knowing he is capable of reading those thoughts I deem only fit for my own mind.
The idea rattles me somewhat, but it would not be the first time the strength of those golden eyes intimidated me, nor the last I am certain.

But in this case I on the contrary, found it a relief that he knew and instead of looking down upon me, offered a sympathetic hand.
I declined, much against my own desire, for I would not want to disturb my brother just to satisfy my worrisome feelings.

No, he will contact me when he is ready, and there will not be a word addressed to him before that time.
So I move on and return to Krespania.

I apologize for my lack of communication this past month; besides being occupied with thoughts of Lennox, I have been engaged in various activities with the Agmarian nobles of the court that I neglected my monthly custom.
Pray, forgive my negligence.


-Emerald de Gavrillac
  Queen of Krespania

Two Stubborn de Gavrillacs

Things are proceeding as I could wish.
Hyndralad is recovering so well that, observing him one would not think he laid so very near death at one point.

Some weeks have passed, and he is already upon his feet being able to peruse the Agmar gardens at a leisure pace with the assistance of a walking staff.
And he has changed, I have noticed.
He is different from when I met him, detached and cold in Isoloyia, and even less from when he visited Krespania a few months ago in an improved manner, much to my surprise.

The illness' humbling effect has chipped away the leftover condescension and pride in the king, revealing an agreeable layer underneath of warmth, gratitude and of strength: a strength of character he may always have obtained but only recently has it come to light.
Being able to observe this angle of his soul, he appears every bit the wise Vez-Dûn as his rank and age claim.

I see less of the embitterment the world has cultivated in him toward mankind and it's follies, and more of the aforesaid nature in the way he checks his tongue when he is talking with us and restrains the negative words that might have previously spilled over his lips like water from an urn.

In this state I would not hesitate to humble myself in approaching him for advice, as a friend and as one who is superior in knowledge than I - especially when once Lennox left.

My brother continued in his brooding isolation even after we talked and he explained about our cousin.
I suppose it was not Edward's death that plagued him any more but his anger against our uncle brought on by their argument at Fyros.
This proverbial dagger in his side so aggravated that it ended up driving him away in search of fresh surroundings, namely the kingdom of San Vey.
His sudden departure worries me when I think of how tormented he was yet my powers proved useless in counseling him.

When I applied to King Hyndralad for advice he was sorry to say that there was not anything he could do and that his was “a family affair.”
This set forth such an idea that I immdediately set to writing Uncle Reycko.
With the plainest language and the use of all the pleas in my vocabulary I begged him to withdraw the orders concerning Lennox's banishment and reconcile himself to him, for the sake of his late brother, our father, and my own.

Never before had I expressed myself in such heartfelt sincerity as when I wrote this letter, and I hoped they would be just as transparent to Uncle Reycko when he read them.
As soon as the wax of the seal had cooled a courier was dispatched to Fyros with my note.

Whether he will be effected by it, I can not be sure.
But I am almost certain it would be the balm to soothe Lennox's agitated spirits.

Here I am, torn between two stubborn de Gavrillacs in attempt to resolve the feuding parties and restore peace within our family.


-Emerald de Gavrillac
 Queen of Krespania

The Story Unfolding

After the saltwater immersion was attempted King Hydralad became less respondent and even weaker as I feared.
I was on the verge of yielding to the overwhelming fact that we had failed and the death of the Isoloyian king was sure to follow.

A day passed in this grieving conviction, where he laid seemingly at the very gates of eternity that were ever opening wider to receive him.

So silent were the halls of the Agmar castle that I believed I could feel the fingers and breath of death, preying upon us in search of the wounded Vez-Dûns.
But when the soft rays of the summer sun shed itself over the morning dew, and I looked in upon Hyndralad the next morning, I was surprised to see that contrary to the lifeless coma he had been entrapped in, his eyes were open, and upon greeting him found him alert enough to answer me.

His physician spoke the words that I had so been longing to hear: the king had traveled through the worst of it, and we could now expect his recovery.
I let out a breath.
Such a weight left me as though I had been holding my breath the entire duration.
Thank You, Lord!
And I raced to wake Lennox.

From there the king of Isoloyia's recovery took flight like a caged bird with it's first chance at freedom.
The fire returned to his eye's and color was restored to his death-like complexion.
Being blessed with a strong constitution, it did not take long before he was able to leave his room, and many days passed in which we kept Hyndralad company as he rested in the shade of Agmar's palace garden.

We as in Countess Meredith, Adam Saft and some of Agmar's nobles and myself but not Lennox.
He remained withdrawn and his mood dark and brooding, though I knew he must have long been released of a much stronger stress than the one I endured while the victim lay sick.

No, it was something else that bothered him now.
And once my mind had been cleared of anxiety, I remembered what I still needed explained.
I found him back in the library, slumped in a high-backed chair and looking up at seemingly nothing.

“It took you longer than I expected, sister,” said he, as I approached.
“I suppose you will want a full explanation of Edward's death...death, that word has haunted my thoughts for too long.”
The last part he muttered more to himself than to me.

I took a seat opposite him, noticing as he turned to me the even darker circles around his eyes – hollow eyes with only weariness to set them apart from a carven, inanimate statue.
Why, he did not look much better than Hyndralad in his wounded state!

“The astrologers separated Edward, Hyndralad and I from the rest of our men, the night of our raid, and we barricaded ourselves into one of the underground chambers to protect ourselves.
“The astrologers were relentless and banged against the door with a battering ram. It would not be too long before they would breach it so we were left with no choice but to fight as best we could once they entered.
“With only three against a whole number of men, we all knew our chances of survival were slim. Hyndralad and I were prepared for this but our young cousin, with the pounding at the door filling his ears, became frantic and searched desperately for an alternative.
“He picked up an astrologer scroll of spells that lay on the floor and said that we should use it against them. I tried to convince him not to, saying that it was evil and that it were better to die than sell our soul to the devil, but Edward was determined.”

Lennox paused, and his eyes returned to the ceiling, idly.
“Despite Hyndralad and I arguing with him, he opened the scroll and began to read. I wrestled him for control of the scroll, and as his hand waved about trying to keep it out of my reach Hyndralad snatched it and threw it into the burning fire of the brazier that hung to the side of the room.
“Edward exploded and drew his sword, but as he was not as experienced as I, it did not take long to disarm him. He stood, huffing and puffing and red with fury at being beaten, until his eyes darted to the floor.
“Before I could foresee his intentions, he picked up a fallen astrologer shuriken and flung it into Hyndralad's chest – the same poisoned blade that nearly took his life.
“I forgot to mention that there was a chasm at the very back of the cave, dropping hundreds of feet into a rocky river.”

He paused for a moment, blinking several times as if to remove the memories replaying, for I know not how many times, in his mind.
“Wounding Hyndralad in this treacherous manner enraged me beyond self-control, and I lifted and dangled him over the chasm. Such were the wickedness of my thoughts streaking through my mind at that moment, that I contemplated dropping him. But I realized before it was too late that I was not any better than he – I was letting anger take control of me.
“Hyndralad groaned on the floor behind me, and I set Edward down forcefully and ran to his side. He was bleeding tremendously. I started to tend to him when I heard a sliding and crashing sound.
“I saw a glimpse of our cousin as the ground gave way beneath his feet and he fell to his doom...”
His voice trailed off, and I wiped the tears forming in my eyes.

“Oh, Lennox!”
He laid his head in his right hand, a pitiful hunkered form of a man, and exhaled long and wearily.
“That is not all, though. When I relayed the news of his son's death to Uncle Reycko I am afraid some harsh words were spoken on both sides which resulted in him forbidding me ever to enter Fyros and myself by giving the command for Lord Carvin to withdraw any protection from his kingdom.”

Forbidding his own nephew was so very severe as was the measures Lennox took in retaliation that it grieved my heart that their relationship was so delicate and rocky.
He was our only uncle yet past actions had severed any good feelings and cultivated bitterness in my brother.
True, I was hurt, but the actions had not affected me as acutely as it had Lennox.

“Go ahead and rebuke me with your harshest words. Or better yet I will present my face for you to strike – it will be nothing I do not deserve.”

Yes, he was partly to blame for Edward's death, but I would not punish him; it was not my responsibility and he was punishing himself enough I could plainly see.
Punishment when self-inflicted was the cruelest form of all for a penitent person, and he was tearing himself apart.

I dropped to my knees beside his chair and clasped his left hand with mine.
“Edward was not innocent. He was responsible for his actions as you were for yours, and you cannot blame yourself for what happened.”
I looked up at him. “There is a time when you need to let it go and move on.”


-Emerald de Gavrilla
 Queen of Krespania

The Fist of Mortality

We gained the harbor of Uelar as swiftly as the wind permitted, and with the assistance of horses, arrived at the castle in the manner of a torrential tempest.
Their legs were not spared as neither the sails of my beloved vessel, The Golden Dawn, were in voyaging here.

Once inside the dim, musty yet familiar stronghold that I had called home for so many years, I sought where they had laid the king of Isoloyia in his weakened state.
I followed the servant to the imposing wood doors that lead to a guest chamber, and for the first time in almost a week I paused and my heart ceased it's gallop.

For many had been the images I had drawn up of the scene behind those closed doors, the last being the worst of them all.
Hyndralad de Gundalia was rapidly failing from the poison inside him, and since the remedy had not been produced it was inevitable that he should decline in health to a frightening degree.
I hesitated because I feared what I would see.

“Courage.” I murmured to myself or rather prayed for and took hold of the door handle.
The portal slid open noiselessly, and I stepped in.
Heavy, dark drapes covered all windows and blocked any light from entering.
A few candles burned, creating a haze in the stagnant air and curious shadows on the walls and ceiling.

And if the smoke was not enough to suffocate me the silence that overshadowed the chamber was.
Passing the two guards I approached the Vez-Dûn physician standing by his king's bed.
“How is his condition?”
The physician gave a shake of the head.
“Is the king sleeping?”
I now looked closely at the man in the bed who's eyelids were shut and appearance as pale and waxy as the candles lighting the room.
Hyndralad's expression was marked with pain that should not accompany restful slumber.
Before he could respond the eyelids flickered open, and the pupils that once were burning gold now gazed at me in a dull bronze shade.

“The queen of Krespania in Agmar?”
I forced a smile and a cheeriness that had not occupied my demeanor for a while.
“I heard you were ill and came to see if I could help your recovery in any way.”
“I am not...worthy of such.. a service from Your Majesty; You should not spend your time in vain.” His voice was faint and slow, and I was struck by the difference in the Isoloyian king.
Once strong now weak, once dominating now dependent on others, once prideful and now humbled.
It would be more becoming if it did not serve as a painful reminder of his precarious position.

I laid a hand over his in a comforting gesture.
“We always take care of our friends.”
Hyndralad's mouth stretched into a slight smile, and he closed his eyes again.
My heart squeezed fearfully as I watched his chest rise and fall in shallow breaths before departing the room.
The meeting did not leave me hopeful but more depressed and determined to return to searching.

I found the books already delivered to the Agmar library and Lennox and Adam Saft, his steward, by a table mounted high with scrolls and volumes of all sizes.
With the situation as it were the subject of our cousin evaded my mind, and after a short introduction with my brother, who looked as haggard and exhausted as I felt, we begun our search together.

Two whole days we pored over books until our backs ached, our eyes blurred and our fingers were worn down.
Adam Saft, Countess Meredith de Barra and several of Lennox's servants took part with as much vigor as their rulers put forth.
It was the second day at noon, and we were on all sides of the table when a servant called out tentatively, “Your Imperial Majesty, could this be it?”
All heads jerked to face the man, and I followed Lennox as he raced around the table.

“The symptoms are the same...” He scrutinized the page closely.
“And the solution?”
“Saltwater.”
Saltwater? Could this be true?
Saltwater! They had sailed with the victim for weeks on the very thing that could save him.
“It says to immerse the wounded in it and the poison will relinquish it's hold.”

I cringed at the thought of pouring saltwater on any cut or gash; The pain would be excruciating.
“But he cannot survive that – he is already too weak!”
“Either we try this where there is a chance of his survival or we leave him to die by the slow poisoning.”
“But what if the remedy is not the correct one?”
Lennox's face was grim. “I do not see any alternative.”

Nor could I, and I gave my consent for what could be Hyndralad's death sentence.
The command to bring buckets of saltwater from the harbor was put into action, and the servants scurried to the soundless rhythm of urgency.

As for me, I collapsed instantly in a chair along with Meredith and some of the others, too tired to move or speak.
And that brings us to this very moment, a few hours later.
I found the anxiety too much, and after relaxing some, have decided to write this account only to keep my mind from idle musings.

I hope we shall see results soon, and I pray they are favorable…


-Emerald de Gavrillac
  Queen of Krespania

The Failed Efforts of a Lady-In-Waiting

We make haste for Uelar, the kingdom of Agmar.

When first my lady, Queen Emerald, received the news from her brother regarding the dreadful attack on King Hyndralad, she immediately issued orders for her captain alerted and her ship made ready to sail as soon as possible. Now we are nearly a week out to sea and she has hardly come out of her cabin where she sits poring over the many books of medicine she had brought from the palace library. Though I know little of the evil astrologers and their methods I have heard that an antidote for the poisons they use is nearly unattainable. I fear the long life of the Vez-Dûn king may come to a rather dreadful end. But we shall not give up hope! Our Lord is able to do exceedingly more.

And yet, as heartless as it may sound, I worry most over my Queen. The manner in which she is taking this situation causes me to be most anxious over her wellbeing, both physically and emotionally. She is tireless in her search for an antidote, working all day long and even into the night. When she rises from sleep in the morning it is customary for me, Lady Meredith de Barra, her most trusted lady-in-waiting, to adorn her hair in some manner befitting a person of her high station. Only now she won't endure it. I urge her often to rest, insisting on the necessity of keeping up her strength but she will do as she wishes. The one thing she requires is a plentiful supply of strong Jomacha.

To be perfectly honest, the Vez-Dûn king hardly deserves my lady's good opinion after the cool reception we received when visiting Isoloyia. I believe at that time I made my own opinion of the conceited man very clear to her Highness. Although I must admit, he was most civil when he visited Krespania not long ago. It is this I must say for my Queen, and her brother as well, – they are intense people. When they love, they love completely. When they are sorrowful, depressed or worried, their people feel it keenly. And when they hate, it is fearsome indeed. At the same time, they can be very light-hearted and compassionate, causing them to be dearly loved by their subjects and admired by surrounding kingdoms. So even though in my eyes King Hyndralad is undeserving of their devotion, they know how to care for their friends, be they new friends or old.

In the meantime, I have little to do but wait. On other voyages my lady and I greatly enjoy the roaring of the sea and splashing of the waves. Every morning we would walk about the ship taking in the sunshine and stretching our legs. At times, on days when the going was particularly slow, we might play a game of badminton or some other such game, and at supper, we always dined with the Captain and other members of the court that accompanied us. A life on the sea can be hard and brutal, I know, but I cannot deny the pleasure I find in such trips. Alas that this voyage should be so dampened. My lady could use a holiday.

Instead I sit here alone in my own cabin adjacent to the Queen's, waiting for when I can be of assistance. The waves crash on deck and I hear the snapping and shuddering of the rigging as it harnesses the wind. Her Highness has urged the captain to spare no sail but I know she is unaware of the concern in his eyes over the great speed she asks. Still, I have faith in the experienced Captain's abilities, as does the Queen; we can rest assured of our safe, albeit hasty, arrival.

And so I shall leave you, dear readers, for now, as it is time to serve my lady her lunch and beg her once more to rest before she collapses from exhaustion. I pray the next entry will bring happier news.

With deepest sincerity,
Lady Meredith de Barra

(Blog Post Courtesy of Amy Molloy)
(http://overthehorizon-goldensails.blogspot.com/)

Upon The Threshold Of Evil

Just as the dark clouds bring rain so the arrival of a letter brings grief and mourning to my soul.
The letter was from Lennox; it gave an account of his encounter with the astrologers and the catastrophe that followed.

As with any war, battle, or skirmish no matter how much thought goes into it things will not go as planned.
For it to follow closely would be a great success.
By some circumstance that I know not how, Lennox writes that our young cousin has been killed and that he is partly to blame.
My curiosity is mad and in turmoil for along with the emotion produced by the loss of kindred is coupled the haunting fact that he was the only son of my uncle's beloved wife now deceased.
His lamentation will not be short and his pain inconsolable.

And without the justification of my brother actions or explanation my anger is aroused that he is in anyway concerned with cousin Edward's death.
I know Edward was not completely blameless by the word treachery contained in Lennox's report, and further know that my brother would not recklessly endanger another's safety.

But lo, more dark news follows further on in his letter that reeks havoc and strips my conscience of any comfort.
In Prince Edward's anger he threw an astrologer's shuriken into king Hyndralad.
The poison tipped weapon embedded itself into the King of Isoloyia's chest, and though the necessary measures of care has been taken to clean the wound for healing Hyndralad continues to draw near to the resting place of his ancestors.

His strength is steadily waning, and Lennox tells me that he fears that he will not have enough time as they are now sailing to Uelar where he hopes he will find the remedy in the many scrolls that his library contains.
The anguish of the other dilemma moves aside in reading these word as desperation has made it's way to my heart.

With every hour slowly ticking away for the Vez-Dûn king, I find it impossible to think of anything else save a solution for my ailing friend.
And now with some consideration I have derived my course of action: Two simple orders that I have delivered to my servants.
The first is to scour the library of LunaMara for any volumes pertaining to poison.
The second is to the captain of the Golden Dawn to ready my ship.

I plan to set sail for Uelar, the Capital of Agmar, with all the books collected, and there I can assist in the search for a remedy and have the enigma of my cousin's death explained to me fully face to face by my brother.

But until this crisis has been resolved for me it will be difficult to remain still, even more so through the long week that lay ahead aboard the ship to Agmar.
My questions will have to lay dormant and restrain their roving restlessness while the allotted time passes and my worries carefully subdued (which will be a difficult task to accomplish).
This peace of mind will not come without harrowing strain but is justified as being necessary for my own well-being.
I will only drive myself mad if my mentality is given full control to mull over and brood without hindrance.

I shall pray, fervently, and search as much as is in my power but that is all that can be done by myself.
It rests in God's hands – God's ever so capable hands, for He can do greatly more.


-Emerald de Gavrillac
Queen of Krespania

A Jester Before The King

“I am leaving for Fyros upon the day after tomorrow,” Hyndralad said yesterday.
With little introduction he had entered the chamber where I sat and delivered this declaration before taking a seat.

My ladies-in-waiting all were present, (except for Meredith), as were certain officers of the court and a couple of my lords.
Meredith asked to be excused from society that morning on an account of her receiving too much sun yesterday.
Her and I had played many games of badminton, and as she was not in the shade as I had been she was burdened with a radiant tint upon her skin and felt she was not suitable for the public eye.
Without her it felt a little strange since she was constantly positioned at my side.

"Has LunaMara displeased you that you should depart so soon after arriving?"
A week had hardly come to pass since he had come. 
"If so, I should be rewarded."

I jerked my head to the left to the man who spoke, who wore flamboyant colored garb and a devious smile upon his mouth.
Floki Boldlips: the jester of the court and a nuisance at the moment. 
I typically did not restrain his impetuous tongue but I would at present with such sensitive company.

He shrank at my look, and I turned back to Hyndralad, who's raised eyebrows showed his irritation at the intrusion.
"No, I immensely enjoyed your palace and wish to see more. However, that is not of my choice. A letter arrived from your brother."

"Who, the emperor of Agmar?" Spoke the sarcastic jester. 
The king of Isoloyia narrowed his eyes upon him.
"Forgive my jester, sire. He has not learned when to restrain his impudence to a more welcoming time."
I moved my foot underneath my chair and gave Floki a furtive kick.
He squeaked.
"A problem of his whole race." Hyndralad remarked with disdain.

I had not made the connection until that moment.
"You mean the Elikor Vez-Dûns?"
It was no secret that the Vez-Dûn's despised their clumsy brethren and considered them indignant.
The Elikor Vez-Dûns were everything contrary to the others; they mingled freely with foreign folk, gave their loyalty and friendship without discrimination, and most loathed of all by their brothers was their known trait of being clumsy and ungraceful.

This race could not even climb a tree without slipping to their doom.
They kept to the earth and were as light-hearted and happy as their brothers were solemn.
I think I am correct in my knowledge that their line originated with King Hyndralad's brother, Arasil Carrot-Top. 
I did not think it strange until that moment having met Hyndralad I realized how different they were!

"Yes. And you are just as bad subjecting yourself to a humble task of jesting!"
The insults fell off of Floki like water on a ducks back, and he smiled.
"Oh great-uncle, you do not mean that!"
At this I almost fell out of my chair and burst into laughter. 
Hyndralad's face became red, and I was afraid I was going to witness an outrage as explosive as a volcano.

"Floki! Take a walk!" 
The jester slunk from the chair into the recesses of the chamber, and the ladies-in-waiting shifted uncomfortably.
I put on the sternness reserved for such situations that required queenly intervention - I hoped that would diffuse the Vez-Dûn king's fury.

"You said Lennox wrote?"
This meant something had happened to change the circumstances of the fight with the Astrologers.
King Hyndralad blinked a couple of times as if he had forgotten the subject of our conversation in his irritation with my jester. 
"He told me to disclose the contents to you so as not to waste his time by writing a copy, Queen Emerald. He told me that he has uncovered the tavern of the Astrologers and is waiting for me before he makes his raid."

"Will he need my assistance as well? I can send troops with you."
"No, I do not think it will be necessary, milady. This fight is not of numbers but of wit." 
He continued, "And speaking of this, Emperor Lennox told me of your advice concerning the stalemate with the Astrologers. Your wisdom was proven as it did solve our difficulty.
"Such mental capacity for things of war is rarely found in women, no matter how great, and I am impressed. Lennox is blessed to have a sister who will support him and whom he can go to for words other than frivolous ones." 

I was immune to flattery but coming from him it was high praise.
I should have in the service of all womankind defended the feminine name, yet in that moment I cared not but to relish in those words of acceptance that I thought I would never hear from him.

The sound of a crunching arose behind me.
It was Floki drawing near with an apple he had chosen from the bowl on the table.
The spell was broken; the enchantment lifted.

I changed the subject.
"But you will at least accept passage on one of my Krespanian ships, will you not? Their speed is well-known, and you would be at your destination without delay. Your supplies can follow afterwards."
"Milady's offer is undeniable. I am grateful." 
He bowed, and to my left I saw the impetuous mouth of Floki Boldlips begin to open.
One glance at me however, and he shut it with a snap.

I am unhappy to see him go, contrary to my feelings before his arrival. 
And the palace has lost it's intrigue along with the presence of the Vez-Dûn king.
While he was here the air around him held a mystery as he himself was a mystery and his character an unsolvable enigma.

I like the opportunity of talking with him and discovering more about him. 
Because if he displayed such a dissimilar character as when we first met in Isoloyia who knew what others he had not revealed as of yet; some genial and most likely more that were hostile.
But what was the closest to his inner soul and self?

In all likelihood we will meet again, due to his helping my brother in Fyros, so I know this will not be a permanent goodbye.


-Emerald de Gavrillac
 Queen of Krespania

A Curious Alliance

The day of dread arrived that would bring the inevitable meeting with the king of Isoloyia.
It was the day I had earnestly hoped would not approach; yet it had, despite my wishes, and I would now have to face my fears.

But between the time of the news of his arrival and that day I had found a surprising and unexpected complacence in my soul and a dissolution of all those acrid abhorrences that I was certain would mark his entrance when he came.
The spell that his name incurred upon me fell away when I continued for a time in contemplation and reasoning. 

Hopefully he would not be so impudent as to insult and treat me wrongfully in my own court.
But I paused – he would not be able to help it if his disposition was so founded upon it.
But certainly his reasoning would impart to him that if any of the two of us were above the other, (though in truth there exist no such thing, for we are equals), it would be more so I in my domain and he in his.
I stopped again.
The king's pride might not let him listen to his reason.

Though these thoughts did little for the future situation, they had in fact stabilized the tumultuousness inside by emphasizing these truths: I would be in my kingdom; he would be coming to me and not I in search of his assistance; I had no favor to seek, but it would be him who would be seeking my favor – favor of presence.

This was a soothing balm that did not wear off even as the day dawned.
No matter how he would behave, I would not shy away in fright, and hopefully I would be respectful in return, even if he was not.

The morning was like any other day nearing Spring as it was, pleasantly warmer than the former temperatures had been; a tranquil azure sky contrasted against the energetic rays of the sun, and all with the distinct sensation and smell of the freshness Spring entertains.

I had been told King Hyndralad was in the city and knew the hour was ever drawing nearer in which we should meet.
With this in mind, the court hearings seemed to drone on. 
The hours moved slower than a donkey with a heavy load, and my patience waned as I waited.
And when the session concluded and the report that the king of Isoloyia was in LunaMara palace requesting an audience, I was sent into frantic throes, hastily reviewing my appearance in a looking-glass and making certain my hair was as neat as it had been when it was adorned that morning, and readjusting my clothing and hair-veil to resemble perfection as closely as I could obtain. 
My ladies-in-waiting all clamored at once that I was the portrait of elegance and beauty, yet I was not convinced.
Perfection was a close friend of Hyndralad, but was indifferent to my pursuit of a relationship.

With a powerful force I squelched my inner qualms and stilled my nerves into an assumed serenity.
The king of Isoloyia entered through the large doors at the far end of the throne room, and with a stateliness I had imagined, ascended the stairs that lead to my very presence.
An entourage of soldiers and servants followed in the wake left by his flowing blue cape, all with the same disciplined march. 
Hyndralad's air of military was further emphasized by the armor he wore, polished to a piercing glare.

He bowed, and when he lifted his head those familiar auriferous eyes penetrated my own, and the corner of his lips slightly curled in a smile that lacked the humor that usually accompanies one.
“Hail, fair queen of Krespania! Greetings from Isoloyia, and so forth.”
I returned a stiff bow atop my throne and pronounced a similar formula of the ceremonial hyperbole.
“I hope Your Majesty is enjoying good health.”
I answered in the affirmative.
There was no reason this charade of formality should continue because I knew the king to be straight-forward, therefore I did not hesitate nor think it inappropriate to inquire:
“Your visit is a surprise to be sure; what has induced a visit to our abode, may I ask?”

He raised his eyebrows as if observing me anew.
“I have long been abroad in the lands of your brother, Emperor Lennox, assisting him in his fight against the Astrologers, as you know from his letter I am confident.”
Yes, Lennox had mentioned it, and it had left me bewildered that he should come to his aid when he had not been so eager formally.

But you, my reader, are probably confused asking who the Astrologers are since I have not taken note of them before; so I will pursue a much needed rabbit in your case to explain:
The Astrologers are a hostile cult that worships the heavens and stars and dark magic and have recently cropped up in Agmar with vengeance.

Wherever they go they seek to overthrow the authorities and take over themselves, killing and destroying whoever resists their practice.
Lennox has long been at war with them, but since they are extremely elusive it produces only little skirmishes here and there and not an all out battle.
Once they retreat, it is hard to locate them again.
They are like a disease slowly poisoning the villages of Agmar with their demonic ideas and have grown so prominent they cannot be ignored.

Hyndralad de Gundalia continued, “They had barricaded your brother in Fort Carvin, and my men and I were separated to the outside. We had been fighting steadily for some time before your brother joined in, and since we were not availing in any way Lennox suggested I take rest. I already had business to conduct here, therefore I thought this to be the most opportune location.”

“What other business must be concluded in Krespania?” I felt it was necessary to know.
“To speak with your lady-ship directly.”
Another bewilderment!
What could he have to say to me, for whom he must certainly regard with condescending disdain?
He probably looked at the landscapes and cities of Krespania as he arrived, with disgust, viewing them as the rags of poverty compared to the glories of Isoloyia.
But his austerity made it impossible to deny him.

“Would you like to view my gardens?”
It would provide some privacy if it was called for.
King Hyndralad nodded, and we left the dim interior for the sunny landscape.
I was conscience of the returning sense of diminutiveness as I walked alongside the massive height of the Vez-Dûn king through the gravel pathway, walled on each side with green hedges.

“This is stunningly beautiful,” He rotated his head in observance of the many rose bushes in neat rows, preparing to bloom, and the trees overhanging the grove path.
“As it is with the palace itself... and the mistress of it all.”
I risked a glimpse at his face.
Was I supposed to be flattered? I knew not how to take it.
He spoke of other trivial things that I dared an answer. 
Yet as far as my disposition went, I would say it was not grass we trod on but pins and needles.
Would one wrong answer induce him to explode in a raging temper or was he more stable than that?
I feared no bodily harm – Jokthan and Joktan, who were not far behind, would prevent that.

I was just not well enough acquainted to understand his personality.
And if I thought I was beginning to his next statement proved otherwise.
“I have come to you with one express task in mind; Though I find it difficult, I will not divert, for I have determined to go through with it. When we met last I treated you treacherously ill and not deserving of a descendant of Cedric de Gavrillac, and I wish to implore your forgiveness.”

My breath caught, and I looked at him half expecting this to be a jest. 
No expression carved itself on those stony and pointed features, and I had to assume based on his characteristics of being honest in every situation that he was sincere.
“But would you suffer such an apology to me without the claim of the de Gavrillac surname?” I wondered but hardly dared to voice. 

The king had already stated the confession was difficult, I would not wish to stir up regret and perhaps end for all any communications between our kingdom by antagonizing him.
Instead I said, “Since it is not in my habit to withhold forgiveness from any one, you shall have it, sir.”
“In the future if you ever have need, I will not hesitate to fulfill your request.” Hyndralad gave a bow in gratitude.

I returned the offer having the feeling that this was the foundation of a curious alliance between our countries.
But would it retain the strength to continue or would it fail in the flower of it's youth?
And what had brought about this transformation in the king of Isoloyia to be able to bring himself to apologize? Or even to invoke him to leave his Vez-Dûn palace and come out into the world after so many years?
And let us not forget his taking part in the fight against the Astrologers.
These surprising ingredients were all stirred into the large cauldron of wonder to simmer and cook till I could withdraw a satisfying answer from the reduced remains.
Until then I was confused.

Perhaps Lennox had something to do with it, seeing as Hyndralad had been with him for some time in Agmar.
We began our walk again with me feeling a little more relaxed and more congenial toward our guest than I would have imagined I would ever be.


-Emerald de Gavrillac
 Queen of Krespania

To Flee Or Not To Flee

A strange report reached my ears nearly a week ago; my sentries have sighted Hyndralad de Gundalia, king of Isoloyia, at my borders and since then traveling through my land seemingly with Estrillo, my capital, as his destination.
My mind was brought to confusion upon hearing this news.
What could it mean, I puzzled?

Our last encounter was less than cordial, having found him resisting any sort of assistance in the on-going war, and only after some persuasion on my part did we receive the dreadfully needed supplies and sustenance in order to keep us alive and strong enough to help our brothers in the battle against Palkaan the Tyrant.

His aloof and detached civility resulted in my conclusion that we would never meet again – especially by his leave, yet there he was in my kingdom.
I immediately brought the morning court to an end and arranged for my counselors to meet me in the conference chamber.

Their verdict was simply stated: we could not forbid him to enter on suspicion that he might harbor ill-will and pernicious intention toward us.
And in all honesty he has not exhibited any signs to warrant that assumption.
I only find it surprising that he should visit me, and must wander why.
Given the fact that the King of Isoloyia is not friendly, I am inclined to think it would be for the worse.

Therefore we must receive him with every royal courtesy for diplomacy's sake, whatever his purpose for coming.
We adjourned, and I withdrew to the gardens.
The sky was clear with the exception of the brilliantly lit orb suspended midway in it's blue folds.
It was an unusually warm day for February, and the fresh air was reviving.
Once my lady-in-waiting and I were alone I turned to her with some apprehension weighing my conscience.
“Meredith, what would be the consequences following a queen who participated in a long horse-back ride so that she avoided a certain noble personage?”

“I am afraid such an act would result in Her Majesty being subject to open disapproval and ridicule.” She replied.
“But I know Her Majesty; her duty is nearest in her mind, and no matter how hard the task is she would not avoid it.”
The answer was without pretense and straightforward.
I squinted past the the lifeless foliage surrounding me and the morning sun to the tall trees at the northernmost part of the palace.
I gave a wry smile.
“You must know her better than I... I just do not wish to be under that heavy gaze of reproach again. You cannot fully understand how it made me feel - small does not compare!”

“Milady, I thought you did rather well at the situation.”
“but it took every ounce of courage inside of me to stand up to such an imposing figure! I felt weak, and I loathed it.”
Meredith smiled. “Your Majesty has a strength within that will endure any situation. You will stand up to him once again. But perhaps we will find His Majesty of Isoloyia changed in disposition since last we met and more tolerable.”

“Perhaps so – I hope so! But I have my doubts.”
We walked along the stone pathway and talked of other things, yet amidst it I found the disturber of my peace not easy to forget, and the looming encounter something to dread.


-Emerald de Gavrillac
Queen of Krespania

Troubadours and Acrobats

With the passing of the holiday season and the activity it produces, life has returned to it's normal rhythm- with the exception of myself.

Somehow the schedule I have at LunaMara seems hardly enough.
After waking and eating breakfast, I go to the royal chapel to pray and reflect upon God's Word.
Then I go to the court where I listen to my subjects requests, petitions, and et cetera.
This lasts till noon, and I proceed to meet with my officials to sign governmental and political documents and discuss alterations in the administration.
But from there I have little else to do until dinner in the evening.

 I feel like any spare moment of my time must be spent in doing something worthwhile, and if not I suffer such agony.
But the reason for this is no mystery to me; the majority of the previous year was consumed in the terrible war with Palkaan, where every minute I busied myself in planning strategies, giving orders, obeying orders and moving the troops to suitable locations for the most advantage.
I was worn to the bone, and even still I remain less than fully well.

But that does not give my instinct pause.
My hands must be busy!

Wherefore I have taken to early morning rides each day and long walks through the snowy LunaMara gardens at midday.
My lady-in-waiting, Meredith, is continually cautioning me to not overtax myself, in concern for my health.
And I try, earnestly I do, to rest, but once I sit down I become so agitated and distracted with whatever it is going on, and it is not an easy thing to keep still in such a state.

A certain nobleman of my court suggested hiring a troupe of Pasarzian performers to entertain me and divert me from my anxiety, and my lady-in-waiting promptly arranged for their arrival this last weekend.
Since then they have performed every night after we dine.

And the concept has worked thus far; I am wholly fascinated by the lyrical songs of the troubadours, and am particularly drawn to the acrobats with their strange contortions and ability to balance one upon another without falling to injury.
Oh, and the ones that breath fire!
I should think it was sorcery other than the fact that such practice is prohibited.
The entertainers are quite talented.

Hopefully I will be well soon and overcome this habit I have taken too... albeit it will be some time before that takes place.

But do not worry, friend.
I shall write in the meantime.


-Emerald de Gavrillac
 Queen of Krespania