Wizard's Education (Book 2) (31 page)

"It was nothing, Your Grace." She kept her head bowed.

Princess Ukina walked over to the woman and lifted her chin. She looked into her eyes. "Belsh, I need goodhearted people around me. Especially now that my father is dead and I'm responsible for my people. You are kind and wise. I want you around me as a constant reminder of the people I am to care for and protect.

"Please say you'll stay with me. I have work for your husband and son here in the castle. You'll be on my personal staff. Please say you'll stay."

Belsh looked back into her eyes. The Princess could see her fear fade and a slight smile appeared. The woman's eyes sparkled. "As you wish. You still look like you can use a friend."

"You can go now," the Princess told Rothen. "We'll be down soon."

"Your Grace." Rothen bowed and backed out of the room with a broad smile on his face.

"Let's get ready for the funeral," the Princess said. "There is a black dress over there that they want me to wear, and those stuffy gloves and boots. I'll need help getting into them."

Belsh came back with the dress and helped her into it. "You look very regal, Your Grace."

"You don't have to call me Your Grace. Ukina is my name. You can call me that when we're alone. Save the other for when we're in public."

"Oh, I could never do that. Can I call you Ma'am?"

The Princess inhaled as Belsh drew the dress tight. She wanted Belsh's honest opinion and feedback about the realm and her people. She knew that was always the danger for even the most enlightened monarch, losing touch with the people. She inhaled one final time as Belsh drew the dress tight and deftly fastened it.

"Not Ma'am either. I'm not an old woman," the Princess said.

"Mistress, then? How would that be?" Belsh prodded the Princess' hair into some semblance of order.

Ukina sighed. It was going to take some time for Belsh to get used to her. She decided to work on that.

"Belsh, you may wait here for me if you wish, or you may go tell your family that I have invited you into my service. Your husband and son are already being shown their jobs in the castle. After you have all become acquainted with your jobs, you will be shown to your quarters.

"Thank you, Mistress."

"Guard! I'm ready to go," called the Princess.

Rothen escorted the Princess to the audience chamber. He walked her to the throne and seated her on the seat where so often her father had presided. She felt alone and empty sitting there in that huge chair; her legs barely reached the ground. Surely, this was made for one grander than she.

She turned to the casket sitting on the ornate wagon in the center of the room. The casket was completely black, yet gleamed like a mirror. It was adorned with intricate carvings of her father's accomplishments. The lid was carved into his likeness. The King with the sword in his folded hands looked like Orin's younger self, not the gaunt sickly form she had witnessed lying on his bed.

A loud fanfare of dour trumpets sounded their mournful call and the crowd rose. The Princess stood and walked towards the casket, stopping behind it as they wheeled it out of the reception room. She followed slowly behind as it made its way out of the hall and down the streets lined with throngs of mourners weeping and wailing. She could hear the crowd grow louder as they approached.

Rothen had told her that the people needed to see her here today. She wished to be anywhere else with her father still alive. She thought of the golden crypt, up in the mountains of Mistwind, and how the one lain within that tomb had returned in another body. She wished with all her heart that it were true, and that her father would return to her one day, even if it were in the guise of another.

The procession wound its way along the streets until they reached the crypt of her forefathers. It stood large above the crypts of the nobles that surrounded it. It was adorned with carvings representing the realm. Mountains, forests, fields of grain and crops, herds of cattle and armies competed for space to decorate the walls of white marble that towered over them.

The procession stopped and six knights took station along the casket, lifting it from the cart. The trumpets blared one last fanfare, the notes echoing off the walls of the surrounding crypts. They entered the marble gates and descended the stairs that lead to the tomb that would be the final resting place of King Orin.

As they walked past the caskets of her forefathers, Princess Ukina silently noted their names. Each one had made some great contribution to the realm and was enshrined in songs and stories that the common folk sang on royal holidays.

They reached the end of the crypt. A tunnel carved from the rock beneath the earth, it was cold and dark save for the light of the torches that had been stuffed into the sconces along their way. There was just enough room for the knights to carry the casket through the deep catacombs and deposit it on the dais prepared for it.

The Princess witnessed them rest the casket and back away. She walked up to it and leaned over the likeness of her father. She gently pressed a kiss to the stone cold lips of the image of the man within.

"Father, I'm sorry I was not here for you. I don't want to be Queen. I never wanted to be Queen."

The Princess wrapped her arms over the cold casket and wept. The memories of the past tragedies came flooding back to her. Her mother's death hit her the hardest now that she was an orphan. The way she had acted with Lorit gnawed at her. She would never have thrown herself at the Wizard or helped the Temple trap Chihon unless she was under their spell, but it didn't help assuage her shame.

She wept over her father. The Temple healed people all the time. Why had they let him die? Was this their way of paying him back for the destruction of the Temple by Lorit? She made a vow with herself to rule fairly and find a way to erase her shame with the Wizard Lorit and the Sorceress Chihon.

The thing that saddened her the most was that she was alone. Totally and utterly alone, and she was going to have to bear the burden of being Queen all on her own without her father's guidance and advice. She was not sure whom she could trust.

She remained draped over her father's casket until the emotions inside of her ran their course. She dried her tears and turned to Rothen. "It's done."

She turned back and kissed the stone cold lips of her father's statue one final time.

Coronation

Belsh entered the dressing room and stopped short. The woman looked around, slowly taking in the rows of opulent dresses and royal garb. She froze in place, staring at something that the Princess couldn't see. She knew Belsh would be a little overwhelmed by the royal wardrobe, but she didn't expect this.

Ukina quietly stepped behind Belsh and placed her hands on the woman's shoulders. "What is it?"

"That's the crown of the realm!"

"Yes, it is. Isn't it beautiful? It's also heavy, and gives me a great pain in my neck after wearing it all evening."

She could feel the tension in Belsh. "It's magnificent."

"Pick it up and see how heavy it is."

Belsh lifted the crown from its velvet cushion. The Princess could see her judging the measure of it and the weight. She turned it around and examined it carefully as the gems sparkled in the sunlight streaming in through the windows.

"Such a thing would feed my family for generations."

"Belsh, you will never go hungry again. You and your family after you will always have a place here, in the castle. You have nothing to worry about."

"It's just such wealth. I never imagined such wealth existed, and to hold it in my hands..."

"Just be glad you don't have to wear it on your head," the Princess said.

Two more handmaidens appeared to help with the task of dressing the Princess in the royal regalia. Half of the coronation was about the attire she was now donning. They stripped her quickly down and started layering the royal vestment on her one by one. The shroud tunic came first. Silk from far off lands had been spun into the shimmering layer that felt cool against her sin. The lace was as fine as anything she had ever seen.

Next, came the crimson surcoat made of finely woven wool from young sheep without blemish. It wrapped her tightly as the handmaidens pulled at the laces. She drew her breath in as they tightened it one more time. She could hardly breathe, and she worried about passing out in the middle of the ceremony.

Over that, they draped the Robe of State, fabricated from rich ermine, and dyed a brilliant purple. It trailed behind her on the floor, reaching almost as far back as she was tall.

Gloves and boots specially made for the occasion were fitted to her hands and feet. Layers of jewelry were placed around her wrists and neck until she feared she would collapse under the weight of it. They bustled around her, wrapping her hair around her head and pinning it up into a magnificent coif. Finally, the handmaidens stepped back and pronounced her ready, just as someone knocked on the door.

One of the maids rushed to open it. It was Rothen.

"My, don't you look regal!" he said as he saw her.

The Princess tried to turn, expecting her dress to flair out, only to find herself wrapped in the royal robes. Rothen quickly reached out to steady her before she fell.

"These really are impractical."

"Thankfully you only have to wear them on special occasions. Let's go over the day's events again, shall we?"

"Must we?" She wanted nothing less than to suffer through this day, but he was insistent that she had to show the people she was alive and in control.

"You must. We start with the anointing here, in the castle. That is done by the royal family. All of your relatives will gather around you and bless you while my great uncle pours the oil on your head. That symbolizes our acceptance of you as our Queen.

"Then you travel to the throne room and take the throne. A procession of knights will pass by you and swear their oath to serve you and the realm. There are ... let me see ... almost a hundred of them. That part is going to take a while."

The Princess groaned.

"Hold on, after that it's the coach ride to the Temple of Ran."

She scowled at that. "I don't like those Priests. They're responsible for my brother's disappearance, I know it."

"Nobody likes the Priests, but everyone has to tolerate them ... including you."

"I thought Lorit brought the Temple down around them."

"He did, but they have rebuilt it. They have been very busy and it's all back in shape just in time for your royal visit. You will visit the Temple where the Priest will bless you and sprinkle the ashes from his altar on you." He held up his hand. "Before you ask, I don't know what kind of ashes. Some things are better left unasked.

"After he blesses you, you will return to the throne where you will receive the oaths from the Lords and Barons. There are more of them than there are the knights.

"After the Lords and Barons, you will finally receive the crown. You will remove the crown of the Princess and take up the crown of the Queen. You will be Your Grace and there is nothing you or anyone else can do about it.

"Once you have the crown on your head, you will receive foreign dignitaries and then the land owners and merchants. They will all bring gifts and swear their oaths."

She sighed. "How many of them will there be?"

"Too many to count."

The Princess gave another heavy sigh, dreading the day.

It wasn't until well into the evening when things got more exciting. During the procession of merchants and land owners came a man leaning on a gnarled staff. He wore a brown robe tied in the middle with a plain cord. He shuffled his way to the throne, head bowed in reverence, awaiting his turn.

When he reached the throne, the guards stopped him with their spears. He grasped one of the spears and used it to help him to his knees. As he sank to the floor, he let out a piercing whistle and looked up at the Princess. Their eyes locked as he waited patiently for whatever he had summoned.

The Princess saw the sharp intellect behind his penetrating eyes as they waited. Far off she heard a screech followed shortly by another, coming closer. Something flew into the audience chamber to take a seat on the old man's shoulder. It was a mini dragon. She was stunned. She was not sure if it was the same one that had broken the final spell on her or another like it.

The crowd fell silent and a chorus of gasps rose from the royal family gathered behind her. A mini dragon was a rare and special creature, and they seemed to have an affinity for her. As far as she knew, none had ever graced a coronation before. She continued to look at the old man, who reached up and stroked the mini dragon between the tiny twisted horns.

It shot out a short burst of fire and let out a screech that set the crowd all a twitter. When the commotion calmed down, the Princess looked questioningly at the Wizard.

It was not the Wizard that spoke, but the mini dragon. Its voice was deep, yet thin and airy. "Queen Ukina. Long may you reign. I have come to bless your coronation and to beg your help."

"How can I help one such as yourself?"

"Lorit needed you ... needs you ... will need you ... I ask you to find him and help him."

"Why should I help him?" She thought of the way Lorit had struck her and abandoned her in the mountains of Friega.

"If he dies, you die. Your life force is intertwined with Chihon and she is tied to Lorit. Even though the spell is gone, you are connected. For life. If one of you dies, so do the others."

She blinked in astonishment at the dragon. Was she really connected to Lorit and Chihon for life? How was that possible? "How could I help them?"

"You are the Queen. You have an army. I fear this time magic alone may not be enough to save them. They need your knights. When I ask your help, you must go to their aid. In return, I swear to help you in your darkest moments."

The Princess hesitated, recalling her shame at the way she had treated Lorit and Chihon. As the Queen, she had a responsibility to her people, yet, if they were connected, how could she refuse? "And how will I call you?" she asked.