Princess Tale (Not formally titled yet)

“No,” Kyoven said again. “He isn’t supposed to be the one who is dies!”

The servant kept his eyes on the ground and his head bowed.

“I am sorry, your Beauty,” he murmured. “That is what I was sent to tell you.”

“No!” She shouted and stomped angrily out of the room. She had to find her mother. Her mother would set things right.

Rushing through the long, stone walled corridors and up three flights of steps, Kyoven almost ran, though her breath came in gasps. Shoving the heavy doors of her mother’s room open, she stumbled to the bedside, almost fainting. Rushing was something that a princess was never required to do.

“Kyoven!” Her mother said. “What are you doing, child?”

Kyoven leaned against the tall bed and struggled for air. Her mother was still beautiful, despite the illness that left her so weak. Soft black hair was piled high on her head and her clear blue eyes looked strained and tired.

“Mother,” Kyoven said breathlessly, “what … is? … Why … was? Vavadi said … Mivaska!”

Queen Vadena closed her eyes, her face contorted in pain.

“Retched girl!” Snapped an old woman, sitting in her mother’s favorite chair. “Look what you’ve done! Why couldn’t you let her go to her rest peacefully!”

Kyoven looked as if she had been slapped. Nobody dared speak to her that way. Especially not a peasant, as this one plainly was, with her wild grey hair and patched blue dress. There were flecks of brown and black on her dirty apron, and she smelled musty, like the forest after a storm.

“Neeja,” her mother said quietly. The old woman pursed her lips and nodded to the Queen, giving the princess one last glare.

Kyoven looked at her mother, then back at the old woman, her breathing returning to normal. She raised a shaky hand and absently smoothed her hair.

“Mother?” She finally managed.

Vadena opened her eyes, lined with pain, and motioned the old woman closer.

“My vial, Neeja.” She whispered.

“But your Grace,” Neesha protested, hand at her throat.

“I am dead to the world as it is.” Her voice was sharp, though still calm. “My life is my own, and I will give or take it as I please. My vial, good lady.”

The old woman’s expression softened, and Kyoven noticed with surprise that it looked like the woman would start crying. She turned to the locked bureau, taking a key from her apron pocket, and drew a clear blue bottle out of the bottom drawer.

Turning to face the Queen, she held the bottle close to her bosom.

“Kyoven, daughter, listen to me.”

Kyoven turned her head to her mother, but couldn’t help glancing back at the bottle in the old woman’s hands.

“Child, don’t worry so.” Her mother almost smiled. “My time is not today.”

Kyoven searched her mother’s eyes, but could find no hint of a lie in them.

“Now,” she said. “Listen. We knew your father would fall in this war. In fifteen years, you have been well prepared for that event. He has never been close to you, Kyoven. But he loved you, in his own way.”

Kyoven was bursting with the urge to reassure her mother, and ask all the questions that were firing into her mind. She was obedient, though, and kept her silence.

“I did not prepare you, however, for Mivaska …” her voice caught. Blinking rapidly, she took her daughter’s hand and squeezed, hard.

Kyoven’s heart dropped. She felt a lump in her throat. No!

“If Vavadi has told you that your brother has … fallen, … then the kingdom is lost.”

The air around her grew close and her head swam. Lost? She was the one who was lost. Lost in a terrible dream that she couldn’t wake up from.

“Don’t shake your head at me, dear.”
Vadena said gently. “Now is the time to be strong. Draw on the strength of the Spirit.”

Kyoven closed her eyes, willing the Spirit to calm her and clear her head. She couldn’t shake the cold, harsh knife that had pierced her belly.

“The Lithenons,” her mother continued, “are a barbaric people, Kyoven. You must not give in to their ways.”

“But why?” Kyoven burst out. “I won’t need to give in to them. You’ll be there with me. You’ll tell them about our way, the Kamashki way, about the Spirit and loving everyone, and peace! Mother!”

Nothing could halt the tears now, and Kyoven’s mother wept silently with her.

“My daughter, my daughter.” She said. “You were chosen for this time. I don’t know why. But there’s something you need to remember.”

Kyoven wiped her eyes.

“The Lithenon king.” Her mother’s gaze was above her head, and her voice was low, detached. “King Liien. He is … He will try to … You must not marry him, Kyoven!” A low rasp came to her mother’s voice, and it frightened her. She had never heard her mother speak like this. Half sitting in her urgency, Vadena gripped the girl’s hands in both of hers, and looked fiercely into her eyes.

“Promise me! Promise me you’ll not marry him!” She rasped.

“I promise, Mother!” Kyoven trembled.

Vadena leaned back on the pillows, letting her hands fall to the bed. Beads of sweat glistened on her forehead. It was a long time until she spoke again. In the silence, Kyoven glanced back towards the old woman and the blue vial.

“Neeja,” her mother whispered.

The woman quickly crossed the room to be as close as possible.

“Your Grace,” she said. “Rest your voice. Do not strain yourself. You wish to hold the vial?”

“No,” the whisper was barely heard. “Give it to Kyoven.”

Shock coursed through the girl. She knew beyond a doubt that the bottle held some kind of deadly poison, and was supposed to speed her Mother’s death, when it came. She couldn’t want her own child to poison her!

“No, Mother, I won’t!” She almost yelled.

“Kyoven, listen!” The rasp was back, though her mother still whispered. “This poison. It is ancient. Very potent.”

Her breathing was shallow, and she labored to find the strength to speak.

“If King Liien … says he will marry … You must …”
Kyoven looked at the vial in horror.

“Kill the shkoykna, Kyoven.” Neeja said roughly, startling the girl. “Make him writhe in pain.”

Vadena smiled and shook her head slightly.

“I thought this was a painless poison?” Kyoven said.

“It is.” Her mother whispered.

Kyoven looked from the vial to her mother to Neeja.

“But why? Because he is a barbarian, like his people?”

Vadena’s eyes locked with hers. There was silence.

“Meddlesome girl!” Neeja muttered, breaking the tense quiet. “Leave us now. Tiring your mother with all these questions.”

Queen Vadena nodded slightly, closing her eyes again.

Kyoven took the blue vial and turned, walking slowly to the door, slipping the vial into her pocket. She looked back.

“I love you, Kyoven.” Her mother smiled faintly.

“I love you, Mother.”