For the Queen of the Roble Holy Kingdom, time was ephemeral, and it was as easy to see the road ahead as it was to see through a single gossamer weave. The road rolled on and the scenery changed. The road, once so damaged by the demihumans during their rampage, was now fully repaired. 'Thanks in no small part to harvesting materials from the wall. It was fortunate that the Queen of Frost was willing to 'share' such as it were.' Numerous homes and expansive repairs were made from the resulting dismantling of the structure.
As a result, the road was intact and her carriage ride was smooth, the trees thickened as they passed through the wildlands once kept as the territory of 'The Huntress' turned Queen. With the sun high in the sky it should have been bright as day on the road, but thanks to the thick green foliage and overhanging branches, the shadows cast in places made the carriage pass through a night like darkness, sometimes for dozens of yards at a time.
"Do you think monsters are a concern here?" Queen Calca asked as she peered into the shadows of the deep wood. A cold trace of dread ran up the spine of the city woman, the mysterious chaos of the thick woodlands acted as a natural camouflage to the life she was sure watched just out of view.
"I doubt it, My Queen." Kelart answered, but she set a slender hand protectively and reassuringly on the knee of the ruler of the country, "During the Demalbion invasion, the armies of our enemies used the forests extensively to hide their movement, as a result many of the monsters were wiped out. It will be years, maybe decades before they are a threat to us again, and maybe never if we start development of settlements early next year like we plan."
Calca relaxed a little and put her hand over the one which rested on her knee, she took a little breath and, perhaps heartened by her lover's words, she put her head out the window to feel the wind racing over her skin and help her see the far horizon. The world opened up like a marvelous canvas, the endless blue of the sky and the endless world beyond seemed to meet at some distant place toward which they were racing. With the wall missing, there was nothing to bar sight of the foreign Kingdom except a few scattered ruins. With the wall gone, the fortress which guarded its widest point was gone too, and with the fortress gone, the buildings around it were either gone or fallen over. Either destroyed during the fighting, or destroyed for new materials, or simply… tumbled due to weather and neglect, or picked over by scavengers from either side of the border.
Calca drummed her fingers on her other knee, and Kelart could only laugh while Gustav drifted off and began to snore. "Are you that eager, My…" She looked at the sleeping Gustav, his mouth hanging open as his head lolled back against the corner of the carriage, sure that he was asleep, she said, "...my love?"
Calca picked up her son out of the little carriage adapted crib and rocked him in her arms, "It's time for my son to meet his father… of course I'm excited. I may still be a little shaky on my feet, but with things as they are, it can't be helped. And that's the part that makes me nervous. I've known since the start that he was deeply in love with someone else. I have no doubt she'll be there."
"No doubt. But still!" Kelart squeezed her hand over the knee of her Queen. "You bore him a son. It nearly killed you. No man can forget that. Not if he's worthy of an heir."
"The child of the less loved wife… I've heard so many stories of that going wrong. What if his other woman wants my son set aside? What if she demands he not pick my child up? What if he favors her child so much it hurts the one we share? What if- what if I made a huge mistake…" Calca asked and caressed the boy's face, he yawned a little, little mouth wide and little body wiggling in his slumber.
"Somehow… somehow we'll make things work. Don't think like that, we'll do everything we can, you, me, Gustav, the whole Kingdom if we have to." Kelart promised with breathless urgency, and kissed Calca on the cheek with the gentleness of a butterfly landing on a flower petal.
The growing war between tension, nervous excitement, and anxiety began to end as her companion put forward the promise of support, and Calca began to relax again, savoring the quiet moments as the carriage continued to roll onward.
Weeks after negotiations were finalized and the Queen of Frost received word that the Holy Queen was on her way, the hour was finally upon them.
Neia stood at the edge of the grove, her own carriage was more or less needless, given her ability to fly, but there was more at stake and both Queens knew it. For that reason, the Queen of Frost was ready to make a show of peaceful intent by traveling with her former foe across national borders to observe the struggle of champions.
Neia, for her part, traveled with only a handful of guards, two elves, two orcs, and a blader to drive the carriage. As she looked at them there, riding atop horses purchased from the Holy Kingdom, it was difficult not to feel a sense of pride. They were bedecked in fine armor of blended steel and orichalcum with a trace of adamantite, a mere strip or two over vulnerable places to stop a potentially lethal slash, but like everything in Demalbion, efficiency was key.
However, aside from the slow growth of her industrial scale mining operations to harvest the vast untapped resources of the region, the truest pride she felt was in their readiness. They were still, moving only their eyes, their ears, pricked up and keenly listening for threats even when it seemed safe.
For the elves this was expected, while the orcs with their traditional arrogance gave way to serene confidence tempered by caution. Ready for danger when it seemed safe, and gone was the lazy contempt of those who wrongly believed themselves invincible.
Neia's keen ears caught the sound of rolling wheels and she turned her head to face the source of the noise. True to her expectation, the racing carriage and its escort of horsemen approached like thunder brought to ground. The beasts were magnificent, each one half again as tall as a full grown man, with muscular flanks and broad, powerful bodies. The paladins themselves were no less impressive, clad in runecrafted armor burnished to a shine, Neia felt her covetous instincts rise as she saw it loom larger with every step of the hooves of the horses. 'As much as I love my bow… who wouldn't want more of that stuff?'
The carriage began to slow as it drew closer, and the horses began to slow to a trot to match, but nonetheless they made excellent time and within a few minutes of seeing them, the carriage slowed to a halt.
Neia watched as Gustav exited, though he refused to meet her eyes, that was unsurprising, instead he kept his eyes focused on the carriage itself. He opened the door and pronounced with his back stiff and eyes up to watch the Queen's descent, "Queen Calca Bessarez! Ruler of the Roble Holy Kingdom!"
"And I, her Royal Scaliness, Queen of Frost, Neia Baraja, greet my Royal Sister." Neia laughed at her own self effacing humor, and it was at least enough to bring a smile to the slowly moving Queen.
To Neia's eyes, the Queen was worse for the wear, her steps were slow and she was being assisted by Kelart as well as Gustav. Her face was radiant and bright, but her hair? Gone was the honey blonde, and instead was a bountiful white golden shade, still youthful in its lustre and life, it was nonetheless no longer the color Neia recalled.
But the warmth the Holy Queen exuded was no less.
In one arm the Queen held her child, a sleeping boy, and on her face, the contented smile of a mother pleased with what she bore. "You know," the Holy Queen remarked as she came closer to the Queen of Frost, "some would say it's undignified to be humorous instead of formal when royalty meets."
Neia inclined her head in acceptance of the benign critique, "And I would say they should relax a fair bit in a small gathering." Neia gave the Queen a toothy smile, her tail waved lazily behind her, and she extended her hand to the human Queen.
Calca took it, and Neia, with gentle care, only lightly closed her hand around the porcelain skin. "It's good to see you." Neia said sincerely, "If you want the truth, I was half expecting you to skip this meeting, given our history."
Calca waited until the Queen of Frost released her hand, 'Her scales are so… smooth.' The Queen of the Roble Holy Kingdom thought abstractly before answering, "It's because of that, that I can't. I loved… no… I love Remedios… but I am the Queen." Calca said with iron resolve. "The things she did were directly responsible for nearly toppling my realm. The hand you played in her… whatever fate she now has? If I let her actions go, I might as well throw all our books of law into a bonfire. As to the dead between us? We both suffered loss. It's our job to make sure it doesn't happen again."
Neia inclined her head to her counterpart. "You're the Queen my former home deserves, at least now." She said and drew her lips up in a smile that barely concealed her teeth. "Your son by the Allfather… may I see? I won't ask to hold him, I'm just curious."
Calca looked between the dragonid and her boy, a mother's instincts warred on her face before she relaxed with a breath, "If you want to hold him-"
Neia immediately denied it, shaking her head vigorously enough to bounce her loose hair around behind her head, she replied, "I was ugly enough that I made children cry when I was still a human child myself. If he were to see me as I am, I think he'd cry all the way to Arwintar. I'd just like to see, that's all."
Calca felt a sympathetic wince in her soul, that anyone should think of themselves that way… but she offered no hollow words of comfort, she instead merely honored the wishes of the Queen of Demalbion and moved aside the little blue cloth that obscured her son's face and part of the little mop of dark hair on his head.
"He looks perfect." Neia praised the Queen and gave her a winsome look, "I'm sure he'll be a fine man when he's grown up."
"I will do what I can to make him so." The Queen responded, and then with that, Neia gestured to her own carriage.
"Should we get going, it's a long way to Arwintar." The Queen of Frost folded in her wings, retracting them against her back, and with that, they were ready to leave on the long, long journey to the north east.
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