The queen's chambers were on the other side of the castle. Princess Calandra stood up straight to address her mother, wearing an elegant gown of jeweled red that was cut high in the front, coming up well above her knees. She also wore ruby earrings and a ruby necklace, a small part of her late mother's dowry. Calandra liked wearing jeweled tones, especially red, but her stepmother set this dress out for her this morning just in case the prince showed up today.
Her kingdom had recently expanded trade with more nations, other than just with their traditional trade partner, the kingdom of Nachtnebel in the north. Old trade routes with Silla had just opened, primarily because of Calandra's upcoming wedding to its prince. This was sure to bring an influx of wealth between Vallin and Silla, although the roaming gangs of pirates on the Sea of Ys stymied trade along the faster sea routes and forced the usage of the ancient Great West Road, a slower and more tedious course as it passed through Kosala.
"Yes, my queen. You wanted to see me." Calandra curtsied, but not because she wanted to. Rather, this was a game she played frequently with the queen.
As she had expected, her stepmother did not appreciate the "my queen" part. The queen was an imposing woman. She was broad-shouldered and taller than most men in Vallin and had striking pale blonde hair and pale skin, common for her people from the northern kingdom of Nachtnebel in the Black Mountains. Today, Queen Inga Alpin wore a white powdered face with red lips to go with her dark red and revealing dress. The queen had some rather interesting choices of wardrobe. Most of her dresses had dark colors, sharp lines, and lower cuts or higher slits, showing off a lot of the chest and leg, all the rage in Drachenblut, the capital of Nachtnebel, but not so much in Vallin where femininity, frills, and grace inspired its fashions. The queen was having her portrait painted and paid no heed to the artist as she gesticulated wildly as she spoke.
"Oh, 'my queen?' What is this? Calandra, you know that you should call me 'mother.'"
Calandra said nothing but bowed her head in feigned acquiescence.
"What have you been doing in the northern tower? I told you that is no place for a princess. I don't know why your father entertains your fantasies so much with this sorcery."
"It's not sorcery. It's alchemy, my queen," Calandra answered.
The queen glared at her, picked up a black fan with red lace fringe from the nightstand, and started fanning herself with her large hands. The portrait painter just stopped his work.
"It's unbecoming. No prince would ever want a princess who got her hands dirty." The queen inspected her, running her close-set blue eyes up and down Calandra's body, not liking what she saw. "Tsk-tsk. Have you lost weight? Your clothes seem to just hang on you these days."
Calandra stood still and did not talk back, even though she desperately wanted to.
"Remember, daughter, it is better to have a presence worthy of a man of respect, such as kings and emperors." She then chuckled to herself. "Also, men like something to hold on to at night."
Princess Calandra breathed in deeply to hold her tongue. The queen then turned to her maidservant. "Make sure to give the princess extra creams and cakes for her tea."
"Yes, Your Grace," came a swift reply.
Princess Calandra wore an undetectable look on her face, trying her best to hide her true thoughts. Castle life will get you good at that. How dare her stepmother talk about her like she was a sow at a market! Yes, she had lost a little weight, but that was because she was so busy poring over alchemical texts day and night. Was the queen unaware of the gravest threat to the kingdom? If you asked her stepmother, it would have been how skinny the princess was!
"If I may be excused."
The queen sighed in exasperation. It showed on her face that dealing with her stepdaughter was tiresome for her and perhaps the reason she was so insistent on marrying her off. "Yes, you may." She then added, "Make sure you finish your meals," as Princess Calandra left the chamber.
The princess hurried to see her father. She wanted to know how things were going with the campaign against the Dark Mother Cult. The Dark Mother Cult had grown in the past two or three years. Though the cult had been around for hundreds of years, it never really took off until recently and this coincided with the prevalence of the black rot curse.
The Dark Mother Cult worshipped the goddess Nyx, who was the goddess of death. Usually, these cults and their fanatics were easy to quell, but this one was different. Why it had grown so quickly was unknown, but the princess had a hypothesis and attributed it to the spread of the black rot.
Princess Calandra did not announce herself in her father's council chambers. She was used to walking in and getting involved in discussions. Of course, she was chastised about this every time it happened, but that did not stop her. She waltzed in through the heavy wooden double doors and saw her father, King Rolan Alpin, at a table with a map surrounded by his advisors.
"Many sightings around the ruins north of the village of Pict recently, Your Majesty," an advisor with a bald head said to the king.
The king was tall and dark. He was quite handsome in his youth, but the years and troubles weighed heavily upon him. He looked thinner, especially in the face, and his once glossy beard had become sparse and wired with gray streaks. Calandra had a wave of worry pass through her body, culminating in a lump in her throat, as she studied him. Her father had not been taking his meals frequently and had been spending a lot of time in his council chambers, sometimes alone. He had not paid visits to his family either, as they had not seen him for days. Only Calandra had paid him personal visits by seeking him here.
"Spies have spotted activity in the ruins. Cultists gather every fortnight," the captain of the knights noted. "Should we send soldiers?"
"Not yet," the king answered. "So far, they have done nothing wrong."
"But they worship Nyx. It is forbidden," another advisor chimed in.
The king, seemingly unconcerned about the law, answered, "What would happen if I policed every household in the kingdom for which god or goddess they worshipped? The people would call me a tyrant. We will watch for now and see what happens."
Calandra sighed. Her father sounded so defeated. He would usually be at the front and center of quelling these fanatical cults that did nothing but damage to the kingdom. "The black rot and the Dark Mother Cult are connected!" she exclaimed. "If you could just…"
"Lana," he said, cutting her off, his voice tired. "Lana" was the name that only her father and youngest half-brother were permitted to use for her. He turned to her, now addressing her presence. "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be preparing for your departure? I heard the prince will be here soon. He's traveled a long way for you."
Usually, by ship, the journey from Silla would take less than two weeks by sea, but because of the dangers of pirates on the Sea of Ys, the prince and his retinue had to take the Great West Road, a journey of over four weeks. That would be more than two months round-trip for him altogether, which is a long time to travel for a marriage.
"Father," Calandra protested. "How could I leave my kingdom now when it needs me the most? How could I leave you?"
Her father gently placed his right hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry about me. I am the king. It is my duty to look after my kingdom and my family. You do not see me as such a weak man, I would hope not."
"Of course I do not," Calandra answered, but his reassurance did not quell her apprehension.
"Do not trouble yourself with rot and fanatics. This is for me to deal with. Besides, you have a bright future to look forward to. I heard the prince is as brave as he is handsome."
Calandra bowed her head. She could not care less about this prince, whoever he was. "I look forward to meeting him," she lied.
The king seemed pleased with her answer, even though she knew he knew it was a lie. "All will be in good hands, my dear." And with that, she was shown to the hall.
She walked down the corridor slowly, considering what was at stake if she left Vallin for her upcoming marriage. Why did her father not concern himself with the black rot curse? She knew he hated alchemy and only tolerated it because of her mother's patronage when she was alive. If alchemy was to be the solution to the curse, then she was the only one who could do it.
As she walked back to her chamber for a nap, she made a stop to meet her half-brothers studying with their tutor and interrupted their lessons. Her youngest half-brother, Jonas, her favorite, was only seven years old and had the pale hair of his mother. The oldest half-brother, and next in line for the throne, Cador, was thirteen and had the deep brown hair and brown eyes of his father.
"Lana," Jonas called out and ran to her.
"My little lark." Calandra reached out to hug him. "I hope you aren't giving your teacher too much trouble."
"Only a bit," Jonas answered a little too truthfully, as young children often do.
"Pardon my intrusion," she said to their tutor, who did not look so pleased with her, but being that she was the princess, he dared not insult her.
"You will come see me after my lessons, won't you?"
"I wouldn't miss it for all the jewels in the kingdom. We can go to the lily pond and see the ducks. There are some new ducklings, bright yellow ones."
Jonas got excited at this prospect, but Cador cut in. "Taking a prince to see ducks? Surely his time could be best spent elsewhere."
Calandra assessed Cador's demeanor. He was serious in nature, just as she. That is why they never seemed to get along. Maybe it was also resentment. She resented him for being born a boy and automatically next in line for the throne. And he resented her for, well, she wasn't sure yet.
"Not at all, brother," she retorted. "Exploration of the natural world can teach him much that books cannot." She glanced over at the book he was reading, a dry text on levies of imported goods. "However, I do agree that books are important. I find myself fascinated by alchemical texts."
Cador scoffed, "Alchemy."
"Alchemy, yes," Calandra continued. "If I do not put the knowledge gained from books to use by experimenting or finding the source in the natural world, how much could I hope to learn?"
"Touche," he answered dryly, not concerned with debating or conversing with her further.
"I will leave you to your studies, then." She took a bow and left.
Her heart hurt as she entered her bedchamber and started removing her dress. She lay down on her bed in her underclothes and stared at the canopied ceiling above her bed. She would have to leave all of them behind. Pangs of guilt lodged in her throat. Well, it did not bother her to leave them all behind, just her father and her little brother, Jonas. But she was not going to leave them for marriage. She was going to find The Hermit and, with his help, use the Philosopher's Stone to make a panacea. She had to leave before the prince arrived, and he was due any day now. Her mind trailed off as she began plotting her escape.