Page 1 of The Reluctant Queen
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Hevva arrives at the inn.
“There’s a discussion onthe cooling properties of firebearing, isn’t that fantastic? No! I tricked you. It’s terrible because I can’t decide between that and the one on windshifting. Which would you pick?”
“Mhm, sounds great Kas.” Hevva was distracted by a pair of women in exquisite riding habits making their way down the thoroughfare. She was busy choosing her favorite of the two outfits and missed the entirety of her brother’s question.
“You don’t even want to be here,” he scolded, giving her shin a swift kick from his seat on the opposite bench.
“Do not kick me, Akkas Kahoth.” Hevva drew from the wood of the carriage floor and shackled her brother’s ankles to the bench so he couldn’t do it again. “If I didn’t want to chaperone you, you’d know.”
The scamp laughed, using his magic to send a puff of wind into Hevva’s face that left her sputtering.
“We’re here,” Aylin cut in as the vehicle rolled to a stop. Her maid’s tone held a note of reproach, hidden beneath laughter. It served to put the countess and her younger brother directly back in line, just in time to step out into polite company.
Lady Hevva Tilevir and Lord Kas Kahoth alighted from their carriage in front of the Elk & Heron. The immaculate multi-story inn wouldbe their home for the duration of the Symposium of Prodigious Minds. Rohilavol, the riverside town and host of the annual event, fizzed with anticipation. Carriages clogged the cobbled streets, men and women deep in conversation pushed past, some carrying luggage, some toting books. Hevva wasn’t exactly bubbling over with excitement for the academic compendium. She was there for her little brother, and because she quite liked the worldly town, and knew it would have some modern ideas to share.
As they approached the grand inn, with its ivy-clad walls and ornate wooden carvings that seemed to reach out and wave them welcome, Hevva nudged her brother with her elbow. “Excited?”
“Oh, yes!”
Aylin bustled past, hurrying ahead of the siblings to draw open the heavy door to the Elk & Heron.
“Thank you.” Hevva smiled. She stepped inside, eyes adjusting to the dim light. A long dark bar stretched the length of the wood and papered space, and from behind the near-end, the innkeeper smiled at them. A haze of energy buzzed around the many patrons who dotted the room’s tables and booths, sipping a variety of liquors and contrasting wines.
“Countess Kabuvirib, a pleasure to have you with us,” the innkeeper, a portly man with a welcoming smile, greeted them.
After exchanging pleasantries, they moved through the check-in process. They’d been given a space on the third floor, facing the quieter rear yard. Two beds were in the room for the young lord and lady, plus an attached chamber for Aylin. Hevva, with her usual air of grace, stepped forward to accept the key from the innkeeper. However, her composure wavered when the Baron of Turkhane entered the inn. He skulked up behind her and sidled close, far too close for her liking.
“LadyHevva,” Lord Nithim, the Baron of Turkhane, hacked out the H in her name though it was meant to be closer to silent. She did not miss the lecherous gleam in his eyes. “A vision as always. I must say, Rohilavol has never seen such beauty.”
Features tightening, Hevva managed a curt nod. “Turkhane,” she acknowledged. The man’s presence unnerved her, but she wouldn’t allowhim the satisfaction of seeing her squirm. “I am certain your claim will hold little water after you’ve sampled the delights the symposium has to offer.” She knew as well as anyone that half the events of the compendium would take place off schedule and after dark.
Behind her, her much younger brother chortled. That boy was too wise for his years.
“If you will excuse us, Lord Nithim, we need to retire. It’s beenexhausting.” Hevva popped in the word “exhausting” where one might say “a pleasure.” “The day, I mean,” she lied.
With that, their little trio ascended the stairs. The Elk & Heron spared no expense in providing their guests with opulent accommodations. She was happy to find that their space overlooked the yard and stables, as the innkeeper promised. Part of her wouldn’t have minded a view of the main street, but a larger part wanted to be able to sleep at night.
While Hevva hadn’t been to the symposium before and didn’t know quite what to expect, her younger brother’s endless prattling about the fantastical-sounding annual event eventually had an impact. When little Lord Kas convinced their father to let him go, it included one caveat: Hevva had to escort him.
She wasn’t dumb. She knew what was happening. Bearing down on twenty-five, she was stillunmarried, heir to the duchy of Stormhill, and already a countess in her own right. Many assumed the title of Kabuvirib was bestowed upon her as a courtesy and her father still ran the mining town behind the scenes. They were wrong. Hevva loved the leadership, the management, being among her people; both in Kabuvirib and at home in Stormhill.
That didn’t matter though.
Well, it did. It just wasn’t enough. She’d need to marry one day, shewantedto marry one day, and the duke—her father, though he typically donned his ducal hat for these types of conversations—insisted she do it sooner rather than later.
“You will accompany Kas to Rohilavol for the week.”
She’d nodded, happy to oblige her doe-eyed beggar of a brother in spite of his shenanigans. She hadn’t missed the way he’d swapped hisexaggerated pout for an expression of pure glee.
“Good,” her father replied. “It’s a great place to meet a nice, well-educated,commonyoung man.”
The flavor had been slightly different in that conversation, but the meat was the same as what he always tossed her way:Find a nice common boy.It’s what her grandmother did, and it worked out great. It’s not what her father had done.
Her parents did love each other very much. However, that wasn’t always the case. Their start was rocky, and while her mother, Lady Enrei Tilevir, wasn’t of noble birth, she was the daughter of a wealthy trader and used to a certain standard of living. Her mum’s extravagance strained her dad’s coffers until they found their footing.
Their rough start scarred the duke.Find a nice common boy.His mantra had its merits. She could find a nice common boy, someone without pretensions, someone very different from the stuck-up-his-own-arse Baron of Turkhane, and basically every other member of the peerage whom she’d met in her twenty-four years. Still, this wasn’t the time. Despite what her father may wish, she was here for one reason only. Well, two. First, to make sure her brother had a wonderful experience, and second, to explore the bustling town on her own.
