The Northern Gate: Two Worlds

IV. - The Princess of Darkness

The cold night wind blew as the double doors of the Castle opened. The entire court clapped and cheered as the cavalry was revealed. Under the doorway stood a majestic black horse whose coat was as dark as the night sky above. It had a golden saddle, upon which an even more majestic knight sat. He was wearing a black metallic armor that covered his head down to his toes. On his chest lay a golden sigil of a lion's head. A long sword sheathed in black leather dangled on his side. Behind him was a gathering of at least thirty guards on horses, and beyond was a melee of soldiers on foot carrying flags and banners of the Castle Gustav.

Amy stared, breathless. From where she stood, she saw the Duke dismount from his horse in a single, graceful motion. Now on foot, the Duke stood tall, even taller than his high horse as it seemed to Amy. She couldn't help but stare as he removed his helmet and shook his head free of the armor. He didn't have long golden hair that flowed like a river, as Amy suspected. Instead, the Duke had short, black hair that hung just past his ears and just above his shoulders. His skin was almost as pale as snow, and his jawline stood out stubbornly. Amy couldn't see the fine details of his face, but from a distance, she knew that the Duke was as handsome as Mathilde had told her to be.

A guard walked to the Duke's horse and pulled it away with its reins as he made his way forward. The clapping and cheering of the court subsided as she saw Mathilde and Ser Gideon approach him.

Amy was so focused on her husband that she didn't notice the guards who stood at the hall’s corners were now standing opposite each other along the aisle. Their swords were drawn overhead. As Duke Henri, Mathilde and Gideon passed through, the guards folded their arms and tucked their swords back into their sheaths like clockwork. Amy held her hand over her chest. She could swear that her heart wanted to burst out of her rib cage and run away. The Duke saw Amy as he neared the throne and locked stares with her. His face looked like an angel with its cold beauty. Duke Henri smiled at her, and she felt a chill run down her spine. She wanted the floor to swallow her as she didn't know what to do. The entire court was silent when the Duke reached his throne. Mathilde and Ser Gideon stood at the bottom of its steps.

"Your Grace," whispered Mathilde.

Amy turned to look and saw that Mathilde was gesturing her to the smaller chair beside the Duke. She didn't know where to look, much less what to do. She turned her eyes to Gideon for reassurance, but he wasn't looking at her.

Duke Henri was watching her intently, and the crowd’s eyes were all on her. She swallowed the big lump beginning in her throat and took a nervous step forward. "Here goes nothing," she whispered to herself as she went to take the side of the throne. Instinct told her to curtsy in front of the Duke, just like how the queens bow before their kings in movies.

"My Duchess," said Duke Henri. His voice was deep and cold. It sent a shiver to her body. He took her hand and kissed it. "I've longed for you. You look stunning tonight, my love," he added.

"L-likewise?" she wasn't sure what to say. "I'm sorry, I don't know what to say. Nerves." What are you talking about? Shut up already, Amy!

At that, her husband just smiled and gestured for her to take her seat. She sat down before the Duke did, and she saw Mathilde's head sway in disapproval. She intended to stand up again–

"It's alright, my love. There is no need for you to wait for me to sit first," reassured Duke Henri as he sat down. "You can sit whenever you like."

The entire court sat down in silence.

Amy was sure her face was melting in embarrassment. "Thank you, Your Grace," was all she said.

The Duke laughed a little, and Amy felt a genuine kindness emanate from him, just like how you could tell on the spot if a stranger is nice or mean at first sight. "I now see what Mathilde meant earlier. She said you are not quite you, my love." There was his smile again. "Blast that Avernatti. I'm glad Gideon ripped its head," he added, a tinge of rage creeping in his voice.

Ripped its head, the words echoed inside Amy's skull. Sensing his anger, Amy knew even if the Duke was genuinely kind, no one could cross him. "You mean Ser Gideon killed that giant hairball?" She didn't know that her knight had beheaded the poor creature. She didn't ask for the gruesome details. She only knew it was killed.

"Beheaded, my love. Mathilde sent me a raven telling me you finally came back from your quest and that an Avernatti was responsible for the loss of your memories. She also told me that Gideon sliced its head clean." He broke his stare at her and looked at the crowd. "I rode back here as soon as I read the message. Forgive me. I wasn't around to protect you. Still, I'm delighted to know you are still in one piece."

"Yeah, I'm alright. No need to worry," she tried to say 'my love,' but it felt unnatural. "Your Grace," she said instead. She was shaking in her seat but was relieved that the Duke had bought her alibi and had no suspicions about her. Yet. So far, her plans were working.

At that, he just nodded and began addressing the court. "Hear me, my dear city of Saphira," he said as he rose from his throne. His voice sounded so loud even though he wasn't shouting. Magic, Amy thought, fascinated. The walls also seemed to glow brighter as he spoke, and she remembered that the enchanted facades drew their light from the Duke's power. "Let us celebrate my and my betrothed's safe return to the Castle! Feast, eat and drink to your heart's content!"

The entire court roared in delight, and the Duke had to wait for the shouting to subside. "A fortnight ago, I was summoned to the Great Hall by the King. His Highness extends his gratitude to each and every dweller of the land for the undying support to the Kingdom." He paused for a brief moment. "As a matter of fact, The King has sent a caravan of supplies of food, medicine, and precious metals to the city! So rejoice, my dear court, for peace and prosperity!"

The court roared again. The Duke sat down, and music started to fill the air. Amy looked and saw a marching band enter the double doors of the castle and flood the aisle with their festive tunes and sounds. The crowd was euphoric. She turned to look at Duke Henri. Despite the festivities, he wasn't smiling. "Mathilde," Duke Henri called out.

He gestured the head courtier to his side. The elderly servant obliged. She curtsied before she climbed to the throne and approached the Duke. Her husband leaned in and whispered something to Mathilde. The head courtier bowed, not curtsied, and went away gingerly.

He's lying, Amy thought. She wanted to ask Duke Henri the real reason for the summon as she remembered Gretta's words. These endless halls would not bother you anymore, for you are not going to stay here for long. She took a deep breath.

"Are you sure you are alright, my love?" asked the Duke, breaking her out of her reverie. "Do you want to eat? You look pale, my Duchess. I can have the courtiers bring food to your chambers if you don't want to eat here."

Amy's stomach rumbled. She was really hungry. The last meal she ate was breakfast buns back in New York. It seemed a long time ago. She also felt a little light-headed from the chaos of the feast before her. "Yes, Your Grace," she replied. "Aside from, you know, the memory loss, I am fine. Though, I'd love to eat dinner in my chambers." She thought of the twelve flights of stairs and the seemingly endless halls. She pitied the courtier who'd bring her food upstairs.

"As you wish, my love," answered Duke Henri. "Go now, have your rest. I'll have a courtier attend to you. I still have matters that need attending."

"Thank you, Your Grace," she said as she stood and bowed before the Duke. She left the hall with a sigh of relief as she would not need to keep up with her false identity. Long halls and twelve flights of stairs seemed easier than keeping up with the Duke. As she passed the stairs to her chambers, the guards gave her a salute. She didn't bother greeting them back.

She opened the door to her chambers and sat on the bed. She undid her boots and freed her aching feet from the oppression of tight leather. She propped herself across the mattress. She stared at the ceiling above her. Her thoughts were racing, as did her heart. Did the Duke lie to the entire court? What were his reasons? Or maybe she was just paranoid? Maybe she was just overthinking the things that Gretta had told her. The night had gotten deeper, and she felt sleepy and tired. Amy started to drift off, but a knock came on the door. "Who is it?" she asked.

"It is I, Gretta, Your Grace," the voice said behind her door. "I have brought your food as the Duke requested."

"Come in. The door's open," Amy said. She could feel a wave of irritation creep into her voice for a reason she could not explain. Maybe she was just drained. The door opened and revealed the young courtier with a tray of food that seemed to Amy could feed a whole family. Gretta entered and brought the tray down to the bedside table. She curtsied and moved to leave the room.

"Gretta," said Amy, stopping the courtier in her tracks. "I have some things to ask you." She lifted herself up and out of bed and sat down on the chair beside the table. "Come here."

Gretta seemed to hesitate for a moment but then obliged. "Yes, Your Grace. What is it you require?" She was standing in front of Amy, still as a statue. Her eyes were deep and staring.

"Why did you lie to me, Gretta?"

"Pardon me, Your Grace?" Gretta seemed unshaken. Though for a moment, Amy thought she saw Gretta's eyes widen a bit, the courtier was still as motionless as a rock.

"You heard me," she replied. There was a hot bowl of soup among the tray of foods that Gretta had brought her. Amy wondered if the other girl would finally react if she poured the contents over her unmoving, innocent face. She didn't, though. "Why?"

Gretta finally answered. "I do not know what you speak of, Your Grace."

"Oh, drop your act," Amy lost it. She could feel the irritation begin to boil in her blood. She resisted the urge to slap Gretta's face with the tray. "Earlier, you told me that the Duke was summoned because of the events happening at Luxdale Castle. That does not appear to be the case," she said in a train of words.

"Oh, that," Gretta said unfazed. "If I were lying to you, Your Grace, why did the Duke call for an emergency council meeting? I couldn't imagine that they would talk about the festivities or the King's graciousness."

Amy was taken aback. "What did you say?"

"The Duke and the entire council of the city are about to gather as we speak. The meeting starts in about an hour."

"Where? How did you know this?"

"They are in the Council Chambers, on the second floor of the castle. I overheard the Duke when he summoned me to the Hall to bring you your food, Your Grace," cited Gretta.

Amy's irritation slowly dissipated to confusion and eventually to embarrassment. How could she accuse this young maiden of lying to her when all she said made sense? There was an awkward silence."I-I'm sorry, Gretta," she said weakly. "I didn't mean to offend you. I guess I'm just tired and all."

"I take no offense, Your Grace," she said and smiled. "I understand you must still be exhausted and confused from the blow you took from that Avernatti."

"I guess so."

"Would that be all, Your Grace?" asked Gretta, standing still.

"Yes, you may go," dismissed Amy. "Again, I'm sorry."

At that, Gretta did not reply but simply curtsied and walked out of the room. As the door closed behind her, Amy buried her face in her palms. She wanted answers, but now, she had more questions. She turned to look at the food Gretta had brought her and saw that the soup was no longer steaming. Her stomach turned at the thought of eating cold soup. She collapsed onto the bed, wanting to sleep, but restlessness caught up with her. Closing her eyes, she tried to convince the darkness to swallow her.

~o~