Drayden's Queen

By J A Fleming

Queen Peydra ascends to the throne, but has a mere 12 years until Ruling Council will murder her.

Can she escape the “Curse of Royalty”?

Peydra must decide what she will do as she nears her coronation in a kingdom whose ruling body has used something they call the Protection Dictum to justify murdering the royal family for more than two centuries. Instead of being the warning against tyranny it was intended to be, the practice has become commonplace and threatens not only her life, but destabilizes the kingdom. How does one fight against centuries of barbaric ritualism?

Newly crowned and grieving the loss of her mother, Queen Peydra decides to lead her court on an inaugural tour to introduce herself to the populace. But the new queen soon finds that she has risked the lives of the whole ruling body as the tour caravan faces invaders and imminent war.

Drayden’s Queen is the first installment of Fleming’s four book series, Curse of Royalty. Follow the queen as she grows through loss, struggles against the darkness of the curse, discovers how weighty the crown can be, and experiences the baffling loyalty of a secretive attendant she calls First Boy.

Curse of Royalty is about the inevitability of death, back lit by the hope of true salvation, and surprising loyalty of others despite considerable obstacles, both from without and within.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J A Fleming
• Release date: Nov 24, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370815869

J A Fleming

JA Fleming makes her home in southern Louisiana. With a laugh, she describes herself as a lily– white redneck southern woman.A teller of stories and a heroine of elaborate imaginary games when she was a child, Fleming began to put stories on paper in middle school. She started by transcribing tales her father wove for her and her sisters while on long car rides – tales that were scary but with “funny” endings. When she was sixteen she wrote the first lines of what would become the debut series she’d share with the reading world, Curse of Royalty.A few of Fleming’s favorite authors: Laura Lond, Chris Fabry, Louis L’Amour, Jerry B. Jenkins, Timothy Gautreaux, Jane Austin, Ted Dekker, JRR Tolkien, Frank Peretti, CS Lewis.

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Drayden's Queen. Curse of Royalty, Book One.

ISBN: 9798987276204 [Paperback]

Paperback copyright Jennifer A. Fleming © 2022 all rights reserved.

ISBN: 9781370815869 [eBook, Smashwords]

Book Identifier: GGKEY:QD45S8ZG6W5 [Google Play ebook]

eBook copyright Jennifer A. Fleming © 2017, 2021, 2022 all rights reserved.

Published by Jennifer A. Fleming.

Cover design: J A Fleming [behance.net/JenniferFleming]

Cover photo: Elizaveta Dushechkina @kallyua (Unsplash.com)

Reproduction of this work in whole or in part in any way without express written permission is prohibited.

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons, places, events, or situations is merely coincidental and beyond the intentions of the author.

Thank you for supporting my writing habit by purchasing this book. Please consider leaving a review and rating this wherever you purchased this book – especially if you enjoy it. Your reviews and comments increase the visibility of this book and in that way, you have a hand in helping others find it – you could even request that your library purchase a copy for their collection and if they do, let me know which library [library name, city, county, state] and I’ll send you my next work of fiction for free – possibly before it’s readily available to the general public.

Quoted scriptures are from the English Standard Version of the Holy Bible.

The Holy Bible, English Standard Version ® (ESV®), copyright © 2001 by Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers.

Contents

The King Is Dead

Escape

Shadow of Death

Long Live the Queen

A Test

Hillatite Emissary Visits

Inaugural Tour Begins

Insomnia & a Mob

What’s Kalan Want?

Sly Saiurians

An Unexpected Proposal

War Is Coming

Catapulted Into Battle

Mercy or Judgment

Tough Decisions

Tour Continues

Thanks for reading!

Abandoned Queen

So, what’s the curseall about anyway?

Author’s Note & Acknowledgements

About the Writer

Also by Jennifer Fleming

.1.

The King Is Dead

On the eve of Princess Peydra’s sixteenth birthday, she shivered in her private quarters, dreading the future. She wanted to run, but fear immobilized her. All her life she’d heard tales of what would happen at midnight on her sixteenth birthday, but she hoped it was just a bad dream. If the nightmare was true, they were going to legally murder her father, the King of Drayden, and call it the Protection Dictum. Peydra had always considered it less a protection than a curse – Drayden’s curse of royalty. A curse that threatened her future.

Turning from the large balcony windows, she went to a heavy desk and took several slow breaths. Shuffling a stack of parchment to one side, the princess lifted a hand to touch an ear. If she ran, where would she go?

At a knock, Peydra startled, then watched her mother, Queen Kaphier, enter to fill the princess’s quarters with a calm, commanding presence.

Peydra rubbed tired eyes. Having spent hour upon hour with Chaucier, the royal tutor, in her last session with him, he’d belabored several important things for young royals to remember. Suspecting her mother to have arrived with the same purpose in mind, Princess sat at her desk and folded her hands in her lap while her mother dismissed her personal attendants and claimed a seat near the fire.

Having rarely been within her mother’s presence, Peydra clinched her hands tighter together as silence stretched between them. When her mother finally spoke, she found herself thankful that her mother hadn’t witnessed her flinch.

Do you have the dresses I sent?

Yes, Your Majesty.

Do you have questions?

No. Your Majesty.

Queen Kaphier sent an appraising glance at her daughter. Do not make a scene when you’re at the coronation ceremony. You must stand straight, your shoulders back, and chin high. You must not look at the floor. Only servants look at the floor.

Peydra suppressed a cringe as her mother’s words resonated in the expansive chamber. The woman’s mouth pressed into an unpleasant horizontal. Princess wondered if she knew how harsh it made her face look in the deepening shadows of the room.

Kaphier took a breath to say more but held it. For a moment, the girl imagined that her mother’s face softened. Endeavoring to gather courage in the light of her mother’s intensity, Peydra glanced about for her favorite attendant and felt abandoned. Her eyes found him on the opposite side of the room, where he attempted to remain out of the queen’s sight.

When Peydra’s gaze settled once more on her mother, she found disappointment written in the lines of Kaphier’s brow.

As she had many times before, Peydra opened her lips to make an excuse for his presence, but Queen Kaphier stopped her with a raised hand. Princess, your station is one of importance. Those rules are for your protection – not just to annoy you. You must be responsible.

The queen sighed and looked down at her jeweled fingers before continuing. Your position is one of privilege as well as great responsibility. Before I join the king in his eternal rest, I must teach you how to rule as you should. Servants and attendants are to be treated as such. It simply is not proper or safe to treat them as anything else. They are not and never will be true equals. It is the way things are and the way things will always be. Peydra watched her mother’s fingers touch her temple and as they moved, her rings glittered, blinking small prismatic lights onto the floor like willow in the wisps.

Queen Kaphier studied her daughter, making eye contact. I hope you will… she began, but looked away.

Surprised by her mother’s momentary vulnerability, Peydra rose from her seat and knelt in front of the queen.

This curse weighs heavily upon us – I fear leaving you alone and time is not in our favor. Soon you must choose a king to rule with you and, unfortunately, to share in the curse. I will not choose one for you, and your father was too preoccupied with his own plans to sign a marriage contract with any of the noble families. It is a rare thing for one of royal blood to have the freedom to choose whom to marry. She looked into the middle distance. Soon your father will succumb to the curse – but you must fulfill your role when the time comes, and I want you to be ready.

Why do we all have to die like this?

Her mother's eyebrow twitched. It’s a custom used to protect the land from tyranny. You know that.

I’ll be alone when the curse takes you, won’t I?

No. You’ll have your attendants and advisors.

Peydra remained quiet for a moment before saying, Isn’t there something, anything, we can do?

It doesn’t seem so, my child. Unless… The queen looked out the window at the cloudless evening.

Unless what?

Kaphier’s eyes found Peydra again. Unless you’re able to find someone to plead your case at a council gathering. Making alliances with noble families may not help you – those may actually speed your demise. You have to save yourself, because no one else can do it for you. And you must have an heir as close to your thirtieth birthday as you can manage. That will give you another eighteen years.

Peydra looked down as her mother spoke once more. "Be cautious, daughter. Your foes are numerous even now – your battle is all but hopeless, but if you can do this, it will be better for your children, for your descendants, for the people of Drayden. The Protection Dictum can end during your reign.

It may take only one person to save you from my fate. I grew to love your father… Her voice trailed off. Kaphier grimaced and pulled her hands away as Peydra leaned in to touch them.

Queen Kaphier stood. Rest tonight, for this is the last day of your childhood.

The ominous tone of her mother’s voice as she left the room made Peydra shiver.

Going to the south side of the room, she stood near the large windows. Those windowed doors led out to an expansive balcony that overlooked some of the palace gardens. The marble floor, frigid beneath Peydra’s thin slippers, did nothing to keep her from a pensive mood as she studied the moon.

First Boy, her favorite attendant, came to stand behind her, as was his typical practice. Peydra glanced at him. He had remained close since the day of his arrival and often stood at the balcony doors for reasons unknown to her. At first she had imagined he was homesick and his home lay to the south, but she didn’t know enough about him to be sure. Perhaps he simply enjoyed looking at the sky, because he rarely ever looked at her. Glancing down at her hands, she wondered if that was because he didn’t want to or if it was because he didn’t want to risk eye contact, since that was one of the many things she knew the servants were warned against.

From the corner of her eye, she studied him. First Boy was several years her senior, though she did not know his exact age. Of all her attendants, she believed he was special. He wasn’t even the most handsome of them – though his tanned face and arms contrasted with his white attendant uniform, making him a striking figure – and his manners seemed more refined than that of the other servants, which made him more interesting. The last of ten men she had chosen from the crowd, First Boy, had been an instant favorite. Her mother tried to persuade her to pick one of the others, but Peydra knew she wanted him the most. From that day she had dubbed him First Boy – a snarky, girlish idea she had when she noted his intimidating presence. But now, a year later, she hated that she didn't have a real name to call him by, and embarrassment kept her from asking him or anyone else what his name actually was.

Peydra didn’t know anything definitive about his past, but somehow he seemed trustworthy. Nearly always silent, he never made eye contact, and barely put a whole string of words together even when answering a direct question. Silence like that, even in a servant who was expected to act in such a way, had a tendency to make her think that person secretly devious, but this man seemed different from any other person she knew. Was he even from Drayden?

Peydra flushed, remembering the first time she tested him those few weeks after he’d come to the palace. The cold had melted months before and that day she had tried to order Chaucier away so she could enjoy the favorable weather. With the corners of his mouth quirking in a quick and almost imperceptible smile, the tutor had agreed to shorten her morning lessons, but stated she would have to make them up that evening. It was the first time her command had swayed him and his concession made her wonder if he was finally taking her seriously.

Elated to have her way, Peydra had hurried out into the gardens amidst a large group of attendants and guards. Most of the nobles were engaged with boring council hearings, so other than a groundskeeper or two, the royal park behind the expansive palace had been empty. Not desiring to sweat as she felt the sun hot upon her skin, she entertained a wild thought.

First Boy stood at her back like he often did, and as they neared the lake, she noticed his shadow overtaking hers. She’d been told to keep at least one male attendant and guard on hand no matter the circumstance, but in a fit of fancy she dismissed all but First Boy. It had been amusing to watch their faces as they worked out if they should heed her command or follow Queen Kaphier’s orders to remain at her side. There had been no need for the princess to repeat herself, for she saw each of them look at First Boy as if for permission before bowing and backing away.

Once they were gone, Peydra sat on the lakeshore, and despite etiquette, removed her shoes. Pink stocking-covered toes played in the water and pebbles near the shore, and shortly afterwards she wondered what it would feel like to immerse herself in the coolness.

With recklessness, she waded into the lake. With a grin, she tossed her shoes to First Boy and splashed with a whoop into the chilly water.

First Boy had never looked at her inappropriately, and that time was no exception, though she imagined his tan took on a decidedly redder shade than before as he held her shoes. Maybe where he came from women were always modest and proper. But that day Peydra had cared little for anything but the fulfillment of her own desires – to be happy, no matter the cost.

As the bright reds of the sunset faded, the princess felt the chill of night air seep past her high collar, pulling her from her reverie. Was that what she wanted now? Simply to be happy? Would that be enough? Peydra called for Sharon to help her ready for bed, even though she knew better than to imagine she would be able to sleep.

•

Sunrise dazzled the princess, belying the darkness of what was to come for her family. Normally she would have slept long into the morning if allowed, but today was special – it was Princess Peydra’s sixteenth birthday. Though she knew better than to hope that her father would survive the curse that evening, she dreaded seeing him later that day, as she had been accustomed to doing on her birthdays.

Stretching, she noticed Sharon, her favored female attendant, standing near the curtained dressing area. The maternal woman smiled at Peydra and curtsied.

While Sharon and the other ladies dressed her, Peydra felt the tiniest bit of relief. No more tutoring lessons for me, right Sharon?

The quiet woman’s reflection smiled and nodded.

Peydra mirrored it with a weak smile of her own before muttering, I would have traded the cruel death of my father for a lifetime of those demanding lessons.

Sharon’s reflection sobered and nodded again – her expressive eyes somber.

Hearing a knock at the door, Princess ignored it and remained on her dressing stand, even though the women were only putting finishing touches on her ensemble. From the other side of the curtain, she heard First Boy answer and to Glorienzel, speaker of the ruling council, being announced.

Princess could not keep a frown from her face while she listened to his voice echoing in the waiting area. Glad the older man could not see her, she attempted to calm the rush of nerves that threatened to make her appear apprehensive by reminding herself she would command Glorienzel in a few short years.

Gathering her skirts and forcing anxiety aside, Peydra exited the dressing area to join Speaker in her sitting room.

Speaker Glorienzel bowed as was proper, and when she had settled into a high backed chair and granted him leave to speak, he asked, Princess, has anyone spoken to you about what to expect this evening?

She waved a hand to indicate he could continue, not because she didn’t know what to expect, but because she didn’t trust her voice not to waver.

At midnight we will have the coronation ceremony for your mother, the queen, so she may rule as regent until you come of age. Our king’s funeral will be a large gathering held in the deepest part of darkness before sunrise that will usher in the dawn of her interim rule.

Peydra squeezed her hands together in her lap, hoping her trepidation would not be readily apparent to the insightful man. Pushing fear aside, Peydra forced her fingers to relax and looked steadily at Speaker.

Do you have any questions?

Not at this time. Thank you. How long is customary for me to remain at the celebration?

Glorienzel hesitated. The nobles will expect you to be there for a reasonable length of time, Princess. And… it may help you put faces with the names you’ve been learning.

Color rose to her cheeks at the implied lack of confidence. For years she’d learned names and lineages of noble families, knowledge key to helping her keep herself from their scheming machinations, but having been prevented from associating much with them, she had found it difficult to place faces with their accompanying names. Mentally cutting off the rise of embarrassment, she nodded curtly and rose from her seat.

He took a hasty step back.

Recognizing his reaction to be laced with a bit of respect, she calmed the angry response she’d been composing in her mind, softened her expression slightly and said, Thank you. You may go.

Not waiting to watch Glorienzel bow his way out of the sitting room, Peydra moved back into her chambers, having the door closed behind her.

•

Anthony left the princess around midday to speak with Imperial Commander Gaius. Finding the older man in the barrack’s training arena with a troop of fresh–faced soldiers, Anthony stood to the side of the open area training arena and leaned against a column while he watched.

Sun drifted lazily across the winter sky and by mid–afternoon Commander Gaius walked over. To what do I owe this honor?

Is there somewhere we could speak privately?

Gaius led the way out of the training yard into the palace park.

Once they were a comfortable distance from the barracks, Anthony said, This morning I noticed Councilman Malpholous speaking with one of the princess’s tasters – a man named Hamph. It didn’t look particularly cordial. I’d like to request the use of a few discrete guards, men you trust who could watch them both for a time.

Of course; I’ll handle it immediately.

Anthony stopped walking. I’d like them to report directly to me, unless that will be a problem.

Commander Gaius paused, and the shrewd man made a show of studying Anthony before he said, I admire your loyal determination, and I know you are her 'First Boy' but I don’t believe that wise, Sir. You are isolated with the princess day in and day out. I have and will continue to keep the royal family safe. You need not worry about her security. As I said, I will handle it.

Anthony stilled his instinctive response, reminded himself of his position, and hoped that the noble had not manipulated Gaius as well. "Let’s make this simple. I’ll have the court administrator remove Hamph from service. We’ll still need the noble to be watched. If he had something sinister in mind, he won’t be happy that we’ve stepped into the way. And