Page 16 of Warrior Princess
“Why the rush?” King Eduard countered, his voice smooth but carrying a note of challenge. “I would love to hear from the princess how she found herself embroiled amongst the Crimson Clan.”
Placing a reassuring hand on Mykal’s tense shoulder, I gently stopped him from escalating the conversation. “Of course, Your Majesty.” I stepped around Mykal to address the king directly. “It’s quite the tale, if I do say so myself.”
His expression shifted to one of amusement. A slight grin played at his lips as he snapped his fingers toward Diane, who had been lingering awkwardly behind us. I had almost forgotten her presence.
“You!” he called out sharply. “Bring the princess a chair.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Diane responded quickly before hurrying out of the throne room.
As we waited in silence, I tried not to fidget as the king studied me, his curiosity barely contained. Mykal stood resolutely beside me, his body coiled with anticipation.
Diane returned, struggling with a chair that seemed too heavy for her slight frame. Mykal quickly went to assist her, then brought the chair over to me with a nod of thanks in her direction.
“Please.” King Eduard gestured for me to sit. As I settled into the chair, he leaned forward, his eyes fixed on me. “Now tell me, Your Highness. You have my undivided attention.”
I made myself comfortable and began to recount my story. I told him of my hidden life in the Central Plains under the guise of Leila the healer, of my first encounter with Ronan, and my subsequent meetings with Mykal and Caelan. I wove anarrative that traced my path back to Valoria and then to the Grasslands, carefully omitting sensitive details such as Mykal's manipulations, Caelan's hurtful actions, and the depth of my relationship with Ronan. My tale was sanitized, a version that retained intrigue without giving away any leverage.
“Interesting, interesting,” the king mused thoughtfully after I finished. “So you can heal just about anything with your blood?” His brow was raised in open curiosity.
I nodded cautiously. “Yes, I can. Although it doesn’t heal all poisons, unfortunately.”
He hummed, and his gaze became pensive. “From what Mykal told me, you assisted the Crimson Clan in reviving the demon fox. Is that correct?”
I nodded again, more slowly this time, realizing that Mykal had shared more than I expected. I almost felt silly sitting there thinking the king didn’t know every single detail of my life. “Yes,” I admitted, not daring to look at Mykal, wondering just how much he had revealed.
“You’ve had quite an adventure, Princess,” King Eduard remarked with a sly smirk. “My son also mentioned you’re here to... broker peace?”
“Yes,” I affirmed confidently. “The Crimson Clan is no longer the weak nation it once was. With the revival of the demon fox, they have regained their ancestral power and no longer wish to keep their people enslaved. I’m sure you can understand.”
He snorted lightly. “Of course, Princess. But this agreement was written before my time. I’m sureyoucan understand that unraveling it is not as easy as it seems.”
“Of course,” I agreed, ready to negotiate. “Which is why I’d like to discuss an alternative. I’m sure the Crimson Clan can provide something besides tributes that Keldara would value just as much.”
The king's amusement was evident in his hearty chuckle. His laughter resonated throughout the throne room, echoing off the high stone walls and vaulted ceiling. “Goodness, you're precious! Darling, what could the Crimson Clanpossiblyoffer Keldara?” His tone was patronizing, and his laughter felt like a dismissal.
I bristled at his condescension, but I masked my irritation with a composed smile, though every fiber of my being wanted to glare defiantly. “The Crimson Clan lives off the land,” I began, my voice steady and clear. “From what I have observed of Keldara, your lands are not very… fertile. It's cold here in the north; I'm sure it's not easy to grow crops.”
His laughter abruptly ceased and his face lost its mirth, as if I had touched upon a sensitive truth he preferred to keep hidden. “What are you insinuating, Princess?” he asked, his tone sharp, his teeth gritted.
Undeterred by his growing discomfort, I continued. “The winters are harsh here, especially given the length of the season. I'm sure you don’t want your people to suffer unnecessarily.” My voice carried a subtle challenge, one I hoped would strike the right chord.
King Eduard's eyes narrowed, and a calculating look overtook his features as he rubbed his fingers thoughtfully over his lips. Silence stretched between us. Mykal shifted uneasily beside me but I remained seated, rigid and resolute. I remembered Mykal's advice—King Eduard respected strength.
“Father—” Mykal started, but with a swift raise of his hand, the king silenced him.
Eduard’s intense gaze never left mine. “Unfortunately, Your Highness, we're providing the Crimson Clan with war horses and weapons. That's a lot in exchange for some measly crops,” he retorted.
“Measly crops?” I echoed, standing abruptly. The feeling of inferiority as he loomed above me from his dais was unbearable.“You must be mistaken, Your Majesty. Food to sustain your people would surely be valued much higher than instruments of war, don't you agree?”
His expression shifted and a flicker of curiosity—or was it suspicion?—crossed his features as his gaze darted momentarily to Mykal. “As an outsider, you seem to know a lot about Keldara,” he murmured.
Laughing softly, I shook my head. “You misunderstand, Your Majesty. Mykal hasn't told me anything.” I took a step toward him, slightly closing the distance between us. “You forget I'm Valorian, which means we're neighbors. We also endure long, harsh winters. Fortunately, we have a deal with the kingdom of Eldwain to provide us with extra crops during those times, which ensures our people are never hungry.”
I didn't mention that Diane, who was nearly hidden behind a column, had revealed more than any words could. Her gaunt appearance spoke volumes of the hardship here. Cloaked in skin and bones, she likely wasn’t the only one suffering.
“Ah, correct,” the king muttered. His tone softened slightly as he touched his forehead, referencing the crescent moon birthmark that was a symbol of my heritage. “Well, then.” He sighed heavily and rose from his throne with an air of resignation. “I don't believe we'll come to a consensus tonight. Mykal, why don't you escort the Princess to her bedroom?”
Without waiting for a response, King Eduard stepped down from the dais and exited the throne room, his regal robes trailing behind him, leaving us to absorb the aftermath of the confrontation in the silence of the empty hall.
