As they reached the outer walls, flower petals started snowing down on them. How it had happened, she did not know, but it felt as if every flower seller in the entire city must have gathered their wares together to be shredded and tossed from the heights. Rose petals mixed with daffodils and daisies to create a fragrant, beautiful rain. A small blue forget-me-not landed on Maia’s hand, and she snatched it up before it blew away, smiling at the memories it inspired.
The mayor guffawed at the display, his features glowing with the triumph of the moment. He motioned for Maia to ride under the arch and into the main bailey. The greenyard was off to the left, and to her relief, the scaffold was not still standing. It had been broken down, the plinth knocked onto its side and broken to pieces. The greenyard swelled with people—merchants and tanners and weavers all jumbled together and waving and screaming her name.
The mayor beamed. “I have never seen the like,” he shouted. “By the Blood, what a scene!”
Maia’s heart beat hard in her chest as their horses continued to approach the huge doors of the keep. There were guards stationed on the walls looking down at them. Their helmets concealed their faces, but they wore her father’s uniforms.
The mayor reined in his stallion, and the beast stamped nervously. Maia’s own mount still trembled with fear, and she tried to soothe it by stroking its mane.
The mayor held his fist high in the air, and the folk in the bailey fell silent, though the roar from outside the walls did not abate. Tension and dread hung in the air. Maia’s mouth went dry as she gripped the reins, squeezing the leather straps hard enough to bite into her skin, and stared up at the walls.
The mayor raised his voice loud enough to boom through the courtyard. “In the name of Marciana Soliven, heir of Comoros, I command you to open the gates! She is the rightful ruler of Comoros, upheld by the people of Comoros! Castellan! Open the gates!”
There was a tremor of anticipation as the crowd awaited his decision. Maia stared at the huge barred gates and heavy doors. It would not be an easy task to burst them down.
A few moments passed with no action on either side, but then there was a clattering sound, then a groan, and the gate started to rise as the winches began tugging on it.
The crowd went wild with cheering before it had risen even an inch. The air was raw with energy, and Maia felt a shiver go down her back. The screams deafened her. She watched with relief as the portcullis lifted and then the yawning chasm of the doors parted and opened.
The first people who emerged were Dodd and Suzenne, hand in hand, grinning at her triumphantly. Maia almost wept with the joy of seeing them together and hale. Behind them was the Earl of Caspur, a limping and bruised Captain Carew, and several other nobles who doffed their hats and joined in the cheering. So she had supporters within the castle as well. Her heart felt ready to burst.
Maia kicked away from her stirrups and was about to jump down when a soldier rushed up to help her dismount more gracefully. Along with the mayor, who had also climbed off his horse, Maia strode forward to greet her friends. She hugged Suzenne fiercely, blinking back tears as Dodd grinned like a fool at her from over his wife’s shoulder. His only obvious injury was a mottled bruise on his cheekbone, and Suzenne looked well behind the haze of sleeplessness.
“You are alive!” her friend whispered in her ear. “We feared it was a trick!”
Maia hugged her even tighter before pulling back and greeting Dodd with a hug.
The Earl of Caspur gave them a moment before stepping forward. He dropped to one knee and gazed up at her.
“Lady Maia, Your Majesty, I thought if your friends were the first people you saw, it would help you understand the truth of our allegiance.” Captain Carew also dropped to one knee, though he grimaced with pain at the effort. Soon the entire group before her had dropped to their knees, her dear friends included. Hearing a flutter of motion, she turned to see the entire courtyard was now kneeling before her. Tears swam in her own eyes as she beheld her people.
“The city is yours,” Caspur continued in a hoarse voice. “The kingdom, you must fight for, but we stand with you, my queen. We are yours to command.”
Maia’s heart nearly burst as she continued to stare at the courtyard, at the tears streaming like rain from the faces of her people. Even the mayor was tear stricken. She felt their fresh hope, their imploring looks that begged her to change things for the better. Her throat was swollen, and she did not know if she could speak. She only knew she must.
Maia faced the courtyard, her heart brimming over. Then she sank to her knees before them. There was a gasp of surprise as she did so.
“I am your servant,” she called out as loudly as she could. As she knelt there, she felt the presence of dozens of Leerings within the castle. Some were in the kitchen for heating and cooking food for the castle. Some were for water. Some made light. She felt them all at once, a combination of usefulness—each one carefully sculpted and carved to serve a purpose. And in that moment she invoked them and summoned the Medium through them. All she wanted was to give the people a taste of it, a chance to feel what she had so enjoyed upon arriving in Muirwood.