Foreign and Domestic Affairs

By S. Faxon

Mourning the death of their youngest son was difficult enough without the constant pressures of court upon the king and queen. While needing to heal with their surviving children, the royal couple are torn away when unexpected visitors from abroad come to their shores on ill tides. The king and queen have weathered many storms, they've saved a nation from crumbling, but, can the pair who married for love, who never wished to sit on the thrones, save their marriage, their family, and their crowns?

• Language: English
• Publisher: No Bad Books Press
• Release date: Dec 17, 2021
• ISBN: 9781735726137

S. Faxon

I’m an author and creative warrior. My writing career spans four published books, several short stories, and an emerging comic series. My published novels, The Animal Court and Foreign & Domestic Affairs are about a king and queen’s struggle to maintain power over the country that they love. Foreign & Domestic Affairs was featured in the 54th annual San Diego Public Library’s Local Author Showcase. My collection of horror short stories, Tiny Dreadfuls, is being hailed as a spooky-good time, and the creative-non-fiction, Lost Aboard I co-authored with my writing partner, Theresa Halvorsen, is about San Diego’s historical landmark, Star of India.

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S. Faxon

Foreign & Domestic Affairs

First published by No Bad Books Press 2020

Copyright © 2020 by S. Faxon

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

S. Faxon asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

Third edition

ISBN: 978-1-7357261-3-7

This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy

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Contents

Acknowledgement

I. FOREIGN

Morning

Duty

Kin of the King

The Void

Preparations

The Festival

Foreign

Domestic

The Bear Room

The Last Time She Saw Sam

A Rift Between Brothers

Why He Stayed

Spying

Decisions Made

Why He Returned

Like Old Times

From the Shadows

Tidings of Hope

By Fate

Doubt

Investigation

The Top Gosling

The Cost

Comfort

The Wound

Confrontation

The Next Step

II. DOMESTIC

Home

Wisdom

The Wedding

The Dance

Questions

Theories

Declarations

Answers

Trouble in Paradise

The Road to Maltoro

Preparations

Stories Untold

Shadows in their Midst

Song of the Nation

The Whispering Bear

Chaos

A Change of Plans

To the Roofs

Into the Bear’s Den

The Flag

Illuminations

Epilogue

About the Author

Also by S. Faxon

Acknowledgement

This book and her predecessor, The Animal Court, emerged from a year of extremes. My family endured some of the most difficult trials we’ve yet encountered, and yet, the love and support we have for each other not only survived, it blossomed.

While in quarantine, I developed my writing skills and author community, which helped this book to become what I always knew it could be.

From the support I received from my writing-podcast friends, The Semi-Sages of the Pages, to the guidance from my marketing group, The Writer’s Crutch, I have grown so much as both a writer and as a human being. I am so grateful to have gotten to know these people during this pandemic!

I’d like to thank my author friend, Theresa Halvorsen, for the countless hours she has spent helping to tighten my writing and deepen my stories. I cannot imagine where any of my writing would be without your advice!

I am eternally grateful to my friends Victoria, Jenny, Kori, Bianca, and Andrew, who were always there to listen or to share a laugh. Though we’ve all been apart through most of this year, I feel like all of our bonds have strengthened and grown.

To my friend Catherine, who helped me remember my faith in times of darkness, and to my partner, Salvatore, for always believing in me, I will forever be indebted to you for the fortitude and strength that you both have inspired in me.

To all of them, to all of you, thank you.

I

Foreign

Morning

He was the first to wake on the pale March morning.

His back felt stiff. His leg was asleep from the weight of his wife’s knee on his thigh. Even though he did not sleep, he was pleased to see that Gertrude remained curled up beside him. His thoughts had been consumed by grief, and every memory that brought them to this point. Neither wanted what they had received, but here they were, nearly nineteen years later, king and queen.

Breyton lay still in bed, thinking back on the dreams the pair of them had made so long ago to settle in the country at his estate. The only involvement they had hoped to have with the crown was to help Herod from afar when needed. It would have been paradise.

The king scoffed to himself, What a waste of thought.

The country was better off now, far better. Regardless of how challenging things had been for him and Gertrude, and how difficult they continued to be, their homeland was prospering. He and Gertrude had proven themselves to be worthy, albeit reluctant, bearers of the crowns.

Finding himself smiling at the irony, Breyton looked at his sleeping wife. Until recently, it had been a while since he genuinely looked at her. Even after everything that had passed between them, and there had been as many fires of passion as fires from hell, she remained to be his everything.

From the provocation of her husband’s fingers stroking her face, Gertrude stretched and came to life. Her eyes took longer to focus than they used to when they first opened in the morning, but after blinking hard, Queen Gertrude saw her husband looking down at her. She tucked herself as close as she could to Breyton’s side. It was a cold morning. The warmth of his body was a great comfort. You look lost in reverie, she observed. Anything in particular?

Breyton nodded and pulled the blankets tighter around his wife. I remembered some of the things that we’ve been through. Before his wife had the opportunity to respond, Breyton realized that their son’s teddy bear remained tucked between them from last night. She did not seem to notice, so he quickly decided not to say anything for fear of stirring her grief once more.

The queen chuckled, That’s certainly not a shortlist. Have you been awake very long?

No, not really, Breyton lied. He did not want to add to her worries, with everything else on her mind.

Gertrude saw the heavy bags beneath her husband’s eyes, but she said nothing.

Breyton sighed, then somberly said, We’d better get up.

His wife did not particularly wish to leave the warmth and privacy of her bed to go to a grim and cold ceremony. She wanted to curl up, fall back to sleep, and wake up last summer, before the nightmares and the numbness began.

Do you think it’ll snow today? she asked, hoping that the weather would be merciful for once.

Breyton looked over toward the window, but since the curtains were down, all he could see was a gray glow coming from behind. It’s snowed every day this month; I don’t see why it won’t snow today.

The cruel, bitter weather was the reason that the influenza epidemics struck so hard in this country and why Gertrude’s mother could not be here to help. I wonder how long it will be before we find out how hard the epidemic was this season. It seems to get worse and worse every time it comes around.

The king and queen rose from their bed and began to dress.

They dressed in silence. The blanket of loss encompassed them completely, allowing them to contemplate little else.

Hating the void between them, Breyton decided to make conversation to distract them from their cold reality. I can’t wait until the waters are at a reasonable temperature again, he said under his breath as he reached high, then twisted his back right and left. I can’t stand not being able to be free in the water; I feel so much better when I can swim.

You’re a fish, Breyton, Gertrude said over her shoulder as she pulled on a warm, thick under-layer that would be hidden by her dress. I’m surprised you survive so long without being submerged. She slipped into the black first layer of her dress and then tied her corset loosely. From the closet, her husband brought her the black garb that was the appropriate item for such an occasion. She quietly thanked him while she wished that she could wear any other color than black.

In the mirror, Gertrude stared at herself. Dabbing on cover-up or worrying about how she appeared seemed so superficial after losing her son.

Her hands grasped the sides of the vanity. She inhaled deeply, but it felt like she could no longer breathe.

Breyton. She sobbed. Her eyes were unfocused, filling with tears.

Though he had not heard her whisper, his hands were on her shoulders, his lips to the side of her face.

Our baby, she uttered.

Breyton wrapped his arms around her and dropped his face into the nape of her neck.

In the sacred privacy of their bedroom, the husband and wife clutched onto one another and displayed their mourning. The funeral for their youngest child was inevitable, but this grief that they shared was one they would not be able to show beyond their bedroom door. However, the impending hour of that black ceremony drained all monarchical duties and expectations from the royal couple. For now, they could be mortal.

Amid her sobs, Gertrude said, No parents should have to suffer the death of their child. None. I don’t care who they are. This suffering is too cruel to bear.

Breyton wanted was to stay here with her, to hide away and let themselves mourn. But this was not possible. On the back end of a sigh, he reminded his wife that they had to go. He drew away from her and finished buttoning his thick, fur-lined jacket up to his neck. He collected for his wife her long, fur cloak.

Gertrude wiped the tears from her face and did her best to repair the cover-up. Breyton draped the heavy, long, dark coat over her shoulders.

From their wardrobe, Gertrude pulled out what many viewed as the essential pieces of their outfits. The pair that she removed was not as weighty or as loud as the others. She offered Breyton his as she kept her own looped around her wrist.

The king capped on his head the thin silver crown.

For a brief moment, they stopped and stared at one another. The love they shared was their tridents, their crowns, their curse.

The king reached out his hand to his wife. Together they walked through the castle toward the snow-covered bailey, where they would join the procession to the royal burying grounds.

It was time to put their youngest son to rest.

Near the exit to the courtyard, the king and queen were welcomed by a small crowd. The queen barely paid any attention to the people around. She was too busy looking for her surviving children.

Where are our children? she asked her husband and their longtime friend Ivan. I thought we were supposed to walk out with them?

Ivan shook his head, then answered, Their nursery maid has them waiting on the other side in the hall so that when you two come out, they’ll still be warm, or something like that.

The king looked at his queen and could see that she was yet again displeased with the nursery maid, but right now, that was not important.

Majesties, they’re ready to start whenever you are, Ivan informed them.

The pair nodded and prepared themselves for the sorrow that was soon to envelop them the moment their son’s small coffin rolled past.

The doors to the frozen courtyard swung open. A rush of biting wind and a blinding light from the natural order of the world flashed, beckoning forth the king and queen.

Duty

The priest’s words echoed in her heart as the small crowd returned from burying her son. The pain she felt from the loss of her child was intolerable. It was so odd to think that there would be one less child to care for and to watch grow. It was a hard fact for any mother to bear. As queen, she fully recognized that royalty bore no gifts of immortality, even though their surnames and legacies could outlive centuries. What she could not fathom was how people of such wealthy establishments could not find doctors who could cure or help to bring back an otherwise healthy child.

Gertrude, her husband softly cooed in her ear, Come in from the cold. There’s nothing more we can do out here. Breyton pulled on his wife’s elbow in an attempt to lure her inside.

The silver crown upon his brow, lined with fur as it was, deeply chilled his skin. The king worried for his wife in this cold. Gertrude had only recently recovered from the same influenza that took their son’s life.

Turning away from the snow-covered bailey, Gertrude looked to her husband’s eyes and found warmth again, like that which she had not felt in ages from him. Why is it always so cold here? she asked, expecting no answer. How long can a land live without the sun? Tucking herself close to her husband, Gertrude followed the others back into the halls of Maltoro Castle.

But there was no peace to be found inside those walls.

As soon as they walked through the doors, the royal couple was bombarded by a crowd of bustling well-wishers. The king and queen wanted nothing to do with these people who buzzed about them like flies. They needed to be with their remaining children. With a crowd of people trying to gain the attention of the monarchs, the pair felt never before felt more chained to their thrones than now.

Majesties!

The buzzing crowd was silenced by the rapidly approaching, shouting stranger.

A young messenger came running from the crowd, coated with a dusting of snow. He knelt before the king and queen. I’ve a letter for you, majesties, from the royal family of Ruishlind! The thin boy, rattling from the cold, pulled from his vest a rolled piece of parchment and held it up to the king.

One of the king’s bodyguards began to reach for the note, but Breyton stepped toward the messenger to take the letter himself.

The crowd watched the king. The buzzing whispering guesses of the flies began to sound much more like the wings of hornets.

The hall was dimly lit, so holding the note close to a burning mounted torch, Breyton confirmed with his eyes the seal was that of genuine Ruishlind royalty. Breyton returned to his wife’s side. He leaned close to her ear to tell her privately, This may be about the duke’s visit Tuminov told us about before the storms of winter. Do you want me to deal with this now or do you want me to come with you?

When her husband took a step back, Gertrude quietly answered, Go ahead. I’ll be with the children if you need me. She leaned forward to kiss her husband, but the crowd deterred her from showing emotion. Instead of a kiss, the queen squeezed her husband’s hand then turned to her entourage of devoted followers.

Breyton hesitated to ensure that his wife was indeed all right, but his own attendants pulled him away from her, back to his kingly duties.

The batch of flies was not sure which way to follow once the royal pair separated. Hounding the king may have been more politically interesting, but following the queen could leak some juicy gossip about her being weak, being human. Like the king and queen, the crowd split nearly half and half.

Try as she could to ignore the followers, hoping that she could mourn her son with dignity, Gertrude could not surpass the annoyance of the mindless fools stalking her tracks. With a quick motion of her head, her favored bodyguard was almost instantly at her side. The queen politely, but firmly commanded for him to shew away the spectators.

The head of the royal guard stopped in his tracks and held out his arms to hold back the crowd. Policy around here hasn’t changed. You know that the children are not to be disturbed. He reminded.

The queen and her two current lady’s maids proceeded to the nursery, leaving the flies behind.

Gertrude entered the room where her children were waiting for her. Their sad, but beautiful faces turned to look at their mother. The scene before her was damaged. One was missing, and not just her son who had passed. Where’s Bow? Gertrude asked of the nursery maid Lada.

The young woman opened her mouth to answer, but Gertrude’s twelve-year-old son, Ilya, was the first to respond, He went to find dad. The boy’s twin sister Oleyesa nodded to confirm the location of the heir.

Of course, Bow would seek out his father. Gertrude nodded then said to the nursery maid without looking at her, Lada, why don’t you take off for the remainder of the day? I’d like some time with my children.

Lada nodded then bowed, removing her lean, tall body from the room.

Even through the sadness, the queen’s distaste of Lada’s presence almost overwhelmed her. When the queen was sure that the attractive, young, ivory-skinned girl was out of the room, she turned to her ladies in waiting. Ladies, why don’t you two wait outside the room for a bit, until our guard returns, and then you may also take the afternoon.

The girls left and Gertrude was finally alone with her children. The chill of the morning clung heavily to her skin. She walked to the fireplace’s side where she sat beside her eldest daughter, Anya. Gertrude rubbed Anya’s shoulder then said, Dears, I know that the following weeks are going to be rough, but, regardless of our land’s cold winters and cruel storms, spring will come and we’ll all be smiling again before you know it.

The four children in the room looked adoringly at their mother. Anya was growing in her mother’s image and she was vividly observing her mother’s every movement to learn all that she could. Oleyesa was less interested in her mother’s actions, being more influenced by her father, but Sophie, the new youngest, was also entrapped with her mother’s grace.

How do you know? the cynical Ilya inquired, Winters here never bloody end!

Ilya, Gertrude motherly chimed. I know because I’m old, darling, and as such, I’ve seen it all. We have a saying here; ‘March comes in like a lion, and goes out like a lamb.’ It couldn’t be truer for us this year.

And Anya’s birthday is coming up too! Sophie said, popping up from the couch with her excitement, her light brown hair swaying in its braids like rope swings.

That’s right, Anya, Gertrude said. Sixteen, too. That’s quite a milestone in our society.

Oh, Mata, Anya said, rolling her eyes. It only means that I can marry.

"And attend formal balls, and apply for universities. You may be given land and assume a title of Duchess with it. You’ll be a proper lady in just a few weeks. We’ll have to begin planning a birthday celebration for you, dear." Gertrude smiled as she squeezed her daughter’s hand.

Anya leaned away from her mother and turned her eyes upward again. I don’t know, Mata, it just…I don’t want any fuss. In all truth, she was excited about turning sixteen because she could start sending out applications to the prestigious Northern University in the country Viramont. She wanted to follow the footsteps of her parents as closely as possible, but right now, it didn’t seem right to be thinking of her future or even of a party after laying her youngest sibling to rest.

Seeing that thought pass through her daughter’s mind, Gertrude decided to carry on the distraction. I remember when I turned sixteen. I was on route to a new country, alone and scared out of my wits to be so far from home.

You? Afraid? Ilya asked.

The great queen nodded. She leaned closer to the warmth of the fire before answering. The new shadows on her face made her look to her children almost like a swan. "Yes, but it was a good fear. I was nervous and excited. I did not know what was ahead of me in Viramont or if I would even be permitted to stay at the Northern, as I would have been the first woman to attend. I was allowed, obviously, and thank heavens. Who knows where I would be today or any of us for that matter, had I been denied the right to a proper education."

You probably would never have met papa, then none of us would be here, Anya offered a theory to which the queen agreed.

There’s really no limit to the possibilities of the ‘what if’s, Gertrude reflected. It took everything for her to not reflect on her own ocean-full of ‘what if’s. "It doesn’t matter what could have happened. I’m quite happy with what did." Though she believed in the words she said, Gertrude could not help to feel like she had spilled a lie to her children. The shadows of her past seemed to be calling to her from the crackling logs in the nearby hearth. The pragmatic woman’s head once more commanded her heart to cease its foolish visit to the past, for there was nothing that could be done to change or alter her story.

Mata, Ilya cut through the silence to retrieve his mother’s attention. Why don’t you sing to us anymore? Are we not worth the time?

Anya quickly cut in to scold her younger brother. Don’t insult mother like that, Ilya.

Gertrude patted Anya’s arm to signal her to be more understanding. Everyone had their way of dealing with sorrow. The queen inhaled deeply then said, Forgive me, darlings for my general neglect these past few months. I’ve been so ill…I doubt that my lungs have the strength yet to dote you, but I may have a tale to share with you tonight if you’d like?

The children nodded enthusiastically for their mother to tell them a story that might distract them from their sorrows.

Right then, she said after briefly recalling the aspects of the legend she wished to share. It struck her as particularly important to tell this one to her children, what with the rising tensions between their country and their neighbor, her own mother’s native lands. After hearing rumors that the story was being told differently in Ruishlind as of recent times, Gertrude found it imperative to maintain the tale in the form of old as it was one of brotherhood, not of rivalry.

Leaning toward her children, Gertrude began.

Kin of the King

"Long ago, Vitenka and Ruishlind, were joined. They were coupled together along our south-western shoreline. The country then known as Zyraine was ruled by a marvelous king and queen. The pair were fair-minded but firm with their courses. The people admired them and respected their words. The only issue that perturbed the nation was that the royals had borne no heirs. There was much grumbling and many heated disputes about what would happen were the king to die without an heir. The monarch feared that his lack of an heir would eventually tear the kingdom apart.

After years of prayer and hope, the queen conceived and she birthed a perfect set of twins. Gertrude’s own twins smiled upon hearing this. "The twins were identical boys and they grew up to be charming, intelligent, honorable gentlemen. Their parents watched them grow with great pride.

"But, as the king grew older, choosing the heir to the throne became more and more difficult with each passing day. Both of the young men held equally great characteristics. Both would make great kings. Baffled by this notion, the king had countless secret tests to be administered to his sons to see if somehow one would outweigh the other, but after months of these challenges, the results remained the same. The king did not know what to do, so he decided that his sons would have to face it out themselves, though not in a duel of swords, for he could not stand the possibility of one of them injuring the other. Knowing that they were equally gifted in intellect as well, the king did the last thing that he could imagine. He brought his two sons to the heart of the kingdom where he commanded them to a tug-of-war duel. Whoever of his sons brought the flag across a chalked line would be heir to all of Zyraine. Reluctantly from embarrassment, the twins took hold to both ends of the rope and tugged as hard as they could. On either side of the line, flocks of people joined to see which boy would be their next king. The king hovered over the line watching the flag intently, but the marker simply would not move.

Suddenly, the rope split right in the middle! Both boys fell to the ground even that at the same time. The king was so furious from this predicament, that he unsheathed his sword, held it high above them, and struck the ground. The crushing weight of the blow sent a loud crack throughout the lands. The ground began to quake and the lands parted right where the king’s blade struck. The once large land split into two islands that drifted apart from one another, each with a brother to rule over them safely. And that, my dears, is how Ruishlind and Vitenka came to be.

You made that up, Ilya said, seconds after his mother finished the tale.

I did not, Gertrude defended. "My mother, your babu told me that story when I was Sophie’s age. If you think that I aggrandized, fluffed it up a bit, that’s probably true. The legend of Zyraine’s end also says that this event happened around about the time of the Great Rift, when the world was shaken and the continents divided, but I doubt that anyone is alive now who could confirm the truth. It was a mere thirteen hundred some years ago. Either way, I would not doubt that something like this could happen…I’ve certainly heard of far odder things being true."

For the next several minutes, Gertrude and her children threw out the silliest things, however colorful, to prove to Ilya that stranger things could happen. The children and their mother were smiling and an interstice began to form between the mourning and their recovery.

On the other side of the door, the head of security could hear the joy and erasure from the cold morning’s activity. He hesitated before entering with his message from the king because it had been far too long that the castle had been devoid of good feelings. Scratching the edge of his greying hairline, Aleksie took a deep breath before opening the door. The gentleman stood in the aperture awkwardly as he looked onto the beautiful faces of the royal family.

Won’t you come in, Aleksie? the queen invited, sitting comfortably by the fire.

The once devoted bodyguard to the late king Herod entered the room then said, I most gladly would, majesty, but your husband asked for your company. He said it’s of some importance, well, actually, Lord Tuminov gave me the message and made it sound like the castle was on fire or something like catastrophic that. Time had made Aleksie calmer and wiser, but his indirect ways of coming to points made him the same old Aleksie. Gertrude had long grown fond of him after the years of his faithful service to her. It was the idea of being pulled away from her babes that vexed her.

Oh, Mata, don’t go! the children protested.

The queen did not wish to leave her children, but if the king wanted her presence on today of all days, then the matter had to be important. Sweethearts, I must, but I will not stay away long.

That’s right, duty calls, Ilya mumbled with his arms folded.

The queen stood and looked at her children. I want you all to know that there is nowhere else on earth that I would rather be than here with you. You are my children, and I love you each more than anything. I am truly sorry that my queenship obligates me away from you. While my title will always rule my head and decision-making politically, my heart and soul will always belong to you, dears. Gertrude’s eyes filled with tears, yet she, like always, forbade the wetness from being witnessed by others. After shutting her eyes and inhaling deeply to pull back her tears, Gertrude asked her children to behave and to listen to Glorian Bonnetova, her favorite and lead lady-in-waiting. Aleksie had brought her with him, knowing ahead of time that she would be needed. Her afternoon off would have to wait.

You know, I’ll have no choice but to hate you for this if it is anything less than imperative, Gertrude said sarcastically to Aleksie after she managed to drag herself from her children’s sides.

Aleksie chuckled, then returned, So will I.

To the other side of the castle, to the place where the peacock once proudly strutted, Gertrude and Aleksie made way. The soldiers who stood guard before the king and queen’s study saw how pursed her lips were as she approached. They jumped out of the way and opened the doors for their queen.

The three men already in the room popped up to welcome her. She entered with her pride and elegance radiating from her well-practiced posture and heavy black clothes. Where’s Bow? she asked the moment the door closed behind.

Breyton cleared his throat then said while tapping the desk, He just stepped out. I think he was headed for the nursery.

Of course, Gertrude muttered to herself, being not at all surprised that she had missed her eldest again. Breyton stood where once Herod had as he would pretend to listen to a much younger version of her. Though Herod’s body was long gone, the memory of him in this room stood as clear before her as a ghost.

The lady sternly asked, So what is this matter of such great importance that you saw fit enough to pull me from my children?

The shortest and youngest in the room, Marvin Tuminov was first to answer, D’ you mean ‘side from the fact that the letter’s written in Heltkor?

The king shut his eyes. He was highly disappointed with Marvin’s answer, for he knew that his wife’s frustration and temper would be ignited.

Staring at the odd black tattooed lines on Tuminov’s knuckles, Gertrude snapped, I can’t believe this. Marvin, you speak Ruishlind’s tongue! Why can’t you read it?

Rurik, a man of Breyton’s age who was their top military advisor, defended, "Your majesty, he did read the letter as did I, but there are some points in there that you should specifically be aware of. And don’t listen to that blithering idiot over there." Rurik pointed at Marvin.

As Gertrude took the letter from her husband she said, I usually don’t.

The men exchanged nervous looks with each other as the queen unfolded the parchment. After a moment of blurred letters reminding her of her mortality, Gertrude extended her hand, holding the letter farther and farther back until the symbols became clear.

Would you like me to hold it for you? Aleksie asked from the far side of the room with a smile as he mocked the frailty of the queen.

Do it and accept it as your resignation slip, Gertrude added, looking up from her letter with her own mocking smile. Aleksie, Breyton, and Rurik saw the humor in this, but Marvin was already annoyed with the queen.

The momentarily held lightness of the room dropped as Gertrude read the letter:

Honorable Majesties-

I am the Duke of Alonsa county in Ruishlind, brother to the King of my great country. I am writing to formally announce that I intend to visit your shores in early spring when the weather is fair enough for travel. The pair of you may be too young to know that it is the tradition of non-ruling men in my family to take a wife of noble blood from your lands to remind us of the unity between our two great nations. My own wife holds the blood of your nation. It is important for my kin to hold fast to this tradition to maintain the intimate connections to our shared pasts. My son, Boyan, is now at age to wed. I recognize that it is presumptuous of us, but I hope that this letter will settle with you well and provide you time to groom a prospective lady for my heir.

While I cannot be expected to discuss the matter of the gentleman that came from your shores to seek refuge in my lands, please know that I hold high respect for your laws. Vitenka has always been a welcoming country and I look forward to visiting its shores for the second time in my life.

I should be arriving sometime in May, weather and seas permitting. I hope that we will find you all well and with thriving prosperity.

Tolenka C. Bronya, Duke of Alonsa, Kin of the King

The lady read the letter twice to ensure she read it correctly. The second time around did not take off the edge. "It’s certainly telling of