Young Writers Society

A/N: Last chapter, Golzar, Bryn and Gerhard agreed to go to meet the Queen together. They plan to discuss Golzar's proposed amendment to the Heroes' Guild constitution, namely to remove the clause that allows heroes to use any means to achieve their quests. In this chapter, Golzar is meeting the Queen while the other two wait outside.

Golzar’s gaze flitted from one corner of the windowless, dimly-lit room to the next. She hadn’t expected this. Lucretia had summoned her to the private chambers, rather than to a throne room or an office the way Raymond had. The ceiling was covered in a rose-painted pattern of exploding shards. It looked new, as though it had just been completed the previous week. The colour was as vivid as blood, almost seeming to glow, even in this dark atmosphere.

The walls weren’t hovering enough nearby to be cosy, and they weren’t far enough away to consider the room spacious. It was an odd middle-ground, the stone structures, covered in many places by lavender tapestries to match the cushy surfaces of the chairs, benches, and the small tea table in the centre of the room.

When Lucretia emerged from the cloth partition, she was dressed in a pastel pink gown. It contrasted her caramel brown complexion, like a snow dotting the earth.

“Good evening, Councillor.” Lucretia’s voice cut through the quiet of that room.

Golzar stood up and gave a bow. “Your Grace.”

“Please. Sit.” Lucretia gestured towards the tea table. Jaw clenching with tension, Golzar made her way there from the row of chairs that were pushed up against the wall. Luckily, Lucretia sat in the usual way, with two medium-sized chairs facing each other, the intricately carved tea table in-between. The memory of Raymond’s long benches came to mind.

The both of them were seated, and Golzar was at a loss for words. This was ridiculous of her, she thought. The motion draft was right there in her hand, and yet she had trouble trying to speak. She took in a breath, before raising her head to look Lucretia in the eye. Bryn and Gerhard had brought her this far. She couldn’t let them down now.

~~

Earlier that day, the three of them had arrived in the courtyard. The orange flood of dawn poured down between the cracks of the architecture, coating everything in a film of cool fire.

Bryn had been walking beside her, with Gerhard just a step behind, scrutinising every door he could find.

“We’re not criminals, we’ve got nothing to fear,” she remembered Gerhard saying, though he was the one glancing anxiously at the guards. She guessed he was worried about them meeting with the Queen behind William’s back, knowing what the man would think of that.

Golzar didn’t point it out, because her gaze was distracted by the sight of a familiar face. On the opposite end of the courtyard, Miriam stood with some of her fellow actors. She was pointing towards one of the corridors, seeming to be in a hurry. Two of the stagehands that were following them hauled a box, balancing it atop two poles which they strung up over their shoulders.

Beside her, Bryn had sidled up to look over her shoulder at what was holding her attention, and Golzar could feel the suspicion coming off them in waves as they looked at Miriam.

Before Golzar could call out to her, Miriam vanished.

“Come on,” Gerhard said, marching across them toward one of the palace wings. “The backdoor to the House of Periwinkles should be this way.”

~~

Lucretia’s handmaiden brought in cups of tea. The pouring snapped Golzar out of her thoughts.

“Go on,” Lucretia said, as she wrapped her fingers around a cup. “You have permission to speak, you know.”

Did she? Golzar was tempted to say this out loud, but the purple flags hanging like weights behind Lucretia was good enough a reminder of where she was and what was at stake here. She swallowed her words, and hoped that nothing just as irreverent would slip out.

“Thank you, your Grace,” she said instead, her voice cool as porcelain. At this rate, she could star at a cold reading, surely, Golzar thought, smiling internally. Before the tension in the room could crush her next phrase, Golzar spoke.

“As I’ve written in my petition, I wanted to speak to you about the Heroes’ Guild constitution. I have a modification in mind for it.”

Lucretia suddenly extended a hand, palm open. Golzar glanced at it, confused once, before she realised what she wanted and pushed the piece of paper in her hand towards the Queen. She couldn’t take credit for the fact that it – wasn’t – covered in sweat at this point. Gerhard was the one who had advised her to wear gloves, after all. It would have been unsavoury to do otherwise.

She noticed that Lucretia’s gaze lingered momentarily on the leather gloves, but the Queen offered no comment. Her own hands were covered by equivalent silk gloves, despite the casualness of the rest of her clothing.

“The clause that allows heroes to use ‘whatever means’ necessary to finish their quests has been around since the Guild’s founding. Given that we are entering a new era of peace, it seems only detrimental to leave it as it is.” Golzar scrutinised Lucretia’s expression. The Queen had a small smile on her face, one that was slowly spreading as she went on. Golzar wondered if she was really listening to her at all. It was hard to tell.

Lucretia tapped her fingers on the table, before leaning forward slightly to rest the full length of her arm on the shiny walnut surface.

“Captain Golzar – “

Golzar’s eyes widened. She hadn’t been called that in at least a year.

“ – how have you been?”

~~

It had been cloudy when the final battle was over. Lucretia rode into the capital on a white horse, a cloak shielding her from the ash. There were people running back and forth throughout the street. Panicked murmuring, a scream or two, as all around the sounds of hard iron horseshoes trampling the earth could be heard. On the route to the palace, a young man wearing Korvus’ colours – red and gold – appeared from behind a corner. He ran at her, sword in hand.

“Your Highness!” someone shouted from behind her.

Before the guards could react, the man had cut down her horse, sending blood spraying red over her. He turned to her, where she had fallen, ready to strike. But then Lucretia drew the crossbow out from her satchel and shot him through the heart.

Breathing hard, Lucretia got to her feet. Her guards surrounded her, but they were next to useless in this environment. As they exited the alleyway, Lucretia saw the yellow flags of William’s men. A small advance of them were marching out, swift and speedy on foot throughout this close-packed city environment.

She called out to them. “Captain Ashley!”

The leader, marching at the front with a longsword at their side, turned around. Lucretia saw their helmet bob upwards in surprise. “P-Princess Lucretia?”

“Take your men and come with me.” Lucretia turned to address the clamour of bodyguards. “You all, take their place and report to William.”

“B-But your Highness!”

“The battle is over. I need your blades more than he does now,” Lucretia said, holding Ashley’s gaze steady. “Otherwise you’ll have won this war for nothing.”

She raised her skirts, and waded into the centre of the heroes. The cloak would hopefully prevent anyone else from recognising her, even seeing her among the murky greyness of the battle-torn city.

“Your Highness, are you hurt?” Ashley asked, looking at the red that stained the hem of her clothes.

“No,” Lucretia said. “Keep walking.”

They escorted her to the palace grounds. There, they broke in through the doors of the throne room. Lucretia remembered walking out onto the balcony, holding her standard on her own, and planting it behind the railing where all could see. The swarms of soldiers and heroes began to slow, looking up at the deep purple flag that billowed in the wind.

It was over.

That night, Lucretia went into the House of Periwinkles with the few servants who had informed on King Korvus’ forces for her side. The corridors were closed up, musty. They told her the king had not had the windows open in weeks, and had the usual open-air spaces blocked up with sandbags.

“Let us clear these halls up,” Lucretia said, her tone momentarily forcing a lightness.

One of the handmaidens – no, an elderly matron with kind grey eyes – approached her. “Would you be staying in the king’s chambers, Highness?”

Lucretia thought about it for a moment. She shook her head. “I would prefer the late queen’s residence.”

Over the next few days, Lucretia had the medium-sized room cleared out. They found an abundance of bright red nightgowns, like an avalanche of rose petals, heaped in the wardrobes.

“Discard these,” Lucretia said, holding one of them up without looking at it. Myra, who had arrived in a separate carriage earlier that night, took it from her, and piled it on top of the sizable stack she carried in her lithe, but muscular arms. To Myra alone, she spoke quietly. “I want nothing red to be in these premises.”

“Very well, Princess.”

“Thank you, Myra.”

Later, in that sitting room, Ashley came to report to her that Golzar the Vanguard Racer had struck the final blow. She could remember the bland taste of sugarless tea, the cup she was sipping from when she received the news. “Is that so?” Lucretia had said.

She sent Ashley away with a simple command, to send for more reinforcements from the south. They all had rebuilding to do. She looked out the window, through the circular shape, at the long bloodstain on the cobblestone street down below.

~~

Lucretia watched the confusion flit across Golzar’s eyes, as she rested her hands in front of her, on the edge of the table. The candles behind the commander flickered orange, casting dancing shadows over her face.

“I’ve been well,” Golzar said finally, carefully. Before she could get out another word, Lucretia continued, silencing her.

“Good.” Lucretia stood up, brushing off her light-coloured skirts. Folding her hands at her waist, she stepped around the table, gazing down at the commander’s puzzled look. Golzar had come in unusual dress. The leather gloves were one thing, but she had a second belt over her usual one, this new piece of leather depicting wheatgrass rather than the classic grey hound sigil of her company. It seemed to Lucretia that Golzar hadn’t chosen the clothes entirely on her own.

As Golzar followed her lead to stand, Lucretia spoke. “You were there when Thornston’s company raided the village?”

For a moment, silence. Lucretia expected that she would be taken aback. Then, Golzar’s brow furrowed, as she averted the queen’s gaze. Lucretia saw her fists clench at her sides. “I was there after, your Grace. When we’d heard the news.”

Good, Lucretia thought. Golzar was still the same as she had been when they last spoke. Even though her physical appearance had changed, and she began to resemble the other clustered hostile lot that comprised the Guild Council, she still had the same spark that had caught Lucretia’s attention so long ago. The scar slashing across her face. The cropped hair. Lucretia noted all of these changes with interest, but fundamentally, what had drawn her to this girl was something else entirely.

“Which news?” Lucretia asked. She rested her hands behind her back, apprehending Golzar with an even stare.

Onyx eyes flickered towards her suspiciously. Golzar knew it was a test, she must have, Lucretia thought. She answered anyway. “There were break-ins at several storehouses. A few were injured. Some severely. I didn’t catch wind of how much they took, only . . . “

Golzar shrugged.

“A hundred bushels,” Lucretia offered. She watched Golzar look down at her feet through the corners of her eyes.

“I don’t suppose you remember, then,” Lucretia said quietly. “What I told you before.”

At this point a light of recognition – or perhaps, surprise? Lucretia did not think she was the type to be surprised – lit up Golzar’s square face. “I do remember,” she said. Her lip quirked upward, somewhat shakily, as though contemplating something morbidly funny. “I don’t imagine I would forget something quite like that, your Grace.”

Without her realising it, Lucretia’s face began to crack into a smile. She had told Golzar more than she had intended that day, revealing how she wanted to cleanse this kingdom of its ills. Be rid of corruption. Be rid of raids. Be rid of everything unjust and foolish.

Part of her felt tempted to grab Golzar by the wrist and pull her back to sit at the tea table, but instead, she clasped her hands in front of her.

“Commander. You and I want to do the same thing in this city,” Lucretia said. Her breath was cold and still in her chest, her heart pounding in her ears. “Join me. I could appoint you as my bodyguard. You and your company.”

The Grey Hound Company had been the one to end the war. Hiring them on as her personal guard would not be an unpopular decision. There were the nobles to worry about, of course, but they could be placated with enough land and honours. Besides. Any threat to her standing with the nobles was secondary to having an ally who shared the same ideals as her.

Lucretia stood and waited for an answer. A moth approached the candles and begun a circling flight.