A Suitor Dilemma

The thunder is rumbling in the distance and the slow patter of raindrops on the hard packed earth reaches my ears as I sit at my writing desk, sipping on teressa cider, a delicacy in all of Krespania.

The fireplace is crackling warmly, setting the mood for a cozy atmosphere unlike the cold, dreary weather outside, and takes the chill from occupying the stone chamber floors and walls.

I have decided to write today, having been in a dull state and having no pending tasks of the government to be performed.

I did not have an idea to do anything else so I thought I would write the latest occurrences of interest here in LunaMara palace and Krespania.

It involves my lady-in-waiting, Meredith de Barra.

I have mentioned her in my other writings but have not really dwelt upon her in length as now is necessary.

More loyal than any other acquaintance or so called friend, she has been with me since I gained the royal position of queen in Krespania.

Her hair shines like the evening sun through autumn leaves in a brilliant red hue and is as flowing as the gentle ripples upon a lake. She speaks with a soft accent as one who hails from the north-western regions of Krespania, and is everything that is dignified in the way she talks and moves, yet she holds a mildness in her temper and a patience so far from pride or arrogance.

Having all these attributes in her favor, I could safely say that if I could hear the inner thoughts of all the ladies in the court, I would discover she is the envy of them all.

And it is also a fact that all the eligible young men of my court vie for her attention.

From this the problem comes forth.

As I said before her loyalty is so dominant that she feels it is her duty to remain at my side and do my bidding, never thinking about herself or her future. Therefore she feels that having any attachment would interfere with her task of waiting on me.

That was fine for me, until recently when a man in his early twenties came into the court.

He is from Natilia, a region in western Krespania, and his name is Luco Giovanos.

I met him officially when he entered the court, and found he is here on business, and by this had opportunity to observe him closely.

Luco has close-cropped brown hair, and his height is tall and stately.
He has eyes as deep blue as the Crustallum ocean in the winter, that hold an intensity in their gaze as if he can see right through to your heart.
He has a serious air about him and polite, though somewhat quiet, as if he does not desire to reveal much about his work or self, yet not suspicious, just reserved in his behavior.

Overall I found him instantly to be very charming and handsome but having a graveness like he had experienced all the cruelness this world could offer and been made harder for it, and skeptical. Skeptical because he now does not trust anyone easily for fear they will deceive him.
But when he smiles which is not too often, it is gentle and softens the hard look in his eyes, giving him an easy-going and handsome mien.

This is purely my own theory and observation that I have gathered and not fact, but I am fairly certain it is true in some ways.

Meredith's reaction to the attention of her admirers is what you would call indifference. She will be polite but does not encourage interaction or pursuit of her affections.

She is modest, and dislikes the attention, and would probably much rather be left alone, but that is not something that will occur.

Since the first time he visited I could tell Lucos took a liking to her, and after many meetings I find she might also be attracted to him. It is very hard to distinguish it in her but she tends to have a little more cordiality toward him, and I think I can take it as a good sign of attachment.

And what I meant in the aforesaid many meetings is that he seems to frequent the court more than usual for a man of business who has little reason to. And when he is there I catching him often with his eyes discreetly upon Meredith beside me, and when in conversation with me, he is too distracted to make any proper dialogue.

I think this is amusing to watch. First, because the court can be tiresome, and second because he, a man that seems to have little sentiments or feelings, actually is smitten by my lady-in-waiting.

It is sweet to be sure.

But the only thing I fear is that she is putting herself on guard against any of his advances that he has made and will not let herself love because of the notion of duty to me.

I have always said that she could marry any one of the noble men of her choosing if she wanted, which is far better than most could contrive, having status and wealth, but she is not effected by that fact.

Partly, I know, because she wants her marriage to be one of love and not of material gain, but I think she may also feel she is obligated by her duty to stay by my side because of her eternal loyalty.

But this loyalty may end her chances of happiness if she allows it. I can tell he is a caring and considerate man, who I think, she will be happy with, but if she continues to resist his effort he will surrender and leave.

Anyway, that is the problem, and I would never want her to be unhappy, especially on my account, so I shall try to encourage her about him, and perhaps concoct reasons to invite him to LunaMara more often for events of leisure.

I can be quite conniving when I want to be, and I think my brother Lennox can vouch to that fact.

I will think up a scheme, and deploy it with speed if all comes to worst.

-Emerald de Gavrillac

 Queen of Krespania

A Mysterious Enigma

I do not know how to begin this time.

My thoughts are in disorder and confusion upon some recent puzzling, discoveries I have made, and I have yet to find a solution where they fit in. I have mulled over the clues, posed probable conjectures, but none with any success or evidence.

As for Kordana, they are still under siege. The little kingdom is putting forth a good struggle for their freedom, and I cannot blame them. I would do the same if I was in that predicament, gathering any means of defense against the enemy. But the Lorates are merciless, continuing to assault them without pause, and slowly bringing their shields down.

I am still in indecision whether we should take part in this war. I have not received permission, so I dare not make a move until I do, but I have been watching the conflict and monitoring their movements even so.

But I suppose you are desiring to know the source of my puzzlement and dislike your curiosity being so teased, therefore since I have no scruples, I will tell you the events in which my suspicions and mystification were born.

In the early hours of each morning I take a horseback ride through the peaceful countryside of Krespania. I ride in the forests spread throughout the land some days, over the hilly country farther East the next and down into the dales in the lowlands another.

And that was precisely what I did a few days ago.

I hope you do not pass it off as mere residential pride when I say that Krespania has the most lovely and peaceful lands; I easily find contentment and pleasure here, and it holds a special place in my heart.

I chose to ride through the wood that day, and it proved to be a glorious morning for it. The sun was shining brightly in the eastern sky, but the air was still fresh with the coolness of the morn.

I rode out into a grassy clearing, near the estate of my counselor, Lord Zakar Priseri's, when I was stopped by an odd observation.

From the distance I was situated in, I saw what seemed to be a small caravan heading down the grove of the estate, and it raised such curiousness inside, that I could not instantly depart from there without it being in some way satisfied.

It was highly unusual for him to be receiving so large an amount of merchandise or whatever it was, at one time. And where could it have come from, and what means was he getting it by?

“Is this not out of the ordinary, Meredith?” I turned to look at my lady-in-waiting beside me on her own buckskin colored steed. “What could the contents of the caravan possibly be?”

“Indeed, Milady, I would not know. Perhaps it is purchases he has made with the merchants in the port at Saundros.”

“Could be...” But I was not persuaded.

And then another instance occurred when, after hearing news of Kordana and how they were falling, I wanted to estimate how long it took before they did.

Being our ally, I thought we might have a map or something of their fortifications, and if we did, it would be in the archives.

The chamber where the archives were kept, was a medium sized room, and with no windows, it was lit only by candlelight. A dank, earthy odor that usually accompanies books and old manuscripts occupied the space, and articles of parchment filled cases running along the walls.

This was not a particularly enjoyable place to me, and yet it held information of various kinds and from knowledgeable sources. From historic events and records of the royal family, to details and reports of the buildings of the palace.

Anything I wanted to know was to be found here.

A scribe, dressed in a plain brown, woolen tunic appeared at my entrance and asked to be of assistance.

I promptly told him what I wished for, and he nodded before turning to search along the shelves.

“Here it is, Your Majesty, the fortification designs for Kordana.” He laid the parchment on the table located at the back of the room, and I sat down to study it.

The drawing showed their defenses to be well built, but how well they could withstood the forces of the Lorates I knew not.

“But these are not likely that accurate, is it?” I asked, as I looked it over.
I had never requested a survey of Kordana, therefore if we had any of their designs it must be from the time of my mother's reign, nearly two decades ago. 

“Accurate, Milady?” He looked confused.

“Yes, as in by now they have probably made more modifications.”

He shook his head, and it was my turn to be confused.

“I hardly think any alterations could be made since this time.”
His certainty was obvious, which made me wonder the reason for it.

I asked why he thought so.

“Naturally, they have not had time because of the siege of the Lorates.”

I started at this, and sat up straight to look at the man.

He was making it sound as if this was recent.

“What is the date on this document?”

“It was written a little over a month ago, after Milady sent the Krespania ambassadors to tour the kingdom, and bring back a report.”

I sent them? I did not remember requesting any such thing, which was very alarming, because they received orders from someone.

And a month ago. That would place it a little before they were attacked by the Lorates.

“By who's orders was this tour made, in my name?”

“Lord Zakar Priseri.” Came the unexpected answer.

Zakar? Him again. And it is not only my imagination or suspicious view of him this time.

The facts were right before me.

But why? That was not something I could answer, and I had not a clue or inclination to without sufficient evidence.

So I continue to keep my eyes about me for any further suspicious activity, especially involving him, and am searching for the answer to the contents of the mysterious caravan and the unauthorized survey of Kordana.

It is puzzling indeed, but I have confidence that I will uncover the truth soon enough.

-Emerald de Gavrillac

Queen of Krespania

News of War

War is looming;

Like a massive dark cloud, it overshadows and threatens with ominous vengeance. It's actions, and the basis upon which they operate, are purely malicious. Furthermore, the victims of such an unnecessary procedure cannot combat or resist such an attack, especially when they are not equal in power, and then they are obligated to depend upon another's goodwill for relief

That is the case at present; not Krespania, mind you, but a small kingdom, about half the size, that neighbors us.

A much larger and more mighty kingdom has arisen, and besieged Kordana. Their leader is one that is an enemy of us all; greedy and power hungry, he will not stop at anything to vanquish kingdoms, and plunder their possessions. Deak Codra, the prince of Lorate, stoops as low as too attack even the most defenseless nation, and all for gain.

A few days ago, I was brought news that Kordana is being besieged by the treacherous cutthroat.

It distressed me, and at the same time, provoked me to anger that such as he should attack a small kingdom as Kordana. Their neutrality and serenity of state is not deserving of the treatment that is being wracked upon it, and I know without a doubt that they will fall to Deak Codra before long.

After this revelation was acknowledged, I found myself sitting on my throne with displeasure so great as I could think of nothing else. The only other persons in the great hall was my two bodyguards, Joktan and Jokthan. Tall, musclebound and darkskinned, these servants were gifts from Dastrias, king of Pasarz, and had proved themselves as loyal bodyguards, that I trusted with my life.

The two stood like statues at the sides of the podium that my throne was located on, and in their hands they wielded magnificent scimitars, to the misfortune of any would-be assassin or troublemaker. They bothered me not, and were so silent as that I would forget their presence there.

I felt I could not stand by, and let another country fall to desolation in the clutches of the Lorates, and that I must assist in someway. So strong were my feelings that they could not be repressed, and some justice must be done by them.

Therefore I called immediately for my servants, who were prompt to come forth, and gave orders to summon to the court my counselors.

Little time passed before all four of them entered the room.

The first was Andro, a man in his mid-fourties, who had served my mother well, years past, in the same position. His advice was most respected, and regarded with the utmost interest, having been proven to be accurate many times.

Then came, Kemen Vos, Gonzales the III, and Zakar Priseri.

Of them all, Zakar, I found, was the most arrogant and troublesome. His advice frequently conflicted with the others, and he seemed only concerned about himself. He would become angry if what he said was not followed through, and in my opinion was a nuisance.

“Gentleman, I have received distressing news that you may, or may not, have heard.” I said, rising from my throne and descending the stairs of the podium.

“The Lorates have attacked Kordana, and are at this moment bringing it to it's knees with sieges. We all know how strong Kordana is, and it takes not a clever prediction to tell that it will soon fall.”

I glanced at their faces to ascertain whether they felt any compassion or sympathy. Their countenances showed them to be pensive and attentive, but nothing else was revealed.

I turned sharply, and walked with slow, determined steps as I continued speaking.

“I have called you all here for counsel on the course of action that is to be taken on our part. I suggest we aid the Kordanis in their struggle against the Lorates, and rescue them from the peril of being lost to Deak Codra.”

I again pivoted around, but this time to be able to see their response.

“Are you implying that we go to war against them?” Kemen Vos asked, in his usual soft spoken accent.

“I am not implying anything; I am stating my opinion, and asking for your advice on the matter. Shall we intervene, and assist so little a nation, that we know without aid they cannot survive? Or remain here, and let them be crushed under the tyrant of Lorate?”

Gonzales the III stepped forward, the statistical one, that studied the smallest aspects of everything. “Your Majesty, such a decision cannot be made in this short of time. We have not properly accounted for all the advantages, and disadvantages, an action like this would cost Krespania, nor do we know if our troops could even support an attack against the Lorates.”

“My thoughts were the same on that matter, that is why I employed my commander-in-chief to number our soldiers a week ago. A dispatch arrived yesterday from Emilio de Casimiro, with the resulting sum of 45,000 foot soldiers, and 20,000 horsemen. And this is only from the capital Estrillo, not including the outposts on the outer rims, that house many more.

“We have been blessed with an abundant military force, and I think it is safe to say we have no worries on that head. Even more so, hearing this deepens my inclination to assist Kordana. For if we have been blessed with not having any worries of being overrun, should we not, who are capable of much strength, help those of the nations who are smaller, and lack resources for sufficient defense?”

I walked to the opening that lead to the balcony, and as I waited for an answer, gazed over the dales and flat fields that bathed in the warm afternoon sun. The view retained a tranquil effect, and my eyes roved over the smaller hills, where the wheat waved and rippled in the light breeze, and then on to the high mountains in the background. They were only dark outlines in the hazy sky, but seeing them made me think of the kingdom that lay a distance past them, and how, quite contrary to this scene of serenity that I know enjoyed, their fields probably raged with fire, and their village homes in ruins.

I was brought out of my reflection by Gonzales the III, who responded, “Very well, Your Majesty, I am satisfied, if it is what you desire. I have not any other objections.”

“Are there more objections or advice any of you would like to give?”

“Whatever Your Majesty wishes to do, we are supportive of it.” Kemen Vos declared, and Gonzales the III nodded in agreement.

I was pleased that they submitted to the idea so readily and agreed that something must be done. But then came Zakar Priseri's voice to my ears.

“That may be all very kind and generous, and you may speak the truth, but, Your Majesty has to think of the consequences that taking such an action would produce.”

“Such as?”

“In the past the Lorates have never attacked us; they have not even warranted the title we have given them of being enemies.”

“They are everything that justice and virtue condemn! They obtain not any mercy; they only seek more gain and possessions for themselves, and care not who they crush to succeed at it. The Lorates have been known to kill needlessly, pillage and burn defenseless villages, and their actions at present are proof enough of their malice. Kordana cannot match their attacks, and Deak Codra knows that. That is the reason for his siege, because it is such an easy prey, and will be taken without difficulty.”

Zakar shrugged. “Well, then, think of the kingdom; Krespania must remain neutral if she is to enjoy many years of peace. If we respond to this, we will be outright defying Deak Codra, and will be making ourselves his prime target in the future. Not only that, but all our other enemies will see this as an opportunity to have revenge upon us, and then there will be no peace.”

I was indignant at his reasoning, and frustrated that he always seemed to object to every idea I applied to their counsel. And yet, what was more irritating was the slight truth in his words; they would be voiding the peace that had been so plentiful these past years, and this thought alone made me hesitate.

I had to think of the people of Krespania, who would bear the consequences of any actions that I took, good or bad. They would feel the harshness of the attacks in the future if this did incite war, and then again they would know only peace if I remained neutral. Every decision effected them and had to be considered deeply, and gravely.

“I shall meditate on your words, Lord Zakar, and give all of you a decision concerning this matter. Thank you.” I said in dismissal of them.

As they came so they left, until there was no one else in the room except for Lord Andro. He remained where he stood through the entire exchange, and said not a word.

I returned to my throne and sat down before I spoke.

“I am curious to know your thoughts on the matter. You have not said a word, and yet you must have something to say for you to still be here.”

He came forward. “That is true, Queen Emerald. But my words are not meant for discussion by the whole counsel.”

“Oh? Then pray, tell me, what is their intent?”

“It is advice to assist you in your decision, whatever the result may be.”

I smiled curiously; I had desperately desired his counsel, and waited in anticipation.

“I cannot tell you to go or stay; because in a logical sense, their reasons are sound for remaining neutral, as is yours for going. But I will ask you this: what would God want you to do? Your decision must be based upon this, because it is the only thing that matters. If He wishes for you to go He will give you success in your conquest, but if not, failure awaits you there.”

Lord Andro's words were blunt and to the point, but it was just as I wished for him to speak; he did not spare the truth in fear of hurting my feelings. This act revealed his regard for me, that he would go to those lengths to warn me of future harm I could prevent.

And this brought on a whole entourage of thoughts. I had been concerned with the diplomatic side of the matter, and I had almost forgot the most important thing, God's guidance, and this alone was disastrous if continued in.

“Do you not think, Lord Andro, that God would want us to assist Kordana, that it would be a good reflection of our Christianity to help those in need? To offer them hospitality?”

He shook his head. “I cannot say. You are right that we should assist the weak, but you do not know what God's plans are. Suppose, for example, this is punishment on Kordana for a certain sin they have committed, we would only be interfering in God's judgment upon them, and that could result in harm to ourselves. Therefore what I urge you to do, is to ask God what actions He desires for you to take. Be sure of what His will for you is, before you make any decision.”

I stood and walked over to him, and laying my hands on his shoulders, said, “Thank you, Lord Andro. Your words are exactly what I needed. You prevented my making a serious mistake, and for that I am indebted to you. I shall do as you suggest with haste.”

I have not received an answer to my petition yet, but for now, I will make no decision, and will await patiently until I do.

-Emerald de Gavrillac

Queen of Krespania

The Arrival of Spring and A New Beginning, Pt. 2

Hello again, dear anonymous friend.
After a good nights rest, the strength of my eyes have returned, and I will resume the story of my brother's survival, who was previously pronounced dead, and his journey to Krespania:

The dinghy had been overturned by the waves, and he was left clinging to it for his life until the next day when the storm finally cleared and blue sky showed through the gray clouds.

He knew not where he was but after more hours of drifting around aimlessly in the boat he spotted land and made for it.

Once ashore he found a native of the land and learned that he had washed upon the southern shores of San Vey. The native was a regional guard, protecting the land from invaders, and knew the terrain well, therefore he guided Lennox over the rocky, treacherous mountains, across miles of land and through overgrown jungles, slashing down wild growth in the process of forging a path home.

He said that as he neared the capital city he encountered Valory D'Alvre, a San Veyan nobleman's daughter and a friend of ours from a few years back, who, because of her usual thirst for adventure was out in the wild, searching for some unknown creature.

It was an odd coincidence that they should have met, but after discovering his reasons for being there she accompanied them to the port Gansasia, where they hired a small sailboat to pass across to the continent of Asram and Agmar. The post is exceptionally slow for the reason that they are on the other side of the world, so she had not received the letter I had sent to her explaining the terrible news of his death, and was therefore mercifully spared the unnecessary mourning. I had dreaded telling her because I know how much she likes my brother, though she has not admitted her feelings publicly, I perceived it plainly enough and furthermore I believe the regards are mutual on the side of my brother. But I knew how this would effect her and was relieved greatly to find she had discovered Lennox himself before the letter.

Once they were across the channel, Lennox had chariots imported from his kingdom, Agmar, and they traveled at a swift pace to Steyloss port in Northern Agmar, where he had already sent word for his ship, The Ruler, to meet him there. There they boarded and traveled to Krespania.

His speed and determination to arrive here all proceeded from the root idea that he must be at my palace for my birthday and that thought alone is so precious to me; that he cares as much as to hastily travel across the countrysides not to miss it.

And that is the whole of it; my brother is alive and has journeyed halfway across the world in time for my birthday.

My mind is in a whirl, and I can hardly comprehend it all.

I have received a wonderful miracle beyond comparison: a chance to resolve past regrets, to speak the words that I desired to but could not any longer and to make amends for my selfish actions of before.

Not many have been given this rare opportunity, and I cherish it immensely.

Perhaps, all of the trial that I endured was for that express purpose: to teach me a lesson that would refine and better my soul, and I hope I have succeeded in the object of the lesson to improvement and not to failure.

May I welcome more lessons in the future with an open heart and not resist their values and furthermore not forget the ones I have learned in the past.

I suppose I could fill pages and pages with descriptions of my happiness and my reflections on how blessed I am, and what opportunities exist for me but I shall sum it all up in few words.

My heart feels as high as the sky, released of all it's burdens, and full of joyfulness and ecstasy to a such a high degree that I cannot contain it.

And gratitude in my heart to God is constant, forever grateful that He has allowed me to see my little brother again.

I cannot say much more to add to these above statements that will give you a better idea of my felicity so I will end with them.

Until I write again, my friend.

-Emerald de Gavrillac

Queen of Krespania

The Arrival of Spring and A New Beginning, Pt 1

Spring is swiftly approaching Krespania; I can feel it in the breeze. 

It whispers a promise of warmer weather and the delightful fresh fragrance that the flowers produce annually.

These little hints set my heart on fire with a deep yearning for the newness that the spring brings; perhaps because of all the lifelessness I have experienced the past months, both with the winter and other occasions. In those months life around me appeared to have died, to have sunk into a deep state of oblivion, where there no longer is any warmth left by the pulsing of the heart. The trees had become cool to the touch, frozen in their leafless condition and the green of the grass had faded, just as the warmth of the sun had, leaving me with a sense of coldness and unhappiness.

But now, here in this moment, my heart has found something to hold onto and to hope in again; something that livens my heart up and stirs my soul to joyfulness.

But with that I discovered something so unspeakably shocking that I must retell it as I experienced it.

It took place the day before last:

The warm rays of the sun beat upon my back as I stood out in the palace garden, relishing the comfort it produced in my soul. The feeling in itself made me give thanks and rejoice that I was alive this bright, nearly spring morning. The sun was the only thing occupying the crystal blue sky, it's light washing over the dead plants and bushes in the garden and it seemed just the heat of it warmed them from their frozen state and awakened them as it had done to me. For they appeared to have taken on a fresh look as if at once their heart had been stirred into a pulse again and life had began to flow through them.

I took in a deep breath, filling my lungs with the wonderful clean air. It was a perfect day, not to cold, and only required a thin cloak upon myself instead of my thick winter one.

“Milady, look!” Meredith, my lady-in-waiting said, by the rose garden. She was examining a bush in particular and ushered me over to it.

“What is it?” I quizzed, looking for something that might give me a clue to what she was becoming excited about.

She held a branch of the rose bush gingerly between her thumb and index finger, bringing it to my attention.

“It is budding!” Her words were filled with enthusiasm that impacted me and made me feel excited likewise.

I examined it and found her words to be the truth. A tiny bud was growing and with it my hopes of the arrival of spring.

With a joyfulness running through my veins I pressed on along the row of rose bushes, inspecting each one and finding the same rose buds preparing to bloom on each one.

I came to one in specific and paused slowly in study of it. It took me a moment to search the bush before I found one tiny bud. I smiled slowly at it in a bittersweet reverie and whispered, “Bloom well, my bush. Strive for my sake, will you not?”

This one held a special place in my heart, for it was my brother Lennox's favorite. Of all the various and diverse collection of roses I had in my garden, Lennox did not care for a single one except for the Igualian Blue Rose. It was a tropical flower I had imported from the islands of Igualian that displayed a beautiful sky blue shade when bloomed, and Lennox had instantly fell in love with the vibrant color.

I rose, and for the first time, I did not feel remorse, but a tranquil peace inside and a genuine happiness.

“Queen Emerald!” A tall man was coming forward from the palace and with long swift steps covered the far distance between the building and me.

“Hello, Lord Alessandro. How may this day find you?” I greeted him.

He was dressed in an olive green doublet with matching breeches and wore tall black boots. Tucked beneath his arm was the customary cavalier's hat that he always wore.

His slick black hair gleamed in the sun, and his eyes twinkled from his exerting walk to this place, altogether making him a dashing portrait to be sure.

Alessandro bowed and kissed my hand, looking up as he said, “Very well. And your highness? How may I find you?”

My heartbeat quickened and I relinquished my hand from his grasp, all the while practicing such composure as to assure that not anyone else could discern my feelings inside.

“I am doing fine. Nothing like a beautiful sunny day to brighten your spirits, no?”

His dark features shifted to a handsome smile and he squinted up into the sky as if this was his first acknowledgment of the weather. “Yes, indeed. A very beautiful scene, and one that your highness especially belongs in.”

I pretended not to hear his subtle complement but turned to inspect a plant with marked coyness. “What brings you here today, Lord Alessandro? Any express purpose other than to see how my garden has survived the winter?”

“Oh! Yes!” The reason had seemed to have slipped his mind until that point. “I have a surprise for you.”

A surprise? What could it possibly be? A thousand ideas bloomed in my head, but I decided to wait and see rather than follow them through.

His eyes gleamed even brighter with excitement and unmistakable mystery shined in their hazel depths.

“You will find it quite a shock, so you might need to sit down.”

I raised my eyebrow at him, dubious of his curious manner. “Alessandro, I think I am quite capable of withstanding any shock.”

“As you wish.” He said with a shrug. “But you will permit me to catch you in my arms if you fall, will you not?”

This heightened my sense of curiosity tremendously, and I searched my brain for a reason to all this mystery. What was it about?

Alessandro turned and waved at the palace and a servant, obviously stationed there for that purpose, disappeared inside.

He offered his hand, waiting for me to lay mine on top, which I did in a slow state of wonder, and then he positioned himself at my side.

We stood there watching the house and the seconds that went by felt like minutes because of the suspense I was held in.

And then a man emerged from the house and half walked-half trotted down the wide stairs of the patio and onto the vast lawn of the garden.

Once again, as I had done so many times on other occasions, my mind instantly thought, Lennox! And at once my heart leaped with joy.

Then logic took over and told me otherwise, reminding me my brother was no longer here and that it could not be him. After that realization my heart settled again, and I resumed my watch of the unknown stranger's approach.

It was hard to truly distinguish his features at the distance, but as I followed his descent from the stairs and his speedy walk to us, my mind continued to find something familiar about him; about the way he walked, his seemingly impatience to get to this location because of it. All these things felt as if they were familiar to me, and I could not shake them from my thoughts, try as I might.

Then as he came closer, my mind could distinguish his face, and what I saw shocked me behind words or belief.

My insides were a jumble of mixed communications; my eyes were telling me what I saw, and yet my brain was contradicting it with reason. Therefore I stood frozen, unsure of which to believe because it was all too confusing.

How was this possible? It could not be. I felt again as if I was a victim to my cruel imagination. It was playing it's usual games at my expense, and I could not stop it even if I tried.

But as he continued to approach me my sight overpowered my intellect despite the sea of reasons that washed around in my brain like a body of water in a storm. Could it really be my imagination? It seemed so real.

Perhaps my emotions had been too damaged that it had effected my mind also, and I was worse off than I thought.

All these conjectures raced through my mind at such a rapid pace that only a few seconds had passed in which I formed them.

But suddenly, most likely because I wanted to believe, I surrendered all reasons and yielded to the evidence before my eyes.

It was Lennox! My heart jumped with joy, daring to believe this was not a dream, as the distance between him, and I closed to about twenty feet.

He was dressed well, clean shaven as always and appeared healthy. A smile stretched across his handsome face, and I knew I could not have dreamed this up.

He was there! Actually, physically there!

At once the world started to whirl and I was conscious of Alessandro's arms around me as a safeguard for that purpose but I straightened up and remained upright with determined willpower.

“Hello sister.” Lennox said.
I bit my lip, the tears surfacing for joyous reasons, before gathering my long skirts and running to him.

In a mix of laughing and crying at the same time, we met in the middle in an embrace, and I buried my head into his shoulder, whispering, “Lennox! My dear, little brother!”

His arms hugging me had never been tighter nor my hold on him ever stronger. The embrace was full of heartfelt sorrows now carefully placated, of regrets soothingly mended and of unspeakable happiness.

My thanksgiving to God was continual in those moments we were in each others arms, my gratitude beyond measure, being able to once again see my brother face-to-face.

He drew back at arms length and looked at me. “How are doing, Em?” His tone was more serious than I had ever heard, and he looked as if he had aged in those months when he was away.

I wiped a stray tear away and mustering a wry smile, I said, “Better now that you are here. You caused me a large amount of pain.”

“I can imagine and I am sorry for having left you thinking I was dead. If there had been a way to contact you, I would have, but for a time there I thought I was going to die too.”

I noticed Alessandro and Meredith had discreetly moved out of earshot and was busy admiring plants, leaving us in privacy.

“I am only at present recovering from the horrible reality of your decease. It would be unnecessary to describe how shocked I was or how lonely I have been since then. I was the last of the de Gavrillacs and I felt it pointedly. It was almost beyond bearable but I found strength in God, and that only kept my hope alive.”

From there we walked to the orchard where he proceeded to tell me what had occurred and how he had survived the stormy seas.
But I am afraid that you will have to wait for the rest of the explanation because I have wrote on into the darkness with only candles as my light source, and my eyes are strained with tiredness.
Therefore I shall, as soon as possible, relate the whole of it to you in my next letter.

-Emerald de Gavrillac
 Queen of Krespania

Trials and Errors

It is hard to believe that it has been three and a half weeks since I received the letter concerning my brother Lennox, the emperor of Agmar's death; it seems like it has been longer.

The arrangements for his memorial service seemed to take forever, lasting for days, all the while causing me agony and pain beyond words. Though from my fellow mourner's and friends view I suppose I looked only subdued and withdrawn with an aura of sadness overshadowing me but if they knew what I felt inside it would tell a different story. I do not think any one truly knows how I feel. Nor how deep my pain and hurt lies. They give their sympathy but they cannot relate to my feelings; they cannot be experiencing the excruciating misery that pulses through me when I see the words they had written out and were awaiting my approval before engraving them upon my brother's tombstone, nor be feeling the heartache that filled me when I saw The Ruler come into port without a captain guiding it's helm.

My heart is in turmoil and my feelings in a riot but in front of them not a tear came to my eye.

Partly because of my remaining shock of the circumstances that were taking place and the other part because my feelings are better left for the secrecy and solitude of my own private chamber. Before them I severed any ties to emotions and restrained myself so extremely from thinking of anything related to my brother to prevent any outbreaks of tears or weeping in public. Even when I was alone in my own private chamber with my thoughts drifting back to days in the past and I expect the tears to flow they would not. Maybe bridling my emotions for so long had made me insensitive and locked up my heart so tightly that not a thing could bring a tear to form in my eyes. I stood in front of my vanity mirror, staring at my despondent reflection. My feelings were vivid and I felt my sadness keenly but no matter how I hurt, my eyes remained dry and refused to yield to weeping.

That was through the heart of the arrangements though. But soon afterward I was visiting the castle chapel as I do normally the same day every week and the priest must have seen my distress and detected my concealed emotions because he approached me with a comforting gentleness and inquired how I was doing.

He is a kind, elderly man, who's manner is ruled with patience, understanding and wisdom, and his heart filled with a love for serving God. He has been at the chapel for as long as I can remember and in the past he has always made time to listen to me and advise me on both matters of principles and spiritual and I had never had any trouble divulging my thoughts to him. Therefore if anyone in the kingdom could discern between my real affliction and the false facade of being tolerably well it would be him.

We had sat down in one of the pews after sending my ladies-in-waiting away so that I could speak with privacy, and I at once began to share what was on my mind to him.

He took on a quiet attentive manner as I talked and when I finished he remained silent for a minute and pondered the problem.

The priest had much to say in response to my sorrow but one in particular stood out as extremely helpful.

He cautioned me against constraining myself from tears because it was natural and necessary for proper healing and that I should not keep them bottled up as I had previously. My hurt would heal and slowly wan in the future but it would take time.

The priest then listed a few verses from the Bible that he thought would help. And since then I keep those verses close to my heart and whenever I have days when I am depressed and dispirited I read over them and receive comfort amid cloudy days when the sun does not shine.

One of them that I treasure is Psalm 94:18-19:

“If I say, “My foot slips,”
Your mercy, O Lord, will hold me up.
In the multitude of my anxieties within me,
Your comforts delight my soul.”

God's Word is a balm to my open wound, soothing and healing the most festering hurt. In verses like these I take comfort in. They remind me that God is right alongside me through all my pain and that He cares for me and will not allow anything so big that I cannot bear. Even when I felt so alone passing through these trials I know, now especially, that I was never alone. When the rain poured down and I felt like I could not remain standing any longer I know He was there beside me, holding me up.

He will keep my feet from falling and one day by His guidance I will reemerge from this dark cavern I seem to have fallen in and enter into the bright light of day.

The tears do not come as often now, and I do not attempt to restrain them any longer. But I must confess that certain times they do rush back and as a flood. Such as last week when I was calmly working my tapestry that I have regretfully neglected for a long time now. All at once I noticed the particular color I was using was the very same shade of turquoise blue that Lennox favored and the hollow pit in my heart was felt distinctively, as the tears in my eyes were also. I would not admit it to myself nor my lady-in-waiting, Meredith, who sat opposite of me on the other settee working on her own tapestry, but I insisted that my eyes were tiring from the dimness of the light that the candles were producing.

Then another time came when I was alone in the sitting room, reading and I heard someone arrive and then a deep voice talking in the entry hall. Instantly my heart leaped and the thought raced through my mind that it was my brother! I rushed to the hall only to find my longtime friend Alessandro, relinquishing his cavalier hat to the servant. I do not mean to imply that I was disappointed in his coming to visit me because I enjoyed his company tremendously and it was a much needed relief from my loneliness but you can understand my crestfallen reaction.

There are many of such episodes but I would not want to bore you with my monotonous details so I shall only state those above.

But do not worry for me friend, I am beginning to act like myself more each day and I take courage that it will not be long before I come into the light of day again and hopefully having learned a life lesson or two. But until then I am just taking everything a day at a time, not looking anxiously into the future, nor regretting past deeds, and learning more fully every day how to rely on God.

Your prayers are still much coveted, dear friend.

-Emerald de Gavrillac

Queen of Krespania

Grief and Devastation

Love.

What is love? It is not something tangible or substantial. It cannot be seen nor felt physically and you sometime wonder if it even exists. It is something hard to understand, to comprehend, and yet it encompasses all of us in different ways.
It is easy to say that you love someone but to really show it in deed and acts is another thing that most of us do not achieve.

I discovered that we are all so very wrapped up in ourselves that we selfishly do not consider others, what they might be needing or thinking, even when we claim that we love them. We only look out for ourselves at the expense of our loved ones.
So I have halted myself and contemplated this fact. Is my love I claim for my family in earnest? You tend to take advantage of their love for you and in your selfish state squelch it and step all over it in your own self-pursuits. You have the mindset that their love will always be there for you and never vanish so you naturally forget about the special fact that they love you and care for you.

That is...until their gone. Then your mind continually brings back memories of their kindness and care despite your selfishness and how you in return gave them...nothing.
These are dreary and disheartening words but they are the truth.
The reason for all my melancholy is because I have (I am ashamed to admit) experienced this. I am guilty of this wrongdoing and there is nothing now that I can do to mend the way I have acted.

I am heartbroken and saddened beyond words and this knowledge only adds to my grief.
My despair is great dwelling upon the fact that I shall never be capable of returning those years of love that I have ungratefully received and that thought alone I cannot bear.
You will not understand my full meaning I suppose, unless I tell you the cause of my sadness.

I have received a letter. The outside looks like any other insignificant letter but the story it told inside was a whole different matter.
It came from Christian Bentione, Lennox’s first mate and a loyal companion on board The Ruler, Lennox’s prized vessel.

He relayed that there was a sea battle in the Arctos ocean amidst a terrible storm.  Two enemy ships that belonged to Wilson, a long time enemy of Agmar and of anyone who opposes his power, attacked Lennox’s vessel.
They saw the two ships on the horizon and one drew closer to attack, wrote Christian. He said that a well placed cannon ball was sent into their powder keg and immediately it exploded into a million pieces.
The rain came in torrents and the waves foamed and threatened to overturn their ship with their violent rushing. Lightening cracked the sky with a brilliant light and sent a thunderous rumble that shook the timbers of the vessel. But the other ship was relentless in it’s pursuit of Lennox.
Wilson’s ship circled around behind them at a distance and seemed to wait.
Christian writes that they assumed Wilson’s ship would attack at dawn and so in attempt to not alarm them that Lennox knew of their presence they preceded to keep their lanterns lit as if nothing was amiss while secretly they let out a dingy behind them with a rope tied to the ship.
They used the rope to climb down to the dingy and watch the enemy ship without the interference of the light that The Ruler produced.
And they waited.

Their estimation was correct. At dawn, when the sun had barely risen above the eastern horizon, the enemy battleship unfurled their canvas and sped toward The Ruler with intent to sink.
The events that followed were typical of a sea battle and yet the consequences were significant.
One could not tell the difference between the thunder and the rumble of a cannon as it exploded with a deadly projectile, the first mate wrote. And the two opposing forces fired upon each other with ferocity until one of Wilson’s hit their mark. It embedded the ammunition of the cannon into the side of The Ruler, the impact against the hull of the vessel exploded the side into pieces and rocked the ship so violently that my brother, who was on the poop deck issuing orders, was thrown overboard.

Christian was on the quarterdeck at the time and saw as he was hurled overboard. The waves roared and rose several feet above Lennox’s head before dropping and enclosing him in their icy grip. It was a few seconds and then his head reappeared in the dark foamy turbulence and Christian yelled for the crew to throw him a rope.
Another wave was coming and Lennox had only enough time to grab a hold of the dingy that had been torn from it’s lodgings and pull himself into it.
The wave collapsed and before the men could arrive with the rope Lennox was forced out into the sea by the effects of it.
Christian wrote that it would have been in vain to try to throw a rope to him because he was already too far out for it to be of any use and they could not at this point go after him since the battle against Wilson's ship was still raging on despite the loss of their captain.

He was distraught and at a loss on what action to take as he watched his captain and emperor in a small boat drifting out into the fierce, open sea. The rain poured down upon him and soon a wave curled up and dissolved any view he had of him.

My heart lodged in my throat as I read this and for a moment I was frozen, feeling as if I could not breath and that the whole world had collapsed on me. How could this be?
Lennox, lost in the sea? The letter drifted from my hand onto the floor below as I dropped to the couch.
My dear, dear brother! My only brother! All since childhood everything we had done had been with each other.

 He taught me how to shoot the bow and crossbow, showed me how to use the broadsword, and influenced me with a love of adventure.
He had been the one that always brightened my mood when I was unhappy and brought cheer to my heart when he arrived back home from one of his conquests.

Lennox was the only one that understood me and when I was upset and needed to tell someone he was always there to listen.
My heart squeezes so hard that I feel I cannot go on, and my eyes flood with tears at these painful memories.
Who will listen to me now? Who will make me smile in all my distress?
I do not think I shall ever be happy again. Not when my heart is so broken. I cannot bear someone else leaving me.
First Mother and Father and now my brother. I feel so alone, so cold and yet there is a numbness where I cannot feel a thing. I cannot bear it nor accept the fact but it stares me in the face.
My prayers have been constant, asking God to help me, to strengthen me, to comfort me because without Him I know I will not last.
Without Him I know I am alone.

So my closing words are these: do not take for granted those around you. Treasure each moment you have together while they are with you because before you know it they could be gone.

-Emerald de Gavrillac
Queen of Krespania