The Blind King
Authors: Lana Axe
The Blind King
Tales from N
ō
l’Deron
Lana Axe
Text copyright © 2014 Lana Axe
All Rights Reserved
Cover art by Michael Gauss
For Lisa
E
fren placed a
hand on his younger brother’s shoulder as they walked down the stone corridor
of the castle. Gannon led the way, his boots echoing against the polished
floor. Their father, the King of Ra’jhou, had an important announcement for Efren,
and Gannon had taken it upon himself to fetch his brother personally. Forbidden
from traveling the castle unaccompanied, Efren had not even been informed that
his father wished to see him. It was a rarity, as the king had little need of
his eldest son.
“Are you nervous?” Gannon asked.
“Not really,” Efren replied. He had a suspicion
why his father had summoned him. There could be only one reason. His life was
about to change, and he was looking forward to it. His marriage would bring him
the freedom he craved. Soon, he would be able to leave the castle and
experience life without his father’s many rules.
“I wonder if he’s chosen someone for me as well,”
Gannon commented as they continued down the passage.
“I doubt it,” Efren replied. “You are heir to the
kingdom. Your marriage announcement will likely be accompanied by a lavish
feast.” He grinned at his younger brother, knowing how much he hated attending
any type of celebration, especially if it involved dancing.
Blind since birth, Efren had never been considered
heir to the kingdom. When his brother Gannon was born, he was immediately given
the title. Efren, however, was not bitter. He loved his brother dearly, and he
had no desire to rule. Over the years, Gannon had proved himself a strong and
honorable man. Efren had every confidence in his brother’s ability to lead the
kingdom.
“To the right,” Gannon said, steering his brother
toward the throne room.
Though Efren had
the castle mapped out in his mind, he was never allowed to travel the halls
unaccompanied. King Nilan did not want to risk embarrassment should the prince
become lost within the castle’s walls. His mother, the queen, feared he might
wander away, never to be seen again. They had little confidence in their eldest
son’s abilities, and they looked upon him with sorrow.
Studying gave Efren
his escape from the mundane realities of life. He loved learning of the diverse
cultures of N
ō
l’Deron, and he particularly enjoyed history. His
tutors would read to him for hours while he sat and listened, his mind filled
with wonder. Having no playmates except his brother and sister, he had plenty
of time to imagine the sounds and smells of the far-off lands mentioned in his
lessons. He dreamed of traveling to distant regions, unfettered from the
demands of ruling a kingdom. It was a great relief to him to be spared the
responsibility.
Gannon spent most
of his days training with a sword, but he made every effort to spend time with
Efren. He did not understand his parents’ reasoning behind naming him heir, but
there was nothing he could do about it. His father’s word was law, and he had
resigned himself to his fate. He had proved himself a leader among the soldiers
he trained, choosing to focus his energy on military activities. Politics bored
him, and he much preferred action to sitting around a conference table.
The pair finally
reached the throne room and paused outside the door. Gannon turned to face his
brother. “I’m sure the king has chosen someone pretty for you,” he said. He
brushed at the dark blue tunic his brother wore to ensure it was in pristine
condition. Then he tugged at the black doublet he wore, hoping to make himself
presentable as well.
With a quiet laugh,
Efren replied, “It matters not to me.” To him, the acceptance of his future
wife meant far more than her pretty face. As long as she was good-natured and
had not been coerced into marrying a broken husband, he would, in time, grow to
love her.
“It’s a matter of
prestige for him,” Gannon replied. “She’ll be shown off at court, and they
wouldn’t want to encourage gossip if she were any less beautiful than a
princess.”
They stepped inside
the massive throne room, where the king and queen awaited them. Efren drew in a
breath and swallowed it, attempting to push away his nerves. The gathered
members of court fell silent as the young men took their place next to their
sister, Aubriana. With the three siblings side by side, their differences were
obvious. Efren was fair-haired with pale, crystal eyes. He stood a few inches
taller than his brother, but he was thinner, with less muscle. Gannon had
striking dark hair and eyes, and a muscular build. Aubriana was nearly as tall
as Gannon, but her hair was golden and her eyes deep blue. She wore a bright
yellow gown, resembling the image of her mother, the queen. The princess’s
beauty was unmistakable. She had no lack of suitors, and she worried who her
father would choose as her husband.
No smile graced the
king’s face as he looked upon his children. To him, marriage was a matter of
business, and today was no different from any other. “Efren, my son,” the king
said. “I have chosen for your bride the Lady Ryshel. She is daughter of the
Duke of Sarril. With the exception of your sister, she is the most beautiful
girl in the kingdom. You should be pleased.”
Efren stood forward
and knelt before his father. “I am pleased, Your Majesty. I thank you for your
generosity.” Rising back to his feet, he felt as if a weight had been lifted
from his shoulders. He had wondered if he might be sent to away to a different
kingdom, but it seemed his father had other ideas. It would have interested him
to travel away from Ra’jhou, the land he had always known. He doubted he would
ever set foot in the lands he had read about.
“My daughter, Aubriana,”
King Nilan said.
The princess
stepped forward and curtsied. Her heart was racing, and her face was pale. Time
seemed to stand still as she awaited her father’s words.
“You shall marry
Prince Ivor of Na’zora.”
Aubriana’s mouth
dropped open, but she could not protest. There had been strained relations
between her own kingdom and Na’zora. Skirmishes often broke out along Ra’jhou’s
southern border, and the Na’zoran king was not usually open to negotiations. It
would seem she was the price of peace between the two kingdoms, and the reality
frightened her. How would she be treated there? Would they accept her as one of
their own? Though she tried to hide it, she was visibly shaken.
“You shall someday
be queen,” the king added. His expression was one of pride. Though he hated the
Na’zoran king, he would gladly give his daughter to his enemy. One day, his own
bloodline would sit on the throne of both kingdoms.
Gannon softly
patted his sister’s arm. “All will be well,” he said with sincerity.
She wished she
could believe him. It pained her that she was being sent away, and she wondered
if she would ever return to this kingdom in the mountains where she had spent
her childhood. Silently, she hoped that her husband would be kind to her, and
that he was not as war-like as his father. Bowing her head, she said, “Thank
you, Your Majesty. I shall endeavor to be a good wife to him.”
“Indeed you shall,”
King Nilan replied.
“I shall have some
gowns prepared for you in the Na’zoran style,” the queen remarked. “You’ll need
to fit in among your new people.”
“There will be no
betrothal for Gannon today. He is heir to the throne, and the decision is far
more difficult where he is concerned.” The king rose and exited, leaving his
children to ponder their futures.
Queen Cala
descended from her throne and took her daughter by the arm. Leading her away,
she said, “I can see your fear, child, but it is unnecessary. The prince’s
heart will melt when he sees you. No man could resist loving one as beautiful
as you.” Her words were sincere, her smile warm and comforting.
“I hope you are
right,” Aubriana whispered.
R
yshel stared at
her reflection in the mirror as her maidservant cinched the bodice of her
dress. She smiled slightly, admiring the emerald green fabric. Today she would
meet her future husband. Having full knowledge of his blindness, she wondered
what tasks he was able to perform alone. Little was known about Prince Efren,
as he did not regularly attend court functions, and few people passed gossip
about the rarely seen prince. Ryshel’s father had never laid eyes on him during
his numerous trips to court, and the king never spoke publicly of his children
besides Gannon.
“You look lovely, my lady,” the maid said,
stepping back to admire the future princess.
With a sigh, Ryshel nodded. “I doubt my husband is
interested in my looks.” Silently, she hoped he would be interested in her
mind. Few women studied literature, history, or politics, but those things had
always appealed to her. Of course she could dance and behave like a proper
lady, but once she had her own household, she hoped to take part in running it.
“We had better get you to your betrothed,” the
maid said. “We mustn’t keep him waiting.” Opening the door, she motioned Ryshel
to come along.
Her soft slippers made no sound against the castle
floor as she proceeded down the corridor. The sounds of the banquet filled the
hallway as she moved closer to her destination. Voices were speaking over each
other, and glasses were clinking. As the door opened, her eyes scanned the
crowd, searching for Efren among the gathered nobles.
Dozens of tables had been laid out with a variety of
decadent foods. She searched the tables until her eyes finally fell on King
Nilan, his golden crown gleaming in the candlelight. At the king’s table were
two young men, one fair-haired, the other dark. Immediately, she knew which one
was her future husband. Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly and stepped
inside the dining hall.
A hush fell over the crowd as she entered, and the
assembled guests rose to their feet to greet their new princess.
She had black hair, which was pulled back into one
long braid reaching past her waist. Her stunning green eyes, set off by her
green satin gown, caught the attention of the royal family. Gannon and Aubriana
exchanged pleased glances.
Aubriana leaned
forward to pat Efren’s arm. “Your bride-to-be is here,” she whispered.
He smiled and sat
up tall in his seat, his heart pounding in his ears. Hoping she would like what
she saw, he held his breath in anticipation.
Reaching the king’s
table, Ryshel curtsied politely before him.
“Lady Ryshel,” the
king said.
“Your Majesty,” she
replied.
“This is my son,
Efren,” the king said, his hand indicating the fair-haired man on his right.
Efren stood and bowed
to the lady who would soon be his wife. Taking her hand, he pressed it to his
lips. “My lady,” he said. Her skin was soft and delicate to his touch, and the
scent of fresh roses graced her presence.
“My lord,” Ryshel
replied, bowing her head slightly. Relieved to find that her husband-to-be was
handsome, her heart fluttered momentarily. His gentle features spoke of
kindness, and she hoped that meant he would be a caring husband.
“Please, be
seated,” the queen said. “Have something to eat.”
Ryshel took her
seat next to Efren, but she had no appetite for food. Her mind was overwhelmed
with many thoughts. Would her husband be willing to hear what she thought on
certain issues? How many children would he expect? Would she be able to give
him any? Where would they live? There were far too many questions when it came
to marriage. Though she had been prepared for this event all her life, she
still felt apprehensive.
Aubriana smiled warmly at her future sister. “I am
Aubriana,” she said. “I hope you will find happiness with my brother.” In her
mind, she hoped her own husband would be much like Efren. He was loving and
thoughtful, and she believed Ryshel quite fortunate to marry a man who was both
gentle and above her station.
After a while, the king declared, “Let the young
couple have a dance.”
Efren rose, taking his betrothed by the hand. A
single violin began to sing, soon being joined by other stringed instruments.
Ryshel noticed a smirk on the king’s face, and she wondered if this was some
joke at Efren’s expense. To her delight, Efren knew the steps to the dance and
performed each movement flawlessly. For a moment, she felt embarrassed for
doubting him. In front of her was a charming young prince, and soon her fears
subsided. She felt a sense of warmth in his arms as they moved about the dance
floor.
Efren’s heart was still pounding, but he
concentrated on moving his feet to the correct locations. Careful training had
prepared him for this moment, and he had no desire to disappoint his bride. The
soft touch of her hand and the nearness of her body calmed him, making him feel
as if she were already a trusted friend. When their dance was complete, he
bowed to his bride.
The king applauded the young couple. “Splendid,”
he declared. Though he had little use for his eldest son, he was pleased to
have him educated in the ways of the court. It would not do to have him embarrass
his father, and it would be impossible to keep him hidden at all times. Though
he had considered locking him away at birth, his conscience would not allow it.
The boy was, after all, his son. Luckily, the queen had borne him a second son
who could fill the role as heir to the kingdom.
“Shall we dance
again?” Ryshel asked.
“There is a private
chamber to the left of the dining hall,” Efren replied. “Perhaps we could speak
a moment.”
“Of course,” she
replied. She was curious to hear what he had to say. Slipping her arm into his,
she accompanied him into the empty room, her heart fluttering. “Shall we sit?”
“Yes,” he said,
taking a seat upon one of the cushioned benches.
Ryshel took her
place at his side, wondering what he might have to say. She had been told to
expect little interaction from him and to give him plenty of space. He had been
described to her as a person who prefers solitude, but his countenance had a
warmth that suggested otherwise.
“I would know the
truth,” he said. “Are you being forced into this marriage? I have no desire to
make you unhappy, and I know I am not an ideal husband.” His honesty came
naturally to him. Truly, he wished only to please this young woman who had
offered him her hand in marriage. If she did not wish to be his wife, he would
make sure she was released from her pledge.
His words took
Ryshel by surprise. The marriage was arranged, of course, but it had never
occurred to her that she should object. He was, after all, a prince of Ra’jhou.
Though he would not be king, he was still due to inherit immense wealth upon
his marriage. She was guaranteed a comfortable life, and there was little
chance he could be cruel. Marrying Efren was everything she had dreamed of. The
fact that he cared about her happiness only made him more appealing.
Looking into his
crystal eyes, she felt a connection to this humble man. Without a doubt, he
would make a fine husband. “It is my desire to be your wife.”
He leaned in and
kissed her cheek, lingering long enough to feel her warmth. “We shall have our
own household, away from the court. It is my desire to live in the country.”
Lovingly he placed his hand against her cheek, his fingers finding her soft
raven locks.
“That would please
me as well,” she replied. It would seem that all her childhood dreams were
about to come true. She would have a loving husband and a house in the country
where all her needs would be fulfilled.