At Dawn's Light

Chapter 4: To Be A Queen

“Why do Phalen and Jax get to ride, and I have to sit in this thing," Rowan sulked as she banged her head once again against the wall of the wagon as it rocked side to side. Lea smiled and shrugged. The handmaiden had given up trying to make her lady more cheerful over an hour ago. Rowan would take a while to adjust to her new home and situation. It was going to be a long ride to the uncle's city.

Rowan could see Phalen talking to the King and another man dressed in dark leather and riding a sand-coloured horse. Judging from the clothing, Rowan could assume the man was a general or guard of some sort. The sword that hung at the man's side stood out starkly against the man's thigh.

“He has to be strong to lift that thing, “Rowan thought to herself. Her view was suddenly blocked by Jax and Dunny.

“The king is going to stop the caravan and rest for the night."

“To be fair to the horses, I say agree," sighed Rowan, who inwardly was relieved to finally stop the constant bumping and rattling of the wagon.

Fires were built, horses fed and watered, and food cooked. King Gregan began eating with a small group of men, but when he saw Rowan waiting for Lea to bring soup, he made his way over.

“I heard your trip so far has been anything but comfortable."

Rowan stood with her bowl of soup, watching it cool, “I would rather be on a horse's back than in a rattling box, to be honest, uncle...your Majesty."

Gregan's mouth twitched, a smile threatened to appear, “You do learn. My brother did teach you manners after all. You may call me uncle in private, but Majesty all other times. Understood?"

Against her feelings, Rowan smiled and curtseyed. The king moved away but spoke over his shoulder, "You are going to live a different life now, Rowan. I give you my word to do what I think is right."

He turned and went back to his group of men. A single tear ran from Rowan's eye.

Lea brought the soup, and Rowan noticed her handmaiden's flushed cheeks. When asked if she was alright, Lea nodded. She glanced over at the king's companion, who happened to be looking at her.

Rowan giggled, “Does Lea have a sweetheart?"

“Oh my lady," blushed Lea. “He spoke to me very kindly while I was getting soup. That's all. He is General Tarik."

Rowan rolled her eyes, “You are allowed to like a man, Lea."

Lea touched her slightly pointed ears, “Not really, my lady."

The women ate their soup and made their beds in the wagon. Rowan decided the wagon was more comfortable when it was still than when in motion.

In the early hours of the morning, Rowan woke to the sounds of horses being harnessed. She cleaned up quickly and joined Lea outside. Jax had Dunvelli saddled and ready to go.

“Your uncle told me to have him ready," Jax smiled.

Rowan felt the walls on her heart starting to crumble but pushed any thoughts aside as she mounted.

“I will see you both when we get there."

King Gregan rode up beside her once they had been on the road awhile.

After a time of questions to get to know each other, the king asked her what lessons she had been given growing up in the River Keep.

“I can read, write, dance, ride horses, and basic archery," Rowan paused when her uncle raised his eyebrows with a quiet laugh. “I know etiquette, proper dress for celebrations, and helped father stock the Keep."

Rowan only paused because her voice caught in her throat at the mention of her old home.

Gregan rode closer, “Handling a small Keep is much different than running a palace and city."

“Father let me come with him when he tended to things," the pain in her heart reminded her how much she missed her father, however, her uncle was right, “But you are correct, I don't know much about palace life."

King Gregan nodded.

Feeling brave, Rowan asked, “Why didn't you visit us more? Where you angry at my father?"

Surprised, her uncle went silent. Before Rowan could apologize, he answered her shortly.

“No, I was never angry at your father. A king isn't as free to do as he pleases as people think he is."

The only sound to be heard was the songbirds waking up, and the soft thudding of the horses' hooves on the dirt road.

“You had another uncle, but he was killed in an ambush soon after your father married your mother," King Gregan looked at Rowan who nodded. She knew the story. Her grandfather got angry at her father, blaming him for not being there, but the grandfather had told him to stay home.

Rowan wanted to ask more, but the King suddenly rode ahead to talk to his general. When they reached the city, they entered the palace complex through a subtle, back gate. Jax took Dunvelli, and Lea ignored the glares to follow Rowan inside.

It was late in the evening when King Gregan summoned Rowan to a small hall. He had been speaking with some advisors, including Lea's interest General Tarik. Rowan struggled not to smile when she saw him pass by. She went to stand by her uncle by the low fire. She could tell he had been drinking and took a discreet step back.

“I am going to honour your father by giving you the care and education fit for a queen. He would do the same for my child if I had one."

Rowan tilted her head and clasped her hands in front of herself, “Your Majesty, I don't know how much more you think I need to learn? I had a Lady's education as soon as I was old enough."

“Ha," said her uncle. “Yes, you have been taught how to be a lady, but you will need more than that to survive here."

He began to pace methodically, and when he passed the fire for the third time, he stopped by her. She looked into the stormy, blue eyes of a half-drunk King who had thought deeply about what he was going to say next.

“To be a queen, dear Rowan, you will need to have more than a crown, title, and castle," her uncle nodded, and reaching out, tapped his niece on her head. “You need to look harmless, but have the knowledge to win a war with words, and the courage."

“But I'm not a queen," Rowan stated blandly.

"Quiet."

She saw her uncle look at her as if from far away, then turn his attention to the window, hands crossed behind his back.

“Tomorrow, you start lessons."