“You look lovely,” Alric said, and then bent down to kiss her bare shoulder. She watched her reflection as she brushed her hair down and tied the front back into a long braid.
“You said just tonight.”
“Yes, I just ask that you dress up tonight. It’s very important that we smooth things over with the elves, and they are vain and put high regards into beauty.”
She frowned, and that small gesture made him laugh.
“Meet me down there when you’re done, ok?” Alric asked. “They’re here and I need to greet them.”
“Sure, will be down in a second,” she told him, and then stood up and smoothed down the long black dress. When the tailors came to make her a formal dress for the dinner, she had agreed to embellishments as long as the dress was black and the embellishments were silver, and not gold. Of course, she also specified a high collar, but this dress had a plunging neckline that she couldn’t seem to tug up any higher. After slipping on the sling for her arm, she looked in the mirror and grimaced.
Contrary to what she’d promised Alric, she then hiked her dress up and tied her flail to her thigh. The tailors were thrilled when she asked for a full skirt with many layers, but only because they didn’t realize that she was using it to stash weapons. If Creteloc had ingrained anything into Kyrin’s subconscious, it was the need to always have a weapon.
Once she was sure nothing else could be done to lessen the femininity of what she was wearing, she sighed and walked out of her room. The Lady’s quarters were on the 5th floor of a seven floor castle, and shared the floor with a bunch of empty rooms. She’d never bothered to ask what they were for, but she did like the privacy.
The ante-chamber with the soft couches and fire place was where men were to visit, or so she was told by Alric. It wasn’t proper for any man to walk past the ante-chamber, and she wasn’t quite sure why. Any time he visited her, he dutifully stayed in that room though, as did any Knights or even Trox.
The floor was empty, as usual, when she stepped out. She carried her dress, so she didn’t step on it but would have to drop it as soon as she got to the stairs. The tailors had dropped off a delicate pair of black shoes that she was sure would fall apart if she had to run through a forest, so she’d replaced them with her boots of speed. She just had to keep them covered during dinner.
Just as she started out of the main hallway and toward the stairs, a slight movement in the shadows two floors down caught her attention. She immediately backed up to the wall and then crouched low and peered around the corner to watch. Her hand hung inches above her flail as her eyes narrowed, and she studied the corner.
She saw another movement. Someone was hiding in the shadows of the castle. None of the Knights could hide like that. It took one skilled in stealth to do. Kyrin studied them for a moment, trying to decide if she should go attack them with her flail, or just cast at them from where she stood.
Trox and Alric started down the stairs from the top floor. They had a quick discussion about what to tell the elves, and had fallen silent as they walked toward the ballroom. They both stopped when they saw Kyrin hunkered low against a wall and watching something below her.
Alric chuckled to himself at the un-ladylike way she squatted and how she didn’t care that her hair was piled below her on the floor.
Trox’s eyebrows rose as he watched her, and he couldn’t help but smile. Both Alric and Trox saw her flail though. The way she was positioned, her skirts were tight against her right leg and the visible outline of the flail was discernible.
After a few seconds, when she didn’t notice them, Alric cleared his throat. Kyrin jumped to her feet and spun to face them. She couldn’t help but look startled, and she chastised herself for not knowing she was being watched.
“Is there a problem?” Alric asked.
She nodded and motioned him forward with the bend of a finger. He moved closer to her and bent down so she could whisper into his ear, “There’s a rogue hiding in the shadows on the 3rd floor.”
When he started to look around the corner to see for himself, she pulled him back by the collar of his dress tunic, and Trox had to stifle a laugh.
“Don’t look!” she whispered.
“I don’t thi…” Kyrin stopped his words with a hand to his mouth.
“Shhh”
When she reached to grab her flail, he took her wrist, “It’s not a rogue.”
“Would you keep your voice down?” she whispered harshly.
He grinned, “No, I won’t. The elves have protection around the castle for their King. Each floor has a guard posted, and the elves are trying not to be too visible.”
“I don’t like it.”
“Flail,” he said, and she looked over and saw he was holding his hand out.
“But…”
“No weapons. This is a peaceful dinner.”
“But…”
“Flail,” he said again. Trox watched them and was surprised how calm Alric was staying with her. He’d ordered no weapons in the ballroom, and his orders were always followed.
“Alric”
“Kyrin, no. Hand it over.”
She hesitated and then hiked her skirt up to remove the flail. Trox spun when her bare leg came into view and Alric just shook his head and held his hand out.
Kyrin handed the flail over. She wasn’t happy about being without a melee weapon, but she knew she always had magic to fight with if they decided to attack.
Alric disappeared into her room and came back out without the weapon. He walked up to where she was standing, took her wrists in his hands to keep her hands apart, and then kissed her softly.
She was frowning at him when he pulled away from her, “Stop holding my hands.”
“Not until I feel like you aren’t going to turn me into a basilisk.”
She huffed slightly, so he took her hand, and they started down the stairs, followed by Trox. The ballroom was full of Valharan dignitaries and a handful of elves. The elves were all wearing gold and platinum shimmery clothing that was almost surreal. Their beauty was beyond anything else in the room, something common for the royal elves in any dimension. Most were taller and thinner than the bulky Valharan Knights.
The elven king, Auldian, saw them coming and stood up from his chair by the table and smiled at Kyrin. Her skin crawled. She didn’t like, nor did she trust, the royal elves, and she wished they had an alliance with the shadow elves instead.
“It’s so nice of you to join us,” Auldian said with a slight bow. He took her hand and kissed it gently, and she couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose slightly.
Alric saw the conflict and interrupted, “Shall we have a seat?”
Kyrin had never seen this much food. The long tables were heavily laden with every kind of meat available in the Kingdom, along with thick gravies, stew, breads and muffins, baked apples, and too many vegetables to count. Each guest had a tall glass of clear water and wine.
She’d decided not to eat anything she couldn’t eat properly with her hands, so she grabbed a roll and sat back to endure the endless talk of the Minotaur attack, though she noticed no one mentioned her magic to get rid of them.
When the dinner was over, Kyrin started to stand, but Alric stopped her, “It’s time for dessert.”
She cringed, wondering what that meant. She didn’t know if she could handle another long meeting or any type of entertainment. Servants began to stream into the room carrying large trays of what looked to her to be brown towers. Each table had at least five of them, and then dainty plates were passed around.
Not sure what to do, Kyrin watched the others as they cut a piece and put it on their plate. Once everyone was served, although Alric had to serve Kyrin because she wasn’t about to try the brown lump, they all settled down to eat.
“Not going to try it?” Alric asked when he saw her not eating the cake.
“What is it?” she asked, poking her finger into the thick frosting.
“Cake, try it.”
“No thank you.”
“Cake is sweet. We eat it after dinner.”
“Why? Aren’t you full?”
“We’re never too full for cake,” Trox told her before taking a large bite.
She looked down at it. She was still hungry, having just had a roll, but the brown mass didn’t look appealing at all.
Alric laughed, “Just take a bite.”
Another reason not to eat cake, it required the use of a fork. She was getting better at it but was afraid she’d spill it down her front, and everyone seemed to be watching her at the moment.
“I really don’t want to.”
“Afraid?”
Kyrin looked up at him with a scrutinizing gaze, “No.”
“Then try it.” Alric was having fun with this. He thought if she would try it, she would like it. The castle Baker was famous for his chocolate cake.
She hesitantly picked up the fork and put the tiniest crumb of cake onto it, then looked up at Alric before bringing it to her lips. The texture alone made her want to gag. It was like heavy bread, but the sweetness made her teeth hurt, and she put her fork down immediately.
“You don’t like it?” Alric asked, shocked.
“No, I don’t.”
He laughed and called out for a servant. He whispered to the servant, who then ran out of the room. She wondered where he went, but he returned a few minutes later with a large apple in his hand. She smiled and took it, much happier with it than with the disgusting sweetness of cake.
As she ate, she watched the interactions of the elves and the humans. Both kept complimenting the chef on the cake, but just the thought of its sweetness made her sick. Once everyone was done eating, Alric put out his hand, and she took it and followed him into a large room with one round table in the middle.
Alric and Kyrin sat down, followed by six high-ranking Valharan officials, and then the elves.
Once seated, Auldian addressed Kyrin, “After the disturbances,I asked Sithias what happened, and he directed me to you.”
Alric nodded, “You could say it was my fault…”
“Or my fault,” Kyrin added.
“How is it your fault?” Auldian asked her.
“The gods were fighting because I’m here.”
He smiled, “Why would they care?”
“That’s not important,” Alric said just as Kyrin started to let the elves know why. He knew she wasn’t embarrassed about being an evil and didn’t much hide it, but he also knew that the elves wouldn’t be happy if Valhara had allowed an evil to live with them.
“I think it is,” Auldian said. “Our Kingdom took damage too.”
“I understand that. All we can really say is that it was another god fight.”
Auldian sighed, “Did Erianah attack?”
“Yes, and Sithias wasn’t going to allow it.”
“And they fought over the girl?”
“Yes”
“Again, why?”
Alric studied him and then spoke, “She’s a magic user.”
Auldian leaned his head back and laughed.
Kyrin frowned, “What?”
“There is no magic anymore. You’re just too young to remember it.”
“Yes there is.”
“Prove it,” he said, on the verge of grinning.
“Let’s not,” Alric told him. “I’ve seen mostly offensive spells from her, and I don’t wish for tonight to turn into a battle.”
“You cannot simply… I don’t know, disappear or make the table levitate?” Auldian asked her.
“Why would I want to do that?”
“To prove it to us.”
“No”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to.”
“Or because it wouldn’t work and prove that Alric is lying.”
“I’m not lying,” Alric said angrily. “I am insulted that you think I would lie.”
“Magic, from this young one? The entire idea is preposterous. Now tell us the truth about why the gods fought over her.”
Alric turned to Kyrin, “Can you just do something little? Like maybe blow up a vase?”
“I don’t have to prove myself to anyone.”
“For me?”
“No”
He grinned, “Come on, please.”
Kyrin stood up, “I’m done here.”
“Sit, please,” Trox said. “A demonstration would help out immensely.”
“What stake do I have in this? I mean, what do I care if the elves and humans are friends?”
“It keeps us at peace,” Alric explained.
She shrugged, “Let them break off the peace and when they attack, they’ll get their fair share of magic.”
Auldian’s smile faded and he began to tense, “You’re ok with a war?”
“Yes”
“No, she’s not,” Alric said. “She’s just kidding.”
“She seemed serious. I haven’t seen anyone ready for the end of an alliance since the black elves.”
Kyrin smiled and sat back in her chair, happy that she’d made the elves nervous.
“The problem is that she doesn’t use magic for no reason. I’ve seen it. In fact, most of my Kingdom has seen it. That’s how we got rid of the Minotaurs.”
Auldian leaned forward, “She destroyed them?”
“Yes”
“How?”
They all looked at her, and she simply looked away.
“Tell them, please,” Alric said to her.
“Ok, here’s the deal, but I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I didn’t learn spells. I didn’t have a mentor. I can just do it. When I need something, words pop into my head, and I use them. Sometimes they work, sometimes they don’t, and sometimes they aren’t what I wanted. I am getting better at defending myself, but if I’m not being attacked, spells rarely work.”
“You have to have heard them, the words and incantations.”
“Well I didn’t. I have only about eight spells that I use regularly and those I do remember the words to. However, once in a while when I’m trapped or in a new situation, new ones appear in my mind, and I use them.”
“But sometimes they don’t work?”
“No, sometimes they don’t.”
“Such as when?”
Kyrin was starting to get irritated at the question, “Such as once in a while.”
“We still don’t believe you, and unless you have a demonstration, then we’ll have to confront Sithias about the lies and break off the alliance.”
“I have no reason at all to demonstrate anything to you.”
Alric thought it through, along with some of the things Sithias had told him about evils that were loyal, “If the alliance breaks, Valhara will be in the middle of a war.”
“Right”
“Meaning I’ll be out on endless battles and skirmishes, and you will be here, constantly under attack from the elves.”
Her eyes narrowed, “Keep going…”
“Things change during a war. There’s not a lot of down-time or peace and quiet. I could spend years away from the Kingdom fighting in remote lands.”
Kyrin turned and looked at him, “Magic is selective. If there’s no real need, then sometimes it doesn’t work.”
“You may just need more practice.”
She looked up at the ceiling and sighed, “What do you want me to do?”
“Just do magic, doesn’t matter what.”
“I don’t want to blow anything up in the castle.”
“Then we’ll go outside,” Alric said, standing up. She was openly not happy about what she was doing, but saw the need to protect herself from an unwarranted war with the royal elves.
Everyone walked out of the castle and to the front lawn. She looked around, “I still don’t see anything to blow up.”
Auldian was clearly not believing any of it, “Just blow up one of my consorts.”
“Ok”
“Wait!” Alric interrupted. “No, do something else.”
She nodded and looked around the lawn. A small bunny appeared out of the apple orchard and began to lick his paws on the fluffy grass.
Alric followed her gaze, “You wouldn’t…”
Without warning, Kyrin’s hands grew red, and she threw a flaming ball at it, hitting is squarely. It immediately burned down to the bone and the grass around it turned black.
The elves were speechless. Magic was dead, yet they were seeing it first-hand. A murmur ran through them, and Kyrin looked at Alric, “What?”
“That was a harmless bunny.”
“Which serves no purpose. It’ll never be missed.”
He was glad the elves were talking among themselves and didn’t hear what she said. Her evil ways were going to be harder to hide than he thought if she kept spouting off with things like that.
“Qualsax cannot know,” Auldian said at long last.
“They don’t,” Alric assured him.
“If they find out that Sithias has a magic user, they will stage a war.”
“Against both of your kingdoms at once?” Kyrin asked.
Trox turned to her, “Qualsax doesn’t have the rules our kingdoms have.”
“So you’re saying that Qualsax is much bigger because they don’t have to adhere to rules?” For some reason, she thought that was funny.
“Yes, they are much bigger than both of our kingdoms combined,” Auldian told her. “The only reason they don’t attack us is that they are also lazy. If Erianah finds out you are a magic user though, that would all change.”
“How would she find out?”
Auldian turned to Alric, “Sithias knows?”
“Of course.”
“Has he considered that she might be an evil?”
“Yes, that was what we first thought also.”
“Well I’m not convinced she’s not.”
Kyrin wandered over to the burnt grass to avoid getting in on the argument she saw coming. She didn’t care if they knew she was what this dimension called an evil.
She looked back long enough to see that Alric and Auldian were still bickering, so she disappeared into the apple orchard. When she got to the tallest tree, she hiked her skirt up and climbed up into its branches. Once high above the ground, she leaned back with an apple and listened to the others.
“If we deem her an evil, she will have to be destroyed,” Auldian snapped.
“She’s not an evil and to destroy her, you have to come through my army,” Alric replied evenly.
“I’m not afraid of your army.”
“I still think this is senseless! We have the Qualsax after us, and we’re fighting. We have to stand united against them, or they will eventually take over.”
“You’re right,” Auldian said, a lot calmer than before. “We’llv expect your magic user to protect us if the call comes though.”
“I don’t control her.”
“You should. She’s in your Kingdom.”
Kyrin grinned, knowing neither of them could control her.
“Well I don’t. She’s free to come and go as she pleases, and as you’ve seen, she doesn’t bow to my command,” Alric told him.
“Then you need to get a grip on her.”
“She’s a special case, and I’m sure Sithias will agree. She’s not part of my Kingdom and isn’t under his influence even.”
“No, she’s not in your Kingdom, but she’s obviously your lover.”
“I wouldn’t say that exactly,” Alric said, and she could tell by his voice that he was smiling.
“Control her.”
“She’s not mine to control.”
“I’ll be talking to Sithias about this,” Auldian threatened.
“Go ahead.”
“Four of my assistants will be arriving to work out details of our peace treaty within the week.”
“Very well, they are welcome here.”
Kyrin looked over from her perch up high, and saw the elves heading out toward Valhara. She leaned back with another apple and watched until they disappeared.
“Kyrin?” Alric called from in the orchard.
When he passed below the tree she was in, she dropped down behind him, “Yes?”
He turned quickly and shook his head, “You were up in a tree?”
“Yes”
“In a dress.”
“Sure”
He grinned at her, “You wouldn’t know proper etiquette if it slapped you in the face, would you?”
“See, that’s your mistake,” she said, slowly circling him. “I know proper etiquette if I really try to think about it. The question then becomes, if I wish to follow it or not.”
“Interesting”
“Ever considered taking off the official tunic and climbing a tree once in a while?”
“I do, maybe not literally.”
“I haven’t seen you.”
“I don’t do it often, especially in front of the people of Valhara.”
“Why not? You’re the King. If you want to walk around naked, then they shouldn’t have a say in it.”
He laughed at that, “I try not to.”
“Well at least you can. You should relax a little.”
“It is good to be King.”
***
“Lady Kyrin?”
Kyrin sighed and turned behind her, “Don’t call me that.”
“I’m sorry.” The young tailor came in with a garment bag and bowed.
“First off, don’t bow either. Second, I don’t need any more clothes. I have three entire outfits already.”
“I thought… well… I heard what you said… to the other tailor. I thought you might like this.” His nervousness irritated her.
“What is it?”
“A dress… sort of.”
This caught her attention, “What do you mean?”
“Well, we’d need to check with the King… but it’s not long, as is proper…”
She smiled, “Really? Let me see.”
Kyrin took the bag and disappeared behind the dressing curtain. She pulled the dress out and was fairly impressed. It was deep blue and gray, and had no embellishments or jewels. The top was a halter top with an under shirt of dark gray and the skirt was full, but would only come to her knees.
She slipped it on and looked in the mirror. It was much nicer than the tunic she wore every day, but not nearly as fancy as what they usually made her wear. She moved a bit behind the curtain and saw that it wouldn’t restrict her movements at all. The body was fitted and not at all bulky, and she had free range of motion with her flail.
Kyrin came out and smiled, “I like it.”
“We still, well we have to get it approved through the King.” He said, looking over his work.
“Why’s that?”
“It’s not proper.”
“Well he’s not my King, and I like it.”
“We still…”
“No, we don’t. Now can you make me a way to hold my flail?”
He nodded and then rushed off.
Kyrin had to smile. Alric was going to love the dress, even with its modifications. It wouldn’t inhibit a fight, so she thought she may actually like it. Because it was fitted on the top and flowing on the bottom, she didn’t think it would get in the way at all, and it was much cooler than the tunic and pants she’d been wearing.
It wasn’t but an hour later when the young tailor returned with a belt made out of the same material as the gray shirt. It was thick and accentuated her small waist, but had a loop for her flail that fit perfectly. She was nervous about looking as feminine as she did, but figured she wouldn’t wear it out of Paragoy anyway.
“Perfect!” Kyrin said, slipping her flail into her belt.
“Ma’am… I need to get permission, please.” The tailor seemed even more nervous.
She turned to look at him, “Why?”
“I’m new. I can’t cause problems or I could get sent back to the village.”
“You designed this dress?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Stop calling me Ma’am.”
“Yes… ok.”
“Let’s go talk to Alric.”
“What!?” His eyes grew wide.
“Alric, your King.”
“I know who he is. I just… why bother him?”
“Because I have an idea,” she said, and started out the door. The vnervous tailor followed her and kept watching around him. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be walking around the palace with the Lady, and he knew he wasn’t supposed to be designing dresses for her.
When she knocked on Alric’s office door, the young tailor cringed and sunk back slightly away from her.
“Who is it?” Alric called out.
“Me,” she said, and then glanced behind her.
“Come in.”
Kyrin opened the door into the massive office. She often suspected she could fit Creteloc’s entire home into his office, and it seemed ostentatious, but so were so many other things in Paragoy.
“Hello,” he said, smiling. Alric stood and moved to her and then kissed her lightly after taking her hands.
She backed away, still irritated that he held her hands, and turned, “I want him as my tailor.”
Alric was looking down at her dress, “Wow.”
She looked down, “What?”
“You’re wearing a dress, and no one died.”
“This one… I like.”
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” he said, and walked around her. A proper dress had long sleeves with billowing cuffs, long, full skirts with petticoats and sometimes even a hoop, and low necklines.
“That’s why I want this tailor.”
Alric looked up at the tailor, who was just starting to back out of his office, “Who are you?”
The tailor bowed deeply, “Dison, Sir.”
“You made this?”
Dison simply swallowed hard and nodded.
Alric grinned, “How did you get her into it?”
Kyrin slapped him on the arm, “He didn’t force me. I told you, those dresses you all put me in don’t allow me free movement. If I can’t fight, then I won’t wear it.”
“I… I… well… I heard… and then…,” Dison mumbled, looking at the floor.
“Are you afraid of me?” Alric asked him.
“Sir?”
“You look like you’re going to have a heart attack.”
“Well…”
Kyrin sighed, “He’s afraid because apparently he thought he had to get the designs for this dress approved by you.”
Alric grinned sheepishly, “That is true.”
“Why do you have to approve my clothes?”
“It’s not that exactly. You’re… well… for all intents and purposes, barely dressed.
”Kyrin looked down, “I’m covered.”
“We’re just used to women being more covered.”
“And helpless.”
“That too.”
“Well either he’s my tailor, or I go back to pants.”
Alric leaned back on his desk, “Dison… you came up with this?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Based on what she said to someone?”
“To the head tailor, Sir.”
He smiled, “Perfect.”
“I can move in it,” Kyrin explained. “There aren’t any long sleeves to get caught on things, and no long skirts. He even gave me a spot for my flail.”
“Yes, I saw that.”
“If he’s going to take the time to listen to me, t