Himika

Time seems to fly so fast when you’re an adult, I thought.

Before I knew it, I was carrying my children into the palace of Irandal, and all the dragons of the court who had stayed behind were waiting for us. They had already traveled here from Hemara, to make this our permanent home. Soldiers reunited with family members, while a few were left to mourn the fallen, but not as many as we had once feared.

When we left, Vorja was a baby and now he was a toddler. I knew Aurek was protective of the mist dragon boy who had been cruelly blinded by Izeria just to trick him into allowing the mist dragons into the castle. He gave Vorja a parcel and a moment later I saw him helping him with the buttons of a soft new coat.

“Don’t you look handsome!” the nurse said.

“And it has a hood,” Aurek said. “See? Covers your head in damp caves.”

Vorja spent the rest of the night taking the hood on and off. The rock dragon children found it exciting to watch, like peekaboo, and soon Vorja realized he could get them all interested in him if he showed off this feature.

“Aurek, did you just teach that kid to preen?” I couldn’t stop laughing.

Of course, the feasting and celebration that met our arrival was likely to be written in the history books. It was almost a year since we had left the dragon kingdom by the time we were able to make the journey home. We came with a caravan of cloth and books and food and so many other trade goods and gifts that it was like a holiday. The northern passages were large enough even for horses to travel between the kingdoms. So I even had my own horse for good.

The babies were given a blessing before the court, their faces smeared with sparkling crystal dust as they protested with screams. “I now present to the court, Sorekdel, son of Seron and Aurekdel, and Oranu, daughter of Ezeru.”

Sorek was obviously Seron’s—the resemblance in the nose and mouth was more apparent by the day—but it was at Seron’s insistence that he was written in the history books with two fathers. Oranu was given a rock dragon name with a nod to the blood of her high dragon ancestor, Orvenu.

“I’m surprised you didn’t name her after your mother,” Oszin said. “Isn’t that what your family usually does?”

I sighed. “What is your mother’s name?”

“Remia.”

“That’s very pretty. I like that.”

“It means ‘rice farmer’ in Kamiri.”

“It does not! You’re messing with me.”

“It really does. My name means ‘beekeeper’. All Kamiri names are jobs.”

“Your name means ‘beekeeper’? What! Where are your bees?”

“I suppose I was a disappointment,” he said.

“Remia is still pretty. And…you know your mother. Do you want to invite your family here?”

“I think they’re too old to get used to this food.”

“Me too. Thank goodness for imports. Well, maybe we could visit when the twins are older.”

The feast was very entertaining; we had brought a chef from Capamere to train the dragons in the kitchens in preparing our foods. The people didn’t know what to make of the pastries from the north, the cured sausage of Capamere, the fermented bean sauce of Gaermon or the dried mangos of Kamiri. Some went over better than others. I saw a small child diligently licking the sausage meat out of the casing and then throwing the casing on the floor for a cat to make off with.

Cuttings from my garden had been brought to the rooftop of Irandal, and I already knew what would keep me busy when I wasn’t handling the duties of motherhood and royalty.

It was good to be home.

However, ruling a kingdom is never without troubles, and the centuries of hatred between the mist dragons and high dragons didn’t always go easily. The high dragons didn’t trust the mist dragons to live near them; the mist dragons kept to themselves in Gemuru palace. Seron was always the first to volunteer to travel to other parts of the realm to settle these disputes. The rock dragons took jobs in quarries, workshops, and as guards and servants, but they were easily exploited and Ezeru had to be swift and harsh in protecting them from greedy high dragons. Aurekdel and the advisors gave us both instruction in writing laws, which quickly got Oszin volunteering information about labor laws and elections overseas, and before I knew it I was catching him reading his pamphlets to Aurek.

I pretended not to notice this was happening. I didn’t want to fight with Oszin and Aurekdel both, but…that stuff was dangerous. We don’t need to be giving people ideas about getting rid of kings and queens!

Meanwhile, a lot of the people who considered social graces and lawmaking the province of a king still privately referred to ‘King Aurek’ and whispered that he was robbed of his crown.

Others wanted a warrior king and backed Seron.

No matter how well Seron and Aurekdel got along, some conflict remained.

One day I rode to the village with Ora on my back and Hara accompanying me, to do a little shopping. Trade was booming and the shops were full of goods from home that came in a steady stream. I was at the cloth vendor’s stall trying to choose between red reeds embroidered on pale blue or storks embroidered on pale green when a brawl came bursting out of a nearby tavern.

Hara rushed in front of me, drawing a sword, while I took out my knife for good measure.

The men were shouting expletives at each other. The cloth vendor looked uncomfortable. “You should go, my lady. These fights have been happening a lot lately.”

“About what?”

He paused. “Oh, I don’t know. A woman, probably.”

But I could tell from his face that wasn’t it. “You don’t need to protect me, Mr. Kandal. I want to know what’s going on in my own village.”

“It figures you would say that when your king isn’t a fighter either!” one of the men shouted.

“Well, your king is always leaving; he doesn’t care what happens in this town!”

Oh, I don’t believe this. “Excuse me!” I shouted. Ora started screaming her face off. I handed her to Hara.

They all froze when they saw me. “Your Majesty—we didn’t see you there.”

“Are you actually brawling over Lord Aurekdel and King Seron? You should all be ashamed of yourselves. They share their duties.”

“Mm…” The guy backing Aurekdel looked a little upset. “But, Seron wears the crown.”

“Seron has the blood of kings. It’s just a crown,” I said.

“It’s not just a crown.”

“It’s the crown of his ancestors.”

“But he ruled for almost thirty years and now he’s been relegated to—”

“Seron did all the work anyway,” the other guy put in.

“No, no, they’ve always done the work together!” I said.

“Are you arguing with the queen?” Hara said, in between trying to calm down my screaming child.

At this point, some guards came around to break it up, threatening the men with jail if they didn’t calm down.

I came home still shaking over it. “We can’t have this,” I told my mates. “People are arguing about the two of you, and it’s ridiculous. We need to—I don’t know—decree something. And dragons all need a lesson in manners. In Gaermon they would all have prostrated themselves the moment they realized the queen was standing in front of them, but that bunch of ruffians just kept on squabbling about it right to me! We need some tighter laws on slander.”

“This is a very delicate balance,” Aurek said. “But the crown means something to people. To some people, the tradition and bloodline are very important.”

“But generally Aurek’s rule has been known for greater freedom and equality,” Seron said. “Some people don’t see why I should have the crown just because of my bloodline. And I can’t say I disagree.”

“Can’t we just make a second crown?” I said. “You both rule together.”

Seron glanced at Oszin, who gave this knowing shrug. I knew exactly what his face was saying. I told you she’d react like this.

“I’m pretty interested in trying out an election,” Seron said. “I don’t really like the idea of Sorek having to be king when I’m gone. He might like to do something else. He’s clearly a healer dragon. Maybe that will be a great quality for a king someday. But he also might be shy and hate parties.”

“You’ve gotten a lot better with speeches,” I said, since he was obviously talking about himself. “It just takes practice.”

“Yeah, but when I travel I don’t have to make any speeches, or go to any parties, and I like that so much better, except that I have to leave my family behind.”

“A lot of our people do feel safer with a warrior king,” Aurekdel said. “Let’s not dismiss that. I don’t feel comfortable taking the throne from Seron when it isn’t my birthright.”

“So that’s why we want the people to decide,” Seron said.

“It’s not going to fix this problem,” I said. “Whoever wins, the loser will be angry. And if Sorek wants to be king someday, he’ll have to fight for it.”

“I think he should fight for it,” Aurek said. “Every king has to fight for it to some degree. Only, under the old law, overthrowing them is a lot messier. If I hadn’t worked hard to prove myself and win favor, I might have been murdered.”

“There is another reason for an election,” Seron said. “The mist dragons can be allowed to vote. There definitely aren’t enough of them to vote in one of their own. But they will be included.”

“Well…how do we have an election? It sounds like a lot of work.”

“We have a registry of dragons,” Aurekdel said.

“We would appoint election officers to every region and invite everyone to come and vote for their choice within a certain timeframe,” Oszin said. “Their names will be checked against the registry and all the ballots will be brought back to Irandal and counted by a neutral committee. It’ll take some time to set it all up. Probably through the year.”

“But we can announce it now and calm everyone down a little,” Aurek said.

“Or inflame them even more!” I said.

“Moth, do you trust me?” Oszin said.

He looked so excited. “Er…”

“I want to tell you a story, and don’t judge me, because I was a kid,” he said. “When I first signed up to apprentice for the military, I vowed to bring down your family for enslaving my people. I changed my mind almost from the first moment I saw your brother, because he was so forthright and fair. And when I met you…well, all my dreams were out the window, and replaced by you instead. I would have happily died for you. Still would. But…we all know what a bad king can do. All of us. When I first read about a different kind of government…like a tribal election for a whole country…I never thought it could happen. But the idea of a peasant like me being able to choose who rules over me is something we’ve never known in this world. Of course, I will still choose you. I would always choose you. Like your brother, you are forthright and fair. Kind and compassionate. But don’t you like to choose your masters?”

I understood, then. I had been a very lucky woman, to be ‘forced’ into marriage with Aurekdel.

It was almost Leonidas. It was almost the man whose army killed my father, the man who put his mouth on my breast and told me he needed it. He got me all the way to the altar before I was saved, before I had a chance to fight for myself.

I was helpless once. We all needed each other to stand up sometimes.

I took Oszin’s hands.

“Okay,” I said. “I will trust you.”