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
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
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