7. Reyna
Chapter seven
Reyna
N eolow was the second-largest town on the Nacean River, right after Jallin. It was a hillside town nestled at the northern tip of a series of mountain lakes, and it marked the change between the coniferous forests of northern Shepara and more colorful deciduous trees to the south. As such, the hills were swathed in reds and yellows that were undoubtedly vibrant during the day, but seemed dull in the silver moonlight’s glow. Reyna was getting tired of arriving in these towns so late, but there really wasn’t anything to do about it.
Despite the late hour, their port was a bustling hub of trade, with dozens of larger ships docked and several more arriving or leaving the port. Since Neolow was on the western side of the river, Reyna boarded Lilac at a set of stables on the eastern side, where a few buildings had been constructed in a makeshift extension of the town. Visk flew them across, although a ferry sailed between the two ports all night long.
Reyna watched it pass underneath them, a simple boat with a glowing lantern at the bowsprit, and basked in a sudden thrill. “I’ve never been to Neolow before. Queen Tilaine never felt this place was worth her time.” No one to coerce here, after all. No reason for a diplomatic mission so far inland, with such extensive travel times.
“You’ve been to Jallin,” Kianthe remarked.
Reyna shrugged. “Sure, but Jallin is very close to Mercon: just a single day of ocean sailing. It’s just… exciting. I’ve heard the lakes here are gorgeous.”
“They are. Old glacier lakes, with minerals that make them the most ridiculous shade of turquoise.” Kianthe grinned widely, nudging Visk to land on the outskirts of the town. “Maybe we’ll take a hike. Have a picnic.”
“Darling, we have a job to do.” If Bobbie and Serina showed up in a timely manner, which Reyna estimated was about a seventy-three percent chance.
“There’s more to life than our missions.” The mage sounded almost petulant. “I thought we could treat this trip as a celebratory vacation. I’ve been told it’s not wise to marry someone I haven’t traveled with extensively.”
The mention of who Kianthe should marry made Reyna recall Diarn Arlon’s words, and a sour pit settled in her gut. She forced a smile. “Well, it is wise to consider your partner carefully. Gods forbid you marry someone who can’t handle a crisis.”
That wasn’t her, Reyna knew. She was excellent at managing problems, excellent at calming Kianthe down, excellent at exploring all angles. But traveling through Shepara, seeing what the Arcandor meant to people on a smaller level—and seeing how they felt about her, Reyna wondered if Arlon was right.
She loved Kianthe… but nothing was quite that easy when world leaders got involved.
“Stone forbid I marry someone other than you ,” Kianthe said pointedly.
Reyna laughed and hopped off Visk when he touched down. She resecured her sword, kissed her griffon on the head, and said, “Ponder, be good for Visk, okay?”
Ponder was spoiled and enjoyed the occasional night inside—but she was still a griffon, and they preferred to be exploring forests and sleeping under the stars. She chirped, prowled under her father’s stomach, and nibbled his feathers. He nuzzled her fondly.
“See you tomorrow, buddy,” Kianthe said, and scratched Visk just under his vicious-looking beak. “Don’t wait up; something tells me we’ll be sleeping in. But if you see Bobbie and Serina, come get us, okay?”
Visk bumped her chest with his head, chirped at Ponder, and they took off towards the western hills.
Reyna turned toward the city, tilting her head. This place had the feel of a quaint tourist town, with shops lining every street and taverns on every corner. Lanterns hung every few feet, offering plenty of firelight. And bonus: the town was bustling. A few street vendors hawked late-night meals of fish and meat. One person was selling cider, and Reyna stared at him longer than necessary.
“I bet the apples here are fantastic,” she said offhandedly.
Kianthe followed her gaze, then cheerfully approached the vendor and bought two steaming mugs. She handed one to Reyna, and they sat shoulder to shoulder in a tiny cobblestone square, leaning on the bench as they people-watched.
It was late enough that Reyna felt a bit dazed, but she sipped her cider and leaned against Kianthe. “We should find an inn.”
“Later. You should slow down a bit.” Kianthe tossed an arm over her shoulders. “How’s the cider?”
“Divine. A literal gift from the Gods,” Reyna said. A couple passing by glanced her way, and she lowered her voice. “Although perhaps I should keep those beliefs to myself here.” Only Queendom citizens worshiped the Gods, after all. In Shepara and Leonol, the primary deity was the Stars above, unless one was a mage.
Kianthe glared at the couple, her entire body warming with magic—like she could ignite anytime. Reyna pulled away.
“Key.”
The mage glanced at her, sighed, and cooled off immediately. “Sorry.”
“I appreciate that you’re trying to protect me,” Reyna said, settling back against her. “But we really should discuss a plan when Her Excellency comes knocking. She’s merely biding her time, enjoying the fact that she can flaunt you like a prized pony right now.” Reyna sipped her cider, savoring the sweet flavor. It contrasted with the bitterness of her words. “Once she tires of that, she’ll start summoning favors, just like Diarn Arlon said.”
Silence settled over them, icy as the temperature. In the plaza, warm lamps glowed, but it felt like they’d been cast in darkness.
Kianthe rested her chin on Reyna’s head. “You really need to redefine ‘relaxation’ in your mind. Because this conversation isn’t it.” She was forcing amusement, but Reyna didn’t miss the anxious undertone to her voice.
Reyna did need help with that. In Tawney, in their bookstore, she could busy herself with tea, books, and good company. The most stressful part of her day—at least once Queen Tilaine granted her blessing and removed the threat of death for treason—was determining which tea New Leaf Tomes and Tea would feature that week, and what pastries might complement it.
But Reyna would never forget finding Kianthe deep in Dragon Country, unconscious, half-frozen and nearly dead. The way that dragon loomed over her, the fear that raced up Reyna’s spine when she realized the extent Kianthe would go to protect Tawney, their friends, their shop… and Reyna herself.
Things had turned out fine, just fine, but only because Kianthe promised the impossible: a bindment to locate three dragon eggs long-since removed from Tawney. The spell was clear: the dragons promised peace if Kianthe returned the eggs, and dangerous consequences would await the Arcandor if she didn’t. If this lead wound up being a dead-end—if Diarn Arlon didn’t have the information they needed—Queen Tilaine would be the least of their worries.
It was hard to turn off that part of Reyna’s brain, the side that spent an entire career calculating the worst-case scenarios… and planning ways to stop them.
But Kianthe didn’t need that, so she sipped her cider and replied, “Apologies. We’ll focus on one thing at a time. First, the dragon eggs, then our marriage, and maybe address Her Excellency in a few years’ time.”
“Rain.” Kianthe sounded pained. She went silent, as if she was deciphering how best to phrase her thoughts. “When you say that kind of thing, I worry that you think Queen Tilaine is your problem—that you’re going to handle it alone, the same way you handled her over the summer.”
Reyna felt seen. She stiffened involuntarily, then forced herself to relax. It was so minute no one else would have noticed, but Kianthe tightened her grip on Reyna’s shoulders, almost like a hug of acknowledgement.
“I knew it,” the mage said, disheartened. “Tell me how you’re feeling, Reyna.”
She was thinking seventeen things at any given point and parsing through them now was difficult. It was late, she was warm against her mage’s side, the cider was good, and for once, she didn’t really want to address it.
But Kianthe had spoken the magic words, and their rule was that they actually said how they felt when prompted. Otherwise, their entire communication style broke down.
“I’m feeling scared,” Reyna admitted, exhaustion lacing her tone. “There’s no immediate threat, but I’m worried we can’t enjoy our married life with Queen Tilaine lurking on the edges of it.” She waited, but Kianthe didn’t interrupt—that was the other unspoken promise between them. Once the question was asked, the person got to talk until all the feelings were laid bare. “I have a few ideas, but I’m not sure how to go about enacting them just yet. If I tell you what they are, I’m worried I’ll get your hopes up—and I highly doubt things will be so easy in real life.”
Kianthe perked upright, but stayed silent.
“I’m done.” A smile tilted Reyna’s lips.
The mage was clearly waiting for it, because she leapt right in: “Easy? Is there an easy way out of this?” She pulled away a bit on the bench, just enough to meet Reyna’s gaze. Her dark eyes glimmered with excitement.
And there it was. Reyna sighed, pinching her nose. “It’s a low possibility, but I keep recalling something Diarn Feo said to me when we visited Kyaron last summer. They mentioned a Sheparan rumor that Queen Tilaine’s mother had another daughter.”
Kianthe’s expression fell. “I’ve heard that rumor. It’s insubstantial.”
“Perhaps.”
Now the mage frowned. “You don’t think so?”
Reyna stared at her cider, tracing the mug’s rim. They’d have to return these to the vendor when they finished, but for now she admired the deep blue glaze, the careful craftsmanship. “Key, my mother vanished for an entire year when I was young—maybe four or five. At the same time, Queen Eren stopped making public appearances: she spent time in her private chambers, or saw audiences only from afar. I didn’t even remember until Diarn Feo mentioned the timing.”
“By the Stone of Seeing,” Kianthe breathed. “There’s another heir?”
Confirming it felt like admitting mythical titans roamed the deep seas. Reyna desperately wanted to believe in a secret heir… but that meant keeping her expectations in check until all the research was completed. For now, her voice was cautious. “Diarn Feo has volunteered to gather a collection of eyewitness reports and articles written at the time. It’s possible I’ll explore it next year once we’ve resolved the dragon egg threat.”
“And had our wedding.”
“Indeed.” Reyna pulled Kianthe in for a quick kiss, a reassurance more than anything. “It’s a problem for another time.”
Kianthe nodded, but she had a faraway look in her eyes now.
To redirect, Reyna tugged her off the bench. “Come on. Let’s check out the town. See if we can find an inn. Speaking of the wedding… what are your hopes for it?” She handed their mugs to the vendor as they passed. “Where would you like to get married?”
“At our bookstore,” Kianthe replied instantly.
Reyna laughed. “Not Wellia? Or the Magicary? I bet either would put on a grand show for us.”
“If we chose to host a wedding in Shepara, Tilaine would throw a fit.” Kianthe rolled her eyes. “If we have it in the Capital, the Council will throw a fit. The Magicary is just a bunch of stuffy mages. So, I say we forget them all and have a small, intimate wedding with our best friends, and let everyone else deal with the fact that they missed it.”
“Bold move. No one’s going to be happy with that arrangement.”
“Except for us, and we’re the ones who matter.” Kianthe smirked. “I’ve already discussed it with Matild. We’ll clear out an area in the field south of New Leaf Tomes and Tea, ignite some ever-flame for lighting, let Sigmund and Nurt spread the word so there’s no formal invitation to trace back to us. Gossley can… I don’t know. Do the dishes. Or be lovey-dovey with his girlfriend. And did you know Tarly sings? Matild said he spends his winters practicing with his band.”
“His… band.” Reyna laughed at the idea of their local blacksmith singing in a band, and a pang of homesickness hit her. Even as they walked up the street admiring this strange new town, she would have given anything to be back in Tawney. “I miss them.”
“Me too.” Kianthe sighed, adjusting her orange hat. It looked ridiculous with her complexion.
Reyna had found an almost identical replacement in Bobbie’s community crates that morning, anticipating Kianthe would lose her first one. But it was in Lilac’s saddlebag, and she really didn’t want to fly back across the river to retrieve it.
Kianthe continued, oblivious to Reyna’s thoughts. “I’ve never been the type to miss anyone but you, but—I don’t know. Extended travel isn’t as fun anymore.”
At that moment, Reyna was inclined to agree.
They chatted amicably as the moon rose higher and they explored the town. Neolow was built on a hillside, which meant the deeper into town they got, the more of the river they could see. The view was stunning: the river was wide enough that the other bank was a mere glowing line of firelight. Neolow’s docks spread across the entire riverfront. And instead of smaller ships like she’d found in Oslop, the ships here were ocean-worthy vessels.
Reyna was squinting at a particularly ornate one—thinking it looked oddly like the brigantine she’d heard Diarn Arlon commissioned decades ago—when Kianthe pointed at another, smaller ship.
“See that one?” Kianthe waited for her to hum acknowledgement before continuing. “Designed for a mage on the crew. They only need one sail at the front, and the mage keeps it moving with wind magic while the captain steers.”
Reyna studied it. Her eyes were starting to burn from exhaustion, but she didn’t want this lovely night with Kianthe to end. “Huh. Is it hard to find a mage for that?”
“Well, all mages can reside in the Magicary—but they’re encouraged to explore the world at large, spread magic however they can. I think Harold got his real-world experience on a ship like that one. Must have been eons ago, the old coot.”
“ Master Harold, you mean?” Reyna snorted. Fighting the dragons, and the resulting bindment spell, had nearly killed Kianthe. Of the two mages who’d visited Tawney to offer their magic and help her, Harold was… not Reyna’s favorite. “And here I thought he’d saved an entire village, to be as arrogant as he was.”
Kianthe laughed. “You’d think.”
There was a natural lull in the conversation, and Reyna knew if it dragged on, Kianthe would push them towards a room, a bed, and sleep. Desperately clinging to this night, Reyna started a new conversation: “Look over there. That ship looks as nice as Queen Tilaine’s personal vessel. I wonder if it’s Diarn Arlon’s.”
The ship in question was trimmed in gold and silver edging and stained a deep mahogany; It boasted two tall masts, a crow’s nest, an upper and lower deck, and at least one level below deck.
Kianthe squinted at it, whistled. “Maybe. I know he has one to travel the river when needed.” Her eyes landed on Reyna again. “I see what you’re doing, and it’s not going to work. Come on. You’re swaying on your feet.”
“That’s an exaggeration.” But Reyna let herself be towed to the inn across the cobblestone street, basking in the warmth. The sun would be rising sooner than she’d like, but this unexpected night in a new town, enjoying Kianthe’s company, was a memory Reyna would cherish for years.
As they settled into bed, Reyna snuggled against Kianthe and murmured, “Key—no matter what happens with Queen Tilaine, we’ll handle it together, okay?”
“Same with the dragons,” Kianthe replied, kissing her. Her lips tasted like apple cider, and Reyna smiled against them. “Now get some sleep, love.”
They were both out in moments.