The morning light coming through the big windows of the Queen's suite wasn't the harsh gray glow of dawn in Dreadmoor. It was a soft, honey-gold light that felt a bit unsettling, showing off the swirling dust particles in the air and the opulence that still felt a bit weird to Soren.
Last night, he cried himself to sleep, with Aethel holding his hand the whole time. He felt a mix of frustration and anger, and he was embarrassed to face Mrs. Aethel after what had happened. He cried and wailed like a child losing a toy.
He tried to sit up slowly, thinking about the pain he'd felt yesterday. But when he pressed his hand lightly to the bed, the pain was gone. It was all gone, like magic. He was back to his old self. Soren looked down at his stomach. Nothing had changed except for a slight bulge, though his stomach was still flat and had distinct abs.
He glanced over at the edge of the bed, his sword gone.
"We have relocated your sword, Your Majesty." The soft voice broke the silence in the room, answering Soren's question that had just popped into his head.
Soren turned and saw Mrs. Aethel in the room with two other maids behind her. They were holding a wooden tray with some folded clothes. How come Soren didn't realize the woman was there? Mrs. Aethel bowed her head slightly. "Good morning, Your Majesty. It's wonderful to see that you've recovered." She said, smiling.
Soren looked a little awkward, what had happened last night still fresh in his mind. He wailed and cried, clutching Mrs. Aethel's arm tightly as if he was in unbearable pain, even though he was a knight commander. He cleared his throat and looked again at the pile of silk cloths on the tray.
"Is it for me?" He asked, then pointed to the tray. Mrs. Aethel nodded. "Where is my armor?"
"The High Alchemist and physicians discouraged the use of iron and leather attire, and many chose to avoid any items associated with these materials." Mrs. Aethel said, her eyes still looking politely at the floor. "Due to the possible transitions in your body, it's possible that your skin might become sensitive and sore."
Soren frowned, looking into the big mirror that was near the big wooden cabinet. He could see the scars on his face. He had a scar that runs from his forehead to his eyebrow, down to his eye, and then down to his jaw. He had three scars that went from the left side of his lip to his chin. What other wounds are there to worry about?
"I'm not a porcelain doll," Soren let out a grumble, looking down at his legs as he turned to walk away. They were still long and strong, and had been shaped by years of riding, but his hard, muscular calves looked... softened. His skin felt incredibly smooth, like the calluses of a decade of war had been removed.
"The King has invited you to join him for breakfast at the Solarium." Mrs. Aethel kept going, ignoring Soren's many muttering comments. The middle-aged woman waved to the maids behind her to get Soren ready quickly.
Soren didn't say anything as the maids got everything ready, just like they did yesterday. They took off all his clothes, showing the golden lines on his body, and took him to the baths. They dressed him in the finest silks he rarely wore, even though he was the son of a Marquis of Dreadmoor.
Soren gritted his teeth, trying not to fly off the handle, even though what the Veridians were doing was rubbing him the wrong way as a knight commander. They wrapped him up in Veridian silk to finish the job.
The tunic was black and white with gold details that looked like tree roots, going from the shoulders to the waist, and had a low V-neck. It had long sleeves with big cuffs, and the fabric was so light it felt like wearing nothing at all. The tunic clung to his lower back and hung down to his hips in a way that felt incredibly feminine to a man who had only ever known the stiff embrace of boiled leather. He glanced in the mirror and saw a whole new person.
Soren Vane Delve, the knight commander, had become more than just a pretty face.
"Do I have to wear this?" He asked Mrs. Aethel, because he looked like a different person. He didn't even recognize himself, and it wasn't very comfortable.
"The King is waiting for you, Your Majesty the Queen." Mrs. Aethel gave him a gentle reminder as she put the finishing touches on Soren's outfit. There was nobody else in the room, and now it was just the two of them.
Mrs. Aethel glanced at Soren, who looked a bit unhappy with today's outfit. To be honest, Mrs. Aethel was pretty shocked to find out that the Queen picked by the Mother Tree was a man, especially since he was a Knight Commander of Dreadmoor, known for its strong and trustworthy knights. She knew that in the history of the Veridian kingdom, the chosen one by the Mother Tree wasn't determined by gender. Whoever was chosen would be able to conceive and give birth to the next heir.
When she first saw the Knight Commander, she was impressed by how the man, with his large frame and broad shoulders, would become the "vessel" for the seed of the Veridian kingdom. He looked so handsome despite his scarred face, and his pale silver hair shone brightly when he first entered the palace. But at that moment, Mrs. Aethel was just wondering how a guy with such a fit body could actually go through with having a kid.
What went down last night, and how the High Alchemist Malakor explained the changes that happened after eating the fruit of the Mother Tree, made her see things clearly. Lady Aethel was pretty sure that the knight commander's tears last night weren't because of the pain he was feeling. She thought it was something else. As a woman and a mother, she could totally understand the meaning of that formidable man's tears last night. Tears that expressed a mix of emotions: disappointment, anger, and more.
"We have taken the liberty of cleaning your boots, armor, and sword, and we believe they will be stored in one of the wooden cabinets." Mrs. Aethel tied the back of the silk Soren was wearing. She looked up at him and smiled big before bowing her head again in respect.
Soren looked at her, and his expression changed right away, "Really? They won't throw it away?"
Mrs. Aethel's eyes widened when she heard that and then she chuckled softly, "Your Majesty, we would never dream of throwing away your belongings."
Soren muttered, "To be honest, I thought the kingdom would dispose of everything related to me as a knight commander."
Mrs. Aethel didn't say anything for a second. She wanted to say something, but she couldn't. Instead, she decided to go with Soren to the Solarium.
The walk to the Solarium felt suffocating for Soren. Every servant they passed stopped and bowed low in respect for their new queen. Soren could feel their eyes on him as they followed the lines of his body through the thin silk he was wearing. He felt exposed, like his pride was torn apart in front of the whole palace. He was getting angrier and angrier, but he didn't know how to deal with it.
The solarium was a glass-domed room filled with exotic plants that weren't suited to winter, but they flourished in the much warmer air. There was a long table in the middle of the room, and Lucian was sitting at it.
The king was dressed in a black and gold silk tunic with white embroidery, but Lucian's tunic didn't have a low V-neck. He watched as the butlers put plates of food on the table one by one, his hand stirring a little spoon in a teacup. He looked tired and distracted. When Soren came in, the sound of his footsteps made Lucian jump.
The man turned around, his eyes going wide, making Soren pause. Lucian was stunned when Soren came into the Solarium. The closer he got, the more he could see the man's face flush.
"We bring His Majesty the Queen.." Mrs. Aethel bowed deeply.
"Ah- Yeah…" Lucian gave an awkward reply, and one of the butlers dragged a chair next to him and invited Soren to sit down.
Lucian's eyes were still on Soren, and now the queen was sitting next to him.
"Uh," Lucian opened his mouth as the butlers set plates and bowls in front of Soren.. "You looks so-"
"Stupid?"
"Huh?" Lucian raised his head and looked at Soren, confused because the man had suddenly interrupted him.
"Don't I look like a royal jester, Your Majesty? Is this also part of the ritual to make me a full-fledged Queen?" Soren said this without even looking at Lucian, and his tone was so cold.
The butlers tried to act like they didn't hear the two of them, but they could feel the tension in the air. They finished setting up breakfast and then hid behind the wall while Thomas and Aethel were still in the room with some guards.
Lucian lowered his head, stirring the tea in his cup, which was probably already cold. "Your Majesty, the royal court picked the silk to make you comfortable." He spoke in a mumbling tone that really got on Soren's nerves. He couldn't stand people like this young king. He's always mumbling when he tries to speak up, and he never says what he's thinking because he's afraid.
Soren grabbed the bread before him, ignoring the king. He really didn't like how the silk sleeves kept slipping down, showing off the glittering gold lines on his wrists. Every movement reminded him of how "soft" his body felt now.
He started spreading the jam. His eyebrows went up a bit. Maybe this was just how things were done in the royal family. At his place, he had four little courses for the main meal, with protein, fiber, and carbs in each one. The rest of the meal was fruit. Dreadmoor wasn't a poor region, but because of its usually long winters, there weren't a lot of fresh vegetables around. Even in the Manor, food was served in moderation. He ate the bread with the jam he'd just spread on it. The jam was sweet and savory, and the bread had a pleasant texture. He liked it.
Soren started eating breakfast slowly, and he really felt like eating. He hadn't eaten anything since he got to the palace, and the torture from last night had made him lose his appetite.
"The royal officials decided to skip the second process of a banquet with the officials because of the worsening condition of The Mother Tree." Lucian said, "The people want to see their Queen. " He said that after explaining what the Council of Officials was planning.
Soren laughed out loud, rudely answered, "Queen? Is that what they call me after yesterday's ritual? I'm the Commander of the Basalt Guard, and I turned the Dreadmoor army into one of the strongest forces in Arboris, even the Veridians can't compete. And if you put me in this silk, I'll tell them exactly what kind of "Grace" they have." Soren finished his sentence, but then he stopped when he looked at Lucian.
The young king's green eyes, usually seen as weak, were looking at him boldly, showing a hidden strength. "And if you do anything against the kingdom's rules, the Council will stop the shipment of Sap to Dreadmoor. Do you think I'm the only one who can play tyrant, Commander? The Council members are pretty heartless. They don't care about your sister. They care about the Tree."
Soren's tongue suddenly went numb, and the fact that Lucian had said it was like a cold splash of water over his head. Soren was frozen in place by the fierce look he got from Lucian.
Where did the weak king go?, Soren was thinking to himself.
There was no trace of the helpless weakling when he spoke to Soren, the hairs on the back of his neck bristled. His appetite just dropped.
"Finish your breakfast," Lucian added, standing up from his chair and almost leaving the Solarium, "You know silk is nothing compared to your sister's life, right? You're just trading your pride while your sister fights for hers." Lucian ended his sentence with a very cold tone. He left with Thomas, leaving Soren at the dining table.
Mrs. Aethel took a deep breath as she heard everything. She hurried over to Soren and said, "Your Majesty..."
Soren grabbed the napkin roughly as he lowered his head.
Lucian stepped out of the Solarium, and the door made a loud slamming noise as it closed. His robes rustled loudly as he walked quickly. He felt angry. From the start, he'd tried to be patient with Soren's actions. He realized that the Knight Commander's pride was pretty much shattered, now that he was just a bearer of an heir to the throne. But Soren never realized how much Lucian had to deal with on his own.
After his father passed away, he figured he'd be able to adjust to being a king in Veridian and lead Arboris, even though deep down he wasn't really interested in doing so. Being a king wasn't really his thing. But actually, around the same time he was crowned, The Mother Tree started looking a bit grim. Things weren't going so well. The tree's fruit ripened just as he was crowned king and bore the name Soren Vane Delve as queen of Veridian. Lucian's challenge wasn't just adapting to the royal scene and becoming a king, but also learning the ropes of being a husband to a man.
"I'm not enjoying this either..." He muttered under his breath, and Thomas closed the door behind him after Lucian entered the room, trying not to let anyone overhear the young king's ramblings. "I'm really not enjoying what's happening right now, Thomas! But the tree is hungry, and just like the Commander, I'm just a servant!" Lucian shouted loudly at Thomas, who lowered his head and nodded slowly.
He also didn't like wearing the Veridian tunic, he only wanted to wear clothes for worship. He wanted to go back to church and devote himself to God instead of kneeling, bowing his head, and serving the Mother Tree.