Reborn From the Cosmos

Angelleen Tulopia rose from her lavender-scented pillow to a sore back and a lingering lethargy; not even the luxurious efforts afforded to a queen could make traveling agreeable. Her younger self romanticized the thought of sleeping under the stars and singing to the sight of endless hills. In the quiet moments, that naïve voice whispered that it wasn’t too late to run away, to get lost in the best way. She’d never listen. Her colorful fantasies died with the birth of her first son. She loved her children, but they chained her to her life even tighter than her marriage.

A part of her hoped this journey would satisfy the ghosts of her desires, but the road had disabused her of that notion quickly; she was well-beyond the age where discomfort was merely the garnish to an experience. Her new hope was that the salty food and waking at the crack of dawn would be worth it.

As always, once she blinked the sleep from her eyes, her gazes moved across the cabin to her daughter.

Princess Angelica kor Harvest slept hard and peacefully. If the cramped quarters or the aching backside she complained about while being tucked in bothered her, there was no trace of it in her smile. The queen thought of her daughter as an innocent and no one could say otherwise if they saw her at rest. There was a vulnerability in her slack features, something fragile that called to the witness to shield it. Something that lightened the heart at the implied trust for being able to witness it. The girl didn’t have the good sense to guard herself.

The youngest princess was a unique treasure; Angelleen truly thought so, no matter the difficulties she sparked. Angelica couldn’t hate. She couldn’t deceive. Mostly, she felt joy, marveling at the simple things others ignored as they marched through life. That joy was infectious; the young had big emotions that filled any room they entered, gifting others a trace of their overflowing energy. The second princess of the Harvest would be forever young. Few appreciated it.

There was also the more practical reason she appreciated her daughter.

The queen rapped the carriage door. It opened immediately, a body quickly stepping into the doorway to keep the growing light from overly intruding. An older woman with sharp eyes and a stern bearing inclined her head, hands crossed over her simple dress. “Good morning, Your Majesty.”

“Good morning, Dawn,” Angelleen returned fondly. It was impossible for a noblewoman to remain distant from her handmaidens; they were as essential as limbs and got just as close. Dawn had served her from the moment Angelleen arrived at the palace. They weren’t friends, as friendship implied equality and a queen had no equals, but seeing Angelleen in her most inglorious moments meant they were as close as their relationship allowed.

The queen looked beyond the woman to see the camp in full swing, porters packing up their camp as knights in golden armor ate a meal. She had slept longer than intended. By the looks of things, they would be ready to set off within the hour. Just enough time to get cleaned up, but she would have to wake her daughter.

She repressed a sigh as she resigned herself to a troublesome morning.

“I have already taken the liberty of having a bath readied and the cooks are preparing ingredients for omelettes.”

Angelleen perked up; her daughter’s favorite breakfast would go a long way to soothing her irritable mood after being pulled from her dreams.

“What would I do without you?”

“Your Majesty will never have to find out.”

“Saints willing. Have someone bring me Beneathe the Greens.”

“A touch morbid.”

“It seems appropriate.” Morbid suited meeting a tyrant. “A cup of sweetwater too.”

“As you wish.”

Angelleen turned back to her daughter as she door closed, thinking. Her children were her life. She truly wished everything for them, even when their desires conflicted. She couldn’t stop herself from having favorites, but she delighted in each of their successes.

For her husband, she wished nothing. She wanted him to be known and remembered as the boring, mediocre man he was. She wanted him to die peacefully in bed, having never known an exciting moment, and for his funeral to be a great play where a thousand actors faked their grief.

Rarely, she could admit to herself that Sebastian wasn’t a bad man. He hadn’t proposed their union, but he was loyal to it, at least where anyone could see, and never treated her with discourtesy.

Yet, he was never spoke a word at dinner that didn’t relate to the kingdom or his person. He never spent a single moment in her bed beyond what duty demanded. He was the one that never spoke of including her name when he dreamed of the great tales that would be written about him.

She had tied herself to him, given herself to him, and he didn’t care. Sometimes, she wondered if he could even see her. She didn’t have the ability to seek comfort elsewhere; his ego would never allow it. Angelleen was forced to subsist off the water of his affections and the drought had lasted for decades.

What else could grow in a barren heart besides hate?

Though her grudge ended with her husband; she would never endanger the kingdom, even to spite him. Her goal was mediocrity. Once, Sebastain changed the kingdom when he brokered the treaty with the fleshshaping horror that stole their former capital. The decision brought peace but it wasn’t looked on favorably. The kingdom followed his rule but they whispered. Ever since, he had been desperate to change his reputation. His worst nightmare was the kingdom remaining the same, as it always had, and being forgotten, like every king before. Angelleen spent many years quietly enjoying his “lessers” outmanuer him at every turn, unimpressed with his grand ideas.

Unfortunately, Harvest had no intention of remaining mundane.

Angelleen had been as startled as the rest of the court when they learned that an army of goblinoids were assaulting their southwest shores, but their intelligence agents quickly eased their minds. Research showed the creatures were simple and brutish. A nuisance to an organized force, nothing more.

Dowager’s excitement bordered impropriety; for as long as she could remember, her eldest son dreamed of war. It was the perfect opportunity, a single battle against an unworthy opponent.

Then her son dragged the war home. The bedraggled army of little green men became an articulate emissary for the whole of a nation.

A year ago, Sebastian had been talking of abdicating. It wasn’t the first time; the cold made him gloomy. She felt every year, he considered it with a touch more seriousness. Then an elf appeared. The Grimoires imploded. A single woman conquered a city.

Suddenly, impossible things seemed possible. Opportunity soaked the air. It invigorated the king; he’d die before surrendering power now. Dowager’s passion for war had cooled after getting his hands dirty, but he had no intention of letting his father take the lead on his hard work.

Angelleen was confident that the powers within the capital would suppress Sebastian as they had since his coronation. She turned her attention beyond the capital.

Angelica was a treasure for practical reasons aside from her character. Most of what came out of her mouth was nonsense…but not all of it. The princess was many things but few knew unnaturally insightful to be among them. She knew things she shouldn’t know. And she was never wrong.

For months, she had been talking about Quest, about something valuable within. The razing of the city, while a tragedy, presented a perfect opportunity. Even the stupidest and the proudest within the palace understood that Lourianne Tome was too powerful to ignore. She had become an element that all future plans had to take into account.

It was paramount that they mend their relation and normal diplomatic measures wouldn’t be enough. Neither Sebastian nor Dowager were up to the task; aside from their lacking diplomatic skills, their attention was wholly focused across the sea. Yet, the situation demanded the attention of a royal.

If she ever doubted how little her husband thought of her, his willingness to let her associate with a woman many considered man would have made it clear he couldn’t care less. Angelleen wasn’t wholly ambivalent about confronting the new countess but she was confident in making it out in one piece; the royal knights escorting her won’t for show. Then, she would find a moment to sneak away and find her daughter’s secret.

The queen smiled benevolently on her favorite princess as she gently pinched her nose. It wiggled as sleep eyes, the blue-green the colors artists strived for when coloring the sea, blinked open. For several moments, the girl stared blankly, registering nothing with a dead gaze that was the source of several ridiculous rumors. But then, like someone lighting the girl’s spirit, the eyes became expressive and she smiled, wide and dopey.

“Mooorrrrnnningg!” she crowed.

“Good morning, my little rabbit.” When she tweaked her nose a second time, the girl giggled. The queen was inwardly relived that the girl had woken in a good mood; it was a rare occurrence. “Quickly. If we keep a good pace, we can reach the city by night. Sounds good!”

“Mm!” The princess vibrated with excitement. “And then I can play with Little Sparkles!”

The main reason people never thought twice about Angelica’s words was that it was filtered through conversations with her imaginary friends. Except, Angelleen suspected they entirely made up. She had no idea who Mr. Sparkles or the other colorful characters were, or how her daughter, who couldn’t write and had never been trained in magic, contacted them, but what they told the princess was tangible. This Little Sparkles might lead Angelleen to more information about them, something she was very much looking forward to. Even if it turned out to be worthless, the answer to her years of curiosity would be worthwhile.

“Perhaps not today. It’s rude to call on friends late.” If this Little Sparkles was a person.

“It won’t be too late. You’ll see!”