5 - Monsters of the Plains

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"I'm introducing Her Majesty, queen of the Forlorn Plains: Elanthin of house Verita."

Even though the maid glared at him with hostility, she seemed eager to present her mistress as protocol dictated it. Three hundred years stood between them, but neither one of the houses had changed their rigid ways.

Aetrian had no attention to spare for the maid. Instead, his gaze was glued to the frontmost rider; the woman's dark hair struggled against its loose braiding, while she stood in front of him with stiff posture. Her clothes bore the traces of a long distance travelled on horse and sleeping under the stars, as well as one or two drops of blood.

The difference in dress didn't surprise him; after all, Verita and Gratia had been fully separated for almost three hundred years. Her white dress was definitely shorter than anything he was used to and it was worn over a pair of close-fitted trousers. In the middle, a leather corset, adorned with the simplest embroidery, held it together. Aetrian couldn't discern if the piece was designed as armor or for fashion's sake but he considered the latter option unlikely. There were neither crown nor jewels on the dark-haired stranger; the only accessories she wore were two sheathed swords, bound to a leather belt around her hips.

Somehow, her aura was still strong enough to prove her station to Aetrian. This woman would be able to kill him with a single move and she didn't think of pretending otherwise.

When he finally snapped out of it, Ves was looking at him quizzically. He remembered that he hadn't responded to the introduction yet.

"My greetings, Your Majesty", he replied carefully. While the odd prisoner they'd caught trying to cross or harm the barrier had been enough to teach them the Veritan tongue, he wasn't a hundred percent sure if he'd mastered it in the eyes – and ears – of a Veritan. "I am king Aetrian of Gratia and the one you are meeting with."

"Very well",  said the dark-haired woman with a steady voice. If the fact that he was fluent in their language surprised her, she didn't let it show. "I am queen Elanthin and I have come to surrender my crown to His Majesty, the king of Gratia, as agreed upon in our official correspondence."

She'd held her head up high but now she sank into a deep reverence.

Aetrian flinched – and he wasn't alone in his reaction. Royalty didn't bow to royalty. Not if they thought that they would be treated as someone of the same level.

It was true that he had asked her to swear loyalty to Gratia and become a vassal, but the woman in front of him seemed to think that he wanted more. That he would take away her station on the harsh lands which the Veritans had struggled for a three hundred years to cultivate.

While Aetrian was rendered speechless, Elanthin straightened up and looked at him blankly. Her watery blue eyes resembled bottomless pools of water; as if she didn't think of or care for anything at all. Aetrian couldn't read her but that might've been for the best. If a queen addressed him like a servant would, he doubted that she would regard him in a kinder way than a prisoner would face his guard.

As he let his gaze wander over Elanthin's entourage, which consisted of six leather-armored soldiers and a poorly dressed maid, he felt a sudden twinge of guilt. This wasn't how a queen travelled. It wasn't even how a Gratian merchant travelled. Had it really been necessary to cast these people into the Forlorn Plains for such a long time?

If they were anything like the Gratians, none of them would remember by now why the original war was fought.

"I am pleased to hear that my conditions will be met", he replied with a dry mouth. "But you can address me directly – as we're both royalty."

"If Your Majesty wishes for it." Seemingly unfazed by the situation, she presented herself as collected as if she was out on a morning stroll. Nevertheless, her eyes were cast down and her tone demure.

What is she expecting?, Aetrian wondered. Calm as she was, she at least couldn't fear for her life.

"Y-your Majesty." The call came from his right, where Ves was glued to his side, binoculars raised. Usually, Aetrian would have ignored him in the middle of a conversation, but the slight tremble in Ves' voice made him wary. His aid wasn't someone who scared easily. "You should look behind our guests. Just for a moment."

Aetrian followed Ves' request and took the pair of binoculars from him, while the Plain's queen and her entourage kept eerily silent. He'd almost expected a hasty attempt at explaining or apologizing from the Veritans; perhaps Ves had been right and they'd come to dispose of his envoy. What could the aid have seen? Some sort of weapon? An army on the horizon?

First, he couldn't see anything but dust and stones. Before him lay the inhospitable Plains, empty as ever apart from a dark spot where the Veritan envoy's camp had been posted.

When he finally laid eyes on what had caught his aid's attention, he couldn't help but freeze up. There was undoubtedly something else amongst the leather rugs and sitting soldiers. The something was larger than a boar and dark; its color resembled the stormy night sky over their heads but it had long, scrawny legs, which he unconsciously refused to count, and milky eyes larger than his own head.

He had to look at it twice to recognize that it must be nothing less than a monster of the Deep, which the envoy had brought with them. A dead one, thankfully. Bound to two of their sturdy horses, they had dragged it here.

While the soldiers began to look towards him for orders, Aetrian scrutinized the corpse without haste. Finally, he turned towards Elanthin and strained himself to smile.

It might be true after all, he thought to himself. The Veritans are the true monsters of the Plains.

"You brought us a present, Your Majesty? How thoughtful."

#

Elanthin felt an unexpected rush, while she observed the foreign soldiers' reactions. Their eyes had widened at the sight of the Veritans' prey and their mouths dropped open until they resembled baby birds waiting to be fed.

Look all you want, she thought, and remember my people's strength. If they remembered, they would be more hesitant to mistreat the Veritans later on. When she wouldn't be there to protect them anymore.

She noticed a pair of amber eyes resting on herself and cleared her expression.

"It wasn't planned", she corrected the king's assumption. She wasn't desperate enough to bring a present to her own funeral – and she wanted him to know that. "But the Plains are brimming with those beasts these days. We had no choice but to bring it with us or the smell of blood would've roused more."

She watched patiently as the enemy soldiers tried to comprehend her reasoning. For all their shiny armor, they didn't seem used to the sight of monsters.

Suddenly, the eyes of the young man who stood next to Gratia's king widened.

"You're saying that you lured the beasts here so they wouldn't endanger the villages on your way?", he cried out in a language which was unfamiliar to Elanthin. Even though she could make out some of the words, it wasn't enough to put together a whole sentence. However, the man's voice was as sharp as his gaze, so Elanthin could vaguely infer what he was upset about. "What about us? Did you lure them towards the king on purpose?"

"Ves", said Aetrian sternly. He wasn't talking to his aid in the same, foreign tongue but in the Veritan dialect which Elanthin was used to. "Remember to speak politely."

The person named Ves bowed his head, although he seemed on the verge of protesting. Elanthin shot the man with the loose mouth a wary glance, while she was trying to put together one and one. If he spoke to his king in this manner, they had to be closer than their titles betrayed.

Then again, why should she care? She wouldn't have to deal with the Gratian antics for too long.

"My aid's way of speaking is rough but he wasn't entirely wrong to ask. Will there be danger coming our way?"

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