Chapter X - Stepping into the Light

The Legend of Leanna Page: Vol. I

You’re reading The Legend of Leanna Page, the page-turning mythopoetic queer literary fantasy. *Click here for the Table of Contents and start of Volume I*

Previously: Leanna and Kennedy snuck into the castle of Masor and threw their family’s life into disarray. Kennedy has allied with Queen Okalani to disrupt the larger institutions of Alquoria, and Leanna has been offered a position in the castle of Masor. Will Leanna get out of the cave? Will her family be safe if she does? Read on!

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“King Madrick has invited me to become his page,” Leanna said to her parents the very evening that Kennedy was lost. She could instantly feel their trepidation, enhanced by the already great emotion of the night, but she continued. “I would like to accept the position. May I?”

The discussion which followed was lengthy and not unencumbered by fears. Byrdon, for one, was not entirely fond of the thought that his familial connection to Masor might be made known to Prince Guiomar through his daughter’s presence in the Masorian courts, and Esta, for another, knowing the king’s habits, was uncertain the position was quite fit for one of only eleven years, as Leanna was. Furthermore, if the magic of their adobe, or their close friendship with fairies!, were ever to be made known, the Masorian royals would surely have both mother and child removed from their positions, if not also from their heads, for treason. Beyond even this concern, Esta still fretted on the inarguably magical nature of the child and dreaded to think that anything might release a yearning for the Jewel that lay so near them, but of this she said nothing to Leanna or her father, both of whom remained unaware of the child’s prepartum interests.

Nevertheless, Leanna pleaded, and assured them both she would remain ever cautious to maintain the secrecy of all that required concealment, and, as far as the king’s habits, Leanna reminded her mother, while they encouraged him towards lethargy and indifference, he remained a good-hearted man of humility who would never dream to do her harm.

“There is still but more, Leanna,” Esta continued. “Thou art awake to knowledge that could set our kingdoms aflame. It is true,” she looked to Byrdon, “that royals do not often believe accusations on the word of one of our station, but,” returning to Leanna, “of all of them, King Madrick might. If thou wert to imply an awareness of the real events that led to his parents’ death, it could change everything.” Fear made the mother’s voice unsteady, but the child shared none of her concern.

“Would that not be splendid?” Leanna asked with amazement. “The goodness of the fairies could be made known!”

Byrdon knelt down and took his daughter’s hand. “Such is what we all would wish for if it were not at such danger to ourselves.”

“Danger?”

The father nodded. “Masor’s king would have all the needed authority to begin a war with Pavoline, and I can hardly believe his nature is so forgiving that he would restrain himself upon believing the truth.”

Esta agreed. “I am not certain our family could withstand the fighting that would follow; not when we serve so close to the crown.”

“But we live within magic’s walls,” Leanna reminded them. “Neither kingdom could touch us so long as we always return home.”

Esta looked only upon Leanna, not daring to glance at the walls as she spoke low. “These caves have been our veil and protector for many years, but we have no way to be certain they will remain the haven of safety we have come to love.” Leanna understood that her mother thought of the Jewel, but the child had learned long ago not to inquire on it. Esta went on. “If one day the cave were to decide we were no longer welcome, or if it asked of us an offering we could not provide, I dread to think we would have no recourse but to return to a world divided by violence. Leanna, hold thy objection and understand. I too once believed the truth was the only path to peace, but I no longer see it as such. This family is the most vivid beacon of hope I see for this world, and I care for nothing now but to protect it.”

“As do I,” Leanna whispered in meek reply.

Byrdon drew her attention. “It is vital that thou realize, if the Oxbiens were to seek retribution for Guiomar’s crime, everyone would wonder how Madrick came to suspect that Guiomar was the killer.” Esta nodded in vigorous agreement. “Violence would not only fall around us, but terrible investigations would be directed straight upon thee, and soon inevitably to thy mother.”

“It would then take only small remembrances for Isolda to think back to the night thy father and I met and she could well deduce from thence who thy paternal relation might be, and if that were made known to Guiomar....” Esta dared not finish the idea.

Leanna’s imagination conjured images of the caring faces before her locked behind dungeon bars, crying out in pain, and she could bear it no more.

“I understand! I do, I swear it. Already I have lost half a family, I will take such extreme care not to destroy the rest of it. I swear it, upon everything, upon the River and Sky, I will not betray us!”

“But still thou wishest to serve the king?” Esta bemoaned.

“Please, Mother,” at a sudden Kennedy’s words returned to her ear and, though saddened at the pain it might give them, she dared to echo the sentiments. “I cannot live my whole life in a cave.”

Mother and father looked to one another and sighed.

The next day, Leanna accompanied her mother up the well, through the bustling market streets, and into the castle, now through the grand front entrance. Leanna held her breath, holding tight to her mother’s hand, as they passed easily between the guards without being troubled. Esta took Leanna to the king’s apartment and optimistically rapped on the door. Upon receiving no answer, she deduced that the king still slept and allowed Leanna to accompany her through her morning duties until the king would awake.

Following her mother from room to room, Leanna assisted the launderers, peeled fruit for the cook, polished a helmet, and blew off dust from a hanging tapestry. As she now trotted through the hall alongside her mother, who was carrying new ink to the princess’s chambers, King Madrick appeared before them, a smile immediately brightening his eyes upon his notice of them.

“Good morn, Esta!” he barked. “May I assume the reappearance of the little one means I have at last fulfilled my sister’s request that I acquire a servant?”

Esta smiled and turned to Leanna who nodded joyfully. The young child stepped toward the king and bowed too low for one pretending to be practiced, declaring, “It is my honor to be of service, your majesty,” in the fashion her parents had taught her the night previously.

Madrick shook his head. “Stand, I implore thee. There is no need for such things. As I have asked of thy mother, I hope thou wilt be willing to consider me a friend.”

The maids smiled, both, one with the excitement of ignorance, the other with the pity of wisdom.

“Your majesty,” Esta began. “Leanna’s placement in the castle comes not without its risk to our family. If you wish us well, I pray, speak not the name of her mother to Isolda, and speak to no one anything you may suspect of her father.”

“Worry not. I indeed wish thee well, and so thy wishes I shall respect. No one ever shall sense a hint of it from me,” the king said in earnest.

“Thank you, your majesty.” Esta curtsied in further thanks. “I must now to Isolda.”

“Indeed,” Madrick nodded. Esta held Leanna’s shoulder, smiled, then walked on, and the king continued. “In fact, Leanna, follow me thence, and I shall now introduce thee to my sister, her royal highness.”

When Leanna and Madrick reached Isolda’s chamber, they held back in the hall a moment, allowing a minute between their entrance and that of Esta just before, keeping their laughter silent as they counted the seconds. At length, Madrick approached and pounded upon the door.

“Isolda! The king requests an audience,” he bellowed in exaggerated jest.

“Can it not wait, Madrick?” came her familiar snarl. He laughed.

“Please, Princess. Grant your brother just a moment of your day.”

They could hear her deep sigh from without the door.

“Enter,” she reluctantly allowed, and they did so. Without looking up from her papers, she urged, “What is it?” and, looking up now, seeing Leanna, added, “Who is this?”

“Your highness had requested I acquire a servant. Such is done.”

“A child,” she confirmed.

“Verily.”

“And from whence did you find a mother willing to lend her child to one such as yourself?”

“I discovered the youth wandering about the castle, so eager to serve she was.”

“From whither doth she hail, Madrick?”

Leanna met eyes a moment with her mother, who tended to the bedclothes, before the king responded in perfect calm.

“She haileth from directly within the city. A pure-bred Masorian.”

Isolda nodded, then shook her head in fatigue. “I had hoped you would find a servant capable of performing duties.”

“I am, your majesty!” Leanna interrupted.

Isolda stared at her. “I see,” she said. Then to Madrick, “and you are comfortable requiring a child to pick your filthy socks off the floor?”

Leanna laughed. “I may instead persuade him to put them in a basket.”

Isolda took a sharp intake of breath and, to Madrick, declared, “She speaks out of turn.”

“Indeed,” Madrick smiled. “I find it rather charming.”

“Oh!” Isolda scowled. “Perhaps a child servant suits you, being as you are one yourself.”

“Sister, do you think so little of me?”

“In earnest, Madrick, I care not. Prithee, at minimum, have her tend to your horse. We happen to employ a very capable stablehand, and their talents are wasted caring for the old sentimental animal you make no use of.”

“That was Father’s horse, Isolda.”

“And will Father be riding?”

Isolda regretted her quip as soon she saw the joy fade from her brother’s visage, but she made her apology merely by continuing on.

“The child shall care for the horse. Beyond that, do what you will. Only know, if her insolence disturbs my peace, I shall have her removed,” the princess said, and, raising her quill, she returned to her work.

“Upon such a time, would not the power of my removal reside with the king?” Leanna asked.

Isolda halted her quill mid-stroke and, remaining still, lifted her gaze slowly to Madrick who, smiling again, desperately held back a snort.

“Come, Leanna,” he said, breaking some tension. “I shall show thee to the stables.”

Isolda watched them, fuming silently, until her chamber door had latched shut. She sat back and looked to Esta.

“What Masorian household managed to raise such a creature?” the princess conjectured.

The secret mother honestly laughed and shook her head in disbelief.

Leanna followed the king through familiar passages of the castle’s eastern wing until they stepped out onto a wooden deck overlooking the royal garden with its paths wandering through yellow rose bushes. Surveying the area, Leanna could see that the servants’ entrance she snuck into the day before lay not far from where they stood. Madrick led her through the garden until they reached its opposite side, now discovering the stables before them.

The royal stables were well attended to, and the frontmost stalls housed mighty steeds, all trained for use in battle. Leanna, though having heard many tales of the animals, had never been in one’s presence and was both intimidated and inspired by their height, strength, and beauty. Madrick, however, looked to none of them and led Leanna straight to the back of the stables where, in the final stall, stood a dark brown thoroughbred stallion, a white diamond adorning his brow. Madrick stopped before it, unlatching the stall door, then stepped back to allow Leanna inside.

The child approached the horse and looked up, her brow just peeking above the point of the animal’s shoulder. Madrick circled to the opposite side and placed a hand on his withers.

“His name is Dawn,” he explained. “He carried my father to many victories in both combat as well as friendly competition.”

Leanna smiled and raised her hand to Dawn’s cheek as he lowered his muzzle to greet her. “He’s beautiful,” she said. Her intimidation at his size faded as his gentle nature was made clear.

“Ho! Who goes there?”

Leanna backstepped outside the open stall to see who had bellowed. She had no recollection of the stern countenance that now marched toward her, so she merely looked to Madrick for how to respond. He knew the deep voice of the stablehand well and, at its steely tone, came round the animal swiftly to explain the presence of the strange girl.

“‘Tis only I, Leif. Forgive the intrusion.”

At sight of the king, all severe shadows on the stablehand’s visage melted away and the worker turned to the floor in obeisance, concealing the gladness that had encroached upon their countenance at the sight of Madrick Oxbien II. “No, forgive me, your majesty,” they said and, rising to look at the king, added, “You could never intrude.”

Madrick found himself caught in a glance with eyes he had not seen for several a year, and at a sudden, he recalled the vague feeling of fondness which, in the past, had consistently arisen in him around the stablehand. Maintaining their glance, and stumbling over syllables, Madrick uttered, “That is very kind. It has been quite long since I visited Dawn. I regret my absence.”

“Certainly you were missed, your majesty, by Dawn,” Leif replied. “Though I swear to you, I take great care of your father’s steed. He wants for nothing.”

Both of them smiled. “My many thanks,” Madrick said.

Leanna stood between the two waiting to be introduced. They both, for the moment, seemed not to remember she was present. Leanna followed the king’s gaze and looked up at the stablehand, presuming to memorize the figure lest she be forced by circumstance to introduce herself on her own some time hence. Leif wore fine, well-built boots, of a polished light auburn, with pointed toes and a thin, highly raised heel. Light-colored stitching on the boot shafts twisted up like vines up to where the shoe ended just below the knee, and was a distinct contrast at the top to the dark brown trousers which were tucked inside the shoe. They had on a long light green tunic which draped down just above their knee, and at their waist was cinched a wide decorative belt that also served to hold a variety of tools. Leanna noticed the cut of the garment and the style and placement of the belt created more the fit of one of her mother’s tunics than one of her father’s, which seemed unusual to her given the stablehand’s overall masculine frame, not to mention the neatly groomed stubble that adorned their chin and lip. Too, the top of their hair was pulled taut and tied in the back, accentuating a sharp hairline that squared off at the temples while the remainder fell in light feminine curls down around their neck, one side touching their collarbone as it draped over their shoulder. Although she had never seen someone dressed in such a fashion before, Leanna quickly remembered that she had yet to see much of anything before and thus presumed that this style must be nothing particularly remarkable to one who lived in the town. Furthermore, the incongruent attire, when viewed as a whole, created a rather pleasing portrait of a strong and kind figure.

Madrick cleared his throat. “It’s been so long since I have seen...” Hesitating over the best way to convey his meaning, he started again. “…since I have seen anything in the stables; or anyone. Pardon me, I was of course informed those years back when the directive was altered on how to refer to... ‘Leif’ in the third. Since then, I had not heard… appearance had changed.”

Leif tucked a curl behind their ear. “I hope I have not displeased you, your majesty.”

“No! By the River, I quite mean the contrary. The hair is a splendid fit for… I mean, the way it frames…”

“Do you simply mean his hair looks nice, sire?” Leanna chirped.

Madrick broke from Lief’s gaze to direct an instructive eye to Leanna. “I speak of their hair,” he corrected. Returning his gaze to Leif, a cheerful countenance crept into his features. “And, well, yes, I mean to say it looks lovely.”

“Thank you, your majesty.” Leif smiled.

A moment passed before the king finally cleared his throat and gestured toward the small page. “This is Leanna. As of this morn, she has agreed to work as my first servant.”

“Hello!” Leanna said, extending her hand. Leif generously participated in the respectful greeting, disregarding the peculiarity of her youth.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance,” they replied with a slight chuckle.

“I was introducing her to Dawn,” Madrick explained.

“A beauty, is he not?” Leif stepped towards the inside of the stall and beckoned Leanna. She followed them and, at their encouragement, placed her hand where theirs had been on the horse’s nose. She nodded, breath caught in the excellence of the creature.

“Dawn was my father’s most prized steed.” Madrick went on, remaining at a distance. “I think part of him believed the horse was charmed, and so long as they rode together they could never be harmed. Even I, for a time, began to trust that Dawn was incapable of losing a rider.”

“What changed, your majesty?” Leanna asked in innocent forgetfulness. Madrick feigned having failed to hear the inquiry and, noting the somber glint in the king’s eye, Leif took it upon themself to respond.

“It was Dawn who finally carried the previous Crown Oxbiens into the Infinite Woods, and returned alone.”

“They died,” Leanna remembered.

“Murdered by fairies,” Madrick said, regaining his voice. “My parents nearly brought our kingdom peace, and the fairies destroyed it.”

“You haven’t visited the stables since that day,” Leif realized.

“Could anyone blame me?”

“No, your highness. I understand entirely.”

Leanna looked away from the humans and into the horse’s eye as she stroked his muzzle. Pain blazed in her chest as she restrained a cry, burning to explain to the king the true story of his parents’ demise, but was halted by the oath she had sworn the night previous. Still, while her parents had found peace in their decision to put the harmony of their family over the exoneration of the fairies, Leanna – especially with loss so fresh – had certainly not.

Without looking up from Dawn, she inquired, “You are entirely certain the fairies are to blame, your highness?”

The king nodded. “Their wounds were undoubtedly caused by fairy weaponry,” he said, “but forgive me, thou hast recently suffered a fright from a fairy, let us speak of kinder things.”

Leanna took a breath and glanced at Leif who returned a kind curiosity. Then, with one hand on Dawn, she slowly lifted her gaze to meet the king’s.

“Your majesty, the fairy did not frighten me,” she said.

Madrick laughed. “Thy manner suggested otherwise.”

“I do not mean to say I was free of fear, only that she looked no older than myself and it was the fear in her own eyes, followed by the attack of the knights, that caused my concern, not the fairy herself.”

“Thou didst feel for her?”

“Yes, your majesty.”

Madrick shook his head. “Thou art still young.”

“Yes, but sire—” Leanna did not dare to reveal all she knew and break her oath, still she now vowed in the same to do all else in her power toward the fairies’ vindication. She returned her gaze to the horse’s comforting eyes and, speaking cautiously, said, “—many of the fairies are still young as I am, I would guess. They have no guilt for the crime you put upon them, and yet they are harmed by the Masorian’s hatred all the same.”

Madrick’s grief brought contempt into his countenance. “If only their youth brought them innocence,” he said. “The fairy species can think in one of three ways depending on breed, be it foolishness, cruelty, or pride. They are doomed to calamity by their nature; it does naught to reduce their guilt.”

“That isn’t their nature,” Leanna said sternly.

“Whatever stories thou hast told thyself of ‘friendly fairies’, it is a lie.”

“It isn’t!” she barked.

“What wouldst thou know of it, Leanna?” the king rejoined.

The young page scowled, unable to respond, and quietly returned her gaze to Dawn. In the silence, Leif spoke.

“If I could, my king, I once came upon a fairy while wandering a Masorian wood. It was one of their warriors, I believe. We saw one another and I chose to remain still and silent. Upon my wishing her no ill will, she nodded appreciatively and passed me by. It is only a moment, next to meaning nothing, I know; more, certainly little Leanna knows no more than her heart has found in dreams, but I would be willing to wonder if she had found the truth nonetheless.”

Leanna gave Leif a slight smile of thanks then bravely returned her gaze to King Madrick, expecting his anger. He displayed only pensive sadness.

“Perhaps,” he said at last.

Dawn nickered, shaking his mane, and prodded Leanna lightly in her chin. It swiftly returned the stable to smiles; even Madrick laughed.

“He likes thee,” he said, and Leanna’s smile grew. Madrick turned to the stablehand. “Leif, Isolda has requested that Dawn’s care be transferred to Leanna so that... professional talents could be prioritized elsewhere.”

Leif made no effort to conceal their solemn surprise. “Oh, your majesty, tending to Dawn has been a personal joy. I would be happy for the little page’s company, but if it please you I would not abandon his care.”

Madrick smiled and sighed. “It would please me greatly, but I can’t be certain Isolda would approve pay for time spent with an animal she considers useless.”

“Then I would care for him before my paid hour of day.”

“For certain? I could never request it.”

“I am certain, and if ever there is a day I could not, Leanna could take my place.” Leif scratched the horse’s chin then looked to Madrick to add, “No one should be considered useless.”

“This is extremely generous, Leif,” Madrick said, with the utmost genuine of feelings. He turned to Leanna. “Would this suit thee, working here with Leif in the early morn?”

She smiled and gave several quick nods.

“Thank thee, Leanna.” Madrick looked from page back to stablehand and was caught again in the latter’s glance. “And my sincerest thanks to...” the king cleared his throat once again and spoke more firmly. “Greatest thanks to you, good Leif.”

Their brow shot high at the king’s deference. “Your majesty,” they began. “Surely I do not deserve such language. My position affords me no greater status than Leanna’s.”

“Verily!” the page remarked, playing wounded.

“Come, think seriously,” Madrick explained. “Knights are afforded such respect, even by royals, yet what knight could rise to greatness without the service of one who cares for their steed? Your work, Leif, is no less vital than theirs and thus I shall refer to you with no less respect.”

The stablehand laughed. “I appreciate the stretch of your logic, my liege, though I must note you have utilized no such thinking before.”

“I have thought it before. I was only too much a coward to act upon it.”

“I see,” Leif began with a coy grin. “And the cowardice has dissipated then?”

Madrick blushed. “Perhaps not entirely, but in this matter I am content to stand my ground.” King and stablehand shared an endearing look.

“So will you also refer to me with respect, your highness?” Leanna asked.

“Nonsense,” he replied. “Thy service is far less vital than theirs.”

“I serve the king!” she remarked.

“Precisely,” said he.

“I find this entirely unfair.”

“Isolda was right, thou dost speak far too easily out of turn.”

“You said you found that charming, sire.”

Leif erupted in laughter and the remaining two could not but follow suit.

*****

Over time, Dawn’s care flourished into a beloved meeting ground for the odd company of three. Leif instructed Leanna in all the particulars of equine caretaking, and without long she grew to quite adore the work, and even later gained skill in it. Madrick jested early on it would be an insult to his kingliness to have both his page and stablehand able to enjoy the splendors of the royal steeds without his being able to join them; yet, however much Leanna encouraged him to dirty his hands in the work, for the first six-month he was unsuccessful in answering the early sun’s beckon. This eventually saddened him so that he took to forsaking his evening drink so he might repose sooner and thus spring into alacrity with the morn. His first several attempts at this left him weary, stomach sick, and possessed with a certain fury and desperation that Leanna was wholly incapable of managing. She meekly raised the topic to Leif and though they said little by way of explanation, their smile and reassurances were enough to convince Leanna that all might soon be well.

She discovered the next day that Leif had taken it upon themself to tend to the king in the last hours of night and the first of the day so that when Leanna entered his chambers to begin her work Madrick maintained a reasonable enough manner to thank her and make of her no requests that required she indulge his sickness. At long last, Madrick attained a state of health that none had seen from him since his childhood, and every childlike ambition and pleasure returned in kind to his spirit.

Over the next many months, despite emerging from her cavern home before the rising of the sun, there were many days that by the time Leanna reached the stables she found the king and stablehand already within, engaging in charming discourse over the well-attended Dawn. Occasionally, her presence appeared to startle the pair out of a closer, private moment, and she would apologize for making them jump away from nearly touching one another, but they always played at ignorance, insisting nothing of the sort had occurred. She smiled every time.

“It seems as though you two are taking sufficient care of the stables, so I think I shall return to the castle and be king,” Leanna once jested.

“And take Isolda’s company over ours?” Madrick countered. “I hardly believe even thou art so selfless.”

Leanna laughed, admitting her bluff, then caught an apple Leif tossed to her, took a bite, and fed Dawn the remainder, joining the adults in their care of the horses.

*****

In Alquoria, once Kennedy had begun to speak after those first two years of silence, she set herself eagerly upon her mission to befriend fellow fairylings of varying hues. Although she introduced herself to a great many with proactive enthusiasm, those who were to become her best of friends came into her acquaintance entirely by accident.

“Don’t step just there!”

Kennedy contracted her falling foot back towards her chest and suddenly fluttered her wings to keep from tumbling down upon the cluttered market pier. An azure hand gripped her own and yanked her behind a cart of berries from whence the voice had first erupted.

“Forgive me, your royalness,” the small blue Zil fairyling uttered, though it was without any hint of regret or apology, “but I simply could not allow you to ruin it, not when I have worked so very hard.”

In all confusion, Kennedy followed the Zil girl’s gaze towards the center of the pier, whither she herself had earlier meant to step, and saw now the stealthy smile that was pulling at the girl’s cheeks as an older Zil man began to cross the same path. He stepped directly in the place Kennedy had evaded, and in the same instant a brief cloudless rainfall erupted above him, soaking him straight through.

“Nientz!! When I find thee…” He bellowed, and Kennedy saw the girl condense to her miniature form to be fully hidden by the cart. As the man stormed off, she grew again, holding back her prideful mirth to thank Kennedy for her quiet.

“It is only my father,” Nientz explained. “His anger shall dry up in due time, as does his tunic.” She giggled. “He despises my little tricks.”

“You caused that?” Kennedy marveled.

“I did indeed. Do not be too surprised, your royalness, Zils have more spark in us than we are credited for.”

“I had no doubt,” Kennedy affirmed, “and now I am all amazement. Can you show me more of your tricks?”

The Zil’s night-blue lips stretched into an eager grin.

It was a similar afternoon when Kennedy, on a day’s recess from schooling, decided she wished to find the top of the Infinite Trees. She knew it was not truly to be done, but the quest quite suited her wandering spirits. Some leagues up, she was halted suddenly by a flash of lightning shot to the side of her. Flying further to the side and looking beneath her she found a Kesk fairyling her own age flying up at her with a rageful stare.

“You are not permitted to fly this high, young royal,” the verdant girl said, rising to Kennedy’s level. “This is a warrior’s place.”

Kennedy smiled slyly, noting an opportunity for fun. “What is your name?”

“Phidia.”

“Are you a warrior, young Phidia?”

“Naturally!”

“Yet?” Kennedy clarified, and the girl made all attempts to maintain her sinking pride. She evaded the inquiry, turning back to Kennedy’s offense.

“You are breaking the rules.”

“Which rule is that?”

“Only a warrior may journey to this height among the Trees,” Phidia quoted from her memory of lessons.

“Then are you not breaking the rules as well, fairyling?”

Phidia floundered. “I only have journeyed this high to bring you down!”

“Why not instead allow me to bring you up?”

The green girl’s countenance twisted in confusion.

“Journey with me,” Kennedy implored.

“Ha! I think not.”

“Very well,” Kennedy shrugged. “I shall continue on my own then.”

“No!”

Phidia’s shout was drowned by Kennedy’s laughter as the someday-warrior rushed to follow the royal further and further into the Treetops, reaching a nearly breathless height before the latter finally managed to make the other smile with her twirls and airborne tricks. At last, then, she stopped rising and the two floated down beside one another, returning to Anwansi and sharing some of the details of their lives.

Kennedy found supreme difficulty in her efforts to further befriend those of her own color until she finally conceded it was not to be. Many of her fellow Nachovy were uninterested in maintaining too close a relationship with the rebellious one. Their similarly purple-skinned parents had influence on her classmates beyond what Kennedy could persuade; however, there was a notable exception. Amicus, who had been born of Zils, never knew their parents and so, beside the overly pompous and unyielding Nachovy instructors, they had only Kennedy in their ear. Their rebellion was a quieter one than Kennedy’s, for Amicus had not quite the spirit of a mass befriender as did she, still, they felt their spirit was not so neatly categorized as the other Nachovy. Many a varied interest pulled at their heart through the years. As a young fairyling, the first rebellion that appealed to them was the writing of poetry, thought to be too low of an activity for a Nachov to spend their time with. To Amicus, poetry was another way of dreaming.

“Teach it to me,” Kennedy begged when Amicus told her of it. They were more than pleased to oblige.

After a few attempts scratched into the bottom of writing desks under Amicus’s advisement, Kennedy took a copy of her scribbles into the Forest. As often occurred when Kennedy discovered a new pastime, or thought of a well-crafted jest, her thoughts now turned to Leanna as she wished at once to share with her in the fun. Wandering the Woods, saddened at the length she was from her friend, Kennedy found a piece of ivy and, taking a writing stick, scratched a new poem onto the leaf.

LINES OF IVY No.1

A leaf alone has
none such joy as when with more.
Be glad for a tree!

When it was completed, she smiled and held it up to see it against the light of the Sky. A wind blew and tore it from her hand. Devastated, she ran forth and leapt into the air, chasing the leaf with all the speed her wings could muster, but it evaded her. When it passed out of the Woods and into the border of Masor, Kennedy stopped and turned back, empty-handed, to Anwansi, hoping someone out there might discover her words and take a breath to enjoy them.

In their dream that night, Leanna mentioned to Kennedy with a chuckle this little poem that the wind had dropped on her head that day, and Kennedy squealed with delight. The wind, it seemed, favored them, Kennedy conjectured, and she meant to make good use of it.

*****

After the passing of three-dozen moons since she began her royal work, Madrick thought it good to celebrate Leanna’s long employment with a day away from the castle. Leif took over the planning of an outing, filling a basket with sweets from the kitchens, and saddling three strong horses who would appreciate some exercise. They turned out Dawn and spent an additional moment cleaning his coat, but would not risk the old horse’s back with a rider. Meanwhile, Madrick spent the prior evening tidying his chambers, laundering his riding clothes, and completing as many of Leanna’s chores as he could recall. Even he would admit it was done a bit clumsily, but it would be sufficient enough that nothing would be too far harmed by Leanna accepting his offer of a day off.

The little page could do nothing but smile when congratulations for her third service anniversary were bellowed to her from the back of the stables as she entered it that morning.

“A lovely day for riding,” Madrick offered, and Leanna was happy to go along.

The king and stablehand had taught Leanna everything there was to know about riding. She was no master, but she adored the connection it brought between herself and the animal, and always now yearned for the feeling of the wind roaring past her ears. Today, as soon as they were a suitable distance from the stables, Leanna turned a conniving smile towards her adult company then instantly lurched her steed into a gallop. Madrick and Leif looked to one another with shocked amusement then, with chortles, sped after her into the surrounding Masorian wood. None of the three could be certain whither they were headed but it became quickly evident they were in a battle of speed. At the same time that Leif and Madrick shouted intentions to get ahead of the page, if only either were able, the stablehand and king exchanged playfully knowing glances as they alternately slowed and sped to ensure Leanna remained in the lead.

She halted at last in a sudden clearing where short grass intermingled with wildflowers and the sun shone bright through the break in the treetops. Leanna had not one idea as to how she found the place, but she was nevertheless certain she had been seeking it all along. When Madrick and Leif joined her, she turned to them and smiled, proud. Both chuckled and exaggeratedly bowed to her skill as a rider.

All three dismounted. Leif and Leanna fed and watered the horses while Madrick took the basket and set out the preparations for a picnic. Madrick laughed upon seeing with what Leif had filled the basket.

“Her mother may be more appreciative if we give Leanna the horse feed, being that she is a growing child with more need of nutrients than pure sweets,” he jested. Leanna jumped and ran to kneel before the basket, instantly devouring one of the little cakes. Leif merely held Madrick’s gaze with a happily guilty smile.

Before long, the basket was emptied and all three of the company were filled to the brim and under the sleepy spell of a warm sun. Leanna turned away from the others to look out at their little meadow then fell back into the grass, allowing the warmth of the earth to fill her with peace. As they had grown accustomed to do, Madrick and Leif shared a glance, then followed her lead until they all lay in a circle of perfect contentedness.

“I could remain here ‘till the end of time,” Leanna said. “Couldn’t you?”

“Easily,” Leif agreed.

Madrick hesitated in his reply. “I think I want to be king,” he said at last. Leif offered him their open gaze.

“You are the king, sire,” Leanna said frankly.

“No, I am the brother of the vice-crown. As far as my duties, I am hardly other than a stablehand. Not that it is something lesser to be a stablehand, it is only that—”

“Of course, you should act as king, Madrick. There is no need to explain,” Leif interjected to cease the royal’s racing thoughts.

“Do you imagine I would be any good at it, Leif?”

Leanna answered: “You will only ever be as good as you try to be, your majesty.”

“I think you would be marvelous,” Leif replied. Madrick drank in their kind eyes as well as their words and found the corners of his lips sneaking up into a smile.

“What would you say to Isolda?” Leanna asked.

“Perhaps I’ll say nothing and just have thee report to her the good news.”

Leif shook their head at the king’s cruel jest.

Leanna shrugged. “If you wish it, sire.”

He scoffed. “No, no, it would not be right. Although, in truth, I don’t know that much need change with Isolda. I have no interest in handling the gentry, and she deals with them well enough. I want to put effort toward improving the life of the peasant.”

“That’s incredibly good of you, your highness,” Leif said.

“Only I don’t know how,” the king admitted.

“Then ask them,” Leanna suggested. “Hold court and invite forth any peasant who wishes to bring you their troubles, then you can do all in your power to aid them.”

“Can it be that simple?”

“It could certainly be a start,” Leif offered.

Madrick let out a satisfied huff. “Perhaps I shall do just that. Thank thee, Leanna.”

“Took you long enough, sire,” she said.

He laughed, then nodded, slight. “Indeed.”

The three remained lying in silence for a time and Leanna drifted off into her own contemplations. As the wind softly drifted by, Leanna caught sight of an ivy leaf floating through the air and falling gently toward her. It landed upon her heart. Seeing the hand writ upon it, she smiled.

LINES OF IVY No.2

Let the wind fly these lines to thee and
End the dreary boredom of thy day,
As surely any day without me must be dreadfully drab.
No fear! A fairy’s song is here.
No climb! This fairy’s gift will find thee when it’s time.
And its very lines shall spell thy name!

Leanna reread the poem several a time, holding back her giggles and tucking the leaf safely away in her pocket. Eventually, Leanna returned her consciousness to the present company and tilted her head back so she might see them behind her. Directly centered in her line of sight she saw the fingers of the king and the stablehand hovering beside each other as though the hands were resisting some incredible force endeavoring to pull them together. As she looked on, the backs of two complementary fingers grazed each other, then melted into the touch. She squinted at it, then turned her gaze back to the Sky, and smiled.

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Chapter XI - Stablehands and Pages