The west garden in the spring was Princess Katrinetta’s absolute favorite place to occupy her free time. Between her lessons and the hours she spent at court, those precious moments were few and far between. On the eve of her eighteenth birthday, she had found a few moments to scurry away. It had been difficult, particularly since her mother and the rest of the council members found it suitable to constantly school her on the upcoming ceremony. She couldn’t even bear to think of the name. Every time she did, a fluttering would stir inside of her stomach, like the beating of a thousand butterflies’ wings. It didn’t matter that her cousins and the other women who had already gone through similar proceedings assured her that ripple didn’t originate in her stomach but slightly lower in her abdomen. They said it wasn’t fear that made her insides stir; it was longing, but Princess Katrinetta knew her own anxiety when it reared its ugly head. The closer the day drew, the more she wished she could skip it entirely.
Sitting on her favorite marble bench between two perfectly manicured forest-green shrubs, she took in a rainbow of flowers. The tulips had always been her favorite, particularly the violet and blush ones, although today it was the rich crimson of the roses that caught her attention. The flower garden was the one place where she could rest assured her mother, Queen Rona (who bore the ridiculous title Empress of All the Lands East of the Galacial Mountains and Queen of the Provinces South of the Compazional Sea) would never seek her out. That wasn’t to say that she wouldn’t send someone else to find her wayward daughter out among the insects and other winged creatures. Knowing she’d have some time to compose herself, to secret away the smile and careless posture she wore whenever she visited here, before having the duty and expectations thrust upon her again, always made Kit head off to this place first whenever she had a moment or two.
Today, she watched a beautiful azure butterfly flutter about, its majestic wings grazing the tips of the flower petals as it darted between the tulips. She imagined what it might be like to have wings, to be free from the burdens of queendom and courtship. Would she dance among the flowers as the insect did now, or would she be carried away by a windstorm?
Her answer came quickly when a magpie swept down from the sky, catching the unassuming colorful creature in its sharp beak and downing it in one gulp. Kit watched in horror, her hand flying to cover her mouth as the beautiful bug was no more. If she had been in the butterfly’s place as she was imagining, she would be fluttering about in that magpie’s stomach now. She supposed the bird must be experiencing a similar sensation to the fierce flapping inside of her own gut. Kit felt as if she’d consumed a thousand creatures like the frail insect she’d just seen meet its demise.
“You’re such a gentle soul.”
The voice behind her was a familiar one. She didn’t even turn to look at him. Even if he hadn’t spoken, it wouldn’t have taken her long to realize he was standing there. Something about his scent, the mix of leather, a woodsy note like cedar, and his personal musk, always announced Eli’s presence and instantly brought a soothing smile to her face. This time, she had failed to notice his approach. Perhaps it was the slaughter of the hapless creature in front of her that caused her to miss him stepping between the bushes behind her. She took a deep breath now, hoping he didn’t realize it was his scent she was purposely filling her lungs with, as he sat down beside her, facing the other direction.
He waited for her to tilt her head toward him before he said anything else. Kit leaned in his direction, not even sure what she could say. He was right—she was a gentle soul, so much so that her mother often questioned how she could possibly be her own child. But her aunts and the other council members confirmed it time and again—they had been there at her Birthing Ceremony, after all. And they would be there at the other ceremony, just the day after tomorrow, as well. At the thought, Kit tasted bile rising up in the back of her throat, wondering how she could possibly get through it. It didn’t matter how many of her family members had already lived through the experience; thoughts of the royal physician, Mikali, touching her in such a personal way, his crooked fingers probing before he entered her, made her feel light headed and queasy.
The commander of her guard missed nothing. His emerald eyes narrowed slightly with concern as he studied her face. Even if he hadn’t known her since she was a toddler, he was insightful to say the least. He would say it was his duty to know everything, to notice every nuance, but Kit had had other commanders and knew Eli’s gift was special. It was but one of many talents the handsome man seated next to her had been blessed with. She always felt safer, less troubled whenever he was nearby. They had been friends for as long as she could remember, and she often let her mind wander to what might be if only the laws of the realm were not so complex and completely in opposition to what she would’ve decided for herself if she was ever given the choice.
“Kit, you’re troubled,” he said, the softness of his voice not matching the imperviousness of his royal uniform. He wasn’t wearing the chainmail that often accompanied the rest of the official outfit—gray trousers with a purple streak down the side, a matching gray tunic and jerkin, heavy boots, and his sword always in its scabbard within easy reach—but he still looked just as official. The patch at his shoulder proclaimed he had ultimate responsibility for keeping the princess safe, and she couldn’t think of another man more capable of doing so. Nor could she pull her eyes away from his lips as he spoke. He hadn’t shaved recently, and the light brown stubble that graced his chin and his upper lip made him even more attractive than usual. A different sort of stirring began inside of her, more in line with what her family members proclaimed she should be feeling in anticipation of her upcoming ceremony. She could certainly differentiate between the two.
Kit brushed her long, dark brown hair over her shoulder. She’d worn it down today, despite her mother’s insistence that it always be up; she’d have to remedy that shortly, before she headed to the throne room to meet with the matriarch. Her thoughts caught in her mind for a moment as she stared into Eli’s eyes, trying to come up with the correct words to voice her concerns without sounding like a small child. Everyone knew that in the Realm of Yewforia all noblewomen must go through the Proem Ceremony before beginning their three-year-long Exploration. Admitting aloud that she was fearful would make her seem foolish, or in her mother’s assessment, weak. Even though Eli knew her better than anyone else, there was no reason to put her faults on display.
It was evident as he took her in that he could see right through her. “Kit, I can only imagine how you must feel. You have to be anxious thinking about what is to come. But before the ceremony, you still have your ball tomorrow night. It’ll be a splendid affair. All of your friends and family will be there to celebrate with you. Surely, you can find a way to focus on that, can’t you?”
Kit fought to find the correct words to express herself but was only capable of producing a nod. The thin pearl tiara she wore shifted slightly, and she reached with an unsteady hand to keep it in place. Finally, she managed to mutter, “I can. I think.” She smoothed the skirt of her flowing pink gown and resituated herself.
His smile was easy and made her feel comforted even with one foot in the fire. Her life had been fairly uneventful to this point, despite her mother’s overbearing nature. She’d never faced a true hardship of any sort--yet. In the moments when she had become distraught over something now so unimportant she couldn’t even remember what might have caused her distress, Eli had been there for her, to comfort and guide her. Other than a three year stint in the nearby province of Eastbury, followed in quick succession by another two years spent in far off Ironton, Eliason Goedwig had served the court in some capacity or another, coming to his current position when Kit turned fifteen and was allowed to choose her own commander. She hadn’t hesitated to promote him. After all, he’d already risen to the rank of captain in the queen’s army and had spent all of that time away from Castle Wrenbrook serving the realm. Her mother hadn’t opposed the choice, which had been a surprise at the time, but there were constant reminders that Queen Rona could always pull him back into her own service should she wish to do so.
In fact, Kit was shocked Eli was still sitting here beside her and that Queen Rona in all her power and wisdom hadn’t seen fit to send him away to some distant land to fight an unnamed foe.
It was obvious by the rules and proceedings of the Choosing Eli served no true threat to Her Majesty, however, and sometimes Kit thought he was allowed to stay only to torment her because her mother knew he was always just out of reach.
“You can find a way to focus on the ball,” Eli assured her, bringing Kit back to the present. His smile was more confident than she would’ve been able to muster, should she even try. “I am certain you can. Don’t worry about the Proem. It will only be a moment, and then, it will all be over, and you’re free to enjoy your Exploration as you see fit.”