Xena and Lily sat on the cool stone walls in the castle courtyard during midday. They huddled together on a wooden bench, their voices low but animated as they enjoyed a rare moment of rest from their duties.
Lily's eyes danced with excitement as she leaned in close to Xena. "You won't believe what happened last night," she whispered, her cheeks flushed. "I was bringing fresh linens to the guard's quarters when I ran into him."
Xena raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Him? You mean your dashing guard with the, and I quote, 'eyes like molten silver'?"
Lily swatted playfully at her friend's arm. "Don't mock me, Xena! But yes, that's the one. Oh, you should have seen the way he looked at me. It was as if time stood still."
"Time stands still every time you encounter a new guard, Lily," Xena teased, her laughter echoing off the stone walls. "Last month it was the one with the 'voice like honey.' The month before that, it was—"
"Oh, hush," Lily interrupted, but her eyes sparkled with happiness. "You're just jealous because you haven't found your own knight in shining armour yet."
Xena's smile faltered for a moment, a fleeting shadow passing across her face. "Perhaps," she murmured, her gaze drifting to the distant hills beyond the castle walls. "Though I'm not sure I'd want one, even if he did exist."
Lily's expression softened, and she reached out to squeeze Xena's hand. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—" She paused, biting her lip. "Do you ever think about going back? To your family, I mean?"
Xena's chest tightened, a familiar ache blooming beneath her ribs. "Every day," she admitted softly. "Especially my sister. Sometimes I wake up and for a moment, I forget where I am. I expect to hear her voice, to smell the herbs drying in our cottage..." She trailed off, lost in memories.
"Tell me about her," Lily prompted gently. "Your sister. What's she like?"
A genuine smile spread across Xena's face. "Imagine me, but louder, bolder, and with absolutely no sense of propriety. That's Lilith. She'd laugh herself silly if she could see me now, all prim and proper in the royal household."
Lily chuckled. "She sounds wonderful. And your parents? What do they—"
Her words were cut short by the sound of running feet. Both women turned to see Eleanor, another maid, racing towards them, her face pale and her eyes wide with alarm.
"Quick!" Eleanor gasped, skidding to a stop before them. "You won't believe—it's the Queen! She's in the servant's quarters!"
Xena felt the blood drain from her face. "What? But that's impossible. The Queen never comes to our quarters, and certainly not without warning."
Lily nodded vigorously. "Exactly! There's always an announcement, preparations. This can't be right."
Eleanor shook her head frantically. "I swear on my life, it's true. I saw her with my own eyes. She's there now, and she looks... she looks a bit disturbed."
The three women exchanged worried glances before scrambling to their feet. Without another word, they hurried across the courtyard, their hearts pounding in their chests.
As they rushed through the winding corridors of the castle, Xena's mind raced. Why would Queen Elara come to the servant's quarters unannounced? A cold knot of dread formed in the pit of her stomach as they approached the open space where the servants gathered.
The scene that greeted them was one of barely contained chaos. Servants huddled in small groups, whispering urgently to one another, their eyes darting nervously to the imposing figure who stood at the centre.
Queen Elara cut an impressive figure, her emerald gown a stark contrast to the simple attire of those around her. Her blonde hair was bound in an intricate braid, and atop her head sat the delicate crown of the Kingdom. But it was her eyes that commanded attention—sharp, piercing, and filled with an emotion Xena couldn't quite name.
Beside the Queen stood Marjorie, the head of the household staff. The older woman's face was ashen, her usual composure shaken as she wrung her hands nervously.
Xena, Lily, and Eleanor quickly bowed low, murmuring apologies for their tardiness. When they straightened, Xena found the Queen's gaze fixed upon her, those icy blue eyes seeming to pierce right through to her soul.
Elara began to pace, her movements slow and deliberate as she examined each face in turn. The tension in the room was palpable, a heavy silence broken only by the rustle of the Queen's gown and the nervous shuffling of feet.
When Elara spoke, her voice was low and controlled, but there was an undercurrent of... something. Anger? Fear? Curiosity? Xena couldn't be sure.
"I find myself in an unusual position," the Queen began, her words crisp and clear. "One that requires help I'm certain I need everyday." Her gaze swept across the assembled servants once more. "That's why I am here."
Xena felt a chill run down her spine as the Queen's eyes lingered on her for a moment longer than the others. She fought the urge to look away, to shrink back into the crowd.
Elara's voice rose, filling the open space with a commanding presence that demanded attention. "Who among you," she asked, her tone brooking no argument, "is Xena?"
The world seemed to tilt beneath Xena's feet. She felt Lily stiffen beside her, heard the collective intake of breath from those around her. For a heartbeat, she considered remaining silent, letting the moment pass. But she knew, deep in her bones, that such an act would be futile—and dangerous.
With a deep breath, Xena stepped forward. Her voice was steadier and bolder than she felt as she answered, "I am Xena, Your Majesty."
The Queen's eyes narrowed, and Xena felt the weight of that gaze. "Come with me," Elara commanded, turning on her heel without waiting for a response.
As Xena moved to follow, she caught a glimpse of Lily's face—pale and worried. She tried to offer a reassuring smile, but it felt weak even to her.
What could the Queen possibly want with her? And why did she look so... troubled?
******
King Aldric strode purposefully down the long corridor leading to the throne room. The rhythmic clank of armor announced the presence of his guards who were always found with him, while the soft rustle of parchment marked the hurried steps of his secretary, Beatrice.
"Your Majesty," Beatrice began, her voice slightly breathless as she struggled to keep pace with the King's long strides. "I've prepared a summary of the petitioners you'll be meeting today. There are several pressing matters that require your attention."
Aldric nodded, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Very good. What's the status of the grain shipments for the northern provinces? Have we received word from Lord Gavin yet?"
Beatrice consulted her notes. "Not yet, Your Majesty. But we expect a report within the week. The harvest has been... challenging this year."
The King's frown deepened. "That's putting it mildly, I fear. We may need to consider reallocating resources if the situation doesn't improve soon."
As they approached the doors of the throne room, Aldric paused, turning to face his secretary. "Beatrice, there's another matter I need you to urgently attend to. The background check I requested on the maid, Xena—I'd like that information tonight."
Beatrice's quill scratched furiously across her parchment. "Of course, Your Majesty. I'll have it on your desk before sundown. May I ask—is there any particular area of concern?"
Aldric's expression was unreadable as he replied, "Let's just say I have some questions that need answering. Thoroughness is key, Beatrice. Leave no stone unturned."
With a nod to his guards, the massive doors swung open, revealing the amazing grandeur of the throne room. A hush fell over the assembled petitioners as King Aldric entered, his presence commanding instant respect and attention.
As he ascended the dais to take his seat upon the throne, Aldric allowed his gaze to sweep across the room. Farmers, merchants, nobles—all had come seeking his wisdom, his judgment, his aid.
"Welcome," he began, his voice strong and clear. "We gather here today to address the concerns of our people, to seek solutions to the challenges that face our kingdom. Who among you would speak first?"
A weathered man in simple clothes stepped forward, bowing low before the throne. "Your Majesty, I come on behalf of the farmers of the eastern valleys. The drought has been merciless, and our crops wither in the fields. Without aid, I fear many will not survive the coming winter."
Aldric leaned forward, his expression grave. "Speak freely, good man. Tell me what you need."
As the farmer began to detail the dire situation facing his community, Aldric listened intently.