Chapter 13

Sumon

Nathan gave one last push and then walked away from her body, panting, his body sweating. He lay next to her and put his arm over his eyes, trying to catch his breath.

Sumon took a deep breath as she turned her head away from her husband, looking at the wooden cabinet next to the bed. On the surface was a necklace with a cord of black cloth, to which was tied a small blue stone that seemed to light up when the dim light of the torch hung on the wall hit it.

Nathan took it off before he got naked and went to bed with her. Since they were married and spent the nights together, Nathan always took it off, but he never kept it away from himself. He never separated from that object.

Sumon wasn’t sure if that gesture was out of respect for Sumon or his old lover. Even though he never said it, Sumon knew that object belonged to her. Sumon saw it from how he carried it and protected it as if that stone were alive.

Her. The woman who, after all those years, still made him beat what little heart he had left after learning the news of the girl’s death.

Sumon remembered those days. Nathan had remained locked in his chambers and did not go out, eat, or cry. He did nothing but sit and stare at the void, feeling guilty for an accident no one was guilty of except the foolish bandits.

Sumon looked away from that amulet and sighed as she rose from the vast canopy bed, picked up her silk robe, and approached the table in the middle of the room while Nathan stood on his back with his arm over his eyes. Sumon didn’t know if he had fallen asleep or just stood there waiting for her to leave.

The frost of the hard stone floor tickled her bare heels as she walked. She took an empty cup on the table and filled it with water. As she drank, she walked towards the huge window that occupied much of the wall in front of the table, then looked through the glass on which the royal coat of arms was engraved. From there, she could see the western part of the city and the large walls surrounding and protecting it. From there, she could see some lanterns in the streets. They looked like little bright dots in the middle of all that darkness. The moon was covered with dark clouds signaling the arrival of an intense thunderstorm. Finally, she thought. After months without any rain, finally, the farmers could breathe a sigh of relief, or at least this, he hoped. The rainy season had begun long ago, but the Gods had yet to grant them the grace of a storm to help the now-dry harvests.

Temperatures had increased in the last year, and the days had lengthened. The climate reminded her more and more of her home, Devian.

Her teachers had always told her that it was not good when one of the kingdoms began to change the climate: it was always an omen of misfortune.

Why in Devian had I never seen snow fall from the sky?

She had always imagined the city colored white and the flowers sprouting from the snow to give liveliness to the cold.

When she asked her teachers why, they always told her that that was their mother’s will, Waruld.

Sighing, she walked away from the window and approached the table to pour more water. The room was semi-dark, illuminated by the faint light of a torch hanging on the wall and the candlestick on the table. The fireplace was almost completely turned off. To keep it lit, there was a faint flame in the middle of the brazier. Nevertheless, the room had that warmth that made it cozy and warm enough for the night.

She sat on a chair. A few cards were placed on the table, and Sumon slowly flipped them while drinking. The letters came from different places in the kingdom. Many villages were in trouble, but King Urian, or the council, was not interested in helping them properly. In her heart, she hoped that at least Nathan could do something.

She moved the letters one by one as she read the contents.

Request for help.

Request for help.

Request for help.

She wondered how long those letters had reached the masters and whether those old men had brought the problem to the board.

The bed creaked as Nathan moved. Sumon looked in his direction as she watched her husband get up and put on his trousers. The shoulders moved with every movement of the arms. That was usually when one left the room after fulfilling his marital duties. In silence, one of the two dressed disappears into the dark fortress.

Sumon hoped to get pregnant soon, restore some balance, ensure her and her husband’s safety, give the crown a legitimate heir, and calm the board.

She drank again, emptied the cup, and placed it on the table. It was time to return to her room.

Before she could move, Nathan approached and sat down next to her. His chest was uncovered, and a hand was passed between his blond hair, gently ruffling them, while he stretched out his other arm to take the carafe with water and poured it into the cup slowly. While drinking, he reached out and took Sumon’s letters without making eye contact with her.

She was used to it.

“These are letters that arrived a few months ago,” he said quietly. “The masters thought it right not to show them to the king or the council, not to change anything. They would have done nothing, anyway.” Sumon moved a strand of red hair behind her ear and took Nathan’s letter.

“A letter from Eldhia?” Nathan nodded. Sumon began to read its contents.

“Support a usurper?” she asked, upset.

“The masters forgot to show this letter to the council,” Nathan snorted.

“I think it’s time to change masters,” Sumon told him. A smile appeared on Nathan’s mouth, but he immediately became serious.

“However, strangely enough, the lords were already aware of this request from the northern king and had already made individual decisions.” Nathan poured more water staring at the void for a moment.

“Without the king’s approval?” Sumon asked in surprise. That kingdom was entirely in chaos, and the king’s absence worsened the situation daily.

Nathan laughed bitterly. “When I asked for explanations, they told me they had the king’s permission. They unrolled that damned parchment with the royal seal and so much pride that I would have punched them one by one,” he said harshly. Nathan wasn’t known to lose his temper.

“Did the king give consent?” Deciding to meddle in the civil wars of other kingdoms was not wise; taking sides during a civil war could cause a kingdom to collapse.

Sumon knew many alliances had collapsed over the centuries because of those wrong choices. If she knew, she doubted the facts were unknown to King Urian.

“My father is not at his best condition right now.” Nathan placed the cup on the table and took the letter.

Sumon looked at him, confused, her husband fixed his eyes on the parchment; the blue eyes were dark. Sumon looked at his profile, his jaw clenched, his blond hair gently falling back on his forehead, his fingers squeezing the paper, crumpling it a little. Nathan sighed as he looked up at her, staring at her with his eyes as blue as the ocean looking out of her bedroom window when she was a child.

“Any sheet one puts in his hands, he signs it without any problem. He does not understand what he is told, and the lords have taken advantage of his mental condition.” He rested at the back of the chair and raised his head towards the ceiling closing his eyes, his eyelids narrow, and his breath deep.

Sumon knew Nathan’s suffering to see his father sick, he suffered to see anyone sick. He absorbed that pain and took it as his own as if he could feel what someone else was feeling. But Sumon also knew that Nathan needed to be strong and intelligent if he didn’t want to lose his kingdom. If it had happened, all the sacrifices he had made over the years would have been in vain, and Nathan would have sunk even more in remorse and guilt for the decisions made.“You should take advantage of it, too,” she suggested.

“I did,” Nathan said, surprising Sumon. “I hate having to resort to such means.”

Nathan opened his eyes, stood still, looked at the ceiling, and breathed deeply. “I summoned Master Nemet, the only one I can still trust.” He passed a hand through the blond hair, ruffling them slightly. “I made him write that damned will, he sealed it, and my father signed it as if nothing had happened. He didn’t even read it. He just signed.”

He squeezed his hand in a fist and placed it on the table.

“And if the lords contest it? They could always say that you have taken advantage of the king’s condition”, Sumon noted.

“They won’t. I could do the same and hang them one by one for treason”, he snarled.

“What are you referring to?”.

Nathan started fiddling with the piece of paper.

“I let them send a garrison north,” he whispered as if he feared someone would hear.

“Nathan...»” He turned to her, the blue irises of his eyes reflected the flames of the candlestick. “Taking sides in a civil war is risky. It’s too dangerous a bet. If you lose, if the usurper fails, we will go to war with the north and the rightful queen.”

“Let’s leave them this way for now. At least for now, I have control over the lords.” Sumon was about to say something else, but Nathan blocked her before she could speak. “I’ll send someone trustworthy to control the troops. When they arrive at the confrontation, we will ensure they do not intervene unless the result is certain.”

“Is this your brilliant plan? Going to war when it’s already over? It’s cowardly.”

“It is necessary. But still, it probably won’t come to a confrontation. The queen doesn’t have enough troops.” Nathan stood up behind her and put his hand on her neck.

“Who will you send? Doreon?” she asked, trying not to point out the fear in the timbre of her voice.

“At the moment, I need him here more,” Nathan sighed. “Pix has just taken his father’s place. He is very young, but I trust him more now than all the snakes of the council so that he will go with the troops to the north, and I will have control over them.”

“Are you sure?” Sumon looked up at him. “Doreon is your best man, the most trusted person you have, you should send him.” Despite her fear for his safety, Sumon knew that Doreon was the perfect man for that kind of assignment, the only one so loyal to his cause and that he would carry out any orders he had set up until the end, without changing his mind.

Nathan gently stroked her neck.

“That’s why I need him here,” he replied, gently massaging her.

He broke away from her and approached the fireplace, squatting by the fire. She moved what remained in the brazier with the iron poker, and a faint flame began to stir again, gently illuminating her husband’s vault; he bent over and took a log of wood before throwing it into the fireplace, immediately the wood was surrounded by flames that began to come to life violently.

“Doreon’s presence in the city and his role in the council are crucial to keeping some lords happy. It is only because of him that some lords still follow my father,” Nathan said.

Sumon frowned, not understanding what he was referring to, but Nathan got up and went back to the table before he could ask. With a blow, he blew out all the candles of the silver candlestick, making the room darker, only the fire of the walk illuminated the space, making it warm.

Sumon quietly watched her husband move from one side to the other, not knowing exactly what to do. It was probably time to return to her rooms, after all, they had already fulfilled their duties, and there was nothing else to do. She took the last sip of water and placed the cup on the table. She got up, ready to leave the room, but Nathan handed her his hand.

“Let’s go back to bed, I’m tired.” That phrase surprises Sumon.

For Nathan, it was a considerable effort, he was not used to sleeping or sharing anything with her, but lately, he was doing his best to open up and talk openly about his doubts, looking for help from her. It made her feel better.

He had never mistreated her, ever since they were married, Nathan had always done his best to make her feel comfortable. He never made any promises of love, but he never disrespected her. And now he treated her like her equal, listened to her, and asked for her advice, which made her feel more important than her due.

Sumon rose and walked up to the bed, taking off her robe. She remained completely naked.