A Clear and Present Madness

PROLOGUE:

Tassia stared at herself in the mirror, the red and gold coronation robes looking strange and tragic on her ten-year-old-frame.

“Your look lovely, your Highness,” said Syla, one of her teenaged handmaids.

Tassia had no words. She could only stare at herself, her mind dwelling on the last day she had with her mother and father.

She’d walked into the royal garden to see her mother tending to the flowers. The Queen had hummed a lullaby she’d sung to Tassia as a baby. When the Queen had noticed Tassia approaching her, she’d beckoned her over.

“Come, Tass. Look at these beautiful Plumeria blossoms.”

The King then emerged from his study, admiring his wife and daughter with a rare smile.

“My lady, you’re ready.”

The words of Sabina, her young governess, brought Tassia out of the memory. She shook away her irritation: she had wanted to stay in that memory a bit longer.

She turned to the mirror and looked at her pale reflection. Her red hair was twisted and curled on top of her head to support the crown they would soon place upon her brow. She eyed the golden ceremonial jewelry that the ladies had placed upon her neck, ears, and arms; her silver eyes watering. This was wrong, she was too young for this…

A soft knock at the door broke her intense train of thought. One of the royal guards gently opened the door. Everyone seemed hesitant to address her, treating her as if she were glass.

Maybe she was.

“It is time, your majesty.”

Tassia looked at Sabina, who gave her a sympathetic smile.

“You’ll be great, miss.”

Tassia’s eyes filled with tears as Sabina and the other ladies walked next to her as they left the room, descending the stairs into the resplendent main hall, passing every single servant and everyone who worked in the palace along the way. Every eye regarded her with either cautious encouragement or soft sadness.

Tassia stopped outside the heavy golden doors of the throne room, as the ladies and guards took their positions flanking her. As she waited for the doors to open and the ceremony to begin, she studied the etchings she had seen a dozen times — Kandasaar’s bloody and terrible Independence War — and wondered if this was all a dream. Maybe she would wake up to her mother’s smile and warm words. More than anything, she wanted to feel her mother’s fingers combing back her hair or listen to her hum that lullaby one more time.

The sound of the massive doors opening brought her back to the present. She straightened herself as her name was announced to the crowd waiting inside the throne room. They had been here for several hours, having come from all over the country where there had been parades all week throughout the capitol city of Esthen as each noble arrived. Tassia wondered if they were annoyed with the pomp and celebration all for her.

She walked as she’d been trained: slowly on the gold carpet towards the marble stairs at the end of the room leading up to one elaborate gold throne. She missed seeing two.

No. She mustn't dwell. She was going to be a queen now: the youngest one in history in a long line of well-respected rulers. She needed to be brave if she wanted to make her ancestors proud. If she wanted to prove herself to the nobles before her.

She stopped at the bottom of the steps. Behind her, her ladies and guards formed a line, facing each other on either side of the long carpet. Trumpets sounded and two page boys climbed up the steps, each holding a cushion. On one of them sat a ring bearing a small seal instead of a gem—it was going to be her seal, her new identity as the Queen of Kandasaar. On the other was a beautiful crown, crafted by merging her parents’ crowns together—silver branches adorned with gold leaves wrapped intricately around each other framing one large sapphire.

Tassia looked out at the crowd. She recognized politicians and noblemen from all the Kandasaarian provinces: the balding Prime Minister Claypoole from Pavida, a tall heavy-set Prime Minister Derrick from Auros, the dark-haired handsome Prime Minister Ichira from Calencia and the stoic, dark-skinned Prime Minister Ivan from Plavansk. They had come to the palace many times to discuss economic and political issues with her father. Would they come and discuss those things with her now? Judging by their unfriendly faces, she had her doubts they would do it enthusiastically.

“Greetings noble men and women of Kandasaar,” began the ancient Archbishop Emory as he ascended the steps to the throne, his robes nearly too large for his aging frame. “We thank you for travelling here to bear witness to the crowning of the youngest queen in the history of our great nation. The Riadas bloodline has ruled Kandasaar with wisdom and selflessness for generations, building us into the formidable country that we are today.” He looked down straight at Tassia, his eyes were friendly— the only friendly eyes in the room.

“Your Majesty, allow me to pray for you.”

The archbishop began to recite the opening prayer. She’d been briefed on the order of the ceremony, but her mind began wandering as Archbishop Emory recited the words, calling upon the gods who anointed her ancestors to be the first rulers of Kandasaar to now be with her as she ascended to her rightful place as queen.

“Amen!”

There was clapping as the prayers were finished. Tassia flinched at the sound before Archbishop Emory turned towards Bishop Tarwen, carrying a paintbrush and a bowl of ink.

“Your majesty, it is now time for the royal tattoo.”

Tassia’s breath clenched. It was tradition to bear the royal mark on the monarch’s neck: a series of ancient Kandasaarian runes meant to grant the king or queen long life and courage to lead with wisdom.

She closed her eyes as she felt the brush touch her neck, listening to the sacred music playing from the royal orchestra in the corner of the room. Below the music, however, she heard several snarky whispers.

“…bet she doesn’t even understand what’s happening…”

“Are we really supposed to discuss war strategies with a child?”

“…this is almost cruel. A steward should have been assigned to guard the throne until she matures. What madness.”

Tassia resisted the urge to burst into tears: that would only serve to confirm the concerns of the nobles. She had to prove them wrong.

The tattoo took several minutes to finish and when Tassia finally felt the brush lift from her neck, she opened her eyes and saw the Bishop step away, smiling as two ladies in waiting began washing her hands in basin filled with holy waters from the Vitursian River outside the city. This was a sacred moment and Tassia took a long breath, steadying her nerves. She was grateful the water was warm.

Once the handwashing had ceased, Bishop Arken approached, flanked by two pageboys who carried pillows on which rested the royal scepter and royal orb. Tassia began to breathe faster. It was coming closer: the moment she would receive the crown and be declared Queen.

“Your majesty, do you swear to govern faithfully, with justice and mercy, to uphold the moral imperative and maintain the safety and prosperity of Kandasaar?”

Tassia’s breath caught in her throat, but she managed to croak out her rehearsed response.

“This I promise to uphold.”

Bishop Arken smiled and then motioned for the rod and scepter.

“Receive this scepter and orb, oh anointed one!”

“May the gods protect the queen,” responded the crowd.

The rod and scepter were presented to Tassia and she carefully picked each of them up, struggling to hold them in her small hands. She managed to get them into position however and stared straight ahead as the crowd applauded and joyfully triumphant music began to play. Bishop Arken then approached her again and placed the crown atop her small head.

“Presenting, Her Royal Highness, Tassia Anesthia Riadas: Supreme Queen of Kandasaar!”

“Long live the Queen! Long live the Queen!”

The crowd chanted as she turned and climbed up the steps to the throne, the trail of her golden gown spread on the steps behind her. She turned again to face the nobles as she took a seat, listening to the celebratory music echo through the hall.

She gasped as she felt a sudden searing pain grip her chest, as if she’d been stabbed or shot with a stray arrow. She handed off the scepter and orb and felt her chest. There was nothing.

She blinked against the pain and found several noblemen looking up at her in either mild concern or irritation. They could see nothing wrong, but she felt as if she was dying. Her world began to tilt and sweat started to bead on her forehead. No, no this could not happen now. She might never shake this image from the prime minsters' minds if she collapsed like a weakling

"Your Highness, are you alright?" she heard someone ask to her left.

She struggled to lift her head but it suddenly became hard for her to keep standing. Her body shuddered as she felt something again pierce into her heart. With a muffled grunt of pain, she collapsed.

EIGHT YEARS LATER

Tassia screamed and jolted awake in her bed, her heart thundering in her chest. Her sleeping robes clung to her sweat drenched body, in spite of the fact that her balcony windows had blown open sometime in the night and a cold breeze now blanketed the room.

She had seen it again: a flaming golden key with a crown on its bow. Like always, it burned bright in the dark abyss of her mind that haunted her for eight years. She pressed her hand against her chest, willing her heart to slow. The familiar hum that had been there since her coronation was present once again next to her racing heartbeat: the magical hum of the key.

Sabina entered quickly, knowing exactly what had happened.

“What was it tonight, Highness?”

Tassia held her head in her hands as Sabina brought a warm cloth to the back of her neck, eager to calm the queen’s nerves.

“A fire in the Carridan Woods of Plavask. It was terrible: hundreds of people died…”

“I’ll tell the guards to gather the generals.”

Sabina stood and raced to Tassia’s door, calling for the guards posted at the end of her hall. Tassia hardly registered Sabina’s voice shouting instructions to them before she came back and sat next to the shaken young queen.

“Shall we make our way to the war room, Highness?”

Tassia stared straight ahead and stood up, making her way to her balcony that looked over the vast topiary gardens and immense stone fountains covering the eastern side of the palace grounds: her favorite part of the palace. The topiary gardens were particularly detailed and beautiful, thanks to her mother.

“In a moment.”

The dreams had started right after her coronation. At first, she’d thought that it was stress and exhaustion, but she’d soon realized that her dreams weren’t just dreams: they were visions of what was happening around the kingdom. The key that had grown in her chest overnight provided her with foresight to see what was happening in her kingdom as it was happening and the wisdom to know exactly what to do next. This made her one of the most beloved queens in recent history. It bothered her that she could never see who the perpetrators were or act in time to prevent the atrocities she saw. She received these visions in time to react, but never enough to prevent them. It drove her mad sometimes.

Tassia gripped the balcony and closed her eyes, thinking of her options. She had also been told that her father had possessed similar wisdom and foresight. According to her noblemen, her father could draw the truth out of anyone to whom he spoke. He became known as the Verigus: the King of Truth. How could she ever live up to such a legacy?

Soon, tension lifted from Tassia’s body, and she finally felt cold seeping into her limbs. The rage had passed. She was ready to speak to her advisors.

“Miss?” Sabina inquired. “Shall we go?”

Nodding, Tassia threw a robe over herself and walked to the war room barefoot. Her military generals and advisors stood in respect as she entered.

“Gentlemen, thank you for coming at such a late hour….”

“Can’t ever have these visions as a convenient time, can she?”

The snarky whisper came from her least favorite sorcerer: Magus Trumm. He had never approved of the child queen.

“Magus Trumm, are we keeping you from something?” Tassia said pointedly.

Trumm narrowed his eyes and tightened his jaw.

“Not at all your majesty. I rarely sleep in the middle of the night.”

Tassia cracked a small snarky smile. As much as she hated him, she did enjoy their exchanges.

“A fire has burned down most of the Carridan Woods. I need at least two squadrons of soldiers to make their way to Plavask as soon as possible to clear away the burnt trees and set up a residential area to assist those citizens who have lost their homes. Please send supplies with the soldiers as they go up and use the east port to dock. It will be faster and more direct. Any questions?”

Baron Tobyn opened his mouth to say something but then decided against it. Tassia smiled.

“That will be all.”

She quickly walked out of the meeting room and back to her own quarters, Sabina had already started her bath for her.

“You are a godsend, Sabina.”

Sabina laughed.

“Anything I can do to ease your stress, Highness.”

Tassia entered the bath, sinking until her face was the only thing visible out of the milky water. Sabina knew Tassia’s routine well enough to quickly vacate the bathroom and allow Tassia time to reset.

The following morning, Tassia rose without any sign of lethargy and went through her usual routine for dressing: her ladies in waiting pulled her gown over her and fastened her royal robes around her body before they braided her hair in the sacred Kandasaarian patterns. The braids were supposed to receive wisdom from the gods above and allow her to guide the kingdom with grace and courage. She had been told they worked but sometimes Tassia had her doubts.

“You look very well rested, Highness!” her youngest and most optimistic lady-in-waiting, Jassa, said as she fastened her crown amongst her braids. “And it’s a lovely day outside!”

Tassia gave a small smile, recalling the day she’d first worn the crown. Thinking about that day made it hard for her to breathe.

“Highness?” asked Lissy, another young lady-in-waiting. “Are you feeling alright?”

Tassia pressed her hand against her chest, resisting the urge to smash the crown into the mirror and then into Lissy’s face. Gods, where had that urge come from? Lissy was lovely, why was she suddenly feeling so violent?

“Get the hell away from me.”

Tassia’s voice had sunk to a wrathful growl, so much so that Lissy and Jassa took several steps fearful steps backward. Sabina entered the room at that moment and moved towards Tassia.

“Leave us,” she waved her hands toward the two handmaids. Lissy and Jassa obliged and quickly left, casting concerned glances back as Sabina gripped Tassia’s shoulders.

“You are here, you are whole, you are strong.”

Tassia’s breath slowly returned as Sabina repeated the mantra. After several breaths, Tassia was able to open her eyes and meet Sabina’s gaze.

“Thank you.”

“Of course, Highness. Your father used to have similar episodes.”

Tassia stood and turned to Sabina as both prepared to leave the room.

“Did he really?”

“Yes. I once studied with the Kandasaarian healers and learned how to quell a rising panic attack.”

Tassia smiled in appreciation as they opened the door and found Lissy and Jassa on the other side, looking worried and nervous. Tassia bit her lip and took both of their hands.

“I’m so sorry. I haven’t been feeling well lately but that is no excuse. Please forgive me, Lissy.”

Lissy smiled.

“Of course, Highness.”

Tassia relaxed and began walking toward the great hall next to Sabina with Lissy and Jassa trailing several steps behind.

“You said my father had similar episodes?” Tassia whispered to Sabina.

“Yes.”

“Similar episodes of mania and violence?”

“I heard rumors of an increasing severity of violence. I am sorry I cannot say anymore.”

Tassia tightened her jaw, but smiled gratefully. Sabina would never keep anything from her.

“Thank you, Sabina.”

As she left her private hallway, she saw General Gavin waiting. He bowed curtly and matched her stride. Tassia tried her best to hide her sneer. He was her least favorite general: he somehow could not let go of how young she was and often still thought that she was the ten-year-old child that had been coronated years ago.

“What is it, general?”

“Your majesty, have you thought about my proposal?”

Tassia rolled her eyes. He’d mentioned a lot of things in the last meeting. Did he think she waited on his words?

As Tassia turned into another hallway, General Gavin was almost out of his breath behind her. She repressed a smile.

“I’m waiting for more words, General.”

“It’s about your union…”

He let rest of the sentence hang in the air between them just as Tassia stopped suddenly, nearly causing Lissy and Jassa to run into her. She turned sharply and fixed the general with a death glare. Oh…that proposition…

“You seem to have forgotten my response to you, General.”

General Gavin’s face tightened. He would not back down.

“Your Highness, you must see that the line continues. Your family has ruled Kandasaar since its founding. You don’t want to be responsible for the destruction of your country do you?”

Tassia’s blood boiled. Sabina noticed and gripped Tassia’s hand strongly.

“I do not need a history lesson, General. Do you know what else I don’t need? A King consort or children. If you bring this up again, I cannot promise there will be no consequences for you. Understood?”

Tassia’s blood boiled and she felt a rising rage inside of her. It would feel wonderful to beat General Gavin to a pulp, possibly scream directly into his ear and slam her heels directly into his temple…

Sabina’s hand moved to Tassia’s arm as if Sabina could hear Tassia’s thoughts. Tassia worked to calm herself.

“Keep your suggestions to yourself. I don’t need an heir.”

TWO

Tassia’s morning meetings passed by in a blur and she soon found herself walking to the palace library. She enjoyed the quiet solitude, especially after a morning of endless meetings. It often allowed her time to forget about her royal duties and to simply be.

Two of the librarians, Alyna and Poppy, rushed towards her as she entered.

“May we help you, your majesty?” They asked in unison.

“Pull all the genealogy and history books and bring them to my private reading chamber please.”

They walked next to her as she spoke, matching her stride.

“Right away, Highness!”

They broke off to fulfill her request and she made her way towards the spiral stairs that went down into the basement level.

Tassia stopped in front of the third bookshelf on her left and pulled down two books from the first row, three books from the second and four books from the third row. Then, she pressed the buttons on the secret mechanisms that were hidden behind those books in quick succession. With a soft click followed by a dull whirling sound, the shelf in front of her parted to reveal a spiral staircase.

Tassia took a breath, picked up the torch burning on the wall to her right and descended to her private reading room. It wasn’t a large room, but the jade obelisk on top was lit by the roaring fire in the enormous fireplace and it created a warm, inviting atmosphere. She felt safe and secure down in the dark, with the torches along the wall and the dark mahogany wood. It was private and calm. The voices were quiet here.

She sat promptly in a large, cushioned chair next to the fireplace, closing her eyes and basking in the warmth. For a moment, all was well.

The maintenance doorway by the fireplace then opened and Alyna and Poppy appeared with a cart full of books.

“Lovely. Thank you so much,” Tassia said, taking one book off the top of the pile.

“Of course, Highness!” They curtsied promptly and then left back through the maintenance door again, leaving her in peace.

“Highness?”

Tassia jolted awake to Sabina’s sudden voice. Judging by Sabina’s concern, it had been several hours.

“How long have I been down here?”

“It’s nearly sunrise,” Sabina said gently.

Tassia groaned and sat up, the history book in her lap tumbling to the floor. Sabina set it on the coffee table in front of the fireplace.

“My episodes are becoming more frequent,” Tassia said through an exasperated breath.

“I know, Majesty,” Sabina said. “We’ll figure it out.”

“I couldn’t find anything useful in any of these books,” Tassia said, kicking the cart.

“Perhaps you should take a break.”

Tassia took a long exasperated breath, pausing.

“Someone out there knows what’s happening to me.”

“Who?" Sabina gripped Tassia's shoulders and gave them a reassuring squeeze.

“I've no idea,” Tassia sighed, rubbing the key in her chest.

Sabina sat up straighter and took a beat before attempting to lighten Tassia’s mood.

“General Gavin is certainly eager for you to have children.”

It worked. Tassia laughed at the absurdity of the idea.

"Annoyingly so."

“Why would he be so insistent?” Sabina asked.

Tassia sat up straighter, an idea forming. She recalled the general’s facial expression. He had looked scared of her as if he’d known what she could’ve done…what she’d wanted to do.

“Thank you, Sabina. Would you mind terribly looking through these books in case I missed anything?”

“Of course, your Majesty. Be careful” Sabina was confused at her sudden change, but nodded as Tassia ascended the stairs and made her way to a small resting room behind the throne room.

“Send for Commander Berold,” she asked a guard stationed outside the throne room. He nodded and spoke into a horn on his staff.

She entered the room and took a seat on a bench on the eastern wall, waiting only minutes before Commander Berold entered and took a seat on the bench opposite her.

There was a tense few minutes as Berold shifted uncomfortably.

“What is it, your majesty?”

“I want you to apprehend General Gavin and keep him in the interrogation room.”

Berold’s wizened blue eyes widened in alarm and he ran his hands over his graying beard.

“Your Majesty, if this is in regard to what happened earlier, I’ve warned him already. All in your circle know to not bring up the issue again.”

“He might know something about my parents.”

Commander Berold regarded her for a moment before he nodded. Bowing deeply, he left the room swiftly. Tassia’s hands felt cold with anticipation, her heart thundering under the key. What if this was another dead end? No. It couldn’t be. She shook her head, trying to keep her head clear. She had to trust herself.

One of the palace guards then knocked on the door.

“Highness, Commander Berold is waiting for you in the interrogation room with General Gavin.”

Straightening her back and she nodded appreciatively and took off down the hallway.

Once she was inside the carpeted, cushioned room, she motioned for the guards to close the door, ignoring her desire to take in the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled with books on Kandasaarian culture.

The general sat on one of the chairs around the small table, sweating profusely. He held a white handkerchief in his hand, with a purple flower embroidered at its corner. It looked like the handiwork of his oldest daughter, Jonette.

“Do you know why you’re here, general?” Tassia asked, making herself comfortable at the chair facing Gavin.

He shook his head, wiping the sweat from his brow.

“I want to know why you’ve been insisting that I get married and have an heir with such gusto and passion.”

Gavin coughed into his handkerchief as his face became red.

“The suggestion was merely out of concern for the well-being of the kingdom and you, my Queen.”

“Of course, but I’m afraid that you may have been keeping something from me.”

“I…uh…I’m not, Your Highness.” The general stammered, strengthening the doubt in Tassia’s heart.

She leaned toward the door, calling to Berold.

“Commander, take two of my handmaidens to the general’s house. Search it from top to bottom and see if you can find anything. Keep him here until you find anything worthwhile.”

Tassia stood up to leave. She was at the threshold when Gavin’s words stopped her.

“You can’t do this! You haven’t accused me of anything!”

“If I have reasonable suspicion, I can do as I see fit,” Tassia snapped, the key in her chest glowing a solemn red.

General Gavin looked at the illuminated key with sudden disgust.

“You're a disgrace to the Riadas line."