Chapter Ninety-Five
The waters of the Ragdorian lake were beautiful at night. A group of mages, armed with nothing but wind magic, had quietly managed to get their hands on the ring of Andvari, even though it was said that a castle stood at the bottom of the lake, and a city where spirits resided. The shores were calm, and tranquil. If there were any water spirits, I couldn't see them. It was highly possible that for all of their power, they were capable of sleeping like rocks for countless centuries -waking up only when called, or perhaps when they moved and realized they were missing something.
As I was thinking on the pros and cons, Raven dropped down from the skies by my side, cawing softly as he suddenly lunged for the riverside, splashing and then assuming a sort of duck form.
"You are a crow, Raven," I said dryly. "Or a raven, whatever," I added. "You are not a duck."
"Quack," Raven squawked out. "I'm a duck!" he chirped, "A duckling!" he added with a giggle, flapping his wings a bit and moving back and forth. Was he naturally buoyant though? Were crows capable of staying afloat? He then hoisted his wings up in the air, and with a powerful thrust dried them in an instant, hopping off the water and landing by my side the next second. "Scary," he said. "Don't want to drown."
"Drowning is pretty horrible," I acquiesced, looking at the surface of the lake. "Well, I'll just leave it there."
"Pretty jewel," Raven cawed softly. "Deep at the bottom, yes?" he turned to look at me. "I could go."
"No," I said, shaking my head. I patted his slightly humid wing, "Let's leave it there."
"Lord De Gallia?" I turned my head at the sound of being called, and then I smiled.
"Ah, your royal highness," I said as I bowed gently. "How may I be of service?"
The one talking to me wasn't Henrietta. It wasn't even Wales. The one talking to me was Queen Marianne herself. She was with her guards, and her attendants, but still-there she was, the woman who apparently had a crush on Karin the size of a moon, and then wasted away and died when her husband came less, and who couldn't suffer the weight of the crown any longer.
"We were wondering," Queen Marianne spoke, "If you were perhaps already bored with the party, that you found refuge upon the shores of the lake."
"I am never bored, your royal highness," I replied with a smile, patting Raven's neck. "My familiar simply took a bath without thinking about how he was not a duck, so I had to come fish him out before he drowned."
Raven made a quack sound, and to that, I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. "He really wishes he could be a duck, of all things."
Marianne's eyes widened slightly, and then she giggled at that, with the small chuckle typical of a grandmother being told something funny by her grandchildren. "Your mother did remark something concerning the foolishness of your familiar," she smiled, "though we have not heard her be so full of life since...a long time ago," she turned to look at her guards, "As the son of the Heavy Wind, we wonder what your worth is as a guard?"
"I have dueled both my mother and the Duke D'Orleans, and I still live to tell the tale," I remarked offhandedly, "May your highness be the judge of that."
"Then we suppose we shall let you be our valiant knight for the time being," as she said that, I understood the implicit meaning and walked forth, offering my arm. Just so we're clear, madam, I'm a happily married man and I don't want to reenact any movies of the triple-x type with friends of the mother or that sort of thing. We shall be keeping this platonic only, I hope.
"Too many people might scare away the spirits of the lake," Marianne said with a huff, "so off you go, back to the party. We shall return in time for the cake," she smiled as the attendants and the guards complied -mostly by taking five steps back and then following us from an appropriate distance as was common custom. Privacy? If you want it, you'd better not pick up the crown of king or queen.
"We wonder," Queen Marianne said as she linked her arm to mine, starting to walk -myself simply following her pace, since she was royalty and I was not. "How do you find the court of Gallia? Is it so different from that of Tristain?"
"I have most aptly chosen to let my wife handle the courtly matters," I acquiesced. "I have the grace and finesse of a sledgehammer forced to work delicate crystal," I nodded, grimacing slightly. "But Gallia is a nice place, and his royal highness a good man, if with a penchant for wine...just like me, so I should not be remarking on it."
Marianne giggled softly, "Oh, such honesty," she didn't look that much displeased though. "We are glad you found yourself at home," she sighed. "We must admit, we were of the firm belief that you should have married our daughter."
"I understand," I said with a small smile. "Will the Emperor of Germania make an appearance?"
"He already has," Marianne said with a dull sigh. "You must have already left by then, but thankfully Cardinal Mazarin decided to sacrifice himself to allow for our swift escape. Rather than listening to that boring man, we rather prefer the company of such a spry youth."
I chuckled. "If I may be so bold as to ask," I remarked offhandedly, "I have been told that your royal highness knew my mother from a long time ago...may I be curious enough to ask about a time where my mother was not the wielder of the Rule of Steel?"
"Oh my," Marianne laughed gingerly, "That question-it is never proper to make a lady remember her age by making her reminisce of her past-we understand now why you compared yourself to a sledgehammer. However, we do feel it would make for a nice conversation topic, and it is so rare to find someone who is not afraid of her-" she sighed, shaking her head gently. "My husband never liked her-he thought we'd have a tryst if she stayed too long in my rooms-" she smiled. "Once, we impishly suggested some really interesting action-"
"Your royal highness, I understand now why my mother turns crimson rather than keep her normal color when thinking about the past," I said as I nearly choked on my spit. "There is one such thing as too much information, please, I beg of you-something more...normal."
"Something more normal? Ah..." her eyes softened fondly. "There was a time where we thought your mother was a boy, a pretty boy-we decided we'd take him as a lover even before marrying, so one day, we invited him in our rooms and the decided to ravish-"
"Your royal highness," I choked, "are you doing this on purpose?"
"That we are," she remarked with a giggle, "And your mother truly was right, you have the most delicious of expressions whenever you blush."
I simply sighed at her words, lowering my head slightly, "I suppose so," I exhaled loudly. "Though in the end, I will simply have to steel myself and suffer through at least one shocking story of my mother's youth." I grinned. "Did her hair ever get out of place after a peculiarly embarrassing moment?"
"That has not happened to our royal recollection," Marianne's eyes twinkled. "Why? Did such a thing happen that we were not privy to?"
"Oh, well then...your royal highness, let me tell you the story of how I made my mother lose her composure-"
The cold chills of death ran down my spine as I spoke, even as Raven, behind me, began to nervously look around in fright and fear.
Still, as Marianne laughed once more, I smiled warmly.
Mother, mother, mother dear...worry not, you've got nothing to fear.
