Cayla Kluver - The Queen's Choice

Governor Ivanova, elected conservator and custodian of the Warckum Territory, was known for the strict and swift enforcement of his laws. He was also known as King Ivanova by his detractors, because the governorship had been in his family for so long it was practically an inherited position, with no sign of change on the horizon.

“Then perhaps you should wait for the all-clear before you head out again. All right?” He kissed my forehead, then sought my eyes. At my grudging nod, a tease at last entered his voice. “You know, it sounds like I called you out of potential danger. Doesn’t that mean I deserve a thank-you?”

“No, it means you’re off the hook for cutting my trip short,” I laughed, and he rolled over, trapping me beneath him.

“In that case, I should probably tell you that I didn’t do it for me. The Queen asked when you’d be back and seemed disappointed in my answer. She didn’t actually tell me to interrupt your travels, but it was clear that was what she wanted.”

I pushed myself up on my elbows, Davic scrambling back to accommodate my sudden movement.

“Why?”

“She didn’t tell me that.”

“It must be urgent.” My heart was thumping a little faster as I tried to imagine what could have led Ubiqua to summon me.

Davic shrugged. “I doubt it. She didn’t try to talk to you at Court tonight.”

“I should still go to her. At once.”

Davic’s brows shot upward, and he bent closer again.

“Or you could wait.” He pressed his lips lightly to my neck, and, against my better judgment, I allowed my mind to cloud with the sensation, slipped my hands into his hair and slid back underneath him, indisposed to argue.

* * *

Davic and I slept in longer than we—or rather I—intended. Though he awoke when I rose and we spoke briefly, he was asleep again by the time I left, laying there still dressed from the night before. There was something about him that was angelic. Yes, he frustrated me when our differences came head-to-head, but my trust in him ran deep. He was solid and predictable, like a form of gravity. He would never hurt me, and his arms would always hold me whether my behavior was rational or nonsensical.

In the light of a new day, the snowfall had stopped, and everything was bright and glistening. Though it was cold, the air was crisp and fresh, not like in the human world where the people destroyed and polluted in the conduct of their lives. Many Fae feared that same pollution would seep like a dark fog across our borders and ruin our way of life. I figured if it came to that, it wouldn’t be right to blame those who lived in the Territory; instead, the fault would be ours. The only chance for the humans to befriend Nature rather than dominate it was through us and our elemental connections, and we’d locked their race out of our Realm. They had to survive somehow. That was what Illumina and the others who were part of the Anti-Unification League overlooked: the humans’ right to live.

I flew to the palm—the large knot that made a landing pad before the Great Redwood’s main entrance—then hovered up to my aunt’s private dwelling. I waved to the guards on the ridge, making sure they recognized me before I softly dropped to my feet.

Like closely stitched netting, thick green vines composed the floor of this part of the tree. To most looking up, this netting was the ceiling since no one passed beyond it without invitation. I took delicate steps, for the vines had give to them; despite our gift for flight, uncontrolled falls could be as deadly for Fae as for humans. Still, I knew the netting could hold more weight than it appeared; resiliency was strength, not weakness.

The Queen’s companions were sitting around her throne, which was set back and framed by tied-away willow and lavender-leaf curtains. Catching sight of me, Ubiqua dismissed her Court, her smile and voice gentle. The last to rise was Illumina, her long black hair limp and sallowing her face. Still, her features were delicate, and her eyes, green like mine, were cheerless but sharp. She looked me up and down on her way by, and I had the feeling she was searching for changes in me since I’d been gone.

When the Queen and I were alone, Ubiqua motioned me closer, and I sat at her feet where her entourage had been. Silence hung between us, and I began to worry something was seriously wrong. Though decorum suggested I should wait for her to speak, I took the initiative and opened the conversation.

“Davic told me you were the one who wanted me to come home.”

“I asked Davic not to make that known. I thought he might hold out longer than this.”

We both knew my promised well enough to laugh softly at her remark. Davic had never kept secrets from me.

“I hope he didn’t alarm you,” Ubiqua went on, the blue of her eyes mesmerizing, like a calming tonic. “That wasn’t my intention.”

I searched her face for some clue to where this conversation might be going. “Aunt, if there’s no cause for alarm, why am I here?”

“Because there is something I must tell you, and under the circumstances, sooner is better than later.”

She smiled, although a deeper emotion seemed to be roiling within her. Her silver hair was loose in wispy curls, though here and there were braids—she treated the children of the Court like her own, and allowed them to play with her long locks. On such a glorious day, what could be troubling her?

“This Great Redwood I call my home has been alive much longer than I have, Anya, and it will outlive me by millenniums. We are friends. I talk to it, and at times it whispers back to me. And in its great wisdom, it has whispered that the end of my life is approaching.”

“What?” Her statement rolled over my skin like a shock wave. I studied her in a daze—yes, she was aged, but her skin glowed like a young girl’s, and her mind had lost none of its brilliance. There was no indication of illness about her.

“But that—that can’t be right,” I stammered. “You can’t be dying.”

“No, no, I’m not dying.” Ubiqua placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, where it settled without discernible weight. “Not now. For now, I have all the strength in the world. But soon it will forsake me, and there must be someone to whom I can entrust my legacy. Do you understand?”

“Yes, of course. You know I’ll help Illumina in whatever way I can.”

The Prince’s defection from the Realm had transferred the line of succession to the lineage of the Queen’s eldest sibling, Illumina’s father, making Illumina next in line to the throne. But knowing this didn’t negate my reservations about my younger cousin. I hesitated, wondering if I should speak my mind. While I expected Ubiqua would take my opinions in stride, it was nevertheless perfidious of me to raise them.

“I’m sorry, Aunt, but I...I don’t think she’s ready for this. She needs more time. She doesn’t yet appreciate the value of peace with the humans.”

To my surprise, no rebuke was forthcoming.

“I agree with you and am glad our thoughts align. Illumina will not succeed me.” My aunt settled farther back on her throne, letting her words resonate between us, their meaning well within my grasp had I been disposed to embrace it. “I speak of an heir of my choosing and not just my bloodline. Someone who will honor my legacy and not pervert it. Someone who will finish the work I have begun, and bring humans and Fae together.”

The Queen brought her blue eyes to bear on me, full of conviction and faith, and I was seized by an urge to run, not wanting to hear her next declaration.

“Will you accept this responsibility, Anya? This honor? Will you continue along the path I have set even after my death, just as you have followed in my footsteps during life?”