Kingdom of Zuland, Greziet Castle, Present day.
Sara focused on the snowfall on the other side of the glass. Somehow, she felt that she would rather be out there. Cold and harsh the weather was, yet the idea was more appealing than in her father's presence and being fed another lecture.
"I said to look at me, Sara!" Her father's yell bounced off the walls of the small study.
She gulped hard before meeting his glare. "Yes?" a venom in her voice.
"Don't take that tone with me," he growled. "I allow you the freedom and authority of an heiress and you use it to shame me?"
His claims sparked the fuse of annoyance as she looked away and rolled her eyes. Her sight stopped on a nearby shelf where a collection of multicolored books was set neatly. The words on the spines stood out to her, 'power' and 'legacy'.
"All I wanted was the respect of an heiress. To be treated like your equal, not your subject."
He slammed his heavy hand on a small table causing an unlit candle to fall and break. "You had it."
"What?" she retorted, her mouth agape. "If I had your respect then why am I being lectured rather than appraised for making my own decision?" She thew out her hands as she shrugged.
"Because your decision may just have cost us our advantage in this upcoming war. You want authority? You earn it, you cannot gambol to the top. Can you fathom the humiliation that comes with my own daughter's insubordination? It seems nothing has changed in the last four years. This emotion-driven behavior ever since Ramses is what got you banished from my council."
"Don't bring Ramses into this." She trudged over to him. "I loved him and I have every right to mourn him." She scoffed. "But what do you know of love, you banished your own wife to—"
"Enough!" He struck her with the backside of his hand.
The stinging pain on her cheek gave rise to warm tears that ached to escape.
"Sir?" came a voice. At the study's entrance was Svarga. His heavy eyes filled with contempt. Was it for her, or for what she had done? It didn't matter now.
Sara kept her gaze focused on the lush violet rug at her feet.
"Ah, General Svarga," said her father as he took a step away from her. "I didn't you approach." He beckoned him in. "Understand that anyone that defies me will be met with discipline..."
Sara could feel his heavy glare on her.
"…No matter who they might be," he continued.
Sara sniffled turned and returned to the window, the snowfall had slowed.
"I trust you've brought word of the Lionslayer," said her father.
"I have, my king. Though it is with regret that I must tell you it isn't pleasant."
Sara's lips formed a minor smile at the thought her father's dismay.
"Word from the scouts say that a large hawk crashed somewhere near the Undergrove."
"The Undergrove?" echoed her father. "Goddess perish the thought," he growled.
"It's not all entirely bad, sire. General Giase is posted at an outpost just south of there. I'm sure—"
"That is enough, General. The Undergrove is dubbed 'The Garden of Demons' for a fair reason. No man could walk into that retched place and live." He paused. "Sara will go."
She turned to meet her father's cold stare once more as well as Svarga's newfound surprise. "What do you—"
"You made the decision to send the Lionslayer there. You'll be the one to help bring him back," said her father.
Svarga raised an eyebrow. "Sir?"
Sara's mouth felt as if she had just swallowed sand. "But you just said no man walks out of the Undergrove. How do you expect me to manage?"
"You will." He turned back to his general. "Svarga, you will make sure the princess reaches her destination. Send word to Giase about the situation. He is to attempt to retrieve the Lionslayer at any cost and pass him over to my daughter." He looked to her and nodded in disapproval before looking away. "It should take two or perhaps three weeks to travel to Firon by direwolf carriage. You both have your instruction, now onward, leave me to my thoughts."
"Yes, my king." Svarga gave a bow before calling her over. "Come now, Lady Sara, you have a long trip ahead of you. Best we leave now."
A list of disapproving arguments sat at the tip of Sara's tongue. Though the thought of leaving the castle became savorous by the second. She swallowed down her words as her new irritation dried her tears. She didn't dismiss herself, doing so would likely annoy her father further. Again, thought urged a smile. She walked beside Svarga down the long stone channel just outside the study. The silent duo continued until they were greeted by winter's embrace. She would prove to him and everyone that she was worthy of the title 'Queen Sara'. Of this, there was no doubt.
~0~
The carriage bounced every few seconds, accompanied by the loud pants of the direwolf outside.
"Why is this path so discomforting?" said Sara as she crossed her arms and leaned back on the carriage's soft cushion.
Svarga sat across from her. He smiled. "Winter's almost at its end and because of that a lot of the stones under the blanket of snow have emerged." He pushed the small curtain on the carriage window looked out. "Shame. I was beginning to like the white purity of winter." He sighed then leaned back in his seat.
"You live Zuland, General. Snow is here all year," replied Sara.
"Yes. But never like this. Deep winter has a soothing element to it."
She chuckled lightly. "You sound like my mother." The thought of her mother brought a wave of shame. Shame for how she acted. How was it that she adored both of her parents yet neither understood the position she was in? With age comes wisdom they say. Though it seemed to have passed her parents by. She cursed the thoughts as she gripped the scroll in her hands. The crunch of the paper snapped her back to reality.
"Are you sure you wouldn't rather talk to her directly?" asked Svarga as he leaned on a closed fist.
"I…No. Its better this way. I didn't leave on good terms the last time I spoke with her."
"Pfft. Queen Odalis is a kind woman."
"You're simply saying that to patronize me," she mumbled.
"Well damn, she's much kinder than my mother ever was. When I was twelve, mother killed my brother because he accidently set fire to our barn."
Sara raised her head and narrowed her eyes. "She killed…your brother?"
"Well, not really, but she did beat the restlessness from him." He laughed aloud.
Sara scoffed.
"Haha. Ren's ass was as black as an Athrum plum after she was done. That woman used whatever was closest to her. Be it a branch or some reigns." He barked even louder as he wiped loose tears from his eyes. "Those were simpler days." He quickly sat up straight. "Now, back to what I said."
She pointed at him "I'm not going to talk with her. That's final."
He threw up his hands defensively. "Aye, that's ok." He leaned in and closer to her, his mask of joy now replaced by a stern look. "I would like you to know, that no matter what ridiculous mischievousness me and my brother did, it never stopped her from aiding us. Yes, she would be disappointed at times, but if there's one thing that doesn't die in this world, it's a mother's love."
Sara nodded in agreement as a warmth set in her chest. Who knew the man had such wisdom. She felt that he was right, even so, she would simply leave her mother the letter. Writing an apology was much simpler than doing so in person, maybe she was a coward. No. After this, she would prove to both her mother and father that she was capable of more. Much much more.