Cecilia POV:

“Halt! Who goes there?” Guard

Cyrus pulls up first, his horse still panting from being run ragged these past two days.

“I am Cyrus of the Royal Guard, I have here on business concerning his Royal Highness, the King. This is my seal.” Cyrus

The guard looks at him bug eyed for a moment before running back at the gate and starts shouting to have it opened immediately. The gate itself is rather underused, not directly connected to the King’s Highway, and leeding only through back alleys that, most people, think are full of dead ends. I know better, from having went this way back when I left the capital five years ago.

God that brings back memories. I think that’s when I first met Y’sar as well, he was my bodyguard for as long as it took me to find a place in society; before I became his apprentice, that is.

We trot through the gateway and start going through the dirt roded alleyway. It was a section right between the wall and a few houses, so some people dumped their refuse down here. Sigara doesn’t seem to be very comfortable here, but that’s not surprising, she hasn’t had to be around shit infested holes before. This is an entirely unfamiliar environment for her, so anything would be a little startled at first.

We keep going down our way, a few stray sounds from the slums coming out at us, though no people or animals to greet us. Eventually we come across a stone wall, the back of a staircase to the ramparts. At a glance, it’s just a regular, slightly worn down stone face, but to the trained eye, it is a door. Wood-Kin craftsmen can come up with some very amazing things, like a wooden door that looks and feels exactly like quarried stone.

Cyrus hops off his horse and pulls out a piece of paper, probably trying to see if this really is the place. I don’t blame him, this is probably his first time here, and I would pay money to see him actually notice this damn door on his first time. He started to feel around the entire thing, which actually started looking funny to myself and Y’sar. The trick behind this door is that it has a hidden icon on it of the Lady Varta, mother of keys, and Cyrus is currently grabbing her breasts instead of the key. You only ever really notice the icon after someone who’s been here before explains it to you, a written explanation is usually only given to people who are known to be escorting those who have traveled these gates. Actually, those written explanations are supposed to both leed you astray and have you grab funny parts, one of the few avenues for joking in a professional manner they have, that also mislead those idiots that steal the documents.

After a few more moments, Cyrus caught our states in the corner of his eyes, then looked straight at us. The look of pure confusion on his face caused myself and Y’sar to lose our composure and flat out laugh at him. After Y’sar calmed down first, he explained how to see the icon, making Cyrus shred the explanation and start stomping on it. This surprised me a little, and also confirmed my suspicions. This guy was either a reject noble who left to join the Order, or a very promising commoner, and was most certainly promising. He looked to be around the age of twenty and had achieved the sixth rank of ferocity as well as the third of blindness, but then again, not as good as me.

Very few are as good as me.

It fucking sucks. Why, you may ask? Simple, nobles tried to make me their breeding stock. Don’t ask.

While Cyrus was having his little tantrum, Y’sar simply activated the door. He placed his hands on the key and turned it, detaching the door’s lock. Y’sar swung the door open and Sigara started down the hallway we had been presented. Y’sar and Cyrus followed suit not long after. Eventually we were travelling through the tunnel, only illuminated by the glow of the Blue Ertan Moss. The light was low, but more than sufficient for our horses and myself, not entirely sure about the others, though Cyrus most definitely did not need to see; a little help from his mastery over the fifth path.

We didn’t talk too much, only the clitter clatter of the horse hooves and the breathing of our worn down steeds filled the tunnel with sound. While everything was silent on the outside, I was not even close to being calm on the inside. Memories and feelings surged through me as every step brought me close to the palace, to a place that I once thought akin to hell. But now I was the Queen, people couldn’t do what they once did to me, I had the power they needed, and I sure as hell was one to hold a grudge. It didn’t matter to me how much they had changed, I was going to be as vindictive as possible, heads wouldn’t roll, but there would be a great amount of new management.

After a half hour passed, we found ourselves in front of the door leading to the Palace entrance of the tunnel. My heart is pounding in my throat, and I wonder how all of this came to pass. Why didn’t the others just stop hanging on the Queen’s every word? They should've known that Dad would have come up with some way to keep them from the throne, he always had just the right plan in place when he needed it most.

This time, it would be me.

I don’t know how I feel about him taking me back here, but I’m glad I got a reprieve from this place, if only for a little while. Living as a Ranger was rather enjoyable, I got to relieve my frustrations on every little shit and punk that the contracts allowed me too, and goodness has that done me a world of good.

Y’sar got off of his horse then turned the key stone on this new door. This time, the door was a representation of Cecilia, the goddess of the moon. I was named after her because of my snow white complexion and silver hair. The key stone in this representation was the blue moon, a representation of Cecilia’s loneliness, due to a few myths that would take a while to explain.

The door opened, and Y’sar swung it open, just for us to be met with an empty courtyard. I remember this place vividly, though. This is the outer courtyard of the royal palace, and the figurative wall between the servants quarters and the main palace. The courtyard was empty, and an eerie quiet had descended over the area. We quickly made our way over to the stables which were at the other end of the palace, and an old Wood-Kin greets us. I’m surprised. Not many Wood-Kin survive to live this long, at least not in a society that lives as short as our own. Sometimes the Wood-Kin get a little too reckless after their second generation’s worth of friends and lovers die of old age. Wood-Kin can live on the up end of five hundred years, so the ones that reach two hundred get very death defying, simply because they could care less.

This guy is also new, by the looks of it. He wasn’t here five years ago. Then again, I never really went near the royal stables when I was younger, the guards always stopped us… where are they?

The Old Wood-Kin takes a look at me and then a huge grin takes to his features. Something about all of this is a little unsettling, so I slowly started to lower my hand towards one of my sabres. Again, where the hell are the guards? Where is everybody?! This place was busy as all hell everyday, year round!

“Hey son! You didn’t say the girl was this much of a bombshell!” Oh Sweet Eldar No

Now that I look at him more closely, this guy seems to be wearing a ranger’s insignia on his working, the insignia being two red stags bowing their heads to a sale-balance, which usually means one thing.

Ranger General.

Y’sar laughs sheepishly and I start glaring at him. The fuck is going on here? Nothing's making sense! First, the courtyard is empty, second, the stables are unguarded, and now Y’sar’s dad, apparently, is making a pass at me…

This is all some weird nightmare, isn’t it? That Orc must have hit me on the head while we were fighting. Yup, only solution.

Y’sar’s dad then lets a serious expression fall over his face as he bows to me, making me a little uncomfortable in the process. I’m very much so not used to the idea of one of my bosses bowing, kind of screws with my understanding of my place in the hierarchy. Then again, I’m now the queen, so my position in the hierarchy just jumped from Journeyman Rank 9 to one of the two hands of the pact.

“My apologies for the cold welcome, my queen, but only a select few can know of your… promotion. Your father has also made it so that any and all servants whose loyalties would be split between yourself and the other nobility have been removed. The other Royalty and courtiers have been distanced and a gag order has been placed on the capital, so we have some time before nobles start playing games with you at the center. At most, we have two weeks before hearsay becomes fear, so you will need to learn enough to at least pass by and pick a new staff by then. Other than that, your father needs to talk to you, rather urgently. Oh yes, my name is also Y’mar, milady. Forgive my impoliteness. You have yet to make the pact, so my actions are without excuse.” Y’mar

And he’s bowing again! What the hell! And he’s not stopping! What did dad always say in these situations?

“At ease?” Cecilia

He lets out a relieved breath and look up at me, smiling. I then motion towards his servant’s garb with the embroidery of his station. This I really don’t understand.

“Oh, this? Well, worked on a stable when I was younger, so I thought I’d help out the stablemaster, as most of his work force was purged. Allow me to take care of your steeds, Knight boy, take them to the Royal Chambers, you should know the way.” Y’mar

The three of us dismount and start leading the horses over to Y’mar. When he takes Sigara’s reins, he grins.

“What’d you name her, your grace?” Y’mar

I was just about to say Sigara when I realize that it’d probably make me a laughing stock were my steed be named something so insulting. What redeeming qualities does she have? Well, she’s definitely a runner, the only reason she’s tired is because of the fatigue from yesterday's run persisting, she was doing wonderfully the entire time and I had to stop her from outpacing the other two. Good ride too, felt like I was sitting in a stationary chair, aside from the wind that is. She was also going nuts over the run, I don’t think she’s had the opportunity to cut loose and run like that once, from what Cyrus has told me of her. It’s decided then.

“Lugurinacta.” Cecilia

He nods and starts smiling, and I hear another coin pouch being thrown behind me as well as Cyrus grumbling angrily. At this point, I have to question the intelligence of Cyrus. Also, when do they make these bets? We haven’t really been out of earshot of one another for the last two days, after all. The only solution is that, like always, Y’sar’s crazy luck has allowed him to make literally every bet before I joined up.

But, this doesn’t really matter at the moment.

“Cyrus, can you take me to my father? There seems to be a lot we need to discuss.” Cecilia

Cyrus nods and starts taking us down the corridors. Along the way, I see a Ranger who bows to us before continuing on his rounds. Now I understand why all the guards are gone, they were replaced with Rangers. We come in all shapes and sizes, but the average Ranger can take down about five well trained guardsmen easy, so having an entire garrison of Rangers makes this place several times more defended than it was previously.

Eventually I’m in front of the Royal Bed Chambers, or as I liked to call it, the cry room. This is one of the only places that I could talk with my father without fear of anything. That usually involved a bit of tears on either side.

Mostly his, and don’t call him a wimp, there are reasons why nobility keep their kids at their manners until they’re of age before presenting them to the world. I, unfortunately, didn’t exactly share in their good fortune. It wasn’t always crying, though. A lot of times it was him trying to make up as much fatherly time as he could, to make up for some unknown wrong that he probably blames himself for. He beat himself up for years about culling an entire noble family after they tried to sell the nation over to one of the mainland nations; despite giving them three fucking tries to get their act together.

My dad has a good heart not meant for ruling, not cruel enough.

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, then stand up and gather up every last bit of my pride and dignity for my meeting with dad. I haven’t seen him for almost five years now, and I was kind of pudgy last time he saw me. I should make a good impression on him. He is trusting me with his kingdom after all, the thing he has worked his life to rebuild from the shitstain it used to be.

The least I can do is look like he can trust me with it.

I open the door and take a few steps forward. The smell is very familiar, my father's, except now it doesn’t even have a trace of the former Queen. You have no idea how infuriating it was for me back when I was nine to have my dad be covered in the Queen’s scent. Much preferred it when he reeked of mom--

Oh God… all the times when I asked him about that…

Even mom blushed at that, she never blushed. She was freaking shameless. People called her fire because you could get hot and could never touch her. Stupid name, I know, but for some reason stupid names are the ones that persist.

Well damn, there goes my composure, at least the hallway into the chambers hooks, so he can’t see me. I wipe off the horrified expression I have on my face, and replace it with one of stoicism. Note to self, never think of dad pound-- GODDAMN IT!! I DID IT AGAIN!!

Okay, calm down. It’s just reproduction, a lot of people do that. I could do it whenever I want to, most people try too at least. That’s how I started getting called moon goddess, again, stupid name. Then Y’sar started calling me moon cow once I had that weird… growth spurt. I mean, it just happened! One day, flat as a board, the next, I’m bigger than most dairy cows.

Okay, yeah, much better. Note to self, go on tangents on the off chance that you think of mom’s meat getting-- FUCKING SHIT!!