Fic: Ascension of the Queen (1/3)

[melyanna]

Title: Ascension of the Queen
Author: Melyanna
Rating: Kid-friendly
Summary: A mysterious stranger arrives in Atalan and quickly finds himself grappling with pirates, entangled in court intrigues, mistrusted by the highest nobles in the land, and captivated by the young woman about to become queen - if she lives to assume her throne.
Notes: With many thanks to the enablers, and especially to angelqueen04 and miera_c, my partners-in-crime.


John had seen the Talas range, which ran along the border of Atalan and Caldora, every morning of his childhood, a distant chain of mountains that had declared the limits of his known world. It had been nearly sixteen years since that world had exploded in size, but until the day he decided to cross the foothills into Atalan, he had never been north of that boundary. He found it a little strange, but a little strangeness could not hurt him now.

There was little in Atalan which did not amaze him. Though he had spent his boyhood within sight of this land, it was as foreign to him as the land of the Ancients had been all those years ago. Perhaps the most striking difference was that this land had obviously seen war within his lifetime. John remembered rumors of the Ori and what happened when a country refused to supply soldiers for their army, but until this journey he had not entirely believed it. He had seen what the Ori could do, but had never before seen it directed at a country with forces so inferior to theirs. The villages he passed had been rebuilt, but they were like threadbare patches sewn onto an old garment. Nothing fit properly, and a stumble against the rocks might rip them off again.

The roads converged as he traveled northward - in his homeland, they converged in the south - and he knew he was nearing the fabled island on which stood the palace of Atlantis. Such was his goal, though he hadn’t the slightest idea what he would do once he reached the shore. He had no reason to go there save curiosity, and he suspected that that would not be good enough.

After a fortnight spent riding north and west across the countryside, John began to hear the sounds of mighty water, and it was not long before he navigated his horse across the rocky crags and down to the beach. There he dismounted, knelt at the sea’s edge, and dipped his hands into the cool water to splash his face with it. In the distance, he could see an island.

“I hope you are not so thirsty as to drink the sea water,” said a woman’s voice behind him.

John had spent so much time alone, with only the suspicious looks of those he passed while traveling north, that the voice startled him. He took a moment to recover himself, dried his face with the corner of his cloak, and stood up to see something of a surprise.

She was small and beautiful, with her dark skin almost glowing in the sunset and her eyes as rich and deep as the night. Her dress was simple but fine. She was obviously a woman of some wealth, though her hands had seen hard work. John wondered silently how she had come to this place, as some part of her family was obviously not from Atalan.

He nodded to her. “I have traveled many months, madam,” he said. “I wished to wash the dust of the road from my face.”

“Are you a warrior, sir?” the lady asked, gesturing toward the quiver of arrows that stood next to his stallion, a few paces away.

He shook his head. “A hunter.”

“Then come,” she said, smiling. “I will draw you a drink of water from the well.”

John retrieved his quiver and took the reins of his horse to walk beside the lady, following her down the coast. “What is your name?” she asked.

“I am called John,” he replied. “Of a family of shepherds. And what do I call you?”

“I am Teyla, daughter of Tagan,” his companion said. “My home is just over this hill.”

True to her word, when they had crested the next rise John saw a town sprawling out across the plain. Had he stayed on the road instead of veering off to find the sea, he would have been in the town square already.

As they drew near, John found himself taking in the sights of small houses with neatly thatched roofs and timber-framed shops with samplings of their wares displayed on tables outside. The place was, perhaps, better off than most villages John had visited in recent years, but there was something much different about this place - something life-giving in the air around them. “Welcome to Athos,” Teyla said, smiling.

While John took in his surroundings, a very tall man with a prominent chin came up to them and bowed to Teyla. “Lady Teyla,” he said, “was there any sign?”

“No,” the woman replied, shaking her head. “That does not give us leave to let down our guard. Post watchmen along the shore tonight.”

It had not occurred to John before this point, but he realized with a start that this Teyla was, in fact, the leader of this town. The man nodded to her. “And this stranger? Does he bring us news?”

“No, Halling,” she said. “He is but a traveler, and we will give him shelter for the night. The coast is not safe.”

John started to protest, but a look from Teyla silenced him. “Very well,” Halling replied. “I will send out the watchmen.”

He left, and John looked to Teyla for an explanation. “You are not safe from the Wraith on the coast,” she said, obliging him.

“The Wraith?”

Her dark eyes grew wide. “If your home is untouched by the Wraith, you should return to it.”

“That is not possible,” he said quietly.

She held his gaze long and steady before walking to the well and drawing water. With a look she beckoned him, and she held out a ladle to him. “Drink this,” she ordered, and disinclined to disobey, he drank all of the cool water and handed the ladle back. “Come with me,” she then said. “If you intend to stay long in this land, there are things you should know.”

They crossed the square, and John tethered his horse outside the inn. When he followed Teyla inside, almost everyone in the building stood and bowed to her. John they gave wary looks, and he wondered if these people were under some sort of siege.

“Marta,” Teyla said, approaching the young woman at the bar, “bring a hot meal for a weary traveler. And something for me as well.”

Teyla led him to a table, and she talked of anything but the Wraith until after they had supped. Then John sat back in his chair and simply asked, “Who are the Wraith?”

She was a long time in answering him. “They are raiders,” she replied. “Pirates, some would call them. For a long time, the people living along the shore thought they were ghosts, and so the raiders were called Wraith.” Teyla shook her head. “They slip in and out of shadows so quickly that we often have no warning. Some of us were trained to track them, to watch for their approach, and that can give us time.”

“That is what you were doing on the beach,” John concluded. “You were watching.”

Teyla nodded. “It has been a long time since we felt their sting,” she said. “It makes me nervous, and the princess is nervous as well.”

“The princess?” John repeated, leaning forward.

“Princess Elizabeth will reach the age of majority in but a few days,” Teyla explained patiently. “Her safety is of great concern. At present she has no uncontested heir.”

That much John knew. Though he was Caldoran and his people had not had good relations with Atalan in recent history, he knew some things about the princess. In his travels outside of Caldora he had heard that she was a young woman of unparalleled beauty, with wisdom and grace beyond her years. He had to admit that this was one of his primary reasons for curiosity about the palace, so he was disappointed when Teyla did not divulge any other information.

“You have had a long day, I imagine,” she said. “Marta’s husband can give you a room here and see to your horse. But I would not venture beyond Athos if I were you.” She stood apprehensively and looked away, toward the door. “There will be fog tonight.”

She left him then, and John felt a chill down the back of his neck. That evening, unable to sleep for very long, he watched from his window as the mists engulfed the town.

After a few hours, he laid himself down upon the bed, his sword and bow not far from his side, his boots still on his feet. But it seemed as though only moments had passed when he heard a cry in the distance, and he jumped up again. Standing near the window he watched, and a youth soon scrambled into view.

“The Wraith!” the lad cried. “They’re coming!”

It was as though the whole town rose from slumber at once. Torches were lit and men appeared from every house. John was surprised to see a few women out too, including the lady Teyla. John did not hesitate, grabbing his sword and running out of the inn.

“Milady,” he called, once she had finished speaking with a group of young men.

“Go back to the inn,” she ordered immediately.

Instincts honed many years earlier rose in vehement protest. “But-”

“Go back,” she repeated, meeting his gaze. “You are an archer. You will do more good with the arrow than any of my defenders would.”

Slowly, he nodded, but then he asked, “How will I know friend from foe?”

She smiled at him mirthlessly. “Believe me, you will know.”

By the time John had reached his room again, he could hear the panic rising in the town, and he desperately wished to rejoin the defenders. Sword clashed against sword, and he could hear shrieking that cut to the bone. But he did as Teyla had asked, and when he reached the window of his room, his bow in hand, he realized she was right. He could tell friend from foe without any trouble.

They came from the north, dressed in the colors of night and wearing terrible, pale masks. John shut away the thought of how frightening it would be to live in a place such as this, with so few defenses against an enemy who clearly wished to strike terror into the hearts of its victims. He raised his bow, nocked an arrow, and fired from the window.

Between volleys he dared not watch the battle below, hoping to keep his location secret. Eventually the Wraith would know from whence the arrows struck them. He hoped that by that point, he would be out of arrows and would resort to fighting with the sword anyway, or that the raiders would be defeated.

As he fired his last arrow into the heart of a masked man, several of the Wraith pointed up to the second story of the inn. He had been discovered, and in all likelihood, there was only one escape for him. When he had drawn his sword, the door to his room flew open behind him. The masked raider rushed toward him, and John leapt through the window to the square below.

He landed squarely on top of a raider, and he looked up to see that his attacker was following him out the window. John looked to his left, saw Teyla, and lunged at her, knocking her out of the way of the falling Wraith. John rolled back up to his feet and swung wildly, knocking the man’s sword away before he could recover his balance. With a much finer move, he thrust his sword through the raider and ran off to engage another.

The skirmish did not last much longer, the remaining Wraith leaving their dead behind and fleeing to the sea in the face of this opposition. Once he had reasonable assurance that his worst injury was a graze from a knife, John knelt at the edge of the town square and wiped his sword on the thick grass, cleaning the blood from the blade before sheathing it.

“Twice this day I have found you kneeling,” said Teyla behind him. “Should I take you for a priest?”

He stood, shaking his head. “Is the worst over?”

“I believe they are gone,” the woman replied. “I have sent my spies after them to give us warning if they return. In the meantime, I suggest you collect your arrows.”

John bowed respectfully and began to do as she said. “Master John?” she added, and he looked at her.

“What is it?”

“You saved my life, and many of my people,” she said. “We are in your debt.”

John shook his head. “You took in a stranger. There is nothing owed.”

“Yet I would repay you,” Teyla replied. “In the morning I must take news of this attack to the regent in Atlantis. I would have you join me that I might tell the princess of your bravery, and how you helped a people who are not your own. Princess Elizabeth will wish to thank you when she knows of your assistance.”

He was too exhausted - and had too long been curious about this princess - to argue with her, so he nodded. “I will accompany you.”

“Then take your rest while you may,” Teyla said. “I shall leave an hour past the dawn.”

With another nod, John went back to his room in the inn and was asleep when his head hit the pillow.

The following morning, John awoke wondering if the previous night had been a dream, but then he realized that he had not woken of his own accord. He was being roused out of bed by the owner of the inn, a burly, balding man who spoke to him roughly. “Come now, Lady Teyla wished to leave half an hour ago,” the innkeeper said.

John bolted up, remembering that he was to go to the island of Atlantis with Teyla, and he rubbed his eyes. “Tell her I shall be there directly,” he said to the innkeeper, who left the room muttering. John retrieved from his pack the finest clothes he had and quickly washed himself and changed.

He took his belongings with him, including his weapons, and found Lady Teyla waiting for him outside the inn, standing between his stallion and a fine gelding. “It is fortunate that I am not expected at court,” she said without preamble. Her dark eyes were full of mirth.

“My apologies,” he offered.

During the brief ride to the shore and their crossing of the channel in a ferry large enough to carry several horses, Teyla spoke to him of how little their losses had been the night before. It was clear to him that she attributed some of this, if not most of it, to his presence in the window. When she pressed him again, wishing to know if he was a soldier, he denied it and tried to change the subject.

As they neared their destination, Teyla let him enjoy the view. The palace of Atlantis was breathtaking, far more elegant than a building of stone and mortar had any right to be. Her towers and spires seemed to dance with the clouds above, and John was left to imagine what it was like inside.

Soon enough, he saw for himself the marble floors and columns that made up the great entry hall and the square beyond. There servants were hanging laundry to dry and tending to small gardens and leading animals from one place to another. Teyla led him through this square quickly, and John was brought next to another grand hall filled with rows of raised seats on either side and a throne at the far end. This, if he were to guess, was where the college of lords of Atalan would congregate.

But for now, its only occupants were four men, two of whom appeared close to his age, and the other two somewhat older. The tall, lanky man watched him most closely, and with something akin to suspicion in his eyes. When Teyla curtseyed to them, John had the good sense to bow as well.

“My lords,” she said, “I had wished to see the lord regent.”

“He is occupied,” said the stocky, bald man. “Is something wrong on the mainland?”

“Athos was attacked by the Wraith last night,” Teyla stated. “But our casualties were few, and I believe we owe it to this man.”

She gestured to John, who shifted his weight uncomfortably. “Is this true?” asked the youngest of the group.

“I gave them such assistance as I could, yes,” John replied. “I have some skill with the bow and with the sword.”

“My lords,” Teyla interrupted, “this is Master John.”

“Master John,” said the first man, “I am Lord George of Hammond, guardian of the Princess Elizabeth. There stands her cousin, Daniel, Duke of Langford, Lord Jonathan of Neill, and Sir Jacob Carter.”

Lord Jonathan, the one who still looked at him suspiciously, crossed his arms over his chest. “You are not from Atalan,” he said.

“No, my lord,” John replied, deciding that honesty would be better in this case. “But I have traveled for so long that I do not call any land my home.”

“Well, Master John,” said Sir Jacob, “we are grateful that you chose to aid our people when they are not your own.”

“I did what I could,” John reiterated.

“Lord George,” Teyla said, “may I have an audience with the princess? I believe she would wish to know of this attack.”

“Certainly.” He beckoned a servant to take Teyla and John to wherever the princess was, and John left with the uncomfortable feeling that he was being talked about once he left the room.

But as they stepped outside and passed by high hedges, such thoughts were soon driven away by the soft sound of laughter. John and Teyla were allowed to pass between two guards at the entrance to a garden, and John stood as one bewitched by the sight before him.

There were three young women, the smallest seated on the ground while the other two occupied a bench. Each was dressed in a fine gown of rich hue, and all three had covered their hair with long, flowing fabric. There was much cloth all around, and John quickly surmised that they were mending garments. The girl who held his attention was still laughing heartily, but when she caught sight of the newcomers, she stopped. Her smile faded as she stared at him, and he thought he saw her swallow.

He forgot his manners, too, for he stared as openly, captivated by her beauty. But soon enough Teyla jarred him from the lady’s spell and said, “Your Highness.”

The object of his fascination looked away at last. “It is good to see you, Lady Teyla,” she said. “I trust you are well.”

“I wish I could say I had come under better circumstances,” Teyla confessed. “The Wraith struck last night.”

The princess listened attentively as Teyla recounted the tale, and when she came to John’s participation, the woman looked at him again. She had such dark green eyes that seemed able to pierce his thoughts. John found that he could not look away when her gaze was fixed on him thus.

When Teyla had concluded her tale, the lady set her sewing aside and rose. She was tall, slender, and graceful, her chin held high as she approached him and offered her hand. “I am Elizabeth,” she said, “Princess and Queen-elect of Atalan. On the behalf of my people, I am grateful for your help, John of shepherds.”

“I am glad to do what I can, Highness,” he replied in a low voice, and he took her slender hand in his and bowed to kiss it. When he looked up again, she was smiling and blushing, her youthful modesty overshadowing her royal demeanor.

A part of him fell in love in that moment, and he never truly recovered.

Thankfully, she turned her attention to his escort. “Lady Teyla, can you stay?” she said. “We would enjoy your company at supper this evening.”

“I fear I cannot,” Teyla replied. “There is much to do at home, and I believe my people would benefit from my presence. But perhaps Master John would be willing to stay?”

Princess Elizabeth’s cheeks grew even more pink, and John realized that Teyla was teasing her. He suspected strongly that few got to see her in such a state, and he felt a little smug for having drawn a blush to her pale cheeks. “If Master John has no other constraints on his time,” she said quietly, “I should be glad to have him dine with us.”

It was John’s turn to feel a little embarrassment, and he fought the instinct to fidget. “I would be honored, your Highness,” he replied.

He kissed her hand again, and Teyla took her leave. As John followed her from the garden, wondering where he was to go, he heard the girls giggling. This time, he did not feel so uncomfortable in suspecting that he was the object of conversation after he had left. In fact, he felt rather satisfied with himself and could hardly keep a smirk from his face.

Over the course of the last two years, Kate had seen many men come before Princess Elizabeth seeking her favor, but had never seen Elizabeth react in such a way as she did to the man who had come with Lady Teyla. Perhaps it was because he had not, it seemed, come with some grand courtship scheme. He had not so much as offered her a flower or a word about her beauty.

Granted, on that score, his eyes had said more than enough.

Elizabeth’s cheeks were still a little flushed as she wandered toward the rose bushes. She plucked a soft pink blossom and brought it to her nose, and Kate simply could not help herself. “The roses will be gone soon,” she said. “Will you pick them all and wear them in your hair tonight for your guest?”

Laura met Kate’s eyes, and they both started giggling while the princess blushed even more. “How long will it be before you have had your fill of teasing me about him?” she asked.

“When will we stop teasing Kate over Master Lorne?” Laura responded. Then it was Kate’s turn to blush, though one would have thought that in the three years since the handsome young man had joined the royal guard, she would have gotten over him, despite how sweet he could be.

“I must say, though,” Laura continued, “that this Master John is the handsomest man to have come to court in some time.”

“But does our lady still find Lord Jack more appealing?” Kate asked.

The rose still in her hand, Elizabeth came back to the bench, where they had been busy with mending before Teyla’s arrival. “Will Lord Jack ever cease to be appealing?” she asked in return.

“I often wonder why he has not married again,” said Laura. “There would be many ladies willing to wed him if he wished.”

“He stayed in mourning for his wife for a very long time,” Elizabeth replied softly. “And perhaps he would not wish to impose a new mother upon his son, even now.”

Though none of them said so aloud, young Charles of Neill had been an object of curiosity for some time. As the son of Elizabeth’s dear friend and advisor and a man about their age, there were a few who thought that he should have joined the court some time ago. But as far as they knew, he was not even expected to attend the coronation.

At the thought of the blessed event two days hence, Kate wanted to breathe a sigh of relief. Not long before the old king had passed away, she and Laura had been selected by Elizabeth’s mother as companions for the young princess, and thus Kate had been witness to the entirety of the regency. She knew they would not emerge from that nightmare until the crown was placed upon Elizabeth’s brow and they all knelt before her as Queen of Atalan.

They were close - so close, but they could not claim the victory yet.

As though summoned by her thoughts, Lord George of Hammond appeared at the entrance of the garden. Never in Kate’s tenure as Elizabeth’s companion had her guardian entered this space without Elizabeth’s explicit permission. It was hers and hers alone, and the man who had stood in her father’s place was careful to give her what privacy he could.

Lord George bowed before Elizabeth, and she nodded to him. “Good day, Lord George,” she said. “You may enter.”

He did so, and Kate and Laura busied themselves with their sewing. Over the years they had learned to see and not be seen, to hear and not be heard. Elizabeth relied on them as much for their skills of observation as for their companionship now. One of their greater skills was to blend in with the background, though it was much harder with Lord George or Daniel, or even Lord Jonathan, as they had been largely responsible for teaching the ladies that skill.

“Did Lady Teyla bring you her guest?” he asked.

Kate spared a glance at Elizabeth, who looked down at the rose still in her hand as her cheeks turned the same color as it. “Yes,” she replied. “He is to dine with us tonight, as Teyla herself could not stay.”

To anyone but the three young women present, Lord George’s momentary look of alarm might have gone unnoticed. The princess seized upon this immediately. “Is that of concern to you?” she asked.

It took Hammond a moment to consider this. “I believe he hides something from us, my lady,” he replied.

“Yes,” Elizabeth said, much to Kate’s surprise. “I know it.”

“But?” Lord George prompted.

Elizabeth tilted her head, looking thoughtful. “He did my people a great service,” she said. “He put himself in harm’s way for strangers. I do not believe he poses a threat, and so I can forgive him for concealing something.”

Hammond merely nodded. “As you wish, Highness,” he said. “But may I point out that Sir Marshall will not be pleased by this?”

Her smile in reply was small. “You may not, for he is never pleased unless I am cloistered away somewhere out of sight,” she said. “I am grateful for his protection, but I am perhaps equally grateful for his restraint.”

Lord George looked almost amused. “Very well,” he replied. “Will you humor me and at least have your cousin sit down with you all tonight?”

Then Elizabeth’s smile turned mischievous. “I shall do better than that,” said she. “I would have you, Daniel, Lord Jonathan and Sir Jacob with me this evening.”

At that Lord George chuckled. “I pity the man who seeks your heart, my lady.”

He bowed to her again, and when she had nodded, he left the girls alone.

Kate looked at Elizabeth in amazement, and Laura asked, “Will you put your Master John through a trial by fire on his first day in the palace?”

The princess stood, looking regal and fair. “He is not my Master John,” she replied. “But a trial by fire? I like that idea.”

To that, all three of them laughed.

John spent the day wandering around the island, which he discovered was not quite an island after all. There was a narrow land bridge that connected it to the mainland, though he was assured that in winter, the isthmus was often impassable. He approached the shore and wondered how violent the winters in this place would have to be to cover the land like that.

He was standing at the water’s edge, taking in the view of the island from there, when one of the black-clad guards approached him. “Master John?” said the man. He was shorter than John, though obviously strong.

John crossed his arms over his chest. He would not be run off from this place by intimidation. “Should you not be guarding something?” he asked dryly.

The other man’s mouth twitched as though he wished to smile. “The princess herself sent me to speak with you,” he replied. “She wants you to have a proper guide here, but if you wish to thwart her will, I will let you tell her yourself.”

Though John had seen but little of the princess, he suspected that thwarting her will would not be wise. As it happened, he did not wish to. He nodded. “If you will give me your name?”

“Lorne,” said the man. “Marcus Lorne, lieutenant of Princess Elizabeth’s guard.”

Lorne proved most entertaining as he showed John around the palace and its grounds, extensive enough to house orchard trees and a small amount of pasture. John imagined it was enough to sustain the palace through the winter. Along the way, Lorne told stories of the people they passed, cooks and lords and maids and knights. Through it all, John felt a certain sense of expectation in both his guide and his surroundings. He was sure it had to do with the coronation, just days away, and he wondered what manner of regent could inspire such tremendous hope that a girl as young as the princess would serve her people better.

Later in the day, when he was preparing himself to dine with the princess and her ladies-in-waiting, it occurred to him that he had met the princess in an unguarded moment. Since leaving his homeland, he had heard stories of Princess Elizabeth and how sharp-witted and discerning she was. When a servant came to escort him to dinner, he realized that he was quite possibly going to see a completely different woman now.

But when the servant brought him to the antechamber, he faced something different first.

John surmised that the guard who was waiting for him there was the captain of the royal guard. He was older than most of the guards John had seen, and his black uniform was trimmed in gold. His arms were crossed over his chest, and the look in his eyes made John swallow.

“You would be Master John,” said the man. His eyes were hard, and he seemed not to blink at all.

“I would,” John replied inanely. “Ah, the princess-”

“The princess is waiting inside,” he interrupted. “My name is Sumner. I swore an oath to the old king to protect his daughter with my life, and to see her to her coronation.”

“Well,” John said, feeling awkward, “you seem to have done a good job with that.”

“You are here at the princess’ pleasure. See that you remember that,” Sumner said. “If it were my decision, you would be far from here.”

“Sir Marshall,” said the soft voice of a lady. “Is something amiss?”

“No, your Highness,” he replied, still staring at John. “Your guest has arrived.”

The guard stepped out of the way, and John saw the princess in the doorway beyond, clothed in deep blue, a belt of silver rings at her waist. Though her hair was covered, he caught a glimpse of dark curls as she moved her head, looking from Sumner to him. “Master John,” she said, “will you join us?”

She did not wait for an answer, merely smiling at him and turning back to the room. John spared a glance at Sumner, who was still exuding threats and intimidation, before following the princess into the comfortable, private dining room.

The room was dominated by a large window. The view of the ocean was framed by stone carvings below and on either side and by stained glass at the top. In the center of the room stood a large, round table, with intricate patterns gilt around its rim. The settings were lavish, and the two young women who had been with the princess earlier in the day were lighting candles, both on the table and in the large, elegant chandelier above.

John finally drew his eyes away from the room and its furnishings long enough to see that he was not alone with these young women, not that he had expected to be. The four men whom Teyla had spoken to earlier were standing around, waiting for the princess to be seated. She looked around at them and said, “Gentlemen, have you met Master John?”

“Yes,” Lord Jonathan said simply. “We met him this morning.”

“Then there is no need for introductions,” she replied with a smile, resting her hand on the high back of a chair. “Master John, sit by me.”

He knew then that he had been right not to expect the same off-guard fluster he’d encountered in her that morning. He could not tell whom the princess was manipulating more - him or her four advisors. Obviously having these high-ranking men present with him could be somewhat intimidating for John, but it was equally clear that they were thrown off by the prominence she was granting him. John suspected that such was her purpose. She was taking complete control of her country in but a few days. While he was certain she respected these men greatly, she needed to be able to exert her authority over them as well.

Most of the dinner passed without incident, as John dredged up long-unused habits of behavior around people of great status, remembering to offer the princess everything first, to wait to begin eating until she had, to offer to fill her cup when it ran low. That kind of gentility was perhaps at odds with the image he had presented to them before, and he could tell that Hammond and Neill in particular were curious. He answered their questions, but not always to their satisfaction. When things brushed too closely to his origin and things more than a few years in his past, he answered vaguely and changed the subject.

Then, as he was filling his own cup again with wine, Lord George said, “We received a letter today, from King Henry of Caldora.”

John nearly dropped the decanter. Thankfully, Lady Katherine’s hand darted out to steady the wine, and he had the fortunate excuse that the container was damp. While the lady-in-waiting took her kerchief and dried it off, the princess replied, “That is unexpected. How many years has it been since there has been any conversation between our two countries?”

“It was in your great-grandfather’s lifetime,” said Jacob Carter. John only just stopped himself from giving that answer.

Elizabeth stared down at her nearly empty plate, a thoughtful expression on her face. “What did the king have to say?” she asked quietly.

An awkward silence fell, and Hammond’s gaze fixed on John for a moment. Elizabeth sat up a little straighter and stared at her guardian levelly. Speaking very deliberately, she repeated, “What did the king have to say?”

Hammond glanced at Neill first and said, “He congratulates you on your upcoming coronation. I have the letter with me, if you wish to read it after the meal.”

Elizabeth nodded, and for a short time she sat in silence, clearly lost in thought. “Do you believe Caldora would be open to true relations between our countries?” she asked at last.

“We cannot tell from this letter alone, cousin,” Lord Daniel replied.

“Do you think it wise?”

The room was silent, and the four lords of Atalan looked around at each other as though casting about for the best answer. While they searched for the right phrase, John said, very quietly, “Yes, milady.”

Everyone else seemed shocked, but the princess looked at him with something akin to admiration in her eyes. “And why would you say that, Master John?” she asked.

“Caldora is your neighbor, Princess,” he answered, trying desperately to keep his voice level as he spoke on this subject. “Conflicts with the Goa’uld or the Ori would not be so easily solved as this one. And is it not best to have friends on your borders?”

Her ensuing smile was small but genuine. “You speak as though you read my mind.”

John couldn’t help but smirk. “I shall try not to do that again, your Highness.”

Elizabeth’s smile faded as she blushed slightly. As they continued to stare at each other, John wondered idly if she blushed this easily with other men.

Across the table, Lord George cleared his throat, but the princess waited another moment to look away. When she did, she stood from the table, and John and the others followed suit. “My lord,” she said, “I should like to read this letter, that I may answer it myself.”

With a nod, Lord George came around the table and produced the letter. She took it with a gracious nod and then turned her attention to the rest of the party. “Gentlemen,” she said, “I bid you good night.”

Lady Laura and Lady Katherine followed the princess from the room, leaving John alone with the four advisors, all of whom stared at him after Elizabeth had left. “I should go,” he offered.

“Yes,” said Lord Jonathan. “You should.”

John needed no other prompting to hurry from the table. Earlier he had been given a room and permission to stay the night if he wished, but he was not feeling in a mood to return there now. Instead, he found himself wandering into one of the many courtyard gardens in the palace, drinking in the moonlight and the sweet smell of honeysuckle and letting relief wash over him. He had kept his composure even while speaking of Caldora. He felt certain that he could keep his wits about him for as long as he chanced to stay in Atlantis.

As he lingered in a darkened corner of the garden, he heard footsteps coming into the place. Instinct drilled into him half a lifetime ago kicked in, and John stood stock still and waited. The voices were low and unfamiliar, but the words were a story as old as time itself.

“The rest you will receive when she is dead.” There was a sound of coins jingling together. “I suggest you find your opportunity before the coronation, or my lord will be most displeased.”

“Yes, sir,” said the other, whispering. Then, as swiftly as they had appeared, they parted ways, heading to different parts of the castle.

John forced himself to stay where he was until the footsteps faded. When at last all he could hear was the sound of crickets, he fled the garden, his heart racing as he rushed to find someone who needed to know what he had heard. There were only so many possible meanings to the conversation, none of them good.

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