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Summary: A re-do of my story 'Desert Power'. Political intrigue, as well as some romance, occur in all worlds, regardless of rank or title.
Warning: Nothing.
Copyright: All mine.
This version is much more to my liking, and I hope that you will all enjoy this one more as well.
Please review if read. Comments, ideas, suggestions, and helpful criticism welcome.
“Yes, madam?” the Head of Security replied, approaching the monarch calmly.
“Jozef, the ceremony is tomorrow night,” she informed him, as her voice rang with anxiety.
“And what would the problem be, madam?” her asked politely. However, Jozef, who had worked with Maciela for over forty years and was her closest confident, knew quite well what the problem was.
“Don’t you have anything for Driden to do then?” she demanded, her white hair sitting atop her head like a second crown.
“It was your idea to have my nephew accompany your granddaughter in the first place,” he reminded her, the black-and-silver military uniform accentuating his cropped salt-and-pepper hair and black eyes. “Driden’s a good boy, and very devoted,” he added, his fingers stroking his small beard absentmindedly, an old habit of his.
“That’s the precise problem,” the regal woman argued. She stood and began to pace the room, her blue eyes flashing. “Aasta is going to become Queen of Gazonas one day – she needs a proper consort, of royal blood!”
“Consort?” Jozef repeated, and began to chuckle. “Pardon me madam, but Driden and Aasta have known each other for nineteen years – their entire lives. It’s natural that she wants to share it with him.”
“Oh, I have faith in my granddaughter’s intentions, Jozef. It’s your nephew I’m worried about,” Maciela informed him suddenly.
“Driden?” Jozef asked in surprise. “I assure you your concerns are ill-founded, madam,” he assured her with a bow. “Now, if you will excuse me, I shall continue preparations for tomorrow night’s ceremony.” Completing his business, the man turned and strode from the room confidently, sword held by his side in a silver scabbard.
Maciela watched him leave, and then lowered herself onto her throne. She was exceedingly proud of her city-palace, which was built on the water and boasted the most perfect gardens – but she was prouder still of Aasta, her granddaughter and only heir to the Gazonas throne.
“All I want is what is best for her,” she sighed, convinced Driden was not that. Playing with her jeweled rings for a moment, she stood and strode out to her gardens to soothe herself. The city-palace was just as it sounded, the majority of the city integrated into a single palace with private areas for royalty and personal use. Solid stairways connected the several levels of the city-palace, the highest several miles above the ocean surface, while the lowest was actually in the water itself, windows reaching right to the top of the water and skimming the surface.
“Oh, Driden,” she stopped what she was doing and turned from the flowers to greet him. “Is there something wrong?”
Looking into her pale-green eyes, he gulped convulsively and took a seat nearby.
“I don’t think your grandmother wants me to accompany you during tomorrow’s ceremony,” he confided, folding his hands in his lap and peering at her expectantly.
“Oh, Grandmother is just nervous,” Aasta shrugged, as she brushed back her long hair impatiently, tucking the light-brown strands behind her ear. “She’s known you your whole life, after all. You’ve seen how she gets.”
“Well, her attitude toward me is…different somehow,” Driden persisted, picking up a waterier as his green eyes flashed. “I don’t understand what the matter is.”
Aasta sighed, and examined her flowers – exotic specimen from all over their galaxy. She brushed her hands off to rid them of the dirt she had been working with and fingered the petals gently, disregarding the dirt she was getting on her deep-blue gown.
“Driden, what’s the matter with you? You’ve been acting strange this past week,” she pointed out, rolling her long sleeves back down and adjusting her skirt absently. “Are you nervous about the ceremony?”
“It’s…nothing, Aasta. Really,” Driden sighed, and stood up. “I better go help Jozef with security plans. I’ll see you tomorrow, all right?”
“All right, Driden,” Aasta nodded calmly, a look of confusion on her face. She watched as he left, then returned to her flowers. After several more minutes she was approached by a woman with naturally-silver hair and deep violet eyes.
“Excuse me, princess?” the attendant asked, drawing closer as Aasta straightened once more.
“What is it?” the princess asked curiously, noticing the package in her hands.
“Contessa Iloilo sends this as a coronation gift,” the woman held out the small chest. “What do you want me to do with it?” The attendant wrinkled her nose at the gift, a gesture which Aasta saw and smiled at.
“Place it in my chamber, Qiana. I’ll examine it later,” Aasta told her, and the woman bowed slightly and quickly stepped from the room. Aasta waved her hand casually after her before resuming her gardening.
“Jozef…” Driden heaved a sigh, looking for the right words.
“This involves Aasta and the ceremony tomorrow night, correct?” Jozef interrupted, a frown creasing his features. He was positive Aasta regarded the young man as no more than a friend, but lately he wasn’t so sure of Driden’s feelings for the princess, and knew no good would come of it if the young man acted on his feelings. To his dismay, Driden nodded, looking relieved.
“This is so important for Aasta and Queen Maciela – I don’t want to ruin it for them, but…” he trailed off expectantly, and blinked when Jozef suddenly stopped to observe him.
“I see,” Jozef nodded sagely, after gazing at the young soldier for a few moments. “I suggest you stop right here. I may be your uncle, but I am honest with Queen Maciela in all our dealings. She has already professed concerns regarding your relationship with the Princess to me.”
Driden stammered for a few seconds, looking surprised, but fell silent when Jozef said no more. After a few more moments of walking, he spoke again, not glancing over at his uncle.
“I appreciate it, Jozef. I’ll do my best, while keeping your words in mind.”
“Do that,” Jozef said with a firm nod. The two continued down the hall in total silence, an uncomfortable atmosphere in the air.
“She is not my only grandchild. You will learn,” Maciela said crisply, waving the several women from the room. She waited until they were gone before turning to her granddaughter and gracing her with a smile. “And it is you I want as my heir, Aasta, and not your cousin.”
“Thank you, Grandmother,” Aasta nodded, a weak smile appearing before fading away as worry filled her thoughts. She finished dressing in silence, assisted only by her grandmother. For this momentous occasion, no servants were allowed to touch Aasta’s body, in order to keep her cleansed for her promises. When she was done, the pair examined the mirror in satisfaction.
“Lovely. Perfectly beautiful,” Maciela complimented her, and smiled brightly as Aasta colored. The princess wore a snug aquamarine gown with a long sheer skirt, and sheer folds of fabric draped off of her shoulders. Her hair was partly braided, and piled on her head.
“I’m glad you’re pleased,” Aasta replied, and inclined her head happily. “I hope the others will be so glad.” Maciela inspected her face sharply, but apparently found no insinuations. After inspecting her one last time for any imperfections, the elderly woman was finally satisfied and nodded.
“Come. Joshua will be waiting, and the ceremony is to begin in an hour,” the grandmother informed her calmly, denying herself the urge to take a deep breath to calm her nerves. Taking Aasta’s hands, Maciela proudly led her out of the room and down the hall.
“Of course,” he replied, frowning at his reflection.
“That’s natural. Just remember – you are not the one on display, Aasta is. Don’t let her down,” Jozef warned, fixing his nephew’s collar with an extra-tight tug.
“I won’t,” Driden said, mostly to himself. Jozef raised his eyebrows, overhearing the remark, but said nothing for the time being.
“Don’t be so nervous, Princess,” Jozef reassured her calmly, striding down the long hallway and looking down at her. Smiling encouragingly, he took her hand for a moment before slipping into the room ahead, double-checking to make sure nothing was out of order. Jozef also wore a small earpiece to keep in contact with his men, having tightened security for this occasion.
“Driden!” Aasta called, spotting him as he strode up to her stiffly, looking uncomfortable in the uniform.
“You look…beautiful,” he managed, and stared at her for a moment before closing his mouth.
“Nervous?” she asked, before taking his arm and facing the doors with a determined look on her face.
“Yes – but no one’s going to pay any attention to me,” he told her with a shrug. “Just concentrate on your grandmother, remember?”
“Is that supposed to help me, or threaten me?” Aasta smiled nervously, squeezing his hand. Hearing the music begin, the guards, wearing the same uniform as Driden, swung the doors open and the pair took their first steps forward.
A collective gasp went up – from the throng at the sight of Aasta, and from Aasta at the sight of the hall. The room resembled an old-fashioned cathedral, with a raised pedestal at the end of the room where the Queen was waiting. Behind her were two golden thrones in the form of conch shells, with ornate stained-glass windows reaching to the skies behind her. The mass of people was on either side of a crimson carpet with silver edging, stretching from the double doors to the platform facing them. The entire room was created from a turquoise marble with a faint silvery glow, and the ceiling and walls were dripping with colorful flowers and lush green vines.
Each taking a deep breath, Aasta and Driden began to stride forward. Jozef, standing to the side and near the pedestal, smiled proudly as the pair approached the silver-gowned queen. Driden moved next to his uncle, and Aasta remained in front of her grandmother.
“Good job, Driden,” Jozef muttered. Driden nodded in appreciation, their eyes fixed on the women before them. The Queen moved forward to a square silver basin, reaching three feet in height and filled with water from the sea. Reaching out silently, she took Aasta’s hands and placed them into the water. The ceremony then began, the people waiting anxiously to see a new heir announced.
“Princes Aasta Palrsing, daughter of Prince Bandore Palrsing, son of Queen Maciela Palrsing, royal by marriage of the throne of Gazonas,” Maciela began to intone, “Do you swear by the lifeblood of this world to protect the people of Gazonas unto death?”
“I do,” Aasta nodded. Her grandmother lifted her hands out of the water and promptly dipped them in again.
“Princess Aasta Palrsing, daughter of Prince Bandore Palrsing, son of Queen Maciela Palrsing, royal by marriage of the throne of Gazonas, do you swear by your birthright as heir to the royal crown of Gazonas, to retain the title of Her Royal Highness Princess Aasta Palrsing, Queen of Gazonas, unto death?” the Queen continued her gaze fixed on her granddaughter, whose face, usually slightly tanned from the sun and flushed with color, was pale and solemn.
“I do,” Aasta nodded, and had dipped her hands for a second time.
“Princess Aasta Palrsing, daughter of Prince Bandore Palrsing, son of Queen Maciela Palrsing, royal by marriage of the throne of Gazonas, do you swear by the royal blood that runs through you, to choose as a consort only one of royal blood?” Maciela chanted, and Jozef and Driden both believed they detected a glimmer of triumph in Maciela’s eyes as Aasta nodded.
“I do,” she promised, and had her hands dipped for the third and final time.
“By immersing your hands in the lifeblood of your planet, you have thus immersed your soul in the vows you have sworn to. May your blood run cold and your soul wither should you ever betray Gazonas,” Maciela finished, and dried Aasta’s hands. She then turned to another stand beside her and lifted a glittering crown from a velvet case, holding it reverently. Placing it on Aasta’s bowed head, Maciela placed her hands on the princess’ shoulders and turned her to face the throng.
“Sons and daughters of Gazonas, proclaim your loyalty to Her Royal Highness, Princess Aasta Palrsing, heir to the royal crown and title of Queen to Gazonas!” she announced, raising her voice so it bounced off the walls and echoed in the peoples’ ears. As the crowd broke out in cheers and applause, Aasta felt her knees weaken slightly. Smiling nervously, she faced the crowd, resplendent in the jewels of the crown and the flowers surrounding her.
“Yes, thanks,” Aasta nodded, and began to brush her hair. “It’s all like a dream or something. I still can’t believe it happened – now I’m the legal heir.”
“I’m very proud of you, my dear,” Maciela swept in, as if riding the crest of a wave, and appeared stern. “Aasta, could you excuse Driden and I for a moment? Thank you.” Aasta frowned a bit, but did as she was told and quickly left her room, passing Jozef who was going in.
“Yes, your majesty?” Driden asked, and bowed as she lowered herself onto a seat. Jozef remained by the door, while Driden appeared nervous. Qiana had followed Aasta from the room, leaving the three alone in the room.
“You behaved very well tonight, Driden. I thank you for that,” Maciela began. “You and Aasta have known each other your whole lives, and are very good friends, correct?” Driden nodded hesitantly, unsure where this conversation was going.
“I’m sure that you also want the best for her, considering she now has a considerable reputation to uphold,” Maciela continued, and eyed him suspiciously. “Which is why I want you to stop seeing her.”
“What?” Driden exclaimed, unable to contain himself.
“There is no harm in their friendship, madam,” Jozef protested smoothly, taking a step forward. Maciela glanced at him warningly, but he continued. “Surely there must be restrictions, but to have them separate altogether is a bit rash, if I may say so.” Although he was standing up for his nephew, the older man felt a bit relieved that Maciela was forcing Driden away from the princess, and kept a close eye on the riled young man.
“I decide what is best for my granddaughter, Jozef – no one else,” Maciela said stiffly, clearly annoyed at being argued with, then turned to Driden again. “Will you do this willingly, or must I use force?”
“If you think it would be best for Aasta, then I will do it,” Driden agreed after a long pause, and took a deep breath as Maciela rose to her feet and nodded.
“I’m glad you feel that way,” Maciela smiled, and inclined her head slightly toward Jozef. “You may both leave now. Send Aasta in.”
“Yes, Madam,” Jozef nodded, while he and Driden both bowed. Driden quickly strode from the chamber, followed by his uncle. Aasta gave them both curious glances as they moved past her, and reentered her room to observe her grandmother.
“Grandmother, what’s the matter?” Aaliya asked, narrowing her eyes slightly.
“It is nothing. You will see no more of Driden on intimate terms – he has agreed to this,” Maciela told her calmly, facing her granddaughter.
“Why did you do that?” Aasta demanded, “Grandmother, I can’t believe you would do this! There’s absolutely nothing wrong with my friendship with Driden!”
“I did nothing that was not necessary!” Maciela informed the young woman before angrily. “I am doing what is best for your future and protection, Aasta. I hope one day you will understand.”
“I suppose you think you are,” Aasta sighed, and slowly sat down. She knew her grandmother too well to argue the point, and decided to let the matter drop. Driden’s attentions had been making her a bit uncomfortable for the past few weeks anyway, but she wasn’t about to admit that to her grandmother. “I’m very tired – may I please be excused for the night?”
“Yes, you may. Tomorrow you will begin your duties,” Maciela nodded, relieved Aasta hadn’t pressed the subject. She kissed her granddaughter’s forehead and swept out of the room, closing the doors behind her. Aasta remained sitting for a few moments before taking a deep breath and looking up to see Qiana observing her. The woman was quite a bit taller than the princess, only four inches under six feet, but her manners never made her appear intimidating or aggressive.
“Please dismiss the other chambermaids, Qiana,” she requested tiredly. “I’d like to have some privacy, as well as a hot bath before bed.”
“Of course, princess,” the woman nodded, and turned her attention to the several other women, all varying in age, who together were Aasta’s personal attendants for her chambers.
After relaxing in a hot bath for a bit, Aasta reluctantly left the warm water and stepped into the relatively-cool air, goosebumps rising on her flesh. Qiana wrapped her in a pale violet robe over a white silk nightgown, both gathered at the waist, before moving to change into her own nightgown, a solid black with silver trim.
“Do you require anything, Highness?” Qiana checked, following the princess into her bedroom. Aasta’s chambers consisted of several private rooms, including a modestly-sized bedroom as she had requested, uncomfortable in large rooms by herself.
“No, thank you, Qiana. You and the others may retire,” Aasta informed her with a sigh. After the woman left, she climbed into her bed and crawled underneath the covers, hugging a pillow to herself. The chamber, though not incredibly large, was open and airy, the large windows allowing the sea breeze to flow through the room as the drapery remained tied back to let the moonlight in.
“It’s still hard, though,” Driden admitted, his face sour. Jozef eyed his nephew out of the corner of his eye, quickly sidestepping a child that ran across their path.
“It’s to be expected. However, I believe it is best for both of you,” his uncle informed him. “Now you can concentrate on your duties to the military more, and save some time for meeting new girls, hm?”
“Perhaps,” the young man said nonchalantly, and his uncle sighed.
“On a more serious note, I have received recent reports that there may be a threatening force moving against the Princess,” Jozef told him, “Her Highness has ordered us to be on highest security alert, of course.”
“Who do they think it will be?” Driden asked, turning a corner as he strode beside his uncle.
“Contessa Zahra Iloilo is suspected,” Jozef said quietly, and his nephew blinked at this news.
“The Queen’s own niece?” Driden asked in surprised.
“My court spy at Liwkel reports discontent in Zahra’s inner circle – supposedly concerned about the fact that she is not the new heir to the throne,” Jozef briefed him. “My spy fears that life-threatening ventures may begin against Princess Aasta anytime.”
“What are the precautions, besides the usual?” Driden asked. The pair had reached the forges at this time, where their swords were to be prepared for combat.
“Some of her maids I have replaced with trained female soldiers,” Jozef continued, “The Princess is not allowed to leave the court unattended, etcetera. Enzi and I are to live in the Princess’ shadow until the danger is past, to put it plainly.”
“Her Highness chose Enzi?” Driden asked in surprise, and Jozef detected a threatening tone in the young man’s voice.
“Her Highness allowed me to choose who was to guard the princess, Driden, and Enzi is an experienced soldier. Her Highness is not a cold woman – and the Princess is not an expendable pawn in this bid for power,” Jozef told him sternly. “Unfortunately, I will soon have to replace this spy.”
“Why?”
“The climate on Liwkel is the exact opposite of Gazonas. It is a desert planet, with almost no existing plant life. Several oases are scattered throughout the planet, but…The spy’s bodily functions are not conditioned to that environment, and he shall soon die if not removed soon,” Jozef told him, “Each spy can only remain several months, at the least. The most is almost two years, regretfully.”
“Why are we not able to condition our spies’ bodily functions to the planets they are being sent to?” Driden asked.
“We have tried, but Gazonas simply does not have the resources to copy the exact conditions the spies will encounter,” Jozef informed him, “Liwkel is virtually the only planet our spies have such environmental problems. Great desert monsters, severe weather conditions….it is impossible.”
“That would present a problem,” Driden admitted, inspecting his sword. Pleased, he slid it back into his sheath.
“Native spies are hard to find, and ones that I can trust are almost nonexistent,” Jozef shook his head as they left the workers. “I have them on several other planets, of course, but Zahra’s influence has influenced her people far too much to make them much use to us.”
Some similarites to Dune later, on a certain world, because I love that series so much. Please review.
