Gwen hardly knew what to say. She'd never felt so loved anywhere in her life. She had also never felt such a sense of responsibility.
There came a slamming of metal, and Gwen turned and saw a dozen soldiers, on both sides of the city gates, close the iron bars as the last of King’s Court filtered in. Gwen shuddered at the sound. There was a finality to it. They were in Silesia now. This was their new home. It felt good to be here. But also ominous. In that clang, she could hear themselves steeling themselves for war.
*
Gwendolyn sat in the beautiful castle chamber, high up, at the top of Silesia, and reveled in the quiet. It was the first time she had been alone in she did not know how long. Outside, behind the closed door, Srog’s men awaited her bidding. But she wouldn’t summon them just yet. She wanted a few minutes to herself.
It was a beautiful chamber, this room that had belonged to his late lady, and Gwen rose and paced slowly, taking it all in. Carved of a gorgeous red stone, the floor and walls were all smooth, ancient, worn, the ceilings cresting in dramatic arches. Perched at the top of the castle, facing west, the room overlooked the Canyon, expansive views flooding the room through wide and tall, arched windows.
Gwen looked out, and was in awe at the commanding view. She had never had such a view of the Canyon before, being perched literally on its edge; from here it seemed as if the whole world were the Canyon, one massive hole carved out of the earth, inside of which swirled mists of all colors. It was haunting and beautiful and peaceful and ominous all at the same time.
Gwen looked beyond, to the distant horizon, the Wilds, and in the farthest distance beyond that, she caught the slightest hint of the ocean yellow of the Tartuvian. Her thoughts turned to Thor, and her heart broke. She closed her eyes and prayed with all she had for his safety. She wanted him by her side, now more than ever. She wanted him alive. She wanted him to raise their child with her.
Gwen reached down and placed a palm on her stomach, sensing her baby. She knew it was impossible, so early on, yet still she felt fuller, more of herself. She felt the strength of two people within her.
It had been an overwhelming day, and Gwen was overcome by conflicting emotions as she surveyed the beautiful landscape. She tried to prepare herself mentally to be a leader, prepare herself to ride out what would surely be the most awful siege in the history of the Ring. In some ways, she could not help but feel that this city would be her final resting place.
She tried to shake the gloomy thoughts from her mind. She walked to a small stone fountain, scooped the cold water, and splashed her face several times. The cold gusts of winter whipped into the room and caressed her wet face, stinging her. It felt good. She wanted to be stung. She needed to wake up, to realize where she was, what was about to happen. She needed to stop thinking of herself, to know that it was time to rule, that people were looking to her.
The thought overwhelmed her. She thought of her father, of what he would do, of how he would think. He had taught her to always display an aura of confidence, whether she felt it or not. To make bold decisions. To not show any weakness, any wavering, any hesitation. To give people someone to believe in.
Gwen longed to see her father again, especially at a time like this. She would give anything just to have him there for a few minutes, to advise her. Even just a few sentences. A part of her felt him with her. She heard a screech and looked out the window, and saw a bird disappear into the mist, and she wondered.
Gwen crossed the room, to the spiral stone staircase that twisted and turned its way up to the parapets. In moments she reached the roof of the castle.
Alone up here, feeling the cold gusts of wind, looking out over the Canyon, it was even more breathtaking. She looked every which way for Estopheles, but could not find him.
Gwen walked to the edge of the parapets and looked out over Silesia. She looked down over the edge of the Canyon, and saw the lower half of the city, which she had not toured yet, built down low, hundreds of feet into the Canyon itself. It was breathtaking. She wondered how many Silesians lived down below, how many looked to her to save them. She hoped that she would be able to.
“Hiding again?" came a voice.
Gwen felt an immediate sense of repulsion at the sound of the voice. She turned slowly, but did not need to turn all the way to know who it was. She recognized that voice, and it put a pit in her stomach. As she saw his despicable face, it confirmed her suspicions: Alton.
Gwen couldn’t believe it. Here he was, this despicable aristocrat, this excuse of a man, who she hated more than anything; here was the boy who had tried to tear her apart from Thor, who had filled her head with lies, who had plagued her half her life. Somehow the little weasel had followed her caravan here, and somehow he had managed to talk his way past her guards. She was not surprised: he was persistent, relentless, and an excellent liar. And he was very good at convincing others that he was royalty.
Of course, he was not royalty. He was third-class royalty at best, her parents’ distant cousin. Yet that didn't stop him from feeling otherwise. She had never met anyone who had felt more entitled.
She flushed with rage. How dare he show up here, of all places, of all times? He had marched up here and had assumed he could just have an audience with her whenever he wanted, and could speak in such casual terms—as if refusing to acknowledge her new post now. His very presence, so brazen, unannounced, was offensive to her.
"What are you doing here?" she asked coldly.
"I tagged along with half of King's Court,” he said. “To be with you.”
"I doubt that very much,” she said, seeing through his lies. “You came to save your life.”
Alton shrugged.
"Perhaps I had a duality of purpose. True, Gareth is unhinged, and King’s Court is vulnerable. You could say I was tempted by a certain form of self-preservation."
He smiled and took a step forward.
"But I also came for you,” he said. “To give you another chance.”
Gwen snorted, outraged by his arrogance.
“To give me another chance?" she echoed. "Do you not recognize the lunacy of your words? You can recognize madness in Gareth—but not in yourself?”
Alton shrugged, undeterred.
"The past is the past," he said. "I forgive you your mistakes. But we both know that whatever happened between us does not apply now. Circumstances have changed. Here you are—a queen without a king, a ruler without a court. Every queen needs a king. Rulers find strength in pairs. Do you really think you can run this great city, rule all these armies by yourself?”