III: Orsella

The sound of bells woke her up the next morning. They rang across the whole city with loud and slow clangs. Slowly, Orsella sat up, half-expecting the ringing to be her maids knocking. It took her a moment to realise that the source of the noise was actually from the city and not the other side of the wooden door.

As she got up, still wearing her dress from last night, Orsella opened the shutters on one of her windows. Down the slope of High-Mountain, each and every one of the bells in the city rang loudly. *What’s the occasion? Did Fa do this for me?* At the thought of her father, Orsella’s cheeks grew hot. She sat back in one of her chairs, plopping herself down with a sigh.

*“I don’t* want *him! And I don’t need you to give me a husband!”*

*Amatera, I must have sounded like a child.* She buried her face in her hands. *I made a fool of myself in front of all those men.* She wished she could just go back to bed and sleep forever. To hide from her father and never see the surely disappointed look on his face when she saw him next. *But why did he have to try to marry me off to that Van Por man?*

She sat there for a while, a pit of guilt growing in her stomach the more she replayed last night’s outburst in her head. *I am a princess of house Din Trellis. I embarrassed the Empire last night. Today calls for a public apology.* But the acceptance didn’t quell the shame she was feeling. The more she thought about it, the hotter her cheeks felt. *The first of which will be Fa.*

A frantic knock on Orsella’s door woke her from her thoughts. “Princess Orsella!” Malara’s voice, high-pitched and breathless, came from the other side. *Finally. Where in Shinda’s Domain have they been?* Before Orsella could even say anything, another bout of knocking came.

“Come in!” she yelled through the door, not even bothering to stand. The door was pushed open and Malara crept in. “There you are. Why haven’t you woken me? It looks almost midday.” It was then that she noticed the wet patches that were now Malara’s eyes. Tears ran down her cheeks and she sniffed loudly. “Dear girl, what is it?” she asked, softer than before.

“Your Highness…it’s…it’s…” Malara’s eyes were wide as if gripped by fear. *Or sorrow.* “I’ve been…I’ve been sent to tell you to come to…to…”

“Out with it, already!” Orsella rose from her chair, panic began to grip her heart, making it beat faster.

“It’s…it’s the King,” she couldn’t manage to say much more. But it was enough for her to understand. *No.* She pushed past Malara, not caring about her crinkled dress or her messy hair. *She’s lying. The bitch is lying!* Soon she was running. Running faster than she had her whole life. When they were young, she and Cormac had played in the fields surrounding High-Mountain, running and leaping and climbing the trees. It had always worried the guards that had been watching them, but never their father. Despite all the running they had done back then, it didn’t compare to the way she ran now. Barefoot. Desperate. Her heart pounding in her chest.

People stared at her, some looking shocked at the sight of her clothes or her hair. Most looked sad. They dropped their heads or took off their hats in her presence, fleeting though it was as soon, she was rounding another corner or pushing through another set of doors. *It’s not true. It’s not true!* Outside, the bells still rang.

Soon, she was there. The door was guarded by two men at either side. They both bowed their heads as she approached, her eyes stinging. The one on the left pulled the door open and let her in.

The King’s chambers were dark. The curtains were drawn and the only light source was a lantern perched by the giant bed in the centre. On it, his hands folded together on his chest, Rellan Din Trellis lay still and silent. Orsella couldn’t hold it in any longer. A sob escaped her mouth and tears began to fall. Kneeling next to the bed, her Aunt Qyther looked up. Her eyes were also wet and her lip trembled at the sight of her niece. *He’s just asleep. They’re overreacting.*

“Orsella…” Qyther whispered, holding out a hand. “Dear girl…come.” She stumbled forwards, dropping to her knees next to her aunt and taking her hand. Orsella’s palms were sweaty and wet with the tears she was trying to stop, but she didn’t care. Even through the blurriness of her vision, she could see the stillness of her father’s chest. The stiffness of his body. When she reached out to him, his hand was cool and she instinctively pulled away.

“What happened to him?” she managed eventually, her chest heaving. “What happened…what happened to him?” A polite cough came from the corner of the room, where Robyn Dan Jaeger stood, hands behind his back and eyes on the floor. Even worse, Voice Taylor sat in a chair next to him, his eyes were closed and if not for his quiet mutterings to the gods, Orsella would have thought him asleep.

“Your Highnesses”—his brown eyes flitted between her and Qyther as he spoke softly—“One of the servants found him like this at sunrise. I had a few Kishi look at him. It seems that he died in his sleep during the night. I’m told it was…quite peaceful.”

“But…but he was alright last night!” she cried. Dan Jaeger shrugged, his face losing its stillness by the second and falling deeper into despair.

“Shinda may come and take whomever They want at a moment’s fancy,” he told her. “They must have thought it was time for…for the King to leave us.”

“And send his soul to the Sun Realm, no doubt,” Voice Taylor’s eyes opened slowly. He stood and approached the bed, pulling a small vial—barely the length of his thumb and filled with dirt—from a pocket beneath his white robes. He pulled the cork out, poured some of the dirt into his hand and let it fall over Rellan’s face. “May you never forget from whence you came.”

“And may you find peace wherever you go,” Qyther finished. Her voice had lost all its softness, but Orsella still heard the sigh when she finished speaking. *How could this have happened? He died in his sleep? It’s not possible!* She wanted to shake him. Maybe he was just deep in sleep. Maybe if she could wake him up, then she could apologise for shouting at him the night before. But it was too late, she knew. If she grabbed him now—shook him until her arms hurt—it would make no difference. There would be no waking the King.

“I beg your pardon, Highnesses,” Robyn said after a few minutes. Orsella couldn’t bear to look away from Rellan, but Qyther turned towards him. “I understand this is difficult, but…”—he sighed deeply—“we should begin preparations for Pri…King Cormac’s return. He could be here any day now. Even today, perhaps.” *Yes, that’s right. Cormac will be king now.*

“He doesn’t even know,” Orsella said softly, the flow of tears had stopped but her whole body still felt empty and fragile. “He doesn’t know that Fa’s dead. He never got to say goodbye…*I* didn’t get to say goodbye.” *The last I saw him, I was screaming in his face.*

Next to her, Aunt Qyther shook her head. “You mustn't think like that child,” she told her. “He knew you loved him, as you know he did.” She pulled Orsella into her arms.

Robyn turned to Voice Taylor. “Have the other Voices bring the King’s body to the Grand Temple. Have him preserved until King Cormac’s arrival.” Taylor bowed politely and crept to the door. Before he could reach it, however, the door burst open, almost knocking the Voice over. A tall boy with a wispy moustache entered, carrying a roll of parchment and a large package. His eyes first landed on the King’s body but quickly turned to the others.

“Are you trying to kill me, boy?” Voice Taylor asked. “What is the meaning of this?”

“M’lords…a man’s just arrived…claims he’s from Prince Cormac’s caravan,” the boy panted. Orsella finally tore her eyes from her father. *He’s here?*

“Cormac…” she managed. “Where…how long until he reaches High-Mountain?” the boy seemed startled to hear her speak.

“I…um…”

“Out with it, boy!” Lord Dan Jaeger yelled.

“Prince Cormac…he’s…he’s dead, m’lords.” The words hung in the air for a few moments, almost suffocating Orsella with their meaning.

“What?” she whispered. “What did you say?”

The boy gulped. “the man…a Knight, he is. Says their host was attacked. Prince Cormac fell during their escape,” he told them. Robyn’s mouth hung open. In the darkness of the room, he almost looked pale. “He was…he was told to bring these to you.” He held out the parchment and the package and placed them on the bed next to Rellan’s legs. Orsella pulled the package closer. *Not a package. A sword.*

When she pulled the blade from its sheath, the sword gleamed in what little light was in the room. *Forrin’s Gift*. Made specifically for Branden Din Trellis by his father, passed on to his son, Rellan Din Trellis, and passed on to Cormac Din Trellis.

“Cormac…” it was the last word she could manage before breaking down into more tears. *There has to be some mistake. This isn’t Forrin’s Gift*. *It can’t be. It’s a lie.* Then she noticed the parchment. On it, the symbol of House Din Trellis was printed in wax.

“By Gaius…” Robyn gazed at the sword. “That’s *Forrin’s Gift*. I’d recognise the Black-Steel anywhere.”

Orsella shook her head violently. “It can’t be Cormac’s sword! He can’t be dead. Not him, too!”

“Look at it, girl,” Qyther said, her voice cold. “Look at it. We’ve both seen this sword too many times. On my brother. On yours. We both know what it looks like.” It was true. Black-Steel itself was hard enough to come by. The mixture of Obsidian and Steel was said to be ten-fold sharper than a regular sword. And prettier, too. Orsella couldn’t tell if the blade reflected or consumed the light that hit it. It shimmered brilliantly at one point but was almost invisible to the eye at another.

Orsella pushed the sword back into its sheath, collapsing onto the side of the bed. *Fa dead. Cormac dead. In the space of a half-hour, I’ve become an orphan and an only child.*

*An only child of the King…*

“Wait,” Voice Taylor said. “If Prince Cormac is truly dead, then that means…” he turned to Orsella. Robyn, Qyther, even the boy who delivered the message, all looked at her as they realised. *No.*

“No,” she whispered, emotion choking her.

“All hail,” Robyn said, dropping to one knee. The boy and Qyther did the same. Voice Taylor followed slowly. “Orsella of House Din Trellis. Queen of the Din Trellis Empire. Queen of Tochi and all its lands.”

“No, this isn’t right,” Orsella managed. “I’m not supposed to be…I’m not…this isn’t what I’m supposed to do!” She got up and took a few steps back, her heart racing. “Stop kneeling! Stop it!” Voice Taylor was the first to rise. For once, he didn’t look at her with his usual disgusting gaze. Next, Robyn and the boy. Finally, Qyther stood and flattened out the creases on her dress.

“Gentlemen,” she barely looked at the other men, but their heads immediately turned to her. “Please leave us. Have the Voices come and collect my brother in a moment.”

As they each bowed and turned to leave, Qyther kept her eyes on Orsella, whose breath was ragged. When the door finally shut, she stepped closer to her, her face like stone. She reached forwards and smoothed back the mess that was Orsella’s hair.

“Listen to me,” she said. There was a softness to her voice, but it was well hidden behind her usual hard tone. “There are a great many things that should not have happened, Orsella. My brother should not be dead, nor should Cormac.” Qyther produced a handkerchief and began wiping away at Orsella’s wet cheeks “But this is not a just world. And the fact remains that you are the Queen, now. What you want no longer matters. What you desire is no longer of anybody’s concern. From this moment until your dying breath, you are no longer Princess Orsella. You are the Queen of the Din Trellis Empire. You are no longer human, you are a symbol. The sooner you get used to that fact, the better.

“Do you know how many queens Tochi has had, child? One.” Slowly, Orsella nodded her head, vaguely remembering the story. “Mariella the Murderess. She’s the only example the people have to go on. *She’s* the one they’re going to compare you to.”—she put her hand on Orsella’s now dry cheek—“Her…and your father, I’m afraid.”

Orsella shook her head. “I…I can’t do this. I can’t be as good as him.” She looked at her father for a moment, but the sight just made her eyes sting.

“Then don’t try to be,” she told her. “You aren’t your father, but you still have Din Trellis blood. Over two-hundred years of *relatively* good kings flow through your heart. You have the opportunity to be the first *good* queen this land has ever had.” For a few moments, Orsella could not speak. That morning, she was just a princess waiting for her maids to dress her. Now…

“I’m the Queen.” The words sounded wrong coming out of her mouth. Qyther nodded slowly.

“Now you understand,” she said, her eyes softening a little. “Now, come. We have a funeral *and* a coronation to have planned.”

## Trivia

* Last appearance of Rellan Din Trellis (body)
* First mention of Mariella the Murderess