#sylvae

Sol didn’t get right down to business though. Instead, as he cut into his steak, he asked: 

“Did you enjoy the painter’s work?”

Anaria and Sol had been able to view what the painter had had of the portrait before he left. He was almost finished with it after working all day, though there were parts of Anaria’s face that were unfinished. 

“I did,” Anaria responded, still wondering what her father really wanted to speak with her about. Both she and her father had looked regal in the piece, but close, bonded. It was a good rendition of how they really could be… If her father didn’t avoid talking to her.

“Good.” Sol chewed thoughtfully, as if pondering his words. Anaria was on the edge of her seat with anticipation, barely touching her food. 

“I do not know when the portrait will be finished,” he finally said. “As I have business in Shimmerfort.”

Anaria furrowed her brow. “Isn’t Shimmerfort abandoned?” She knew her geography. Shimmerfort was a fort on the northern edge of Nessar bordering Aborsken. Well, it was more straddling the line between the two kingdoms. Why would her father be going there? 

“For the moment,” Sol said. “But I have been in correspondence with the King of Aborsken, and—”

“You’ve been in contact with humans?” Anaria asked incredulously. She hadn’t meant to interrupt, but she was shocked upon hearing this news. Why hadn’t her father told her of this sooner? 

“We’ve had peaceful years with them,” Sol answered coolly. “At least, with the ones from Aborsken.”

Anaria just nodded. She sipped at her wine, but made a face and reached for her water. She needed something to cool off with.

“I would like to propose a treaty with them,” Sol continued. “There have been reports of trouble stirring in Esken, of armed groups making it past our borders.”

Anaria hadn’t known that. Her mouth felt a little dry, and so she drank more water. Maybe she really should have Sylvae with her on her outings from the palace. 

“Have there been any… altercations?” Anaria questioned. She was upset that her father had seemingly been keeping all this to himself. She was the princess and heir to the throne for gods’ sakes! Shouldn’t she know about all this?

“A few,” Sol told her. “We still have no idea what their motivations are, but we’ve had peace with Aborsken for years. I thought meeting with their king would be a good idea.”

Anaria tried to remember her lessons. Esken had been a part of Aborsken once, before a civil war decades ago had torn the country in two. They both bordered the north of Nessar. A queen whose name Anaria could not recall ruled Esken, while Dyon Ravenhelm was the current king of Aborsken. He was around the same age as her father, which might make negotiations easier. The Nessari lived much longer lives than humans, and she knew that humans resented them for that. 

“Why are you only telling me of this now, on the eve of your travels?” Anaria asked. She was unable to keep a biting tone out of her voice. 

Sol sighed, looked down at his plate. “I meant to tell you. I… suppose I didn’t want to frighten you. Peace is all you’ve ever known. I did not want to disrupt that.”

“Keeping me in the dark doesn’t help,” Anaria snapped. “I’m your heir. You should have told me.” 

Sol put down his silverware, rubbed his face with one hand, then reached for his goblet. After a long drink in which Anaria was left bristling in the silence, he said: “I should have.” 

“I’m not a child.”

“I know.” 

“Then don’t treat me like one!” Anaria cried indignantly. 

Sol pinched at the bridge of his nose. “Look, I am sorry, Anaria.” He finally met her gaze. “I will keep you informed on my travels, alright?”

Anaria wanted to continue to vent her anger, but instead bit her tongue and nodded. 

“If you would like to be caught up with everything, there is one more thing you must know.” Sol’s voice sounded grave, serious.

“Oh?” Anaria asked, trying to—if not remain calm, at least sound that way. 

“King Dyon and I have been sending letters,” Sol began. “We think the best way to ensure a treaty and peace between our kingdoms would be a marriage.”

Anaria was struck with disgust. “I am not marrying someone your age.”

“No, you won’t be. He has a son: Girad.”

“I…” Anaria trailed off, completely unsure of what to say. She’d known her whole life that marriage would not be something of love for her, but something arranged. It was a duty she had to her kingdom. But to marry a human? She’d thought she’d be marrying one of the Nessari lords or their sons. She’d never even met a human before!

“I know it’s not what you wanted,” Sol said, easily reading her. “I’m sorry.”

Anaria wanted to snap at her father that apologies didn’t matter right now, but instead she abruptly stood from the table. Her dinner was half finished, and she was still hungry, but she could bear this conversation no longer. 

“Anaria—”

She left the room in long strides, and found Sylvae outside the door, waiting for her. She just waved her hand at her to follow, teeth clenched. She didn’t want to take out her anger on her friend and bodyguard. Sylvae silently fell into step beside her.

“I suppose dinner didn’t go well,” Sylvae assumed after some time in which the silence grew uncomfortable and the tension had to break. 

“No, it didn’t,” Anaria said. She stopped for a moment, raised her eyebrows suspiciously at Sylvae. “Did you know of what has been transpiring with the humans?” 

“I did, princess,” Sylvae answered honestly.

“So no one thought to tell me?!” Anaria cried, throwing out her arms, spreading her wings. She didn’t care who passed by and heard her. “I’m an adult! I have been an adult! And yet you coddle me like my father like you’re so much older than me!”

Sylvae merely looked down at her feet, shame radiating off of her, wings tucked in close to her back. 

“My apologies, princess.” 

Anaria huffed. “An apology will not do for now, Sylvae.” She stormed off, and Sylvae made to follow, as was her duty, but Anaria stopped her with a raised hand. She could make it back to her chambers on her own. 

She’d completely forgotten about the pain in her feet.

---

After ordering dessert to be brought to her chambers and eating in simmering silence, Anaria summoned Hali. She was worried, already beginning to feel anger. What if Hali had known about all this and hadn’t told her either? What if everyone had known but her?

Hali’s smile fell when she noticed Anaria’s mood. She folded her hands in front of her, stepped towards her chair, her wings fluttering nervously.

“Yes, princess?” 

“You don’t happen to know anything about the current happenings of Aborsken, do you?” Anaria asked, tone short and a little harsh. 

Hali cocked her head. “No. Why?”

Tension left Anaria’s shoulders and she found herself able to arrange her wings a little more comfortably against her back. 

“My father has been keeping secrets,” Anaria responded. She gestured for Hali to sit across the low table from her. 

They were in her living quarters, the space cool after the heat of the day, torches lit to bring light. Anaria could summon lights herself, but that would just be a waste of energy when torches worked just fine. 

Hali came and sat across from Anaria, arranging her skirts, probably guessing she would be here for some time. Anaria was flattered by her attention, honestly. Yes, Hali was her lady in waiting, but that didn’t mean she had to be friends with her. 

But, Hali was, and so she listened to Anaria’s whole story. A frown grew on her face once it started, and then only deepened as Anaria continued. 

“He wants you to marry a human?” Hali asked, sharing Anaria’s incredulity. 

Anaria nodded, wiping some of her hair away from her face. She realized now that there would be a language barrier. She knew a good deal of Aborskenian, but would her future fiancé know Nessar? 

But that wasn’t what upset her most. What upset her was that her father had sprung this on her without even discussing it with her first. He’d had plans to go along with the marriage without her say-so. 

“Can… Nessari and humans even have children together?” Hali asked tentatively.

So many angles! That was another problem Anaria hadn’t thought about!

“I don’t know.” Anaria shook her head. Gods, she felt so helpless suddenly. Trapped. She was stuck in this position as a princess having to do the greater good for her country. 

She put her head in her hands, letting her hair fall around her face. She inhaled deeply, then looked at Hali. She didn’t want to just talk about herself, fearing that she would only annoy her. 

“How was your day?”

Hali shrugged one shoulder. “Hardly as interesting as yours.”

Anaria laughed. “Hali, I was standing in the same position for hours. Mine was hardly interesting till the end.” She leaned back in her chair and kicked off her shoes, something she should have done a while ago. She sighed at the release of the pressure on her feet. She’d like to get out of her dress too, something she would need some help with. 

“Well, I did have to fend off a man asking for you.”

“Oh?” Now Anaria was interested. Celibacy was not a thing Nessari really worried about, though she’d read about different human cultures finding importance in such things. Would Girad be like that? (That was the name of the Aborskenian prince, right?)

“I believe his name was Ruven,” Hali said, sounding a little unsure. “I was too busy avoiding questions to quite catch it.” 

“Where did you run into him?”

Hali waved a hand. “Out in the courtyard. He looked to be a gardener, actually.”

Anaria laughed. “And why did you have to fend him off?”

“You wouldn’t have liked his nose,” Hali said with a giggle. 

“Well, you do know my taste,” Anaria said, trusting Hali. “Now, the important question is, did you find him attractive?” 

“Erm… Not really.”

Hali had been in so few relationships that Anaria could count them on one hand, while she herself was alright with being labeled as promiscuous. 

“Alright.” Anaria decided not to push her. “I am probably seeing my father off tomorrow, but after that, would you like to help in my garden?” 

“I actually have lessons tomorrow.”

Anaria felt a little crestfallen. She liked when Hali helped her in her garden. Really, Anaria could have had the royal gardeners watch over her own little courtyard, but she wanted to do it herself. Where would the satisfaction of growing something be if it wasn’t actually her doing it?

“What lessons?” Anaria asked, letting herself sound disappointed. She was interested in what Hali was pursuing though. 

“Healing,” Hali said. She was arranging herself more comfortably in her cushioned chair. “Anika said she would teach me.”

Anaria nodded. “No one better to learn from.” Anika had tried teaching Anaria healing magic many a time, but she’d never caught on to it, had never really wanted to. As far as magic was concerned, she was more interested in its capabilities for battle and every day use. Healing just seemed so trivial and boring to her. 

“You should come with me.”

Anaria sighed. “Maybe I should.” It wasn’t a bad idea, considering what was happening with Esken. 

The room grew gloomy. Anaria realized that the times of peace she’d lived in her whole life might be coming to an abrupt end. Hali must have been realizing it too; Anaria guessed by the way she picked at her skirts and tightened her wings against her back. 

“Perhaps we should retire,” Hali said. She looked out towards the large glass-paned window behind her. The moon had risen high while they’d been talking, shining its copper light down upon the white stone of the palace. It looked like a good night for a flight, but Hali was right, and Anaria was tired from all the politics.