Growing Issues

"You did a foolish thing, Liana."

"I only spoke what I felt was the truth, Your Highness."

"Please drop the formalities. We're in my chambers now."

"I apologize, Your Hig-, I mean Cynthia."

I stood outside the door of the queen's room, as instructed by my grandmother. I was uninterested in her work, but she had instructed me to stand by in case she needed anything. It was clear she was wary of letting me roam the castle while the king was still present, but I chose not to argue with her. Having nothing better to do, I listened in on their conversation.

"Your honesty is one of the reasons I brought you to work here." The queen was still fixated on my grandmother's actions. I understood her worry because I felt the same. "But you cannot speak to my husband the way you do to everyone else. He is not the man I once knew anymore."

I felt a twinge of pity as the queen forced the words out. If the king had heard that, I had no doubt he would have had her hung as well.

"He needs to know his faults," my grandmother insisted adamantly. "He needs to know his actions are not moving us forward anymore." She let out a deep sigh. "The crown is in debt, yet he intends to worsen it because he thirsts for a bit of action? It's absurd."

"I would blame his council for that decision."

"Oh please. If even you can't tame him, you think a group of old, senile men can?"

Although I couldn't see her face, I could tell the queen had the same distant look she had as she watched her husband go down the stairs. He felt bad she had to endure his decline in silence, fearing for her life.

"Let's discuss something else," the queen said. "Have you heard of the rumors of dead cult members in Kasavia?"

"No, not at all. I presume they aren't rumors."

"From what I heard." The queen suddenly sounded excited. "Our spies claim they were performing a ritual to open a doorway to another world. Whether they succeeded or not is unknown."

"You seem fascinated by this." Grandmother sounded surprised. "I didn't take you as a fanatic for the supernatural."

The queen laughed softly. "I wouldn't call myself a fanatic. I just find it interesting."

"Carry on then," Grandmother urged her. "Were their motives unveiled? Was there any occurrence following the failed ritual?"

"Perhaps the weirdest thing would be their bodies. I heard they were torn to shreds like someone had used dragged them apart with horses and made a mess all over the place."

"It must have been a mortifying sight." Grandmother didn't sound fazed. Judging from her tone, I could tell she had seen much worse.

"It wa-," the queen paused mid-speech and spoke in a hushed manner. I strained my ears to listen, but I only heard my grandmother let out a heavy sigh.

"Miles!" she called. "You may leave. Go find something else to occupy your time with."

I opened my mouth to ask why she was letting me go all of a sudden, but I shut it, deciding not to argue. The queen most likely felt what they were discussing was a private matter, and I was too young to be trusted. It was a good thing for me, though. I skipped away from the door, happily heading out to search for Sir Michael.

Wandering through the halls, I was careful to peep around every corner so I wouldn't bump into the King. It was likely the knight was currently attending to the king, but I hoped he wasn't.

I decided to head to the ground floor of the castle instead of scouring the endless rooms on the first floor. As I bounded down the stairs, I bumped into the mountain of a man who was doing rounds around the castle.

Standing at six feet, four inches, stood the man I had been looking for, wearing a full set of iron armor. His hair was hidden under his helmet, but I could see part of his face through the T-shaped opening. I was happy I had finally found him, but he had a troubled expression on his face.

"I was wondering where you were," he said, a smile lighting up his face. But I could tell there was something else. His gentle brown eyes couldn't completely conceal the expression he had on before.

"I get the feeling there's something wrong." I said, lifting an eyebrow.

Raising his hands in surrender, he grinned. "You can read me like a book. Impressive."

"You're the one who taught me how." I had wondered why I needed to learn how to read people before, but he told me it was crucial both in battle and while defending the King. Body language and facial expressions were core to sieving out assassins or outsmarting men on the battlefield.

"True," he agreed. He then looked around, as if he were trying to make sure there was no one around us. "I hear Liana had an altercation with the King."

"Yeah," My heart dropped, and the panic I had suppressed returned. "He insulted me after I declined to work under him as a knight, so she replied the way she always does."

Sir Michael gritted his teeth. "Oh, that foolish old woman. It is not smart to have the King as your enemy."

"Did he say anything?"

"No, but he requested a few servants to dig up whatever they could on her." He looked down at me again. "I doubt he'd find anything to implicate her with, but the King isn't quite himself anymore. He could order her execution for the fun of it."

'Surely he'll have to make her stand trial? Most people would oppose his decision, and he'd have to leave her be. Right?" I said, but it sounded like I was merely deluding myself with reassurance.

He gave me a small smile. "Perhaps. We can only hope he grows bored of her and moves on."

I said nothing, but I was starting to feel like something horrible was about to happen.

"Don't fret, Miles," he reassured me, ruffling my hair. "Nothing will happen to her as long as I'm here."

I looked up at him, glad that he was close enough to my grandmother to help if anything went wrong. I was also glad for the queen as well. But something told me none of that mattered. The dream I had last night poked at me once more, my fear of losing the last family I had resurfacing.

"Let's get going," he said, gently grabbing my arm. "I'd prefer if my squire could hold his own on a battlefield."

Grinning, I followed him, letting my worry slide yet again.

Perhaps I should have dwelt on it more. Maybe, just maybe, something would have changed.