Page 24 of Warrior Princess
With a nod of approval, they reluctantly stepped aside, unlocking and opening the heavy doors to the queen’s quarters. The room bore the neglect that whispered of the king’s abandonment. A stale, musty odor permeated the air, the scent of illness and unattended quarters. The curtains were drawn, casting the room in a pallid, gloomy light that seemed to swallow all hope.
Queen Sariyah lay motionless on her four-poster bed. The linens were drawn up to her chin, her face ashen and her breathing shallow. Her once lustrous hair was tangled and unkempt, framing her face like a tangled web of despair. The room felt like a tomb, with stale air redolent with the burden of prolonged suffering.
I approached her bedside and hesitated a moment while I surveyed her frail form, wondering if my abilities could indeed bring her back from the brink of death. Mykal's words echoed in my mind. Her survival was not merely about her wellbeing, but it was crucial for stabilizing Keldara, especially with the lurking threat of loyalists who might still cling to the old king’s memory.
Gently, I reached for her hand, her skin cold and fragile under my touch. “Queen Sariyah,” I whispered, hoping my voice might rouse her. With firm resolve, I was ready to do whatever I could to help. Mykal and I had discussed the potential of usingmy blood to heal her, a prospect that seemed both daunting and vital.
As I prepared to administer my blood, I silently prayed it would be enough to revive her; to bring back not just her strength, but perhaps a semblance of peace to a kingdom that teetered on the edge of a knife. The future of Keldara might very well depend on what happened in this room over these next crucial moments.
With a deep breath to steady my nerves, I gently positioned Queen Sariyah's head to make her as comfortable as possible. Her breathing was faint, each breath a shallow whisper against the quietude of the chamber. Knowing the risks but also the potential of my abilities, I reached for the letter opener hidden within the folds of my dress and used it to make a small cut on my palm, the pain sharp but fleeting.
Carefully, I pressed my bleeding palm to Queen Sariyah's lips, tilting it so a few drops of my blood seeped into her mouth. The only sounds were our breaths – one quick and one faint – and the distant echoes of the palace settling around us. I watched her face intently, looking for any sign of improvement or reaction.
Minutes passed, each one stretching longer than the last. Just as I began to doubt the efficacy of my attempt, there was a subtle change. The queen’s chest rose with deeper breaths and her eyelids fluttered—a slight but unmistakable movement. Encouraged, I continued to hold my palm near her lips, allowing more of my blood to trickle into her mouth.
Gradually, Queen Sariyah's eyes opened, though they were clouded with confusion and weakness. She tried to speak, her voice a raspy whisper that barely stirred the air. “Wh-where...?” she murmured, her gaze flitting around the room, trying to piece together her surroundings.
“It's alright, you're safe,” I reassured softly, withdrawing my hand and wiping it on a cloth beside the bed. “My name is Leila. I'm a friend of Mykal’s.”
Queen Sariyah's eyes settled on me, a flicker of awareness crossing her features. “Leila...” she repeated, her voice gaining a sliver of strength but still laden with weariness. “Why...?”
“I’m here because Keldara has been through much turmoil, and your people need you,” I explained gently, monitoring her reactions to ensure I didn’t overwhelm her. “There has been a change in leadership, and I believe your presence could help stabilize the situation.”
She attempted to nod, her movements tentative and weak. “I feel... strange. What did you do?” Her eyes narrowed slightly—not in suspicion, but in an effort to understand her sudden shift from the brink of death.
“I used my blood to heal you,” I admitted, deciding that honesty was necessary to gain her trust. “It has properties that can heal, and I hoped it would help you recover.”
Queen Sariyah took a moment to process my words, her eyes searching mine for sincerity. I saw the moment when she realized... “Princess Lyanna,” she finally whispered in shock. “You’re the lost princess!” she gasped. “Thank you.” Her words carried genuine gratitude, but also the weight of her vulnerability.
“Of course.” I offered a small smile. “For now, rest is crucial for your recovery. We can discuss more when you feel stronger.”
She nodded weakly and closed her eyes again, this time in a natural rest rather than a forced torpor. As I stood by her side and watched her steady breathing, I felt a flicker of hope cautiously blossom. Her awakening was the first step towards a new dawn for Keldara, one that could bring healing not only to her frail body, but also to the entire fractured kingdom and eventually, the Crimson Clan.
The days passedwith a flurry of activity as the aftermath of the conflict in Keldara was addressed. Wounded soldiers and civilians required care, and the remaining members of the Crimson Clan who had been forced into servitude needed to be freed and repatriated. Shiro, with his formidable presence and unwavering determination, led the effort to guide them back to the Grasslands, ensuring their safe return.
Meanwhile, Mykal and Ronan were deep in negotiations, drafting treaties and forging agreements designed to foster peace and mutual prosperity between Keldara and the Grasslands. They worked tirelessly, their discussions often stretching into the late hours, surrounded by scrolls and parchments in the palace’s war room.
When at last they finalized the agreements, Mykal and Ronan stood and stretched, the burden of their responsibilities momentarily giving way to a sense of accomplishment.
“I guess this is it.” Mykal extended his hand to Ronan in a firm handshake. “Will the Crimson Clan be able to make their own weapons?”
Ronan nodded confidently. “Yes. We have many skilled blacksmiths in the Grasslands that we can put to work. Our primary need is for war horses, which you will continue to supply in exchange for crops.”
“I appreciate your cooperation,” Mykal responded with a nod, a trace of relief visible in his expression.
“Will you be okay after all …this?” Ronan asked, his tone shifting to concern. “You haven't rooted out all the loyalists yet. You could be on the brink of a civil war.”
Mykal exhaled heavily, the reality of his situation settling back over him. “I know. But for now, this is all we can do.”
“Well, if you need any help, don’t hesitate to reach out to us,” Ronan offered. His gaze shifted to me as he intertwined his fingers with mine, a silent gesture of support.
“That is much appreciated, but I think it’s best if we handle our matters internally.” Mykal’s eyes briefly met mine. “I am truly sorry, Leila. I owe you a life debt.”
He didn’t mention his mother, and I assumed he wished to keep my role in her healing private. I shook my head gently. “You don’t owe me anything, Mykal. Just take good care of the queen and, of course, yourself. I’m sure this won’t be the last time our paths cross.”
He managed a wry smile. “No, I don’t think it will be.”
With final goodbyes exchanged, Ronan and I began our journey back to the Grasslands, accompanied by the remaining members of the Crimson Clan’s forces. The horizon stretched before us was painted with the soft hues of dawn—an earthly symbol of new beginnings. The instant we crossed the threshold of Keldara’s borders, I felt an overwhelming sense of relief. The path ahead would undoubtedly hold new challenges, but for now, the weight of recent events began to lift and allowed hope to take its place.
