Chapter 224

There was a time when Calca thought every cheer was genuine. There was a time when she believed her people loved her as one might a mother. But now when she sat on her throne and listened to the cheers for her army outside?

'The South has declared for Caspond… or independence… how nice of them to give us an option. The Demihumans are invading… and I don't believe for one second that those are coincidences. The South sold us out to the Queen of Frost.' The grim thought was paired with her doubts, 'They're cheering because we're not killing 'them'.'

Her face was a mask of flint, devoid of expression or happiness, she lifted her eyes to look at Kelart when the slender brown haired woman put a hand on her shoulder. "Let Gustav do his work, My Queen. And let my stupid sister do the one thing she is actually good at."

It was the most withering praise Calca had ever heard in her life, about anyone. Between her words and the presently unkempt hair of her advisor, it spoke volumes about where her head was at. "You had the army raised, that was the foresight we needed… the soldiers of the South are not as good as ours." Kelart squeezed the Queen's shoulder when she felt Calca shiver a little, "Gustav can beat them. And demihumans are formidable, but so is my sister, in this at least."

Any further conversation in the otherwise empty throne room was ended when a boy rushed in, breathing hard, he wore a pageboy cut, hair trimmed near to his ears, and he could not have been older than ten. His brown eyes were big enough to draw notice, and he was of very slight build. More notably, he was well dressed in colors not of the Holy Kingdom. A tabard over his white uniform bore the insignia of the Kingdom of Nazarick.

Calca and Kelart tensed at once as the boy rushed in and knelt before the throne, his eyes went down as he rested his arms over one knee, "Queen of the Roble Holy Kingdom, His Majesty, Allfather of the Kingdom of Nazarick, has heard your call for aid and sends his answer."

She felt her throat tighten, words wouldn't come out, though she couldn't say it to Kelart, the Holy Queen's doubts about what to do were such that abdicating seemed like the best possible answer to save her nation.

The messenger boy waited for her orders, but though her lips moved, no words came out.

Kelart folded her hands behind her back beside the throne, and after clearing her throat said, "The Queen will hear the words of her Royal Brother of the Kingdom of Nazarick."

The boy reached into a brown leather pouch and withdrew a scroll, rather than hand it over, he unfurled it and, holding it tightly open at the top and bottom, he read out loud. "His Majesty the Allfather hears the plea of his Royal Sister, and sends aid to her in this dire time. Within days of the receipt of this message, Her Royal Majesty will be given five hundred sets of runecrafted armor and weapons with which to equip her elite soldiers."

Calca found her voice immediately, "Runewhat?"

The pageboy seemed prepared for this, as he lowered the scroll and raised his eyes to her and said, "Runecraft is a means of creating magic items at no material cost, Your Majesty. It can only be made by the dwarves who live under My Lord's service."

"No cost magic items?!" Kelart exclaimed before her Queen could truly comprehend the implications, "I… five hundred sets…" She furrowed her brow.

"Sh-Shall I continue, My Lady?" The boy asked.

The Queen nodded.

"In addition, our Allfather has offered to render his personal magical aid to ensure your success. As to compensation for his efforts, this can be discussed at length on his arrival with his shipment of material aid." The boy then rolled up the scroll and bowed his head before extending it toward Kelart.

The advisor stepped away from the throne and accepted the document, her footfalls audible on the stone in the otherwise silent chamber until she ceased to move when she was again at Calca's side.

"Then… I await his Lordship's arrival with great anticipation." Calca said after a moment's hesitation. She then glanced up at her advisor, "Kelart, join me in my quarters."

Then looking at the young boy as she rose to her feet, "Go to the kitchens, eat your fill, then return to your Master… but warn him of the danger of the demihumans… we have not yet gotten a handle on them."

"Not to worry, My Lady." The boy beamed up at her, his bright, soft face took on a cherubic blush with a contented smile, "I am very good at not being seen, and nothing can harm my Master." The doppelganger kept quiet his inner laugh, and made his retreat as quickly as the Royal left the hall.

Kelart's feet moved like those of a jig dancer at a peasant festival, her eyes were wide as saucers as she followed after her Queen. Never that the long haired priestess could recall had Queen Calca Bessrarez moved so quickly in her castle, except the one time she was forced to flee from it.

Calca did not wait for Kelart to catch up, nor did she wait for the guards at the door of her quarters to open the room for her. She walked in, grabbing the knob herself to walk past and leaving it open for Kelart to close when she followed.

As soon as the Queen and her comrade were alone, Calca rushed to her makeup counter with the towering oval mirror. An enchanted item, the mirror could show her both the front and back of her head without needing to be moved, making it easy for her to do her hair herself or to see a servant's progress.

She snatched up a brush made of wyvern bone and pricklebeast spines and began to draw it through her hair in swift but practiced motions. For a long time neither the Queen nor Kelart spoke, the Queen only gave a steady swallow and a gulp.

Kelart raised and lowered her hands several times to help her Queen with the long flowing golden strands, it was a common routine for them both, but now it felt different.

"May I help, Your Majesty?" Kelart finally stumbled out the words, and the Queen stopped in mid brush.

"Yes." Calca answered succinctly, but rather than hand the brush to her best loved servant, she said, "I offered to marry the Allfather. You know this, don't you?"

Kelart gave a little nod. Her lips sealed tight as a drum, the Queen could see the nod in the mirror and resumed brushing.

"I don't know anything about him, not really. His magic is powerful, he is tolerant of other… creatures? Beings? Races? At least tolerant enough that the Slane Theocracy has taken issue with his Kingdom in private. They even reached out to me to sign off on a joint letter of condemnation… which I refused, of course." Calca answered and a little smile formed on her face that twitched a little, but held. "That was for the best, I doubt he would come to our aid if we had condemned his practices. But as long as he is a good King to his people, it should be fine… right?"

"R-Right, Your Majesty." Kelart answered, but Calca heard the hesitation. She looked over her shoulder, away from the mirror.

"You don't approve?" Calca asked.

"Your Majesty, demihumans have always been our enemies, anyone friendly with them is someone we should at least be suspicious of." Kelart pointed out.

"It was humans who tried to kill me, and humans whom I fled from, who drove me out of my very capital, remember. It wasn't demihumans." Calca said rhetorically.

"The demihumans are invading because one of us killed a royal envoy… the elves are rebelling because we kept them as slaves… from the moment the Allfather took his throne, what little I have heard has suggested a wise King who got all races to agree to his rule… while we have only made enemies inside and outside of our borders." Calca added, her voice bitter and frustrated, she threw her brush down to the floor where the bone clattered on the stone and skittered away.

Kelart moved to fetch it while the Queen sat, but the ruler of the Roble Holy Kingdom did not sit in silence. "He is wise, at least… but if I marry him for the sake of peace, for help ending the danger to my people? I will need to produce an heir for us to unite the two Kingdoms, and I-"

"Oh." Kelart said when she picked up the brush and returned to her Queen. Rather than give back the brush, she began to attend the long golden strands herself.

Queen Calca had no experience in intimacy, rumors of the lust between herself and her Queen were thoroughly false, and Kelart was sure that rumors of dalliances with her sister and the Queen were equally so.

"My Queen… I realize what this means for you, but you won't be expected to leave the Holy Kingdom… and it was always going to be necessary to have an heir for the Throne…" Kelart said, and Calca answered…

"I know this. I've considered various candidates before, high ranking Southern nobles, even Theocracy cardinals, but knowing it, and being prepared for it are not the same. Do you… know anything? Vigorous Kings tend not to want to wait till wedding nights…" Calca blushed just a little at her cheeks and Kelart stared down dumbly for a moment as the question sank in.

Worldly enough not to blush, and only caught off guard enough to slow down in brushing, she cleared her throat, "I… do know a few things, I will tell you what I can."

Calca pricked up her ears, and listened in earnest for every scrap of knowledge the masterful caster held on an entirely different sort of magic than either usually used.