Camellia had never sat at ease on the throne, even when she had done it for six months now. She remembered still, how the business of thrones caused many deaths, and that it was her brother who had started that business.

James, who sat beside her, always looked at her lovingly and patted her hand, as if that simple act could take away her discomfort.

Perhaps, it would have worked, if Camellia had been in love with James. But she was not. So instead, she forced herself to smile every time he did that.

That day, she was feeling particularly wretched because of what she did earlier in the morning.

James had banned the used of magic anywhere in Ordeasia (he now ruled all of Ordeasia except for Gagdon and Lacquive), but what he did not know that the dearest, beautiful queen herself was practising the arts.

Yes, she thought to change fate earlier, that afternoon. She had slipped away to Herne and went to Aderlia's grave, and tried to resurrect her. She failed of course. Nothing happened.

Camellia wanted to tell James that she was sorry but she couldn't stay for long and that she had to go somewhere far away to practise more – and to be alone - but she knew James would never allow her.

Camellia glanced at her consort. He had shifted his attention to the village headman.

She would sneak away from the castle later, she told herself, when everyone else was sleeping. James would have to have someone else as his queen and probably would forget her very soon. He would find her disappearance very hard to deal with at first, but he would be able to cope with it sooner or later.

It was all for his good. She would bring back his only relative and he would be happy…