Chapter 48 #2
A serious expression came over her. “You can see how well that would turn out for Aquillas. He has been pacified with a long leash over the northern territories thus far. A chance to prove himself a good leader, I suppose. Some people believe him stronger than I. And perhaps that is so. But strength is not all that makes a good leader. It is wisdom and patience; being slow to anger and quick to understand. It is self-sacrifice, love for your people, and being true to the heart that cares for them. What I saw today has proven all those qualities in both of you.” A soft smile reached the corners of her eyes as her gaze fell to Anya and Roderick’s joined hands.
Could she see the way Roderick gently massaged the back of her hand with his strong fingers, or the way Anya’s claws poked the surface of his skin?
The Regent looked at Blackbird and Sir Oshfeldt in turn. “And if the people of Valeria are even half as honorable, I have hope for the reunified partnership of our kingdoms. Which is why I have a proposal for you.”
“I think I’ve had enough proposals for one day,” Anya chuckled.
The Regent laughed. Not a regular laugh, but an unbridled, joyful laugh that didn’t carry an ounce of royal restraint. The raw, vulnerable, authentic expression secured her position in Anya’s mind as a person worth trusting and befriending.
Inhaling a calming breath punctuated with hics of a lingering chuckle, the Regent continued, “I think you will find this one most intriguing. Your Highness—”
“Please, call me Anya.”
The Regent took kindly to the invitation to drop honorifics.
“And you as well. Call me Agnes.” She took a sip of tea.
“Anya,” she echoed with a smile, “it seems our current goal is aligned: foster a relationship between our kingdoms. I am sure you know that is a delicate process, both socially and politically. Which is why I think we have a unique opportunity for both of us to ‘show our hand’, so to speak. To prove our trust in each other—with living collateral.”
The words hit Anya like one of those glaciers would’ve hit the Lupus Star. The concept of living collateral was archaic to Valeria. She had assumed it was an archaic practice everywhere, most of all to a kingdom older than history. Trading lives to strongarm peace…it was unfathomable.
“I couldn’t—”
“This would only be done with the enthusiastic agreement of the parties, and it would only be for a few years. Perhaps ‘educational exchange’ is more apt.” Agnes lifted her head, looking at the door, where Sir Bayard stood at attention. “Sir Bayard.”
The guard’s stoic demeanor cracked a little with a curious twitch of one brow. “Yes, Your Highness?”
“How would you like to meet your daughter?”
Sir Bayard’s mouth fell open and his eyes instantly welled with tears. “Your Highness, do you mean—I would go back with them?”
She nodded. “If Anya is in agreement.”
“Of course,” Anya said. She was confident she could convince her parents to grant him stay.
There was much to learn from him and plenty to teach, and the Council here would greatly respect the opinion of an honorable citizen of their own who had experienced the progress of Valerian society first-hand.
Though “no” was always a possibility, she had no doubt Sir Bayard would be more than content to wear whatever mask he had to if it meant being with Marg and his Valerian love again.
Anya bit her lip as the obvious question dawned on her. Who would stay here?
“Who among us did you have in mind?”
Agnes stretched a hand toward Blackbird and Sir Oshfeldt.
“Blackbird?” Anya gasped.
Blackbird nearly choked on a sip of tea. “Me?”
“Me?” Sir Oshfeldt echoed.
“Your magical abilities are of great interest to us. How your human heritage has affected it, its limits, its strengths, weaknesses, how it feels—”
Agnes went on and on, almost bubbling like a passionate student with their favorite subject, until Blackbird slowly wilted down.
“I don’t really have magic,” she mumbled. “I rely on channeling it from someone else.”
“That is not what I saw in that hall,” Agnes said firmly.
“I didn’t help you,” Sir Oshfeldt reminded Blackbird. “Not this time.”
“But how will I know if I can do it again?”
Agnes shook her head. “You misunderstand me. Aquillas is not in search of powerful mages. We are in need of your perspective, your hunger for knowledge. You need only stay and study at the Tower of Mages.”
“I-I-I—” Blackbird stammered. “I can’t. I can’t…” She looked at Anya, eyes swirling with shock and anxiety. But when Anya dug deeper into her best friend’s violet gaze, she saw a twinkle of excitement that would surely burst into a star with a single word.
“Go.”
Blackbird sat up a little straighter. “My Lady?”
Anya bit back tears. “Only if you want to. But I think we both know the answer.” She just couldn’t bring herself to say it aloud.
“B-but,” Blackbird sniffed, “what if I fail?”
“You won’t. You can do this. I know you can,” Anya said. Her voice wavered, but the truth of her words didn’t.
Tears welled in Blackbird’s eyes as she looked at Anya, then at Agnes, nodding wordlessly.
Agnes hummed approvingly, then turned to Sir Oshfeldt. “And you?”
“What do you think?” Roderick asked.
Sir Oshfeldt glanced at Blackbird with a melancholy smile, surely aware that he’d lost the valiant quest for her heart even without an opponent. It was time to let her fly.
He looked pointedly at Roderick. “I think someone has to mind the knights now that you’re a seadog, sir.”
Roderick smiled. “There’s no one better for the job.”
“Then it’s settled.” Agnes looked outside, where the sun was hitting high noon.
“Ah. It looks like your ship should arrive soon. I sent my envoy to bring them back for you.” She stood, and the rest of them followed suit.
“As for the stones, keep them as our show of goodwill. And as for Lady Rowan”—she turned to address her—“the next session at the Tower begins in three days, so time is of the essence. I will give you until sundown to say your goodbyes.”
“I think that’s everything,” Sir Oshfeldt said, setting Blackbird’s luggage onto the back of the carriage. The hippogriff at the head brayed at the sudden thump. Seagulls cried overhead in the bustling port.
“Ready to go, Miss?” the driver asked.
“Just a moment,” Blackbird called. She exchanged a quick goodbye with Sir Oshfeldt, who bid her farewell with a cordial kiss to the backs of her fingers.
When she came around to the side of the carriage, Anya pulled her into a tight embrace. The rush of Blackbird’s familiar scent and warmth made the reality of losing her best friend slam into her.
“Thank you,” Anya said softly, “for being so much more than my lady-in-waiting.”