“The Order of the Sun has withdrawn their support from the Xytan Empire,” said Sir Livius. He was a Xytan native, tall and olive-skinned with silver streaking his dark hair. “For many years, Emperor Ionnes overstepped himself and paid tribute to Reygmadra above Iolar. Still, for the sake of defending the people of Xytae, we intended to remain loyal. But last autumn, the emperor announced that we would join his soldiers in Masim.”
Adale remembered the outrage that had followed the announcement. The Order of the Sun did not wage wars of conquest, and she couldn’t imagine what Emperor Ionnes must have been thinking to even attempt to order such a thing. The Paladins of the Sun stationed in his empire might have been his citizens, but everyone knew they were more akin to priests than soldiers.
“I sent a courier to the Justices,” continued Sir Livius, naming the highest tier of the Order of the Sun. “They ordered all those who were stationed within Xytae’s borders to find more worthy posts. Some went to Masim to aid the Masimi in defending their homeland from Xytae. But most of us could not bear the thought of fighting our own countrymen and came to Ieflaria instead.”
“It is fortunate that you did not have to go so far from your home,” said Esofi. “I hope that someday Emperor Ionnes will be penitent and allow you to return.”
Not too soon, though, thought Adale. We need their protection far more than Xytae does.
“I do as well,” Sir Livius said, inclining his head. “Every sunrise, I pray that he comes to see reason. But I fear I will not see my homeland again until the day he joins Asterium.”
Adale was surprised at the admission, since she had never heard any of the paladins speak of longing for anything. But Esofi only nodded in silent understanding.
“Oh look,” said Adale as a familiar yellow-clad figure entered the room. “Knight Commander, it’s your dearest companion.”
It was very amusing to see Glaed’s jaw clench at the sight of the archpriest. One might be inclined to believe the two would find common ground in their shared devotion to Iolar, but this was not the case. It seemed that the only thing the two agreed upon was their mutual disdain.
“Pompous, prideful, corrupt old man,” Glaed muttered. “What does he believe he can do for the petitioners? Squeeze a few more coins from them?”
“Watch this, I’m going to see if I can get them to fight,” Adale told Esofi.
“Adale!” scolded Esofi.
But any minor scandal that Adale might have orchestrated was averted by the arrival of King Dietrich and Queen Saski. The co-regents took their seats, and the first petitioner of the day was shown in.
As Adale had predicted, it was a man from a northern town, asking for more guards and more supplies. He was a woodsman by trade and expressed fear that the dragons would burn down the forests if there weren’t more soldiers stationed in the north.
“Archpriestess Gerta has repeatedly stated that there are no more soldiers in the Ieflarian army left to send without removing protection from another settlement,” King Dietrich said. He looked to Knight Commander Glaed. “Can any paladins be reassigned?”
“Our priority is the farmlands in the south,” said Glaed. “If the dragons burn our fields before the harvest, it will not matter how many soldiers are stationed at our borders.”
“But the dragons are attacking from the north!” cried the woodsman. “Our lands are nearest to the Silver Isles. We are in far greater danger! We are citizens of Ieflaria as much as any farmer. Are we not entitled to the same protections?”
Now Adale remembered why she never attended these audiences. They made her want to crawl into her bed and never return to the awful outside world.
“Woodsman,” said King Dietrich, “I would grant you your request if I had even a single soldier to spare. But I do not. Nor does the Order of the Sun. I will grant you all the supplies your people need, but—”
“What about her?” demanded the man, turning to point directly at Esofi, drawing shocked gasps and murmurs from the crowd. “The entire country saw her arrive with her army! Or are they meant to huddle around the castle and protect the royalty alone?”
“Woodsman,” repeated King Dietrich in a far less gracious tone than the one he’d been using a moment before. “You forget yourself.”
“Am I wrong to expect protection from my future queen?” Desperation, it seemed, had overcome the man’s common sense. “Why is she here, if not to save us from the dragons?”
The guards were already coming forward, and Adale felt pity for the man. But Esofi raised her hand, and they paused.
“May I speak?” she asked.
There was no movement in the throne room for a long moment. After sharing a glance with Queen Saski, King Dietrich nodded.
Adale could see the tremble of Esofi’s jaw, but when she spoke, her voice betrayed no anxiety.
“Woodsman,” Esofi said. “I understand your fear and your frustration. There is no rapid solution, which is difficult to hear in such desperate times. Yes, I brought battlemages to Ieflaria with me. But my mages are few in number, and we must assign them judiciously, or else their journey will have been for naught. We have not yet decided where they will be assigned, but I swear to you that I will remember your words when it comes time to send them to their posts. Can you accept this?”
Adale was surprised to notice that Esofi’s entire body was now tensed, as though she was expecting the man to leap forward and strike her. But the man seemed to relax. He lowered his head and nodded.
“I think this petition is complete,” said King Dietrich. “You may report to the storehouses for aid. One of the clerks will assist you. Who is next?”
Adale turned to Esofi, who was still staring at the space where the woodsman had stood.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“The princess needs air,” said the tallest of Esofi’s ladies, gripping Esofi by the arm. Lexandrie? Was that her name? “Come, this room is far too crowded anyway.”
Lexandrie steered Esofi from the room, with the other two hurrying after. Meanwhile, the second group of petitioners had come in and were beginning to complain to the king and queen that the priestesses of Dayluue had put that statue out again.
Adale looked at Lethea. “Come on, we have to go after them.”
“Do we?” asked Lethea. “I want to hear this.”
Adale grabbed her friend and dragged her after the Ieflarians. They passed more petitioners waiting outside but did not stop until they’d reached a quieter area of the palace. Adale was able to direct them to a sitting room, which fortunately was not in use when they arrived. Esofi sank down onto one of the sofas, while the youngest waiting lady fanned her with a handkerchief.
“The nerve of him!” seethed the girl. “Does nobody in this country have any manners?”
“Why did you bother to respond to him?” demanded Lexandrie, as if she thought she were Esofi’s mother. “He didn’t deserve your words.”
“He was frightened,” Esofi protested. “And the guards were going to throw him out.”
“They should have!”
“For not wanting to be eaten by a dragon? Is that a crime?”
Esofi and Lexandrie glared at each other for a long moment.
“Don’t fight,” said the youngest waiting lady. “It turned out all right, didn’t it? He got an answer and he left.”
“He was not entitled to any answers, Mireille!” Lexandrie snapped.
Adale suddenly felt an appreciation for her own waiting ladies, whom she had been allowed to select for herself. She couldn’t imagine having to endure being assigned whomever her mother picked.
“Enough,” said Esofi. “Both of you, please.”
In the ensuing silence, Adale slid into the space beside Esofi. “Are you well?”
Esofi gave a brittle laugh. “Oh, of course I am. I was just a little startled. I’ve never been spoken to in such a way by a commoner. My guard was down. Do you think I responded well?” She looked into Adale’s eyes earnestly, and Adale felt her face begin to grow uncomfortably warm.
“I do,” said Adale.