The Royals | A LVNDR Short Story
When dragons return to a kingdom hiding secrets, an unlikely alliance begins. Part 1/4 on LVNDR.
The Knight’s sleep was plagued by his worst memories. While the wars had been over for over a decade, Edwin still found himself stuck beneath the horrors of it until the sun broke through the early morning fog.
Some mornings, he would awaken having achieved a full night of restful, dreamless sleep. Others, he would wake up from a nightmare, aware that it was simply a painful souvenir from his past.
On his toughest days, however, Edwin awoke confused. Unsure where the line between nightmare and reality was drawn, he would wander the woods of his property looking for threats that weren’t there; searching for hours, convinced the phantoms had escaped his mind.
Which is why, when a bellow echoed through each corner of his ancient cottage while he slept, The Knight knew better than to trust his instincts.
After all, dragons had gone extinct decades earlier. His grandfather had made sure of that.
“Don’t let her trick you again!”
Edwin’s shout to the stable hands fell on deaf ears as he dropped his dappled Clydesdale, Lady, at the village stables. Despite the halfhearted promises to the contrary, Lady would somehow convince them to feed her so full of carrots and other treats that she could barely make the three-kilometer trek up to the castle. Again.
Lady had won over everyone in Connacht — the smallest of the five kingdoms — when she was only a sickly foal whom The Knight had nursed back to health when a bout of equine influenza ravaged the castle stables. Years later, she had become Edwin’s best friend, closest partner, and — technically — a noble steed.
Edwin offered polite introductions to each vendor he passed, secretly scanning the skies. Only pausing to offer polite introductions as they set up their wares — a variety of flowers, berries, and baked goods perfect for the early spring day.
Sneaking past the ramshackled gate of a private home, so hidden within the vegetation that it was difficult to tell where its walls ended, and the mountain began, The Knight bent down to pick weeds lining the cobblestone pathway leading to it until he was within the tiny alcove serving as an entryway.
It wasn’t until he had knocked thrice on the warped wooden entryway door that Edwin heard the shout of The Pharmacist from within, inviting him to enter. At the request of its owner, The Knight bent under the doorframe to enter the custom-crafted residency.
The Pharmacist had not only attended to Edwin as a baby but also his brother, his father, and his father before him. The old man’s unyielding longevity the best advertisement for his care.
While The Pharmacist had technically retired, The Knight was always welcome. The younger man didn’t blame him for seeking the life of a hermit. The idea of hiding away in his home and never speaking to anyone beyond what was necessary did seem ideal.
Which is why Edwin was surprised to hear the sound of conversation. The crackling fireplace was just loud enough to drown out anything intelligible from the dialogue as he walked down the hall, the damp smell of an ever-present cauldron growing as he approached the workshop.
Upon reaching the doorway, Edwin offered a purposeful cough as a way of greeting. The Pharmacist’s face shot upward, as if he had forgotten he’d let him in mere seconds earlier. Nervously fixing his glasses, The Pharmacist hobbled around the hooded figure he’d been in conversation with, offering a series of flustered “hellos” to The Knight.
Edwin’s eyes didn’t stray from the mysterious guest behind the shop owner, as they fixed the black cloak around their face. Among the midnight creases of their attire, all that Edwin could make out was the piercing gaze of a woman. “I didn’t realize you took such early appointments.”
The Pharmacist forced a soft laugh, bringing them back to their conversation. Peering up at Edwin through his round glasses, The Knight was surprised he hadn’t started a flame with the friction from palms nervously rubbing together. “I wasn’t expecting you this morning.”
“I apologize.” It was Edwin’s turn to flush, having forgotten that he was technically the intruder in the situation. “I’m out of tonic a little earlier than anticipated.”
The muscles in the pharmacist’s body visibly unwound as if he were expecting something else. Wordlessly, he whirled toward the shelves behind him, lined with bottles and jars. He grabbed a dark purple pot and handed it to The Knight, who quickly pocketed it before offering the man assistance getting down. “With water and…”
“A pinch of sugar,” Edwin smiled. The Pharmacist absolutely insisted that the medicine be accompanied by sugar despite having long surpassed childhood. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” The Pharmacist reached up to pat The Knight on his shoulder as he walked him toward the front door. “Can I ask that you do me a favor?”
Edwin’s heart dropped. In his many years, The Pharmacist had never asked him for a favor or taken him up on any of Edwin’s or his family’s many attempts to tidy his yard, clean his home, or even send personal guards in times of darkness. “Anything.”
“Please don’t tell your brother about this.”
The courtyard was already bustling with cooks, stewards, and footmen when The Knight arrived. He would have stopped one to ask what the commotion was about, but they all seemed too busy to interrupt.
Edwin accompanied Lady as she walked herself to the barn, ears back like she, too, was trying to work out what the fuss was about.
Inside, most of the stables were occupied. Horses’ eyes darted towards one another as the attendants did their best to calm them with food, water, and blankets.
Lady shared sideways glares at the tourists around her as The Knight tried to make her comfortable. With a few extra sugar cubes and a pat on the nose, Edwin promised to get her out of the crammed space as soon as possible before departing for the castle.
Curiosity piqued, Edwin had barely made it through the stone archway before catching sight of the man he was looking for.
Silas had been the principal protector of the walls that The Knight had grown up in for his entire life. He’d even been on duty the night Edwin was born, often telling the tale of how he, unlike his brother, was so quiet that the physicians had worried there was something wrong. In reality, Edwin simply chose his words very carefully from a very early age.
Not only had The Guard kept the royal family safe for The Knight’s entire life, but he had also passed these skills down to Edwin. Somewhere between Silas teaching him how to use a dagger in battle and his family teaching him how to use a steak knife at dinner, Edwin decided he preferred the former.
Catching his apprentice’s eye, Silas politely retreated from the sentry he’d been conversing with. Thirty years Edwin’s senior, the time reflected on the older man’s face in battle scars rather than wrinkles. Despite having experienced danger as a daily task for his entire adult life, he had a gentle demeanor; always greeting The Knight with the warm embrace of a father simply welcoming his son home from a trip.
“I think I can assume why you’re here early.”
The Knight didn’t respond as Silas led them into a more private corner of the castle, where they tucked themselves against a window overlooking the glassy surface of the lake beneath, out of earshot of anyone within the main halls.
“Good news for you, I suppose...” The Guard’s eyes glanced to the door to ensure they were still alone. He still lowered his voice, even after confirming their privacy. “Those were just creatures that can eat you flying overhead, not a bad dream.”
The Knight knew that his mentor was being facetious, but it was true. He was more at ease knowing that his night terrors hadn’t intensified. Despite that, he understood the reality was that they were still in a very dangerous situation.
“What’s brought them from the coast?” Edwin was still digesting his surprise. The dragons hadn’t left the southern shoreline for over sixty years when, under his grandfather’s rule, they’d been hunted to near extinction. The Knight was proud to say his father was a kinder man who outlawed that and many other barbaric practices.
“Family vacation?” Silas shrugged, obviously not wanting to give more weight to the notion that they were there for nefarious purposes. Edwin could see right through it, “Animals migrate all the time. I’m sure they’re ju—”
The Guard stopped mid-word to bow to a figure behind him. With a roll of his eyes, The Knight turned to do the same.
“Get up, you pious bastards.” The King embraced Silas, then lightly jabbed at Edwin’s shoulder before pulling him in for a hug, as well. The sight of his older brother in a crown was still not something that he’d grown used to, even years after his inauguration.
The Guard silently excused himself with a nod of his head and returned to where his order was being prepared for patrol.
“Back to tormenting the castle, I see,” Edwin teased. Despite having been raised to lead, Rowan seemed more suited to be the forever child running through the halls, causing just barely manageable chaos.
“Back to bossing me around, I see,” Rowan shot back. His tone constantly teetering between light flamboyance and a lethal temper.
“I figured it wouldn’t hurt to be early.” Edwin changed the subject, knowing that being direct with his brother was the best way to catch any hidden truths underneath the practiced facade of a composed commander.
Rowan threw a sharp laugh as he picked an apple from a bowl on the entryway table. Striding through the courtyard, he seemed oblivious to everyone who had stopped what they were doing to offer a quick bow.
It was the first time Edwin had seen his brother since his return from a month-long hunting retreat. While he knew he should at least feign happiness at The King’s return, it had been the most peaceful month of The Knight’s life.
“Our neighbors have joined us,” Rowan shared in a way of explanation. He didn’t seem to care about secrecy as his voice carried even as Edwin led them down the stone pathway toward the gardens. The King tried to hide his concern underneath a short, condescending laugh, but the shadows in his eyes gave him away.
“Apparently, we’re going to war.”
The great chamber cooled as the brothers entered. Despite the desperate attempt at warm hospitality plastered across The King’s face in the form of an unpleasant smile, he was met with the sting that accompanies a conversation suddenly ending. The new arrivals not privy to the same information the flies on the wall had heard mere seconds earlier.
Three elderly men sat hunched over the glossy surface of the rectangular table. Gravity had already begun to win its lifelong battle with their bodies. There was nothing spectacular about them aside from the velvet robes and golden crowns donning their frail figures richer than any fabric found in the commoner’s village. As far as Edwin could tell, they couldn’t be deemed a true threat if they tried.
It was The Princess — spine straight, head high — seated in the chair directly facing the brothers, who emanated the strongest presence. She was obviously in charge here.
It was Rosalie’s first time representing her kingdom since a shipwreck took her parents’ lives. Munster may have been the largest of the five kingdoms, but it was also the most reclusive. While the other kingdoms met for festivals and dinners, Connacht’s relationships with its southern neighbor stopped at trade routes and defense pacts. Both of which had ended under their new ruler’s reign.
“While I’m thrilled to host you all this morning,” Rowan’s forced grin warped into a grimace, “I think we should start with what you’re doing here.”
A chill ran down Edwin’s spine at his brother’s lack of tact, but he knew better than to question it openly. His father would often say that the only thing that kept Connacht standing was that its people stood together. He’d follow that guidance.
“The flight was as eager to find who had scorched their home as we were.” The Princess’s tone didn’t falter as she stared back at The King, her stormy gaze swirling as it stayed locked with his.
A hush settled over the room at the blatant accusation. The Knight quickly scanned everyone’s faces, absorbing how each person reacted. Rowan took a deep breath as if steeling himself for the conversation’s quick descent into madness. A madness that he seemed more than willing to conduct.
When Edwin’s gaze landed on The Princess’s, he was startled to see her already staring back at him. More staggering was realizing it was the second time they had locked eyes that day.
“We can discuss whatever you please and are here to help aid your kingdom in whatever way we can, but I won’t allow unfounded slander with our wine still on your lips.” Each of Rowan’s words was plaited with an intentional arrogance.
“No one is intending to slander,” the man to The Princess’s left argued cautiously, cutting through the tension as his eyes darted between the younger royals. “We simply want to understand why the flight of dragons wound up over this very castle mere hours after Munster went up in flames.”
“Your guess is as good as ours,” Rowan offered, crossing his arms. The chair’s broken leather creaking under his weight shift. Edwin couldn’t help but notice how his brother looked like the spitting image of their grandfather, whose portrait monitored the situation from its home above their heads. “We are just as interested in why we were all woken up by their screams.”
Edwin shuffled uncomfortably from his position against the cold stone. His brother was prone to outbursts, but they were always in private. Meaningless altercations with the stable hands here or minor insults thrown at his cooks. While The Knight was unsettled by his brother’s outrage toward a group of fellow royals, The Princess was not so shaken.
“Well, then we share an interest in the investigation.” Rosalie’s sharp smile could rival Rowan’s, a blend of sharp teeth and soft lips that came together in a meaningful scowl. Curls snaking across the neckline of her velvet dress as she leaned forward, fingers entwining on the marble.
“Other than following your strays,” The King taunted, still acting less a partner in the hunt and more the hunted, “what leads you to believe we’d have any reason to risk our alliances?”
The Princess’s cool demeanor broke for the first time. She worked her jaw as if The King’s response had truly baffled her.
“The fire broke out before the dishes from our shared dinner yesterday evening had even been washed.”
Edwin stiffened, his eyes not leaving Rowan’s face. Knowing that whatever came out of his brother’s mouth would be what he wanted to say, but his face would give away the truth.
The King took a breath before sketching out each word as if choosing exactly how he wanted each syllable to sound.
“I have no clue what you’re talking about,”
The Knight was disarmed by how easily the lie came to his brother.
The meetings had ended early.
Edwin knew better than to overwhelm his brother with conversation after a fit like that. Rowan would be in his room throwing things until he’d broken enough to consider the world around him equal to his internal state. With his own schedule having now been freed up, The Knight retreated to the library. It seemed a better time than any to reacquaint himself with the politics of the realm.
Tossing his armor onto an upholstered cushion near the window, Edwin perused the shelves nearest the back wall. Calloused hands grazed over worn brown spines of books whose authors had long since passed. By the stains and tears on the covers, The Knight could tell many had turned to their text for information. He pulled one down and flipped through it as he paced the room, the large window at the center letting in enough natural light to read throughout the afternoon.
Edwin’s focus was on the dragons. Social creatures, the dragons migrated from shore to shore frequently to meet with other groups, known as wings, from neighboring realms. They stopped migrating half a century ago as hunting in Connacht became more prevalent. The practice began during the Great Famine with good intentions. One dragon would feed the village for an entire season. The hunters then respected the creatures, choosing the oldest members of the population and never hunting more than they needed. It was only a few years later, however, that dignitaries and their staff began hunting for sport. The notoriously dangerous creatures had become the most sought-after trophy on the western coastline.
As the natural light grew dim, The Knight gathered the items of his suit he’d discarded earlier. Eager to continue reading but needing to prepare Lady for the trip back to the village before sunset, he propped the book underneath his arm before exiting the library’s warmth and into a seldom-used corner of the castle. The Knight was lost in thought when a voice sliced through the silence a mere yard before him.
“Are you as insufferable as your brother?” The Princess instigated, sitting up from where she’d been perched on a bench along the windows.
Against his better judgment, Edwin grinned. “Much worse, some would say.”
“I’m Rosalie.” The Princess clasped her hands before her as she flattened her feet in their woven flat shoes. Until then, The Knight hadn’t noticed that she’d been standing on her toes as if to appear taller than she was. In reality, she fell about a head shorter than him.
“Edwin,” The Knight mirrored, nodding as he attempted to sidestep around her. Rosalie stepped to block him again. From a distance, it would look as if he were initiating a dance rather than being interrogated.
“At least The King doesn’t run from an uncomfortable conversation.”
Edwin bristled at the verbal jab. He wanted to stubbornly oppose the notion with a quick comeback, but only proved it to be correct when one never came to him.
Rosalie ceased the attack. “I’ve only come to ask that you keep our run-in earlier today a secret.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Edwin fibbed, making another attempt to move around Rosalie. The physical gesture of creating distance from her in opposition to a growing instinct to move closer.
“Does an inability to tell a believable lie run in your family?” Rosalie stepped in front of him, forcing him to stop just before her, their faces centimeters from each other. He sighed before arching his neck to look down at the woman.
“Neither of us is lying, princess.” He would worry later about how easy the dishonesty came to him, but his one goal was to get away from this conversation — from The Princess — as quickly as possible.
“I’m only asking you to keep it between us,” Rosalie’s breath dissolved into a soft plea.
“Why would I do that?” Edwin’s eyebrows furrowed, both genuinely curious and relieved that The Princess didn’t realize their fear of being caught in The Pharmacist’s workshop was a shared one.
Rosalie started to respond, but was interrupted by Silas rounding the corner. The Princess quickly turned to face him and began to offer an excuse. Before she could respond, The Knight gently placed a palm against her back in a silent request to let him serve up the excuse to his friend.
“Curfew is in one hour,” Silas warned, letting his gaze linger on each one of them as if deciding whether he should intervene, before ultimately choosing otherwise. “I’d hate to explain to your brother why you’ll be taking breakfast from a cell, Edwin.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time!” The Knight teased The Guard, who simply shook his head in response before turning to continue his rounds. Edwin’s hand didn’t move from Rosalie’s back until the sound of Silas’ footsteps faded.
While only minutes ago his goal had been to escape the conversation as quickly as possible, The Knight now patiently awaited The Princess’s next move on the board. Eager to continue playing their game.
“If you keep this secret, you can have the dragon lands your brother is so keen to control.”