After a long bath in the underground bathhouse, Amalia nearly fell asleep before supper was even served. Dressed in an indigo gown, with a dark, gray apron with a golden rope of jewels secured across the bosom, her hair was combed, oiled, and braided in the Wregardian style.
She didn't care much for how she looked. She was just grateful to be clean again.
She slipped on supple, leather boots and headed for the door. When she stepped outside, her four guards awaited her exit.
Their eyes lingered on her face, and then down the length of her new dress and back.
Cheeks reddening, she walked past them without a word, and headed toward the dining hall.
The the narrow, wooden hallway she went, and stood under the archway that led into the bright, main hall where several Wregardians awaited her arrival.
Heart thumping in her chest, she looked back at them as they quieted down from their loud, boisterous banter to stare at her the same way her quad had just done.
Kylan stood behind the table that overlooked all of the other long, rectangular ones that the guests would be seated at. For across the distance between them, she could see the look in his eyes.
It was one of pride, and adoration, and it brought a smile to her face.
And, with that, confidence grew in her heart. At that moment, no one else existed. Just her and Kylan. With shoulders pulled back, she strode into the room with the demeanor of a true empress, and her people felt her energy shift, and bowed as she passed by.
Once she reached the platform where Kylan stood behind their table, she joined him at his side. He took her hand, and together they sat down in their elaborate, wooden chairs, decorated with large, red and green jewels, and the others inside the dining hall followed suit.
Jora sat at a table on the lower level, and gave Amalia a nod of approval that made her smile widen.
She could do this.
She had no other choice, and no other desire to not fulfill her destiny. With a deep breath in, she looked down upon the dining hall, as the guests looked up to her and Kylan. She gave him a sidelong glance. They made a lovely pair, and she wouldn't want anyone else by her side on this journey.
Perhaps the gods did finally show favor on her. After all she'd been through, it was about time.
But, Jora's words settled heavily within her head. The journey was just beginning and nothing she'd dealt with in the past would be as hard as what the future held. Still, the future had such a bright and shiny treasure at the end that she couldn't wait to get her hands on. To finally have a home.
Tears burned her eyes as she thought of her mother and father. They'd been murdered just to hurt her. She would honor their memory, and tell them the tale once they met again in the afterlife.
"Evening, brothers and sisters of Wregard," Kylan said, his voice booming as he addressed the dining hall. Fires burned on pyres situated on either end of the tables, and in the corners of the room, as well as from a massive candelabra that hung from the ceiling.
Everyone turned their attention to him, and silence filled the room.
He stood once again, his hand on Amalia's shoulder. "True descendants of the great dragon. The people of Kjos. Citizens of the lost empire of Erani."
Amalia got chills at his words. As she looked down at them, she imagined life in Erani before the war, and how all of those people were the descendants of that once thriving nation.
They would thrive again.
Wine had been poured into everyone's chalice, and she drank a mighty gulp.
"I am pleased to introduce you to your master. Mistress of Erani. The last heir to our throne. Amalia."
A cheer rose from the crowd, and Amalia was relieved. She smiled at them and nodded her thanks. These weren't the people she'd have to convince. They were coming, and she wasn't sure what she'd do to prove herself.
"Now," he added. "Let's drink, eat, and be merry. Tomorrow, the great leaders of the last tribes will arrive, and we will welcome them as brothers. By year's end, we may very well be home."
That elicited an even louder roar of applause and cheers, as the men and women rose from their seats and lifted their drinks to Kylan and Amalia.
Kylan settled back in his seat, beside her, and drank from his glass. He looked to her, and gave a wink.
She giggled, drinking more as the food was served.
Giant platters of roasted pig, and lamb were set at the tables, covered in a rich sauce and surrounded by winter vegetables, potatoes. Baskets of hot, brown bread was placed on the tables as well, and everyone took to eating as musicians played drums and instruments that reminded Amalia of the wind whistling in through the golden fields of wheat back in Skal.
She ate her fill, and drank her share, and by the end of the night, her worries had been melted away.
Peace settled in her heart--peace that was shattered by the arrival of a young boy.
He ran past the tables filled with guests, and no one paid him any mind. No one but Amalia.
he went to Kylan, out of breath, and covered in dirt, and whispered something into his ear.
Kylan listened, his cheeks paling as he did so. He thanked the boy, and sent him away. For a moment, he didn't speak. He simply looked off into the distance, not really looking at anything, lost in his thoughts.
Amalia's stomach bubbled with worry, as she placed her hand on his. "What is it? What did the boy say?"
He looked to her, and exhaled.
"King Matsuharu is dead," he said, and Amalia's heart sank. "Lordisburg has been attacked."
"By who?"
Kylan didn't answer right away, and she leaned forward. "Tell me."
He stood, jaw clenched. "Your friends," he said. "The Wolves."