ISLA
The morning sun cast a golden hue over the palace courtyard as I found myself seated once again on the King’s powerful black horse. My hands gripped the reins tightly, though her larger hands rested over mine with a casual assurance that made me feel both comforted and anxious. The lessons of being a Queen were endless, and today, the King insisted we take them outside.
“You’re stiff again,” she murmured behind me, her voice brushing against my ear like the wind. “Relax. The horse can sense it.”
I tried to loosen my grip, but her presence behind me made it nearly impossible. The proximity, her warmth, her unyielding strength—all of it set my heart pounding. “I’m trying,” I mumbled, earning a soft chuckle from her.
We rode through the palace grounds, her hands guiding mine whenever the horse threatened to veer off course. As we ventured beyond the gates into the rolling meadows, I began to relax, letting the rhythmic motion of the horse soothe my nerves. The King’s voice was calm and instructive as she explained the customs and laws of the kingdom.
“The Queen is more than a figurehead,” she said. “You’ll be expected to advocate for the people. Attend councils. Understand the intricacies of the law.”
“I’m studying as much as I can,” I assured her, though my voice wavered. “But I’m not sure if I’ll ever know enough.”
She leaned closer, her chin nearly brushing my shoulder. “You’re already doing more than many would dare. That’s enough for now.”
Her words, though reassuring, carried a weight that reminded me of the enormous responsibility I bore. As the fields stretched before us, dotted with wildflowers swaying in the breeze, she asked a question that caught me off guard.
“What was your life like before?” Her tone was light, almost teasing, but I could sense the genuine curiosity beneath it.
I hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. “It wasn’t much of a life,” I began cautiously. “I worked, sold goods in the market, tried to keep us fed.”
“Us?” she pressed gently.
“My father and me,” I said, my voice dropping. “He wasn’t always… the way he is now. He used to be kind. Loving, even.”
The King’s hands tightened slightly over mine, but she didn’t interrupt. The words spilled out of me, unbidden but unstoppable.
“When my mother died, everything changed. She was… she was killed by palace guards.” My voice cracked, and I swallowed hard, trying to steady myself. “She begged them for help. My father was sick, and we had nothing. She thought… she thought they’d understand.”
The King’s voice was quiet but firm. “What happened?”
“They struck her down in the streets.” My hands trembled against the reins, and I felt her steady them with her own. “I was just a girl, hiding in the shadows, watching it all. After that, my father changed. He became bitter, angry. He took it out on me.”
I felt her shift behind me, her presence suddenly more intense. “Isla,” she said, my name a command and a comfort all at once. “You think I don’t know this?”
I froze. “What?”
“I’ve read the reports. I know about your life, your father, your attempt to kill me. I know it all.” Her voice was steady, but there was something raw beneath it, something that made my chest ache.
“Then why?” I whispered. “Why didn’t you punish me? Or him?”
She was silent for a long moment before speaking. “Because I’m not my father.”
The words hit me like a blow.
I turned to face her, the motion awkward but necessary. “Your father?”
Her golden eyes met mine, unflinching. “The King at that time. It was his order to keep the guards merciless. To instill fear. I was just a child then, Isla. But I won’t pretend his actions didn’t shape the world you grew up in.”
My breath hitched as understanding washed over me. All my anger, my hatred, my desire for vengeance—it was misplaced.
“I blamed you,” I said, my voice trembling. “I thought it was you who ruined my life. Who took everything from me.”
“You were wrong,” she said simply. “But not entirely. I wear this crown now, Isla, and with it comes the weight of his sins. That is why I’ll never stop trying to make things right.”
Tears blurred my vision as I whispered, “Please don’t hurt him. My father… he wasn’t always like this. It’s my fault he became so bitter. He loved my mother, and losing her broke him.”
She reached out, her fingers brushing my cheek. “You’re too forgiving for your own good.”
I shook my head, mustering a small smile. “I’m just… tired of hate.”
Her gaze softened, and for a moment, I thought I saw something vulnerable in her eyes. Then, as if to chase it away, she leaned in and kissed the corner of my lips. It was a fleeting touch, but it sent warmth coursing through me.
“Let’s ride back,” she said, her voice quieter now. “There’s much more to teach you.”
As we rode through the quiet expanse of green, the rhythm of the horse’s hooves filled the space between us. The sun was lowering, bathing everything in amber light, and the soft breeze carried the sweet scent of blooming wildflowers. I leaned back slightly into the King’s chest as her arms kept me steady. The silence wasn’t awkward—it felt weighted, waiting for something to be said.
“I’ve told you my life,” I ventured softly, keeping my gaze ahead. “It’s only fair you tell me about yours.”
She chuckled, the sound low and rich in my ear. “Fair?” she repeated, as though the word amused her. “Life has rarely been fair to me, Isla.”
Her tone grew softer, more introspective, and I felt her lips brush against the nape of my neck—light, fleeting, enough to make my breath catch.
“I was a girl who grew up too fast,” she began. “Because I had to.”
Her words were accompanied by the warmth of her hand lightly grazing my waist, as though grounding herself in the present while speaking of the past.
“My father...” she paused, her lips pressing against my neck again, lingering. “He loathed me.”
I turned my head slightly, though I couldn’t see her face from this angle. “Why?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Her breath tickled my skin as she exhaled sharply, bitterly. “Because I was a disappointment to him. Not for lack of skill—I was his equal in battle by the time I was sixteen. Not for lack of discipline—I obeyed his every command as if it were law. No, he loathed me because I failed the one thing he deemed most important.”
I frowned. “What was that?”
The King’s lips grazed my nape again, this time slower, more deliberate. “I didn’t desire men. He saw it as a flaw in my very nature. A weakness. A disgrace to the family.”
I stiffened slightly, her confession surprising me, and she must have felt it because her arms around me tightened.
“You see, Isla,” she murmured, her voice dropping to a near whisper, “I fell in love once. A woman. She was...everything. Strong, kind, beautiful. But it wasn’t acceptable. It wasn’t allowed. My father saw to it that we could never be.”
Her words were heavy, but the way she spoke them, the way her lips continued to brush against my skin as she did, made my heart race.
“I thought I would never feel that again,” she admitted, her voice softer now, tinged with vulnerability. “That pull. That fire.”
I couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. Her arms wrapped tighter around me, and I felt her lips curve into a faint smile against my neck.
“But then you appeared, my Queen,” she whispered, her tone laced with something I couldn’t quite place—hunger, reverence, maybe both. “And now, I find myself utterly captivated.”
My cheeks burned, and I was grateful she couldn’t see my face. “You’re...you’re teasing me,” I stammered, though the tremble in my voice betrayed me.
She chuckled again, low and throaty. “Am I?” she asked, her lips grazing the sensitive spot just below my ear. “Tell me, Isla. Am I teasing, or am I being honest?”
I couldn’t answer, couldn’t think clearly. Her presence was overwhelming—her warmth, her strength, the way her words seeped into my very core.
“I don’t understand why you’d...” I started, but my voice faltered.
“Why I’d what?” she prompted, her lips now pressing lightly against my shoulder.
“Why you’d be...attracted to me,” I finally said, my voice barely audible.
She turned my face slightly, just enough for her golden eyes to lock onto mine. They burned with an intensity that made my heart stutter.
“Isla,” she said, her voice firm yet tender. “You are everything I desire. Your strength, your compassion, your beauty.”
I shook my head, averting my gaze, but she caught my chin, forcing me to look at her.
“You don’t see it yet,” she said, her tone softening. “But I do. And I will keep showing you until you believe it.”
Her words left me speechless, my mind a whirlwind of emotions. She leaned closer, her lips brushing against my temple in a gesture so tender it brought tears to my eyes.
“I am yours, Isla,” she murmured. “And you are mine. Never doubt that.”
I couldn’t respond, my throat tight with emotion. Instead, I let myself lean into her, the steady rhythm of the horse beneath us and the warmth of her embrace grounding me in the moment.
****