Ann

The sunrays streamed through the window of the study, filling the room with a red blinding light for just an instant. Then the sun left, leaving the world in the dark. A flock of servants hurried to light the candles, placing them on the oak table standing in the middle of the wide but bare room.

Bare, because there was no decoration or sumptuous arabesque - nothing. The room looked spartan, unadorned and essential. It was located in the west wing, a part of the castle built almost a thousand years ago when the human race was on the brink of the abyss. The people of that era had to use all their energy to stay alive. They had no time for trivialities. That's exactly why Ann had chosen this place. She wanted to transmit the same message, the same sense of urgency to her aides, the few people she could trust in these troubled times.

She sat on a padded chair at the head of the table, examining ancient parchments, and new documents - everything that could give her an edge over her foes. Unfortunately, it wasn't going well.

"There is nothing here! Nothing!" She rose, abruptly slamming her hand on the table, giving free rein to her anger. She'd kept that rage at bay for years, but she couldn't do that anymore.

She knew many would be surprised to see her that way. Unlike her sister, Ann Copperton was unremarkable, meek and gentle like a scared mouse. The perfect puppet for the greedy Highlords.

For more than half of her life, she'd pretended to be someone else, holding her tongue and keeping her head down when the nobles laughed at her family. She'd bided her time, waiting for the right moment to enact her revenge, take back what was rightfully hers. She had waited long enough.

"What's the use of knowing who married the ancestor of the Valenford house?" She threw a parchment on the floor in a fit of pique, "Or that House Lonesdhal and Madsen are quarreling, over some isolated village in the middle of nowhere?" She tossed another paper away.

Two of the men seated around the table shifted uncomfortably in their seats, but not the third one. He was an old man, his face almost as yellow as the ancient parchments scattered all across the table. He must have been a tall man in his youth, but now he was curved and twisted. He kept rubbing his veiled eyes, trying to focus, but without success. Adept Adolar they called him, and he had been her teacher, and her mother's teacher before that.

"Learn from the past, princess. There is no greater master of life than history." Adept Adolar croaked, dispensing his pearl of wisdom.

A pity that it wasn't really useful in this case.

Her eyes bored into Rowley, the man on her left. He looked uncomfortable. He kept looking back, his elusive brown eyes dwelling on the door as if he expected someone would suddenly rush in and plunge a dagger in his back.

Anna cleared her throat, "Rowley, where are we with the councilors?"

Rowley glanced at her, just for a short instant, before averting his gaze. Anna frowned. She didn't like the man. No, "like" wasn't the right word. She simply didn't trust him. She knew nothing about his past and those long dark cloaks Rowley used to wear, the way he looked at the door, and above all, his profession, were suspicious. He was her Spymaster, and she hated spies. She was surrounded by them. Every maid and butler, every courtier and noble around her could be one. Besides, if there was one thing she'd learned growing up at court, it was that a man who doesn't look in your eyes is a man who has something to hide.

"Your majesty" Rowley bowed, "I sent my men to dig up information about the councilors. Except for the captain of the royal guard, of course." He said, glancing at Duncan.

The captain of the royal guard slightly bowed. Anna looked at him before nodding, urging Rowley to continue. The right to nominate the captain of the royal guard was one of the few privileges the queen had left.

"Wayne Decker, the commander of the fleet and Edward Kinshaw, the minister of commerce, are both vassals of the Anchorvys."

Anna didn't even blink. Theoretically, House Anchorvy and the merchant guild were two separate entities. In reality, it was a cadet of House Anchorvy that had established the merchant guild seven hundred years ago and the family still controlled it.

"Lycus Florianus is the lord treasurer for House Avernus and Ser Robert Godfrey the Great Marshal for House Alhstrom. Bishop Almericus is the Court Chaplain for the Temple of Dawn and...Clifton is the Chamberlain."

Her face hardened when Rowley mentioned the Chamberlain, "Clifton?" She asked, noticing that Rowley hadn't mentioned his surname, "What about his house?"

"My queen..." Rowley faked a cough, "He doesn't have one. He was a troubadour and...a comedian before coming to Fivestar."

"Comedian?" She repeated, unable to understand what he meant at first. Then she turned scarlet, her lips drawing back in a snarl, "A buffoon?" She hissed.

Rowley squirmed in his seat, confirming her theory.

She was nearly afraid to ask, but she had to, "Who? Who does he answer to?"

"Highlord Bernard Summermere" It wasn't Rowley to answer, but Duncan who remained silent at her side so far.

So it's true. It's the Summermers' nominee.

"And the High Cleric together with him, no doubt." Rowley interjected.

However, the old Adept chose that moment to wake up.

"The High Cleric is not a man to use sneaky tactics." He contradicted him before glancing at Ann, "He is not your friend, and he will never be, but he has nothing to gain by shaming the crown publicly," He looked more clear-headed now.

"The Temple had done it for centuries." Ann objected, fighting the urge to scream.

"Perhaps. But remember, the Temple is not as united as you think. There are factions within it. I'm afraid this is the work of someone much more radical than the High Cleric. Maybe..."

Duncan, Rowley, and Ann stayed quiet, carefully listening to Adolar's words, but the old man didn't talk anymore. Ann awkwardly smiled as she realized her old mentor had already closed his eyes and was snoring.

Rowley cleared his throat, "Maybe the High Cleric is not directly involved," He admitted, though he didn't seem convinced, "But without a doubt the Summermeres are."

Ann looked at Duncan. "Duncan?"

The Captain shrugged, "Right now it's hard to say, my queen. We need to know more."

Ann closed her eyes and took a deep breath. They were full of determination when she reopened them, "I want the Chamberlain followed, day and night. No matter where he goes or who he meets. I want to know everything about him." She ordered Rowley.

He bowed, "Of course, my Queen."

Ann raised her chin, "What about the other councilors? Have you discovered anything useful?"

Rowley scratched his black beard, "As your majesty knows, all the councilors came from far away. They are cadets, sons of minor houses. I suspect the Highlords did this on purpose. They want to make it harder for us to find something about them."

"The councilors are expendable, easy to control. They have no connections or supporters here." Duncan added.

Rowley nodded, "That too."

Ann rubbed her temples. This meeting wasn't going as she'd expected.

"So you've got nothing." She said, unable to hide her disappointment.

"I need some time." Her spymaster reluctantly admitted, "But I am sure that you will find the information I discovered about the Great Marshal very interesting, your majesty" Rowley smiled deviously.

Ann raised a brow. "Robert Godfrey?"

"Yes, your majesty. Ser Robert Godfrey is a landless knight and owes all his fortune, including the appointment as Great Marshal, to this wife, Rowena Bellborne"

"The Bellbornes of Redhood Creek" Duncan said, resting his thumb and index finger on his chin.

The captain of the royal guard was at least ten years older than Ann's eighteen, but he looked much younger, no older than twenty-five years old. He was clad in plate armor, muscular and tall like a Wildlander.

She slipped him a curious glance, "Isn't that a powerful house of the Wildlands?"

The knight nodded, "Yes, my queen. They made a fortune thanks to the slave trade, though now they seem more apt to kill the elves than enslaving them."

Ann arched her eyebrows, "Kill them? Don't they worship the ancestors anymore?"

"They are one of the few houses that converted to our faith. They worship the Lord of the Morning now."

Ann grimaced. That wasn't a good sign. "What about Ser Godfrey? What do you have on him?"

A smile danced on Rowley's lips, "A secret that could destroy him." He dramatically replied, "It seems that the distance from his wife pushed Ser Robert into the loving arms of one of Madame Emony's girls."

Duncan snorted, "That's it? Half the men in this town visit that brothel, including many pious priests."

"Fornication is a venial sin...for a man." Ann agreed bitterly.

She ground her jaw. A venial sin for a man, but a mortal sin for a woman.

Rowley's smile didn't falter, "But those people don't share the same, let's call them, particular tastes. Ser Robert's favorite is not a common wench, but a young girl with a pair of adorable pointed ears."

"An elf?" Ann whispered, struggling to believe it. It seemed too good to be true.

"Yes," Rowley confirmed, his smile widening, "and like all the Temple's believers, the Bellbornes would see the act of consorting with an elf as an abomination of nature."

Duncan looked thoughtful, "Ser Robert would be ruined."

"Killed, most likely." Rowley corrected him, smiling without a shred of empathy, "The punishment for a common man found to..." He faked a cough, "bed an elf is castration, but Godfrey is a nobleman. The Temple would burn him at the stake."

Ann took a deep breath, "If that's true...we have him."

"My Queen, three votes aren't enough." Duncan dutifully reminded, "You need five votes to control the council."

Ann smiled, "I know, Duncan. Don't worry."

"There is another matter, my queen" Rowley butted in, "Morris Anchorvy and his wife, your sister Helena, requested a private audience."

Ann thought a bit about it before nodding, "I will meet them soon."

"And Jacob Summermere, the Highlord's heir, sent a missive." Rowley went on. "His younger son has never visited Fivestar and seems quite eager to leave Symongale and...to meet you, my queen." Rowley's allusion was so blatant that there was no need to ask why the young Summermer wanted to see her.

Ann gripped the arm of her chair, "I will be...delighted to offer the kind knight and his retinue hospitality, of course." The words struggled to come out of her mouth, but she chose them with care, well aware that the scribe was recording everything.

Then she straightened, looking at her aides, "Is that all?"

"There are some alarming tidings from the Wildlands, your highness" This time it was Duncan to speak.

Ann tensed. Duncan was a reserved man, but now he looked more serious than usual.

"It appears that the Summermers and the Temple are trying to organize a Holy Raid."

Ann sighed with relief, "That's nothing new, Duncan. Highlord Alfric Alhstrom will deny them passage as usual." She gave a dismissive wave of her hand.

Duncan, however, didn't seem to share her optimism, "But my queen...Alfric Alhstrom didn't refuse this time."

Ann stilled, "What? Are you telling me...he accepted?" She sounded incredulous.

"We have no definitive proof..."Rowley interjected, "But it seems likely, your Highness."

Duncan looked grim, "Two years ago Highlord Alhstrom allowed the white gowns to preach in his lands. I am afraid that granting the Temple's army safe passage..." He trailed off, but the meaning was clear.

Ann's whole body tensed as anxiety swirled through her.

The only time when the Highlords forged an alliance was two hundred years ago. And when that happened, the Coppertons lost everything.

She squared her shoulders and did what her mother had taught her to do: she brazenly bluffed, pretending the news hadn't shocked her, "Send your spies to Thunderfield." She ordered Rowley, "I want to know what's really going on between these two Great Houses."

It worked well. She'd had a lot of training, after all. Her voice sounded strong and firm, filled with the authority of a real queen.

No matter what, I can't allow them to join forces. Individually, the Highlords are hard to deal with, but together...

Ann rose, "And send your men to tail Ser Godfrey. Discretely of course. I want to catch him in the act if possible."

"Of course, your majesty" Rowley's smile was a bit mellifluous, his small brown eyes shining brightly.

Ann ignored him and rubbed her shoulders, "We'll discuss the other matters tomorrow. This will be all for now. Thank you." Ann dismissed them.

Rowley bowed and quickly left. Duncan tried to wake up Adept Adolar, but the old scholar kept snoring, blissfully unaware both the Queen and the captain of the royal guard were looking at him. When he finally succeeded, her old mentor profusely apologized to her, wiping off the drool off his chin before limping out of the room. Duncan was about to do the same when Ann called him.

"Duncan, stay." She said to him and ordered the servants to leave.

Soon only the two of them were left.

The royal knight lifted an eyebrow, "My queen?"

"We still haven't talked about your new role as the captain of the royal guard. I hope you weren't surprised." She winked at him, teasing him a bit.

"I was." Duncan honestly admitted, "I thought a lot about it, my queen, and I think I am not worthy of such an honor..." He began, but Ann raised her hand.

"There is no one more worthy than you, my friend."

Duncan seemed unconvinced. He shook his head, "Without a doubt, there are many people more wise, experienced and.."

"...trustworthy?"

They exchanged a glance, but it was Duncan who averted his gaze first.

"You know there is no one I can trust in the castle. The Highlords' spies are everywhere. I need you," She confessed, and something flickered in his gaze, his face morphing as his features softened, "I need you, my knight."

Duncan lowered his head, and when he looked up at her, his pale blue eyes were cold and distant as usual.

"Very well, your highness."

She smiled when he accepted. Duncan's house was old and proud, but like all the crown loyalists, he'd lost everything in the war, two hundred years ago. Fallen Lords they called them, houses that took the queen's side against the four Highlords and the Temple.

Her family's demesne had been much bigger at the time, but after the war, they were barely able to keep the crown. The lands that once belonged to house Copperton were split between their enemies while their vassals lost everything. In the following years, the Highlords established the council, and the crown's authority waned.

"What do you think the Anchorvys want?" Ann asked after some time.

Morris Anchovy and her sister lived here, just a few miles away. They had many occasions to meet. Yet, she had the foreboding that there was more to that meeting than mere courtesy.

"They want to pay homage to the new Queen, of course." Duncan replied, maybe a little too fast.

"Duncan, please. I want to know what you really think."

Duncan sighed, scratching his head, "I think the Anchorvys want to offer their support."

Anna frowned, "Their support? Why? What do they have to gain?"

"You're the queen." He reminded her.

"A puppet queen." She corrected him, "I have no money and no army."

Duncan's eyelids sagged, but he didn't try to correct her this time, "They need you, your majesty."

"Why? House Anchorvy is rich, the richest family in the kingdom. Their lands are safe, their fleet powerful..."

"Their lands are safe for the moment, and their fleet is powerful," He agreed, "but they aren't that rich, not anymore."

She knitted her brow, "Are you talking about their trade problems?"

Duncan nodded, "They made a fortune trading with the Eastern continent, but they can't do that anymore. Your majesty knows that the Swampsea is not navigable."

"I heard about it. It's infested by sea monsters, right?"

"Indeed, you are correct, your grace. The Swampsea swallows up people and boats. No one can cross it."

"They can't go south."

"They can't go north either, not as long as the pirates of Redsails control the Strait."

She was starting to understand where this conversation was going, "The pirates are a plague, but I heard a Wildland noble obtained a great victory against them recently."

"Marulf Kaalhund, yes. His house used to benefit from the trade with the Anchorvys. Many merchants from Seagorge visited Kaalhund to buy pelts and slaves before selling them in the markets of Ten Islands. House Kaalhund has much to gain from defeating the pirates."

"There are other ports in the Wildlands." She pointed out, "They could move their goods by land, avoiding the pirates altogether, and then sail for the Eastern Continent."

"My queen" Duncan patiently said, "there is a reason the Wildlands are called the way they are called. The land is wide and mountainous, harsh and unforgiving like the people who live in it. Besides, there are only three ports the Kaalhunds could use. Strom end is too far, and everyone, Kaalhunds included, hates the Bellbornes. Daahl would be the most obvious choice, but I know the two houses have some kind of disagreement."

Ann sighed, "The Kaalhunds and the Anchorvys seem to have the same objective."

"Indeed. But defeating the pirates won't be easy. The only way to put an end to piracy is to directly land on their island and conquer it, exterminating them. But no one has managed to do that so far."

Ann creased her brow, "What if they go north? The Anchorvys could circumnavigate the Embersea."

"That would be a long and expensive trip, my queen. Besides, the Frozen sea is almost as dangerous as the Swampsea."

Ann shook her head, "The Anchorvys can't reach the Eastern continent by sea." She hadn't realized the situation was that bad. Bad and absurd. The Anchovys were famous for their fleet, and yet, their formidable ships were completely useless, "What about by land?"

"The Avernus won't open their gates to them."

That answer didn't surprise her. Sabuleum's gates had been shut long ago, though no one knew why. Many people assumed House Avernus was trying to hamper the advance of the Temple's faith, but no one knew for sure.

"The Summermers? Dartmoor is one of the largest ports in the entire kingdom. They could use it as a base."

Duncan nodded, "That's what the Anchorvys did for years. However, everything stopped three months ago when the Summermers started blocking the Anchorvys' caravans at the border."

She gaped, "Why?"

Duncan lifted his shoulders in a half shrug, "I'm sorry, your highness but I don't know for sure."

"Three months ago." Ann repeated, "Just a month before my mother died."

She stared at Duncan. He looked calm, even comfortable, but she had known him all her life. He wasn't telling her everything.

"You know something, don't you?"

He opened his mouth, "My queen, I..."

"Speak, Duncan." She demanded, pinning him with her eyes, "What are you hiding? What happened three months ago?"

Ann saw him clenching his fists, sensed the silent battle raging inside him. However, after a moment or two, his arms dangled powerlessly at his sides and she knew she'd won.

"Your Highness won't let this go, right?" When she didn't answer, he sighed, "The Summermers."

Of course, they are involved.

"What did they do?"

"They tried to change the succession laws. They wanted a..." He averted his gaze, unable to look at her.

Her face darkened, "A king. They want a king."

Ann wasn't surprised when Duncan nodded. There was a time, just after the Cataclysm, when men could inherit only if there were no women available. In the last two hundred years, however, the Temple had been very busy changing the laws and removing the women from positions of power. Changing the kingdom's succession laws was just the final nail in the coffin.

"And tell me, how did the council vote? No, wait...before that. Why didn't I know about this?"

Duncan looked uncomfortable, "It was your mentor's order, my queen."

"Adept Adolar? Why would he..."Ann faltered, remembering something else that happened three months ago.

My sister married Morris Anchorvy.

Ann suddenly rose, setting her palms down flat on the table, "Duncan, who of the old council supported my mother?"

I must be wrong. Please, I have to be wrong.

Duncan hesitated before saying, "The Anchorvys."

Ann's knees buckled, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths as she sat back down, unable to stand anymore.

"Four votes." She glanced at Duncan, her voice shaking, "My mother needed four votes to stop the Temple."

"Your Highness, it's not like you thin..."

"She made a deal with the Anchorvys, didn't she? Their support in exchange for my sister. Right?!"

"My queen, please calm down..."

"Calm down?! How can I calm down?! She sold her, Duncan! My mother sold my sister for a vote!"

Duncan flinched, but Ann had no intention of stopping.

"I never understood why my mother agreed to marry my sister to that...that frog. The women of House Copperton never marry with men of four great houses. She repeated that to me countless times." She shook her head, "Now I know why she broke the rule."

"Your Highness, the late queen..." Duncan tried to reason with her, but Ann didn't let him talk.

"And what my mother did next? She disinherited my sister, removing her from the family line!"

"Your Highness!"Duncan shouted, finally managing to get her attention, "The late queen did that for a reason. You know she did it for..."

"Me?" She laughed, but she was starting to sound a bit hysterical, "And how I should feel about that, Duncan? How should I feel now that I know my mother took everything from my sister to give it to me? How can I face her? Answer me, Duncan!"

Duncan froze, his shoulders sagging, "Your Highness, I'm sorry..."

"No...it's...it's not your fault, Duncan. I can understand why you and Adept Adolar decided to hide it from me. I can even understand why my mother sold my sister like a common whore. It was for the good of the family." She spat, "What I can't understand is why she had to disinherit her."

"Your Highness, forgive my rudeness, but I think the late queen had no other choice." He said, his deep voice making her shiver, "Deep down your highness knows why the late queen had to disinherit lady Helena."

Because if my sister were still my heir, I wouldn't be the queen right now. I would be dead.

Yet, that didn't change anything. It was all her fault.

"Duncan, you can go." She whispered.

"My queen..."He leaned forward like he wanted to grab her arm, maybe even hug her, but she backed away.

"Duncan, please." She lowered her head, hiding her face as she fought back the tears, "I want to be alone."

Duncan flinched, "I understand, your Highness, but...there is one last thing."

"What is it?"

"It's your..." He hesitated, searching for the right words, "Childhood friend. Lady Elizabeth Summermer."

Ann stiffened, "Did...did something happen to her?"

"Not exactly..." Duncan averted his gaze, "it's just that...her father is looking for possible...candidates."

Ann squeezed her eyes shut, trying to take deep breaths, "She is about to marry." She mumbled, but Duncan heard her anyway.

"Yes, your highness." He sneaked a glance at her, "I...I only felt you should know."

"Yes, thank you, Duncan." She answered, but her voice was absent, her gaze vacant, "Go now. Please."

Duncan bowed and stood up, glancing at her one last time before leaving the room.

Only then Ann burst into tears.