The Wicked House of Caroline: Chapter 1 - Dawn in Her Hair

“When was the territory now known as Sagittate of Kadmus put under the control of the Carolines?” The old woman’s voice sounded over the crackling of the fire meant to keep the study room warm.  Thick stone walls didn’t do much to keep out the cold, so thick rugs woven with the wool from long-haired tundra goats were layered on the walls of the round room.

The thin slits that were windows were blocked by animal skin stretched over to keep the frigid wind of the Sacred Valley from piercing the contained warmth inside.  As a result, no light penetrated the room from outside and only oil lamps hanging from the antlers of elk above illuminated the room.

“Sagittate was com...com...made of twelve tribes and unified in 354 after the fifth cycle by Chief Osgarus.  In 589, High Chieftain Anastasia of Caroline brokered an agreement to be part of the Kadmus Kingdom.  In 621, the Carolines led their warriors to defend the kingdom, saving Prince Fredrick, who made High Chieftain Godwin his sworn blood brother.  When he became king in 630, he made Godwin a duke, Sagittate his duchy, and gave the Carolines the title ‘The Noble House of Caroline’.”

The high-pitched voice of a three-year-old girl rushed out the sentence in two breaths.  As soon as she finished the information she’d memorized, she took in a sharp breath.

The old woman’s blue eyes looked at the little girl standing in the center of the room trying to catch her breath.  The corner of her thin lips curled up a bit.

“You need only answer 630,” she said as she walked around the child.  “Unless additional information is necessary, there is no need to give it.”  She stopped behind the girl and gently rubbed her small back.  “Do not try to give such a long answer in a single breath, my lady.  You must keep your health in mind.”

The little girl evened her breathing and gave a small nod.  She shouldn’t strain herself.  If she was out of breath or if her heart was beating too quickly, she could have another ‘flare up’.  Her eyes almost watered thinking of crushing pain and fever sweeping through her body that made it difficult to breathe, let alone move.

She remembered two flare ups in a short three years, and recovery always took a long time.

She took another deep breath.  “I am fine, Madame Lain.”

The old woman looked over her carefully and then nodded when the color seemed to have returned to the child’s face.  “Then, that is all for today.  Tonight, you will review your map of the continent for tomorrow’s exam on Kadmus’ territories and neighbors.”

The child lowered her head and gave a respectful bow to the old woman.  “Yes, Madame Lain.”

“You are dismissed, Lady Rebecca.”

Two little boots stepped down and a little girl in a thick dark green dress with light blue linear embroidered patterns on the hems and cuffs walked to the door.

Her mind was racing with what she could remember of the map so far.  She hadn’t focused much on the southern region and border of Kadmus, so she made a note to review that area in particular after her afternoon nap.

A maid waiting by the door opened it for her and escorted her out, all while she had a pensive look on her little, chubby face.

The halls of the stone fortress-castle nestled on the western side of the Sacred Valley were painted white and oil lamps hung from metal hooks in the ceiling.  Outside of the rooms that were insulated with wool rugs, there was a drop in temperature.

It was not as cold as it was outside.  Sagittate, the Duchy of Caroline, was an arrowhead-shaped peninsula connected to the mainland by a narrow strip of land by its tip.  It was the northernmost point of the kingdom, resulting in long winters with heavy snowfall.

The Sacred Valley was not far from the southern coast.  A river went through the valley and, though it was narrow, it was very deep.  The river was the lifeblood of the territory, as it never froze over, likely due to geysers.

Her brother said that the river was over a crack in the earth and was growing wider, as the sides were moving apart.  Old bridges that once neatly connected both sides would shift and develop gaps and cracks.  If they weren’t repaired, the bridges would collapse.

Due to the deep split in the earth cutting across the peninsula, bihar from deep within the earth permeated the surface, making the air in the territory, specifically in the Sacred Valley, energy-dense.  There was a far larger percentage of people in Sagittate born with biha wells and spirit cores than anywhere else in the kingdom.

In fact, it was far more common than not to have a biha well.

Which was why it was disappointing that she, the first born daughter of the Noble House of Caroline, had neither a biha well nor a spirit core.

Her parents and brother didn’t fuss about it, assuring her that one is not guaranteed a biha well or a spirit core.  Plenty of family members in the past lacked either.

“Left shoulder.”

A crackle was heard as she walked past the inner courtyard of the family’s quarters.  She stopped and looked past the pillars of the portico, looking down at the boy just four years older than her, sending a ball of fire across the yard and on to the padded left shoulder of a metal skeleton used as a practice dummy.

The accuracy was impeccable for a seven-year-old, and while she admired her brother’s skill with fire biha, she couldn’t help but be envious.  She looked down at her chubby hands with some resentment.  No form of biha would ever be exerted and manipulated by them.  Her family had her checked.

“Beks!” The boy below called her name and she looked back into the yard.  Her brother was in his stained training clothes.  His rich, wheat-colored skin matched hers, as did the gray eyes they got from their father.  However, Amadeo Patrick of Caroline had their father’s dark auburn hair.  A bit unruly and with a curl, but a beautiful color.

Her hair also had a slight wave, but it was black, like their mother’s, and wore in duel plaits.  She liked her shiny black hair, except for the portion just above her left eye; an orange streak that appeared out of place.

She lowered her hands and gave a bow to her brother.  “Brother Deo.”

“Are you done with your studies?  Do you want to play?” he asked with a bright, encouraging smile.

As far back as she could remember in her short life, Deo was always enthusiastic about playing, but because she was bedridden half her life, what they could play was limited.  They couldn’t run around like other children.  Because of her, they had to sit and play with her dolls in the comfort and safety of her room.

“I have a test tomorrow and need to study,” she said.

Deo let out a groan and tilted his head back.  “It’s so hard being the child of a duchy....” He said it as if he were the one who had a test the next day.

“Young lord, please pay attention and return to your practice,” the middle-aged soldier training him scolded.  “You are not yet finished with today’s drills.”

For a moment, Beks thought Deo would try to escape, but in the end, he grit his teeth and turned back to the practice dummy.

Bihar didn’t just increase chances of biha wells and spirit cores, but also seemed to make the children of Sagittate develop their minds and motor skills faster than their counterparts on the mainland.  Beks heard maids saying that children on the mainland were still speaking small sentences at age three, but there she was, reciting entire passages from historical texts.

Her brother had better control of his biha element than some adults on the mainland, though it might’ve been because he’d been trained early on.

Their father’s biha element was also fire.

She perked up. At breakfast, he said he wanted to speak to her after her classes.  She looked back and saw that her brother had reluctantly returned to target practice, so she continued along to her father’s study.

It had been a busy time for her parents.  Guests had come from the mainland, which wasn’t normal.  It was too cold and uncomfortable for those not used to the climate, so mainlanders were reluctant to come.  The journey by land was tedious and long, going through a lot of undeveloped terrain.  The journey by sea was much faster, but required sailors experienced with the turbulent northern sea.

If mainlanders came, then it must’ve been something important and couldn’t be discussed via written message or urapearl.

Beks continued on her way across the castle.  It wasn’t very tall, but it was quite wide and part of it was built into the mountainside.  For a little girl who could only get so far with short legs, it was quite a trek.

Her father would likely be in the great room; the main hall of the original fortification; the tower.  She went down a set of spiral staircases, crossed a hall, and then painstakingly climbed another before she reached the open doorway.  As she neared, she heard the heated voices coming from within.

“We made good on our promise for the sake of the child and have given you three years, Duke Caroline.  It seems that now, the young lady is in good health and will be able to travel.”  Beks didn’t recognize the man speaking.

“She is only three years old.”  Her mother’s gentle voice was unusually stern. “And while it has been a few months since her last flare up, it still took over a month for her to recover well enough to leave her bed.  If she has another attack while en route, it would endanger her.”

Beks furrowed her brows as she stopped two steps from the entrance.  She may have excelled in memorization and speech, but she could only guess so much with what she knew of the situation.  Since they said three years old, they were likely talking about her, but she didn’t recall any upcoming travel.

“Her Majesty had sent three of the best doctors in the kingdom to escort the young lady to Kadmium.  When she arrives, she will have the best care of the kingdom to ensure she grows healthy.”  The same man who spoke earlier continued to speak.

Beks dared to step up the last two stairs and peeked into the white-washed room with timber beams in its vaulted ceiling.  Her parents were seated on their high-backed stone thrones with realm knights in their gray and dark blue uniforms on either side of them.  Sagittatens were taller and wider than mainlanders, so as she compared them to the soldiers in orange and black who accompanied the man standing before her parents, she thought they were more impressive.

“Are you willing to make a small child suffer through such a journey?”  Her mother with her warm copper skin looked ready to jump from her seat and throttle the man.  “She is just a child!”

“Her Majesty would’ve brought back Lady Rebecca to Kadmium as soon as she finished weaning had it not been for the young lady’s health.  It is out of concern for Lady Rebecca that Her Majesty waited until she was three to bring her to Kadmium for fostering.”

Beks’ eyes nearly popped out of her sockets.  Fostering?  As in being raised by another person other than her parents?  Before her mind could take in the meaning, her father spoke up.

“Lord Anders, when we were notified of the prophecy, our daughter was just born and we did not agree to have her fostered,” her father said in a firm voice.

Lord Anders held his ground.  “I am afraid it is not an offer, though to be fostered by Her Majesty Queen Letizia would be an honor in itself.  You were made aware that Lady Rebecca would leave for Kadmium once she was healthy enough to travel.  This is a royal order from Her Majesty herself.”

She’d never been told of such a thing. Beks sat down on the step and shut her eyes, trying to remember if anyone ever told her.  Her memory was so good; why was it failing her now?

“An order?  She wants to take my child?” Her mother’s voice turned into a snarl.

“We refuse.”  Her father’s voice had an air of finality around it.  Despite herself, Beks let out a relieved breath.  She wasn’t entirely sure what was happening, but she didn’t want to leave home.

Her relief was short-lived.  Though she was sitting in the stairwell, she could feel the tension in the room become almost suffocating.  She lifted her small hand to her chest, which began to tighten.  The more it tightened, the more alarmed she became.

Something was wrong.  She didn’t know what, but she felt it.

“Your Grace.”  Lord Anders’ voice was low.  “Lady Rebecca is the child prophesied by the Great Oracle before her death.  The entire kingdom is waiting for Lady Rebecca.  Her Majesty is waiting for Lady Rebecca.  If she does not arrive in Kadmium by the fall, it will be grounds for treason.”

For a moment, it was as if all the life in her small body drained to the floor.

She’d studied enough to know what ‘treason’ was and what it came with.  She could hear her father shouting in the great hall, furious that the capital was threatening them to give up their youngest child.

Her breathing grew shallow and she had to shut her eyes and count backwards from ten.  Twice.  When her chest began to loosen, her mind circled through various faces: her parents, her brother, Madame Lain, the realm knights - the Thirnir of Caroline who took her sledding when the weather was good and carried her when she was too weak to walk.

Her life in the Sacred Valley was good because it was peaceful.

With the oppressive air, the shouting, and the arguments flying back and forth, no one seemed to notice the three-year-old girl climbing over the door frame and into the room.  She walked along the side, making her way to her parents’ thrones.

By the time they saw her, it was too late to excuse what they were discussing.

Her father said that when she was born, the duchy celebrated.  Her mother said she was well-loved by her people.  Children were sensitive and when she was outside the castle, she felt that affection.

“You know, Beks,”  Deo had told her a few days ago, when she visited him during his training with a sword.  “In other places, swords are seen as tools to kill, but in Sagittate we see them as tools to protect.  That is our duty to the duchy.”

The great hall seemed to grow quiet as grown adults froze, appearing to be in the midst of coming up with an excuse to explain what she’d just walked into.

Beks took a deep breath, standing before her parents’ seats.  She looked at the middle-aged man in multiple layers of clothing.  He’d come from the mainland, likely the warmer regions, and didn’t seem to know how to keep warm outside of layers.

He must’ve traveled for days for his important task..

She swallowed hard and, like she learned in her classes, she knelt with her right knee on the ground and lowered her head.

“Lady Rebecca Anastasia of Caroline accepts the royal order.”

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20 Years Later
The Old Tower, Kadmium Royal Palace

The sharp, chilling sound of a bell penetrated her sleep and seemed to fill her dark room.  As she gained consciousness and opened her eyes, she saw nothing but darkness.  The drapes were still drawn around her bed, keeping in the heat.

On the other side of the drapes, she could hear the light footsteps of servants.  Lamps were lit, bringing a glow against the drapes as she sat up.

“My lady.”  The nervous voice of one of her maids called out to her. “My lady-”

“I’m awake.”  She reached out and grabbed the edge of the drapes, pulling it to the side and allowing the warm yellow light of the oil lamps to pierce the inner darkness of her canopied bed.  She pushed herself to the edge and slid her legs off the side.

“My lady.”  A maid slipped elegant slippers on her olive feet and another maid stood to the side, holding an embroidered robe at the ready.

“What happened?  How is she?” Her voice was firm as she rose to her feet and held out her arms.  The maid helped put the robes over her, sliding the sleeves over her arms and tugging it up to her chin.

The middle-aged woman who was her head maid had a forlorn look on her pale face as she lowered her eyes and shook her head once.  “Her breathing has become very uneven with long pauses in between.  The doctors and clerics are worried.  Her Majesty has summoned you, Lady Rebecca.”

She grasped the belt around her waist and tied it closed around her as she quickened her speed and headed out of her room.  Her long, black hair with the streak of auburn woven into her tousled braid bounced behind her as she walked down the tile floored hall.

Oil lamps hanging overhead illuminated the stone halls cluttered with paintings, statues, and various decorations showing off the wealth of the royal family.  Even with an oil lamp every few paces and the walls painted white, the light was limited, and shadows were cast against the stone walls of the old castle.

Her head maid followed behind her, still dressed in the gray and white uniform she wore during the day, and two royal guards.  They held open doors for her as they passed through the halls of the Old Tower to cut through a garden courtyard by a central portico to get to the Gilded Hall, the sprawling stone, brick, and glass palace built three generations ago to house the current monarch and their immediate family.

It had numerous interconnected wings, private courtyards, and multiple floors, with the Queen’s bedchambers deep within.  Palace rules prohibited running, so her steps were quick; going as fast as she could without sprinting down the halls.

With each step, it was a struggle to keep her heart calm.  Her hand reached up and touched the thumb-sized metal container hanging over her chest.  If she did have another flare up she’d have her pills with her, at least.  She forced herself to focus.  Now was not the time to be concerned about herself.

“Lady Rebecca.”  She was greeted respectfully by the stewards and staff rooted by the doors to the Queen’s suite.

“Where is Brother Laurence?” she asked as she reached them.  Her gray eyes swept across the crowd and the head steward, Chamberlain Wilton, stepped forward, the tired shadows across his face made worse by the lighting.

“His Highness is already inside.  They are waiting for you, my lady.”  He gave the guard by the door a nod and the guard grasped the metal handles of the door to the Queen’s suite and pulled it open to let her in.

Her maids and the guards with her remained outside as she stepped into the dimly lit room.  The heavy smells of various medical concoctions and incense meant to both act as medicine and hide the stench of a sick body filled the room.

“Beks.”  A dry, hoarse voice came from the massive canopy bed towards the center of the room.  The drapes were hall drawn and tied to the posts, revealing the skinny figure half sunk in pillows and buried with layers of blankets.

Against the yellow light, she could see a pale, gaunt visage with few remnants of the power hungry woman who’d sent a convoy halfway across the kingdom to fetch her simply because some dying old woman in a temple told her that a child resembling her would bring the kingdom to glory.

Whatever conflicts she may have had regarding being ‘fostered’ and hardly seeing her birth family the last twenty years of her life, were pushed to the side.  Her heart tightened as she rushed across the plush rug and reached for the skeletal hand still adorned with gold rings and glistening gemstones.

“Your Majesty,” she said in a choked voice.

The Queen’s blue eyes crinkled a bit and a glint of joy filled them as her cold hand wrapped around the smooth, warm hand of the young woman.  “Beks.”

“She’s here, Mother.”  A man in his late twenties sat on the edge of the Queen’s bed.  Unlike her, he wasn’t dressed in his sleepwear under a robe.  He was wearing the same clothes she’d seen him earlier that evening, when he made her leave to rest as it was late.

He’d told her that he would also retire for the night, but it seemed that he’d stayed with his mother.

“Rebecca, my Beks.”  Despite the croaking voice, the Queen’s tone was filled with affection.  Under normal circumstances, she only called her Rebecca.  It was rare that the Queen called her by her nickname.

“I am here, Your Majesty,” Beks said as she took a seat that Chamberlain Wilton bought for her and placed beside the bed.  “It’s late.  We still have work in the morning.  Brother Laurence will get confused if you’re not there to guide him.”  She forced a bright smile and the thin lips of the frail woman on the bed pulled up into a pained smile of  her own.

“I have been sick...for so long...he should know by now.”  The Queen wheezed and if she were healthier, she might’ve said it with a laugh.  Her eyes swept to her eldest son sitting on the edge of the bed.  “Leave us.”

Laurence, tall with thick, short brown hair and gentle blue eyes, said to be a spitting image of his late father, the Queen’s first consort, didn’t hesitate.  It was as if he’d expected to be told to leave so his mother could speak to Beks.

“If her condition worsens, pull the chord,” Laurence told her in an encouraging voice as he pointed out the gold rope and tassel hanging by the side of the bed.  Beks nodded and ordered the remaining clerics, doctors, and Chamberlain Wilton out of the room.

The heavy door closed behind Beks, and she felt the Queen squeeze her hand with her feeble strength.  It drew her attention back to the woman.  She wouldn’t call her old.  The Queen wasn’t what she considered elderly.  Her hair was still quite dark with just a bit of peppering.

Before her illness, she’d been very active and ate well.  She was a bit plump with a rosy complexion and an intimidating stature.  It was a far cry from the frail woman that seemed to have wasted away in the last few months.

“Beks.”

“I’m here.”

“Beks....” The Queen’s eyes moistened.  “It has been difficult for you, hasn’t it?”

Beks had an urge to jerk her head back with surprise, but years of strict education kept her back straight and her body poised as she remained in her seat.  She didn’t show any emotion other than restrained concern.  The Fourth Prince always commented that she was emotionless and it looked like it pained her to try to show it.

“What do you mean, Your Majesty?”
“I took you...from your family.”

Beks tilted her head to the side, her eyes a bit squinted.  “Yes, you fostered me.”

Taking a child to be raised by another family was quite common in order to strengthen inter-house bonds, though even as she tried to validate being plucked out of her family’s duchy when she was a mere three years old, Beks acknowledged that for fostering by high nobles and the royal family was incredibly rare.

Rare to the point that it was seen as either an act to ensure loyalty from the lower ranked house or the acquisition of a valuable, promising asset.

The fostering of Lady Rebecca of Caroline was the latter.

Regardless, her time with the royal family gave her the best, though somewhat strictest, of everything the Kadmus Kingdom had to offer.  The best academic tutors, the best instructors for everything from manners to riding, and access to the best doctors, cleric healers, and medicine available.

There was a great possibility that she would not be alive at that moment if the Queen did not foster her, and for that alone, Beks had some gratitude.

The Queen stared up at her face that carried little emotion.  Beks was like that because of her and they both knew it.  Her lips tightened into a wry smile.

“You are a good girl.  A smart girl.”  She paused for a moment to even out her breathing.  The Queen closed her eyes and seemed to focus on breathing so she could speak.  She released Beks’ hand from her cold, wrinkled one and pointed to her writing desk across the room.  “Under the writing mat, take the key to open the lower left drawer.”

“All right.”  Obediently, Beks gave the Queen a nod and rose from her plush, embroidered seat.  She crossed the room to the ornate writing desk with the gilded leaf accents.  The main surface of the writing desk had a fitted, hard leather mat and writing board on top.  The Queen’s initials and seal were embossed with gold leaf into the dark leather.

Beks felt around the edges of the table, where the desk and leather met, and lifted a corner.  The key was tucked to one back corner; small and somewhat flat for what it was.  There were a few old books on top of it and she wouldn’t have noticed a key was underneath.

A small click sounded as she unlocked the lower left drawer.  It didn’t have a handle on the outer panel, so she used the key to pull the drawer forward enough to slip her fingers through the top.

Inside was a neat bundle of letters a finger tall.  No envelopes, just folded sheets.  They were bundled together by a pale silk ribbon.

Thinking that the Queen wanted her to bring the letters to her, Beks gathered the bundle in her hand and closed the drawer.  She locked it and slipped the key into her pocket so she could return the letters afterwards.

As she sat back on her seat, the Queen spoke up once more.

“Those are for you,” she said.  Her eyes were red as she looked at the bundle of letters on Beks’ lap.  “I wrote them.”

Beks tilted her head to the side and her brows furrowed a bit as she looked from the Queen to the letters and back.  “You wrote them to me?”

“I don’t have long.”  The Queen closed her eyes and seemed to sink further into the plush bed.  “I have much to tell you.”

Beks lowered her eyes.  “Is there anything I should give to His Highness the Fourth Prince?  Or to the Second or Third?”
The Queen kept her eyes closed, but her chest rose and fell unsteadily.  “No.  Those are for you,” she repeated.  “When I am gone, read them.”

Beks frowned.  “It will be a while, then.  I should return them-”
“Rebecca.”  The Queen called to her.  “I don’t regret taking you.  Though I had my reasons as queen, I do love you as if I birthed you myself.”  She smiled a bit and turned her head in Bek’s direction.  “No child of mine has lived up to what I believed they could do like you have.”

Beks swallowed hard and lowered her eyes, feeling guilty but unsure if it was because of some of her lingering resentment or because the Crown Prince should’ve been the one who the Queen praised at that moment.

“I am only doing what I was taught to do.”

“And you have learned well.  The kingdom is in good hands with you,” the Queen said.  She smiled once more to herself.  “As a ruler, to solidify your power, you must placate your people.  Make them stable and flourish.”

Beks knew this.  If the populace was at least somewhat satisfied, then the chances of revolt would be less.  In addition, stability allowed culture to grow and technology to advance.  They could prepare for emergencies, strengthen their military, and increase their influence with other countries.

She had the same teachers as the Crown Prince on politics, governance, and finance.  She’d been assisting with the kingdom’s yearly budget the last four years, and for the last two, the Queen and Crown Prince allowed her to prepare it herself and then reviewed it.

This trust didn’t just come with her competence and education, but because everyone knew that one day, she would marry the Fourth Prince Luther, and become an official member of the royal family.  She’d take a position to aid her brother-in-law, the Crown Prince, and thus fulfill the prophecy of her birth.

“I will continue to work hard to ensure the stability and improvement of our kingdom,” Beks told the Queen.  It was an automatic response and one she’d often repeat to the Queen as if in confirmation.

The Queen took a deep breath.  “Rebecca...if my sons are unable...you must ensure the stability of the kingdom.”  Her cold hand touched Beks’ once more.  Her pale face and sunken eyes were turned towards Beks, boring into her with an intensity that made her shift uncomfortably.  “Do what you must to protect the people.  They are the source of our wealth.  The source of our power.  Without them, we are nothing.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“By any means necessary, Rebecca.  No matter what personal cost.  The kingdom must come first.”  Her chest heaved and her hand shook.  “Swear to me.”

Beks crinkled her eyes and nodded.  “Yes-”

“Swear to me!” Her grip on Beks’ hand tightened and Beks almost had to grit her teeth to keep from crying out loud at the unexpected strength.  The Queen’s intense eyes locked on her, as if looking into her soul.

“I swear.”  Those were the only words she could muster.

It took another few breaths for the Queen to accept her promise.  Her grip on Beks’ hand lightened and she relaxed.  “Good...good....”  A haunted smile filled her pale face.  “A daughter with dawn in her hair...born where the earth split....”  Beks closed her eyes and the hand on the bundle of letters tightened.  She’d heard those words thousands of times in her lifetime.  “Will bring an age of prosperity and stability to make a kingdom an empire.”

On the eve of her birth, the last Great Oracle’s dying words at the Great Temple prophesied a fated daughter to be born.

The problem was that at the time, the Queen only had three sons: the first, Crown Prince Laurence, from her first husband and consort, King Alexios, former Prince of Paraxes, a kingdom in the south.  Monarchs of Kadmus were allowed two spouses, usually a ‘spouse of convenience’ for political or economic reasons, and then a ‘spouse of choice’ married because of emotional attachment.

The Queen was betrothed to Prince Alexios of a warrior kingdom as a child.  Neither had any issue with the engagement and Paraxes sided with Kadmus against enemy kingdoms.  The Queen Could have married a spouse of choice, but she wanted further stability for Kadmus.  During her childhood, its eastern borders were ravaged by three neighboring kingdoms and had taken a good deal of territory gained in her grandfather’s time due to her own father’s incompetence.

The Queen wanted another political marriage for her second.  It was important that her spouses were not antagonistic towards each other, so she married Prince Alexios’ closest friend and brother in arms, Timur, the youngest Prince of Langshe, a mountain kingdom with sizable natural resources.

Her two husbands dutifully protected Kadmus’ border, and even regained all the lost territory.  From what late Uncle Timur told Beks when she was little, the three of them got along quite well and were friends, as well as marriage partners.  Uncle Timur had given the Queen twin sons, Lazarus and Lucian.

They’d left when she was little, but she remembered them to look like Uncle Timur.  Pale skin, dark eyes, long, straight dark hair.  Beks remembered playing with their long hair.  They were ‘pretty’, she had called them.  Second Prince Lazarus went to a military school and Third Prince Lucian went to study at the Great Temple to become a priest after Uncle Timur died.

With no daughters, the Queen had sent her people across her kingdom to find the ‘daughter with dawn in her hair, born where the earth split’.

They found Rebecca when she was six months old.

The Caroline Duchy’s Sacred Valley sat where the earth split in half by a continental break.  On one side of what appeared to be a narrow river was Greshran and the ground moved southwest.  On the other side was Greshgan and it moved northeast.  The valley has been noted as splitting since ancient times and the Caroline ancestors believed it to be a sacred valley because of this, thus the capital of the duchy was called the Sacred Valley.

The location criteria was met, but what about the daughter?

There were three children born the day the Great Oracle died and said her prophetic words.

Two were daughters.

But only one had dark hair with a streak of orange - the dawn breaking through the night.

Rebecca Anastasia of Caroline, first daughter and second child of Duke Robert Lodewijk of Caroline and Duchess Sybil Patricia Blythouse of Caroline.  The younger sister of Lord Amadeo Patrick of Caroline, and later the older sister of Young Lord Thaddeus Renault and Young Lady Dorothy Philomena.

The latter two, she had not yet even met, as since she arrived to be ‘fostered’ in the capital, Kadmium, she’d never been allowed out further than the city gates.

Part of it was the obvious: she was a destined child and could not be allowed to leave or meet any danger.  The other reason was that she was sick and the Queen spared no expense in her health.

Still, even foster children eventually returned to their birth families.  How would Beks fulfill the prophecy from a backwater duchy where mines, wool, and metal work were the main sources of income?

Tie her to the royal family by engaging her to one of the Queen’s sons.

Crown Prince Laurence was already engaged.  The twins were three, almost four years older than Beks and would’ve been the most suitable.  Unfortunately, by the time Beks arrived in Kadmium, the Queen had her fourth son.

A few months before Beks was born and the Great Oracle made her prophecy, King Consort Alexios died.  The Second Consort, Uncle Timur, said that the Queen became focused on finding the prophesied daughter because she was coping with Alexios’ death.

After Beks was identified, the Queen married her third husband, as due to the death of King Alexios, she could remarry another spouse.  Perhaps it was because she was sentimental at the loss of her first husband and partner that the Queen had married a spouse of choice this last and final time.

Third Consort Petus, the Queen’s second cousin and childhood love.  She had soon become pregnant with Fourth Prince Luther and it was Prince Luther who was engaged to Beks.

The prophesied daughter was tied to the royal family and Beks became a highly trained bird in a very gilded cage.

But she knew her role and she knew how beneficial it would be if she played it well.  Her family received a lot of prestige.  The people got a competent government worker and she was very popular with the city’s citizens.  She didn’t have to worry too much about her illness, as a medical staff was always nearby and when she did have a ‘flare up’, she had medical support at once.

This was the life she knew and it was one she knew others would kill to have.

“Beks.”  The Queen drew her out of her thoughts once more and Beks blinked.  She looked back at the Queen.  “Put the letters in our pocket.”

A strange request, but Beks did as she was told.  The Queen held her hand once more and closed her eyes, appearing calm.  “Your Majesty...how are you feeling?”

“Are you angry at me, Beks?”

“No, Your Majesty.”  It was the truth.  A bit of frustration and resentment, but not anger or hate.  The corner of Beks’ lips tugged up a bit.  “You fed me and wiped my sweat when I was sick.  Spent every night by my side when I arrived.  Sponsored by debut....”

“It is all right to be angry at me,” the Queen said in a resigned, broken voice.  “I know what I did.”  Beks continued to stroke the back of the Queen’s hand with her free one.  “But...thank you.  The kingdom is in good hands.”

“Brother Laurence will prove an excellent king and I will support him whole-heartedly,” Beks told her.

“The kingdom above all, Beks.  Remember.”

“I will.”

“The people should not suffer.”  The Queen’s cold hand began to loosen.  Beks felt her chest tighten.  
“I know.”  Her eyes flickered to the gold cord and tassel just an arm’s length away.   Her hand itched to pull it.

“My daughter...love you....”  The Queen’s breath wheezed and her chest stopped rising.  Beks waited, her hand shaking as the Queen’s hand over it went limp.  She waited for another choked breath to push the Queen’s chest up, but after a few counts, there was nothing.

“Brother Laurence!”  She screamed just before she shot up, grabbed the gold tassel, and pulled it with unrestrained strength.  She vaguely heard the bell ringing from somewhere, but she wasn’t sure where.

The doors burst open behind her and clerics, doctors, and the Crown Prince rushed in.

Beks whirled around with wide eyes and something hot and wet coming down her face.  The Crown Prince pulled her aside to make away for the clerics and doctors, but kept a hand on her shoulder.

“Breathe, Beks.  Breathe,” he told her as he looked from her to the Queen laying unmoving on the bed.  His own eyes were red.

Beks didn’t realize she wasn’t breathing.  She stood in place, frozen.  She wasn’t sure if she had exhaled and inhaled like he told her.  She just watched as the men and women hovered around the Queen’s bed in a frenzy.

It wasn’t until she heard the head royal doctor, who also treated her, announce the time and then the words they’d dreaded to hear for the last few months that Beks was drawn out of her stupor.

“Queen Letizia dun Kadmus has left us.”