Disclaimer: All characters from the Tortallan series are the property of Tamora Pierce. Just be mindful that I've borrowed some quotations and direct lines from Wild Magic. Also, due to my own reasons for this fic, Daine has come to Tortall 4 years earlier than in canon.

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Inside Politics

A retelling of Wild Magic with a twist.

-

Looking at Alanna made Daine’s throat dry. But when the Lioness gazed back at her in gratitude, Daine could do nothing but swallow a lump of saliva and feel like she was ten feet tall.

“It was no trouble—” were the only words that Daine managed to say.

Alanna smiled. “If you need anything, come to me. A place to stay, money, work—I don’t care. If I’m not around, go to my husband.” Gods, Daine thought, amazed at the extravagant golden band on the woman’s ring finger. Alanna continued, her voice suddenly thoughtful. “Though, you’ll more than likely find him at Pirate’s Swoop these days. When there isn’t any action occurring in the realm, you can find him there with paper work.”

“Or conversing with friends. The Baron enjoys the company, anyway.” Onua added.

Alanna snorted, as if annoyed by her husband’s antics. “He says it’s a bore when I’m not around. As if he doesn’t have enough going on.” Onua threw her head back and laughed, but Daine only smiled, not understanding the comment. She was not privy to their lives back in Corus or Pirate’s Swoop, and that fact served to emphasise the bitter truth that she had no home.

In a serious tone, the Knight looked at Daine. “I mean it. We owe you this much.”

Daine nodded, not trusting herself to speak. A living legend was offering her, whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted. The kindness even extended from her lord, or baron, husband. When did fortune favour her so?

“Will you be heading further south?” Onua asked.

Alanna strapped on her gauntlets, and secured Darkmoon’s saddle. “No. I’ll see the local magistrate, now that I have Arram’s information. I’m also sending word to the King, to tell him about our visitors last night, and the Stormwings.” Darkmoon butted Daine’s shoulder affectionately one last time. When his mistress swung up on his back, he moved proudly, and Alanna offered Daine her hand to shake. “Take care, all of you. I expect to see you at the palace soon, Daine.” Looking to the rest of the men, she straightened up and took command. “Let’s go!”

Daine watched wistfully as the company galloped off. What an experience! She had just met Alanna the Lioness, the only Lady Knight in living memory. She made Daine feel a sense of hope.

A girl like her could get used to Tortall. Elated, she headed back to work on some leatherwork repairs.

-

While they approached the capital, Numair had been trying to imagine what people were thinking as they rode past. He would relay his creations verbally to Daine. It served to keep the girl occupied and in giggles. Soon the two of them were so thoroughly entertained, that Onua was forced to scold them half-heartedly into seriousness. Nevertheless they continued throwing silly, but creative, ideas between them, until finally they reached the gates that lead to the home of her companions.

“That’s the palace.” Numair said, while Daine observed the magnificent structure that appropriately crowned the highest point in Corus. Even from here, she could spot—in the distance—a royal blue flag with a silver crown and blade, flapping impishly. It was like a bright beacon against the clear blue sky. Seeing it raised in isolation was odd; she had gotten used to associating it with Alanna’s shield.

Onua must have read her thoughts. “Alanna doesn’t lead the King’s Own, Daine. She just works with them.” Daine nodded, feeling like an idiot. Obviously, I still have much to learn.

Numair suddenly sighed, as if his next words were ones he’d said many times before. But for her sake, he put on a cheerful grin. “Welcome to Corus, Daine Sarrasri. This is the throne of the most controversial and eclectic monarchy in all of the Eastern Lands.” He inclined his head towards the palace, then turned to wink at her. “You’ll have fun, I can promise you that.”

Judging from the fact that a woman served as King’s Champion, that said Champion turned out to be Alanna the Lioness, and that the most powerful sorcerer in the nation fussed over his hair as much as she herself did… Daine thought it wise not to debate Numair’s assurance.

-

By then, Daine was used to stumbling into unpredictable situations. At least she hoped she was.

The woman before her was dressed simply in breeches and a shirt, but she turned them into the richest garments ever worn. Masses of her coal-black hair had been woven into a braid and coiled around her head. She was the most beautiful female Daine had seen, lovelier even than her Ma.

Her body moved graciously, and Daine wished she could grow to be as outstandingly stunning as the woman before her. Even the woman’s voice was husky and feminine. “There’s bad blood in my family.” She was saying. “I’m half-K’mir, anyway. You’re a friend of Onua’s?”

“I work for her.”

“You’re Daine.” At Daine’s slightly slacked jaw, the woman turned her beauty on full display as she smiled warmly. “Word travels fast here. You’ll get used to it. Goddess knows I have.” The woman’s calloused hands gripped her palms and that eased the ball of tension in Daine’s stomach.

People of this woman’s beauty and refinement were usually nobles or princesses, or even goddesses—not that Daine had ever seen one in her thirteen years alive. The closest to royalty she had gotten to was Alanna, who, as King’s Champion, was close enough. After one got over the initial authority that surrounded the Lady Knight, it was easy to talk and joke with her.

“Let’s go eat. I’m starving—you must be, too.” The woman said, patting her stomach.

Daine agreed, suddenly feeling hungry. As they passed the fences, a dark-haired man of towering build approached them. So many people, Daine thought, her mind still in a flurry with all the new faces she had met that day. As Daine inspected him, she noted the imposing chain-mail that draped his frame.

His grin was infectious, though. “You look lovely, your Majesty.” His tone suggested familiar jesting, but Daine’s sudden panic stopped her from taking note. Your Majesty, your Majesty, your Majesty kept echoing in Daine’s head.

The woman laughed and slapped the man’s arm. He would have felt nothing, especially with those muscles. “Thank you Raoul. But stop. You know I don’t like people knowing that. I’m a humble woman now.” She turned her glance to Daine. “This is Sir Raoul of Goldenlake, Daine. He’s the Knight Commander of the King’s Own. Raoul, this young lady is Daine.”

Sir Raoul nodded in welcome. “Ah, Onua and Numair’s conquest. How are you liking Corus so far, Daine?”

Daine took a few deep breaths. “Its been bizarre, to be honest, Sir.”

“Just ‘Raoul’. I don’t like the ‘Sir’, unless you’re in trouble. But bizarre, hm. How so?”

“This is a strange place! Knights who say call ‘em by their first name, wizards that light tinder, and nobles and royalty dressed like normal folk—”

The Queen, and the Knight Commander both chuckled simultaneously. “Thayet, are we really that bad? I thought trying to be like real people was what the Crown aimed for. Equality as much as possible by social boundaries.”

“I thought that, too.” Thayet turned to Daine amused. Sir Raoul got distracted by two other knights who came looking for him. “Alanna told me you were going to be a refreshing gem.”

“So you do get along well with the Lioness.” Thayet looked confused by her statement. Daine was quick to explain. “I mean, considering that she’s the King’s Champion, and you and the King…” she trailed off, wishing she had kept her mouth shut instead.

Thayet gave her a swift searing, almost wary look. “Me and the King?” Daine blushed in horror. The crease in Thayet’s forehead smoothed out. “We’re happy in our own way.”

Daine almost felt sick at the notion that she had just offended the Queen of Tortall. But Thayet smiled affectionately at her after a minute. “I hope that clears up any confusion. Come on, we’ll forget that little misunderstanding and grab a bite to eat. There you can tell me about your travels from Galla to Corus.”

Somehow, Daine was still left somewhat confused.

-

Daine cursed herself, stupid, stupid girl! Why didn’t I just keep the damned bow nearby? The Stormwings were closing in on her, and though grateful for the help of the horses and dogs, she feared for their safety too.

Zhaneh Bitterclaws was a menace, and her Stormwings could easily damage the weaker of Daine’s defendants.

Moments later, the arrows shot by Onua accompanied the sparkling black fire that arched towards the dark morning sky, which elegantly but precisely struck the Stormwings in its target. Before Daine could sigh in relief, an additional flock of Stormwings crowed into the fight…and her body locked in terror.

How many of them were there?!

Then Darkmoon came, saddled and trailing his reins. He leaped to seize a Stormwing by the leg. Shaking his prize like a terrier, he snapped its neck. Other war-horses followed. Behind them ran Sarge in only a breechclout, armed with a fistful of javelins. Each time he threw, a Stormwing went down.

Daine could see their attackers being assailed in pairs or trios. The extra help was balancing the odds, but the Stormwings were far from defeated yet. When Daine’s hope threatened to fall, purple fire broke into the fray, and Daine had never been more appreciative that the Lioness was also Champion than then.

The purple fire twisted around Numair’s black lightning like a vine, dusting their enemies in two. Unexpectedly a thunderous explosion of power overtook all the commotion, and everyone—Daine, her companions, the Stormwings—all tried to cover their ears from the force.

The tortured shrieks of the enemies were trapped by the magnetic blue magic that caused Numair’s face to relax in relief.

Daine could feel Numair’s tiredness. The sapphire fire that was produced in waves by the tall bearded man behind the fence, were turning into small hurled bolts that gradually defeated all the remaining fiends in the air. Daine’s bones seemed to soften out of exertion, and she slumped, her hand wiping the sweat on her forehead.

She joked with Numair, but as he closed his eyes to calm himself down, she turned her attention to Onua, who looked free of any injuries from Daine’s perspective. The K’mir woman was resting on Tahoi as she watched the others. In front of Onua, Alanna was leaning heavily against the bearded man who’s blue magic was slowly fading.

The man either didn’t notice the Lady Knight’s weight, which was probably considerably less than normal because her usual armour was absent, or he was used to Alanna utilizing him as a post. They must have been out riding when the attack happened, because they both wore riding clothes.

Minutes later, as she dragged herself back to the main camp, she watched entertained as Darkmoon approached Alanna’s bearded friend, and butt his head against the man’s chest strongly. The notion knocked a resting Alanna from her perch against the tall man’s side onto the ground, and the man laughed as Alanna sprung up quickly, her face red with anger.

-

She carried out several tasks for the rest of the day. By supper time, exhaustion had taken control and she was ready to roll into her bed, her bow already prepared nearby. She had learnt her lesson well, and had even packed extra arrows. When her friends departed after their meal to attend their lessons, Onua pulled her from the Mess Hall.

Daine nearly protested when they went in the opposite direction to her room. “There’s somebody who’d like to meet you.” Onua explained. The woman knocked on a door and without waiting for an answer, pushed Daine forward and followed closely behind. “I brought her. Are we late?”

“I just got here.” A warm male voice spoke.

Daine was suddenly very awake. The most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on sat at the table, his eyes curious and attentive as he watched the servant place a freshly baked cake in front of him. As it was being sliced in perfectly equal proportions, he looked up at them with a grin, and Daine wanted to melt to the floor in satisfaction. Just being able to be face to face with the sapphire-eyes and blue-black hair was enough for her.

Her thirteen-year-old heart started beating loudly, and she worried if anyone else in the room could hear it.

Standing to his feet, his soaring height and athletic physique made her think of the rare rich chocolate her Ma had given her as treat when she was still alive. A blush formed on her cheeks at the chance thought.

“You must be Daine. You may not remember me from before—you were busy.”

Her eyes focused on him intently, examining his face until her memory clicked, and she inhaled sharply. “You were with Ala—Sir Alanna earlier, sir. The one with the blue magic.” Her voice shook, as she realised exactly how young the man was. She had assumed he was much older, but seeing him now, his jaw as smooth as a babe’s bottom, she was sorely mistaken. He didn’t seem a day over thirty.

Her hands were twisted nervously as he stood and pulled out a chair for her in courtesy. “That’s right. Help yourself to some dessert.”

Two more servants entered, a pitcher of juice and a bowl of strawberries and cherries being added to the table. “Your request, your Majesty.” The servants bowed deeply to the man, and he replied in appreciation before the servants left the room quietly.

The sapphire-eyed enchanter took a few seconds to choose which of the identical slices of cake, that he had been watching so carefully, that he would take.

“Gods above! You’re the King!”

King Jonathan of Tortall smirked, then waved his hand casually. “It’s alright—please sit. Otherwise good manners say I have to get up again, and I’m tired.”

As Daine was standing in half-mortification and half-amazement, the door was flung open loudly.

“You sound old, Jon. And I’m tired.” Alanna the Lioness mimicked as she strolled into the room casually. “You should stand. You’re the King—don’t be so spoiled.”

Jonathan winced as Alanna’s remark pierced the tension, unaware of the impact that her interruption and chiding of the King had caused in the young girl trembling in her chair. Daine gaped as the Lady Knight plucked the cake slice in King Jonathan’s hand and finished it in three large bites.

The King went slightly pink in embarrassment, and Daine felt her heart go out to him… if it hadn’t already. Onua’s shoulders were quaking with suppressed humour beside her.

As Alanna picked up another piece, she eyed Jonathan and then Daine in suspicion. “What? I was hungry. Besides, Jon, haven’t you just had dessert?” And the knight took a bite as she sat on a spare chair, legs casually stretched out in front of her to cross at the ankles, and her elbows were carelessly tilted.

Alanna sat like a boy, or rather like a sprawled prince, not that Daine was too surprised by that. She just couldn’t comprehend how extraordinarily real this woman was.

“You should be more reverent in the King’s presence, Alanna.” Onua proposed amused.

King Jonathan agreed. “She’s right, Alanna. You’ll scare Daine away.”

Alanna bared her teeth. “Daine likes me just fine, Sire. She doesn’t insult me by hinting at ridiculous suggestions, such as, I don’t know, me needing to sit more along the likes of a lady.” The last word was said in disgust and Daine hid a grin. The King tried not to look too exasperated at his Champion.

That was the end of the playful banter, on the other hand. The rest of the conversation flowed onto more important topics. Numair wondered through the door at some point in the conversation that followed. It took Daine time to swallow the concept that she was sitting at a table, sharing dessert and revealing parts of her life story to the most influential characters in Tortall’s politics.

And they wanted her, Veralidaine Sarrasri, to aid them by means of her wild magic.

The King’s hopeful eyes were enough to convince her to agree, and, it didn’t hurt anybody that she was thrilled by the pleasure on the King’s handsome face. Alanna and Onua looked on knowingly; Onua patting Daine’s back and the Lioness rolling her eyes good naturedly after Jonathan and Numair departed.

-

The first time she came across the Crown Prince, her hackles rose at the unknown energy. The air tinged with power, raw and immense, that she almost missed the young boy who was watching her silently from the stable doors. He was so small that Daine had to blink repeatedly to make sure she had company.

“Hullo.” She said, summoning her friendliest smile.

The boy took a moment to survey her, calculating if he could trust her. Darkmoon’s affections seemed to erase the boy’s doubts. Walking slowly, his proud and elegant walk impressed her, and a miniature but fake long sword hung from his waist. A black and white striped stuffed animal was tucked under the boy’s arm; it was easily more than half the boy’s size.

When he halted before her and Darkmoon, he looked up and his unmistakeable raven hair and brilliant sapphire eyes confirmed for her the validity of his presence, and also hinted at who he belonged to.

She had been wondering recently if the King and Queen had any children. They were still fairly young, even though girls were having babies as young as fifteen and sixteen.

“That’s Darkmoon. He likes sweets.” He announced, and Daine murmured her agreement.

“I know. He’s special, isn’t he? His main goal is to protect your family.”

When the boy only offered a nod, Daine shifted awkwardly, trying to get him to speak. “Who’s your friend?” She inclined her head towards the large stuffed cat in his grip, hoping to engage him in conversation.

“His name is Faithful. He’s my best friend, besides my Da. He protects me, too.”

Daine’s heart warmed at the boy’s obvious worship of his father. If she was the Crown Prince, she’d adore King Jonathan too. Suddenly, she remembered something. “I like animals. Sir Alanna told me once that she had a cat, who she loved too. If I remember correctly, he was named Faithful, as well.”

“Yes, I know. She lent me his name after Uncle Gary told me ‘bout Squire Alan and his cat.” Then the young prince frowned at Daine. “But my Faithful isn’t a cat.”

“Oh.” Daine squeaked, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, he just looks like one.” How could she get something like this wrong? She thought miserably. The boy’s magic flickered with his emotions.

“I’ll show you.” As he placed Faithful on the hay between them, Daine wanted to pat his head when she saw how hard he was trying to make his inanimate friend move. She was about to assure him that it was alright, when white-silver lightning crackled the air gently, and the animal glowed and expanded, until Daine reared back in terror, as did Darkmoon.

A massive black panther stood in Faithful’s place, and it stretched its magnificently terrifying jaw in a low snarl. It curled protectively around its master causing the Prince to disappear behind its fur. Before Darkmoon’s silent fear could have him jumping in a frenzy to escape, white-silver magic reduced the growling panther into an inert toy once again.

Daine stayed frozen in place not knowing what to do as shudders racked her body in shock. The knuckles gripping onto Darkmoon’s reigns were white. She chanted a new mantra in her mind: I will never call…Faithful…a cat ever again.

During that time, the boy had moved closer and approached Darkmoon. His hands were extended in a gesture of surrender and peace. “I’m sorry, Darkmoon.” He whispered, acutely shy and aware of Daine’s scrutiny. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Honest!” Taking timid steps towards the Prince, Darkmoon folded his legs and bowed to accommodate the boy’s height. He nuzzled the Prince’s neck, and licked the boy’s cheek.

In a moment that would stay locked in Daine’s memory forever, the boy swung himself on the war-horse’s mane and climbed onto Darkmoon’s bare back. Gently, as if knowing that the heir to the throne sat on his back, Darkmoon carefully rose to full height, ensuring a secure balance for the son of the King that his mistress served. Daine was in stunned awe. She had never seen anything like it.

This Crown Prince would be—no, she revised—he was indestructible. He had a King and Queen for his parentage, the Gift gloriously overflowing from his hands, a vast and advancing kingdom for his future to control, as well as a faithful panther and a legendary lioness standing guard over him.

Wonders would truly never cease. Not in Tortall, they didn’t.

Irritated female voices soon echoed in the air. “Your Highness! Your Highness! Come here now.” They were clearly minding the boy, and Daine snorted.

The young boy’s eyes suddenly lit in panic and mischief. When he held his arms out to her from his post on Darkmoon’s back, Daine clumsily took the boy in her arms. He wriggled his legs, and she complied to his silent demand, planted his feather-weight body on the floor before he took off grinning.

In that second, she saw only a lively five-year-old wearing a mask of pert chaos. “Bye, Daine!” he called behind him as he zipped away, his toy sword clunking alongside his trusty toy panther. Only when she turned back to Darkmoon a minute later, did she realise that she had never told him her name, nor did she ask for his. She groaned as she suddenly recalled Queen Thayet’s words.

‘Word travels fast here. You’ll get used to it.’ Clearly, for Daine, it would take longer.

-

Buri was grumbling under her breath as she slowed. Although she didn’t voice her question, Daine wondered why Buri’s packs were so heavy and visibly close to bursting open. She found it peculiar, especially since Sarge and Buri and Onua had insisted on packing lightly.

Somewhere along their track to Pirate’s Swoop, Sarge had impatiently taken the heaviest two of Buri’s packs and attached it to his own saddle.

Buri had protested that she could carry it herself, but Sarge’s silent look had won. The nasty face Buri made discreetly behind the black man’s back had Numair and Daine keeping their laughter in until Sarge had moved out of ear shot to the front of the Riders’ lines.

The K’mir woman had remained at the pace Daine and Numair rode, and it was in this time that Daine learnt of how Buri had come with Thayet to Tortall. She was told in detail about the Dominion Jewel, and Daine knew that she would one day like to glimpse it in action.

Although the King may be the only one capable of wielding it, Buri voiced her own beliefs. The woman was firm in her conviction that when the time came to hand it down to the Crown Prince, the boy would exert it as easily as if it were a plaything. Daine felt a small shiver snake down her back as she was briefly reminded of that raw white-silver power. Numair agreed wholeheartedly.

As it approached midday, and the road narrowed to lead into thick forest that crowded both left and right—their discussion was cut short.

“I’ll keep the Queen company.” She nodded towards where Thayet and Alanna were leading. “Stay alert.” She advised.

Daine turned to Numair for clarification.

“Precautions are necessary. It’s better to be prepared for any surprises that may jump out of the trees.” Numair’s eyes were carefully trained around him, and she knew that he would feel a lot better if he could release the black magic under his hands to form protective walls around their party.

Ahead, Alanna rode at the helm and barked orders to the riders; Thayet, Buri and Onua flanking her. Daine frowned for a while, but then shrugged when she realised that the red-head was just protecting the Queen.

Punching Numair’s sleepy arm, she joked. “I’ll ask our furry friends to tell us of any…lurking guests.”

They all needed to get to their destination with no scratches. As for their responsibilities; one of them included keeping every hair in Thayet’s elegant braids in place. The Queen’s Riders hadn’t been given the namesake for nothing.

-

Pirate’s Swoop stood dauntingly; it was a solid castle surrounded by impressive walls. Daine had thought that nothing surpassed the Palace’s glory in Corus…but this came awfully close. She had long stopped trying to take in the Royal Palace in one glance, and resigned herself instead to think of it as a city within the city.

The Baron of Pirate’s Swoop evidently kept his home in fighting order. She heard Onua and Numair sigh in reprieve, but Daine was too busy admiring the picturesque formidability around her. They may be used to it, but Daine was looking forward to exploring every inch of this domain.

“Welcome to Pirate’s Swoop, Daine.” Buri smirked, her horse being relieved of the burden as servants took Buri’s belongings into Alanna’s residence.

A man in gold-trimmed brown ran up to Thayet, bowing repeatedly as he talked to her. Thayet signalled Buri, and the second-in-command turned in her saddle. “Riders, this way!” She and Sarge led the trainees to long, low buildings along the wall: stables by the look of one, and the guard barracks.

Still in a daze, she walked faster to catch up with Onua.

Movement caught her eye: a flag being run up on one of the three towers. When the breeze caught it, she grinned: it was a gold lioness rampant, on a red field, the same as Alanna’s shield. On the tower next to it was a brown flag decorated with a gold key.

“No flag for the Queen?” she asked.

Onua had the strangest look on her face, and Daine wondered if there was something wrong with her query.

“—bad enough the whole palace knows where the summer training camp is, without crying it from the towers. George has made this place strong, but why ask for trouble if you don’t need it?” Numair’s voice drawled from behind them. “But the Lioness Rampant is literally a red mark for enemy spies, or attack, for that matter. You don’t need the royal flag for that.”

Daine was slightly baffled. Onua still had a bewildered expression as she gazed at Daine, and the girl back-pedalled—rethinking over Numair’s words. In the end, she smirked, knowing that the King’s Champion attracted more than enough trouble than Jonathan or Thayet would have preferred.

Additional movement in the air had all three of them turn to watch as the Royal emblem in question ascended the third, and now occupied, tower. The vivid blue whipped against the suddenly harsh winds.

Onua shook her head, as Numair whistled. “Well, guess I was wrong. Here comes troub—”

“Of all the gods! Jonathan of Conte! You are a dead ki—” Alanna’s furious swearing could be heard in all corners of the fortress.

“Come on, Daine. We came at the right time.” An excited Numair took her elbow in his large hands, pulling her away from Onua. The prospect of seeing an enraged Lioness, and the ensuing confrontation seemed to perk him up. “Have you got your battle armour ready?” He queried. Her uncertain look made him chuckle.

Onua had lost the confusion. It must have been cleared, for she was sporting a wide smile at Daine. “Oh Daine. You’re in for a big surprise.”

Come what may, Daine didn’t feel too thrilled.

-

As they entered the stables, her eyes immediately swung to a livid Alanna. The Lady Knight stood straight, her feet firmly planted, one hand on her waist as the other pointed accusingly at the spectacular war-horse that towered over her.

Darkmoon was whining from his stable two doors down. Alanna ignored him; but was instead interrogating the black beauty with the gold mane and tail. Thayet, Buri, several stable boys, and two wide-eyed servant girls all stood around—watching the show with varying degrees of amusement.

“Where’s your master?!” The Lioness demanded. “When I lay my hands on him, he’ll be wishing he ne—”

“And what’s this?” The voice was strong and amused.

Whipping around, Daine found a tall, attractive brown haired man with twinkling eyes leaning against the gate to the stables. He was dressed casually, and Daine knew immediately who he was. The Baron, Alanna’s husband.

Alanna’s face softened faintly and an almost guilty expression descended her face. The knight was about to open her mouth, when another voice broke through the conversation.

“This would be my fault, I suppose.”

Jonathan of Tortall walked determinedly from the other entrance, and Daine’s heart picked up speed. He smiled at everyone in greeting, with only the stable boys and servant girls bowing in formality along with Daine. His eyes stalled before bravely swinging to the now re-angered Alanna. Daine didn’t blame him.

She’d rather clean horses’ droppings than be at the receiving end of the Lioness’ fury.

The King didn’t waste time. “Lady Knight, do not place your anger on Tempest. He’s exhausted and not as young as Darkmoon. We agreed that you would reign in your…feelings,” Daine was sure he was going to say temper, but like everyone else in the room, the King wanted to escape unscathed, “…until the object of your anger is in sight and you can settle things diplomatically.”

“The ‘object of Alanna’s anger’ would be you, Jon.” Numair calculated.

At the same time George had muttered under his breath, “’Object of your anger’.” He scoffed. “Nay, ‘victim’ sounds more honest.” Daine had to bite down on her lip hard to squash the giggle that was threatening to erupt.

“The object of my anger is in sight. I can guarantee it.” Alanna’s violet eyes were staring right at the King.

“Settle down.” George suddenly commanded. “My lovely wife is home and I’d like to celebrate that with no troubles.”

Everyone laughed, as Alanna huffed and George grinned charmingly before he strode forward, curved an arm around a blushing Thayet and pulled her into his hold before turning them so that his back faced everyone. Applause and teasing filled the air as he kissed her in earnest.

“Mama! Mama!”

The loud patter of footfalls were so sudden, that a gawping Daine felt dizzy as a bunch of children rushed into the stables—three of them aiming for the kissing couple, and an excited Joden (dressed in gleaming silver chain mail) ran straight for the King’s Champion; Faithful thrown onto to the ground, forgotten.

Alanna grunted as Joden’s tiny body slammed into her legs. To everyone’s entertainment, Alanna fell back completely onto the hay, taking Jonathan and Thayet’s son into her arms for a fierce hug.

Daine reached out a hand to grab Numair’s arm, her head whirling in absolute confusion. Numair turned wise dancing eyes in her direction, “They are overwhelming, aren’t they?”

The girl nodded, not trusting herself to speak. The laughs of delight came from a now kneeling Thayet, as she was covered in kisses by three brunette children.

“You’d think they were brought up in a barn, wouldn’t you? Climbin’ on their ma like she was a hobby-horse.” George told Daine. “You must be Daine. Jon was telling me ‘bout you. That’s a mighty admirable task you’re doing, helpin’ us in this time.”

Daine blushed, wondering if her throat would ever feel her saliva again.

“This is Baron George of Pirate’s Swoop.” Numair introduced. Grinning, he clasped the older man’s hands. “George, as you know, this is Daine. She’s Onua’s new assistant.”

“Ah—I knew there was more than what the King had mentioned vaguely.”

In the corner of her eyes, she could see Alanna transferring a bouncy Joden into the King’s arms. Joden whooped triumphantly as he was lifted high before taking his seat on his father’s shoulders. It was then that Thayet, rosy-cheeked, looked up.

“I thought only monogamy was allowed in Tortall!” Daine blurted, having had enough of the madness around her. She didn’t have the time to think if her outburst was rude.

All talk ceased instantly, and a concerned Thayet frowned. “You’re right, Daine. Is there something wrong?”

Daine couldn’t control her next words any more than she could control time. “How can you be married to His Majesty as well as to Baron George?”

“Eh?” George managed, taken aback.

Numair was gawking at Daine as if she had sprouted a flower on her head. She gulped loudly, trying to say the right words. “I’m sure Lady Alanna doesn’t mind sharing her husband with the Queen—which is very strange—not that I’m saying it is—”

“Of course Lady Alanna doesn’t mind.” Numair spoke curtly, humour laced in his confused tone.

Daine’s stomach felt funny. “Queen Thayet is very beautiful.” She murmured, hoping her compliment would redeem her blundering self in front of all these people. Instead it resulted in everyone’s comments rushing out simultaneously.

“Queen Thayet?”

“Wait—my wife isn’t the Queen.”

“Mithros! I understand now.”

“Daine, Thayet isn’t the Queen.”

Daine was pretty sure her eyes would fall out of their place. “Really? What! Then who?!”

Her eyes darted around completely, until her eyes landed on the only laughing occupant in the room. Alanna the Lioness, King’s Champion, winked at Daine. “No I don’t mind sharing my husband with Lady Alanna.” She joked.

“You’re not the Queen!” Daine accused, refusing to believe.

George threw back his and let out a hearty laugh. A split second later, everyone else joined in as Daine turned beet red in horror and mortification.

George turned to the pink-faced Lioness, and an old fondness appeared in his eyes. “I told you it would be unbelievable, lass.”

“What’s so funny?!” Joden demanded, and George’s daughter—a tall, exotic beauty (like her Ma) of perhaps six or seven—backed up the Prince. When only further laughter greeted his question, the young Prince directed his gleaming blue eyes to Daine expectedly.

Only then did Daine recognise the power behind this boy’s presence. His quirky grin from the first time she met him flashed before her eyes, and she could only think of one thing, one person to describe its fiery mischief: Alanna the Lioness.

That served as the catalyst that opened the gates to Daine’s memories for the past month and a half. It explained the extravagant wedding band on Alanna’s ring finger, the King’s and Alanna’s matching riding outfits on the morning of the Stormwing attack, Alanna plucking the cake from the King’s hands, Faithful’s namesake, Buri’s heavily packed bags, and finally, the lack of respectful bowing or royal address in Thayet’s presence.

All this unlocked certain pieces of conversation that now took on a new and different meaning for Daine.

‘He says it’s a bore when I’m not around. As if he doesn’t have enough going on.’

‘This is the throne of the most controversial and eclectic monarchy in all of the Eastern Lands.’

‘Me and the King? We’re happy in our own way.’

‘But the Lioness Rampant is literally a red mark for enemy spies, or attack, for that matter. You don’t need the royal flag for that.’

Daine came to only one conclusion. I’m a fool.

-

Thayet smiled at Daine’s hesitant stance at the doorway. The girl suddenly turned embarrassed, despite the fact that her earlier misjudgements had been excused and forgotten. Her knuckles gripped the door defensively in front of her body.

Thayet chuckled, shifting a sleeping child in her arms. “Come in, Daine. You’re a welcome and favoured guest in my home.”

Nodding, Daine opened the door further and slipped in, quietly closing the door behind her automatically. When she faced Thayet again, she froze.

Alanna of Tortall sat in one of the chairs opposite Lady Thayet, a baby’s bottle in her hands as she watched Thayet closely. The Queen was robed in a thin shimmering skin-tight gold jacket, and loose white silk trousers. Jewelled slippers twinkled in the light, and her copper hair had been pinned up in a knot at the top of her head to reveal violet ear bobs. She might not have been wearing a dress, nor any makeup; but Daine thought Alanna the Lioness had never looked more regal than at that moment.

“Daine.” The Queen waved, and Daine responded automatically with a grin, but remembered that she was facing a monarch—the correct one this time. Her awkward bow caused the two women to chuckle.

“Stop that. I was hoping that it wouldn’t change things. I hoped wrong.” A wrinkling of her nose followed. The Queen’s mirth-filled eyes subdued. “In truth, I was glad that you weren’t aware of my other duty.”

“What other duty do you have other than being Queen?” Thayet wanted to know.

Jonathan’s wife snorted. “I’m a Knight before I’m anything else. At least, in here I am.” She tapped her chest.

“You are, your Maj—Alanna.” Daine quickly amended. The grin that the Queen directed at her transformed the luxuriously-garbed woman back into ‘just Alanna’ in Daine’s eyes. The same Alanna who killed spidrens in two slices with her sword; the same Alanna who sat like a boy; the same Alanna who joked and lost her temper all in the same breath.

Thayet spoke then, her voice in awe. “I’m amazed at how long you’ve gone without knowing.”

Daine blushed again, wondering that herself. “A few things actually. Prince Joden for one.”

“Oh, I agree.” Thayet replied. “Alanna’s son looks so much like Jonathan. He may look exactly like his father; however, that energy is all Alanna.”

Alanna sighed. “Joden is his father’s. I don’t know what to do with either of them.” That roused giggles from both Daine and the Baroness. “But, he’s everything I want in a son and more. There was a time when I didn’t care a lot about children, yet he makes me so proud. My father says Joden may be small now—but in two, three years—he’ll be following in his father’s footsteps, shooting up towards the sky.”

“He’s terribly intelligent, but all that wisdom pent up is let free through his knack for…mischief.” Thayet shifted as the child in her arms moved. “Goddess knows that Kara plays a big part in that.” Kara was Thayet’s eldest; the beautiful six-year-old that inherited her father’s twinkling eyes.

Alanna moaned in remembrance. At Daine’s questioning glance; Alanna elaborated. “Kara wears a certain pair of white ribbons in her hair every day without fail. Once, Joden stole them and hid them from her as a joke. When he refused to return them, Kara told him that he could keep them since his purple eyes made him resemble a girl anyway. He gave them back straight away, but for months after he sported blue eyes. We could never figure out how he had done it.”

“Joden had purple eyes…naturally?” Daine croaked.

“Yes. It wasn’t until Numair came back after a two-month absence that it returned back to its natural colour.”

“Numair used the Gift?”

It was Thayet who answered this time. “He wished. Numair’s magic was rejected by Joden. I think it shocked Numair more than anyone else. And Numair is powerful. A few days later Numair said the words that did the trick over dinner.” Thayet grinned and then proceeded to recite Numair’s small speech word for word. “‘Your Highness, you forget who owns those purple eyes. The bravest and most legendary knight in all of Tortall. It’s not a girl’s eyes, Prince Joden. Purple eyes are the eyes of heroes.’ I’ll never forget that.”

Daine felt a little butterfly flutter nervously in her stomach as she thought of Numair speaking those words to the Heir.

“That man is far too charming for his own good.” Thayet remarked with a sigh. Alanna laughed as Daine considered such a notion for the first time.

“Anyway, Joden occasionally reverts back to the blue when he meets new folk for the first time. I think he gets worried if people will think the same as Kara. Raoul—Sir Raoul of Goldenlake—he’s the Commander of the Own, tells Joden all the time that he has nothing to worry about. I think he just needs the assurance.” Alanna suddenly rose from her chair as a baby’s cry tore into the room.

The door was banged open, and George of Pirate’s Swoop headed straight for the child in his wife’s arms, saluting Daine and Alanna in acknowledgement.

“Now, that’s our Princess. You’re too lovely to be crying.” He crooned, as he carefully took the squirming babe in his arms. “Shh. You’ll be alertin’ your Da, and we all know how much of a hog he is.”

“Watch what you say, Baron. That’s the King you speak of.” King Jonathan warned from the doorway, but his comical tone destroyed the stern look on his face. “And if I recall correctly, that’s my crying daughter you’re holding. So hand the Princess over.”

Daine’s mirth ended abruptly. And I thought the surprises were over! The Crown Princess was in her midst!

Winking at Daine, George made his decision. “Never.” And taking Thayet’s hand, he dashed out of the room, the baby still in his arms. Thayet’s tinkling laugh echoed through the hallways.

The King sighed and he looked frustratingly over at his wife. Alanna only laughed at him. “George is right. But you’ll get your turn after dinner. Thayet wrestled Ara from me as soon as the last drop of milk vanished.”

“After dinner?” The King moaned. “But I was planning on other things after dinner.” He whispered the last part, hoping Daine wouldn’t hear.

Unfortunately, she did.

“Jon!” Alanna’s red cheeks mirrored Daine’s own. The carpet seemed very interesting all of a sudden. “Let’s go to eat dinner. And we’ll take our time to do just that. There’s no hurry.”

Daine giggled at the Queen’s words as Alanna grabbed her arm and walked at a snail’s pace out of the room. The King growled in frustration behind them.

-

Daine sat relaxed, the room quiet as she waited for Sir Myles of Olau to sit comfortably in the chair beside her. A low fire burned in the hearth, warming the room and casting a dim light.

Skysong lay sleepily on her lap, the dragon’s eyes watching curiously as Sir Myles arranged the blankets around his granddaughter. Princess Araella of Conte’s big, blinking violet eyes watched Skysong just as intently.

“Da, da, da, da.” The baby whimpered, her chubby arms flailing and reaching for something out of her grasp. Daine knew it was the eleven-month-old’s universal call for the father who adored her.

Her grandfather hushed her, his beard tickling the baby easily into laughter. “Your Da is on progress. You’ll be seeing him soon, though, won’t you? Tomorrow we’ll be going home. He might be there already, having beaten us home.”

Daine watched captivated. She pondered about her own grandfather. “How long does Progress last, Sir Myles?”

The man looked up, a thoughtful expression on his aged but kindly face. “Usually less than a month. Their delay this time wouldn’t affect it, so this little lady might be reunited with her Da before long.” That explained the King’s presence when the Riders first arrived in Pirate’s Swoop those few weeks ago. She had wondered about that, confused, since Sarge had said that the reason the Rider’s were on training camp at that time was because the King had left for progress.

Unexpectedly, the baby sat up in Sir Myles’ lap and caught Daine’s attention. “Bab a nng g! Rugh rugh ba ye ye?” she asked.

Daine put on her most enthusiastic face. “Yes, Princess Ara! I’m going with you tomorrow.”

“Fr chu, ba da coh?” Araella further asked her new friend in concern.

Daine went to reassure her Crown Princess. “I promise! I’ll be going home with you, too.”

“Mg toot iki da, da, da, da ro brgn jyo!”

“Yes! Your Da promised me my own room at the palace.” Daine refrained from telling the baby that she also had a room in Pirate’s Swoop, and one set aside in Numair’s tower. She giggled then, knowing that Alanna had been right when she said that her husband would do anything for Daine if she needed a place to live.

The baby grinned, obviously satisfied that Daine and Skysong would also be at the Palace. Patting her grandfather’s cheeks, the baby snuggled closer and closed her eyes.

Sir Myles whistled in admiration. “I’m certainly glad you’re coming home with us.” He whispered to her.

Daine blushed. “Her adorable smile is enough to win my heart.”

“Apparently so is her nonsensical talk. You’re the only one, besides Jon and George, who can carry a conversation with her and not look like a fool.”

Speaking of George, Daine remembered with a grin the man’s impatient outburst a week before the King left for progress.

‘Enough! Why do you two hide here?’ George asked the two monarchs before him. ‘You have a damned castle waiting for you in Corus! Not t’mention a Summer Palace, and Conte, Trebond and Olau waiting in the wings!’

Thayet had placed a soothing hand on the Baron’s shoulder. ‘Pirate’s Swoop is closer, dear. And I don’t see you complaining when Jonathan is over here sharing a wineskin or a bottle of whisky or brandy. You two are brothers, even if not by blood, remember?

George had groaned as an unmoving Jonathan finally relaxed. ‘Why do you torture me so, Princess?’ He asked Thayet. Turning his attention to Jonathan, he clucked his tongue. ‘You’re lucky that Gary an’ Raoul had to help Duke Gareth in Naxen, or else you wouldn’t be here idling ‘round for two weeks. Thank Mithros you leave in a few days—else my patience would have you outside of the Swoop’s gates, King or no King.’

Two days later, Sir Myles of Olau showed up and Daine met Alanna’s adoptive—and George’s step—father for the first time. The King, thanking his luck, was quick to hide behind his father-in-law for the remainder of his stay at the Swoop.

The dragon in her lap cut her reminisce short. ‘Kit’ as Daine had started to call her, let out a soft series of trills before her eyes lulled to shut. Daine yawned. Onua had strictly ordered her to sleep early since their long ride back to the capital would commence the next morning.

She had disobeyed, opting instead to keep Sir Myles company. The past few evenings had seen her in this same activity; Sir Myles was vastly learned on Tortallan history and politics and his oratory was impressive. She was interested in recent history, and she patiently waited for when he would tell the tale she was anticipating the most.

“Now, where were we?” he asked, kissing Ara’s hair gently.

“You just finished with King Jonathan’s coronation, and the role of the Dominion Jewel.”

“Ah yes. Now the next historical, or more so political, mark following that would be Alanna’s appointment as Queen. Jonathan had been ruling alone up to this poi—”

“Wait!” Daine cried; her attention suddenly piqued despite the large yawn that escaped her mouth. “I want to know how it got to that, Sir Myles. You would have witnessed it in person since Alanna’s your daught—”

“Yes.” It was impossible to tell if Sir Myles wanted to relay the tale or just skip to the one about the Queen’s appointment. “But that’s another, different kind of and altogether long story.”

“Please. And I have time, honest.”

“I thought you wanted to know about Tortall’s history?”

“They are making history!”

He scratched the back of his head, contemplating. “I suppose I can. But only if you go to sleep and rest for the night. I’ll start the story tomorrow; we have a long ride ahead of us anyway.”

“Great!” She grinned in triumph but shook her finger sternly, reminding the veteran knight of his promise. Sir Myles just laughed.

She fell asleep as soon as her head hit her bedroll. Her heart was light, knowing that she’d be going home in a few hours. When Onua came to wake her the next morning, the K’mir woman chuckled at the excited smile on Daine’s sleeping face.

-

Author's Note: 19 pages. 8,150 words. A review would be common courtesy :) The backstory that Sir Myles spoke of is now up. Check out Vivat Regina, the prequel to Inside Politics. With that being said, thanks for reading!