She turned her back to him as she led to him into her lavish apartment, glancing back over her shoulder to make sure he was following behind. Couches upholstered in silvery material were strewn with colorful pillows. Low tables and a desk in a small sitting area to the side were veneered in matching burl walnut. Double doors at the far end of the room led to a terrace that overlooked some of the outer rim of the plateau and the now dark Azrith Plain out beyond.
The accommodations, softly lit by candles, were fit for a queen, yet as luxurious as her quarters were, they were no better than his. He chose not to say so.
“Come, sit, Abbot,” she said as she glided across an expanse of ornate carpeting on her way to one of the couches.
“Please, call me Ludwig.”
She glanced back over her shoulder again, again giving him the demure smile.
“Ludwig, then.”
Her auburn hair was done up on top of her head, held in place with a jeweled comb. Ringlets hung down in front of each ear. It left her flawlessly smooth, graceful neck bare.
She sat on the front edge of the cushions. The slit up the front of her long dress came up just high enough that he could see her bare knees pressed together as she leaned forward to lift a wine decanter.
“What was it you wished to see me about, Queen Orneta?”
She patted the couch beside her in invitation for him to sit. “If I’m to call you Ludwig, then you must call me Orneta.”
He sat, making sure there was a respectful space between them. “As you wish, Orneta.”
She poured two glasses of the red wine and handed him one.
“A queen who serves wine?”
She returned the smile. “The servants have been dismissed and sent home for the night. I’m afraid we’re all alone.”
She clinked her glass against his.
“To the future, and our knowledge of it,” she said.
He sipped when she did. He had an appreciation for quality wine and was not disappointed.
“An interesting choice for a toast, I must say.”
“You asked why I wished to see you. The toast is the reason. I wanted to see you about prophecy.”
Ludwig took a longer sip of wine. “What about it?” he finally asked, trying to sound innocently puzzled.
She gestured offhandedly. “I think prophecy is important.”
He dipped his head. “So I gathered from the luncheon a few days back when the Mother Confessor threatened to behead us for wanting to know more about it. You were quite impressive, standing up to her the way you did. You can’t be faulted for relenting at last under such a mortal threat.”
She smiled, but this time it showed less modesty and a little more cunning. “A ruse, I believe.”
“Really?” Ludwig leaned in. “You think it was an act?”
Orneta shrugged. “At the time I certainly didn’t think so. I guess I was caught up in the moment, the emotion, along with everyone else.”
“It was a frightful moment, there’s no doubt about that.” He took another sip. “But now, you think differently?”
The queen took her time before answering. “I’ve known the Mother Confessor a long time. Not so much personally, mind you, but I’m from the Midlands. Before the war, before the D’Haran Empire came to be, the Midlands was ruled by a Central Council, and the Central Council was ruled by the Mother Confessor, so I’ve had dealings with her in the past. I’ve never once known her to be temperamental or cruel. Tough, yes. Vindictive, no.”
“So you believe it was out of character for her?”
“Of course it was. We’ve been fighting the war a long time. I’ve known her to be absolutely ruthless with the enemy. Every night, she would send the head of the special forces, Captain Zimmer, out to cut the throats of the enemy as they slept. In the morning she would always ask to see the strings of ears he had collected.”
Ludwig lifted his eyebrows, trying to act at least a little scandalized as she went on.
“But I’ve never known her to be cruel to her own people, to innocent people, good people. I have seen her risk her life to save a child she doesn’t even know. I think cutting off the heads of everyone in the room would have been a pretty brutal way to teach a lesson to the people she rules. Such a thing simply is not in her character unless she had a powerful reason.”
Ludwig let out a long sigh. “You know her better than I do. I will take your word for it.”
“What I want to know is why she would go to such extremes.”
“What do you mean?”
“That was a pretty extreme performance, and quite convincing, at least until I thought it through. I think she did it because she and Lord Rahl are hiding something from us.”
Ludwig frowned. “Hiding something? Like what?”
“Prophecy.”
He decided to take a drink rather than say anything in order to let her go on to reveal her theories.
“I asked to see you because I’ve heard that you have something to do with prophecy.”
He smiled. “Yes, I guess you could say that.”
“Then prophecy is something that is respected in your land?”
“Fajin Province. That’s where I come from. The bishop—”
“The bishop?”
“Hannis Arc. Bishop Hannis Arc is the ruler of Fajin Province.”
“And he believes that prophecy is important?”
Ludwig inched a little closer along the couch and leaned in, confidentially. “Of course. We all do. I collect prophecy for him so that it might guide him in ruling our land.”
“As Lord Rahl and the Mother Confessor should do.”
He shrugged one shoulder. “That is what I believe.”
She poured him some more wine. “As do I.”
“You are a wise ruler, Orneta.”
This time she was the one who sighed. “Wise enough to know that prophecy is important.” She laid a hand on his forearm. “It is a great responsibility to lead a people. And prophecy can be a lonely belief, at times.”
“I’m sorry to hear that— being lonely in your beliefs about prophecy, I mean. So, there is no king for you?”
She shook her head. “No. Duty has been my companion since I ascended to the throne in my late twenties after long years of grooming for the position. That makes it hard to, well, hard to find the time for myself, for the companionship of one who shares beliefs with me.”
“That’s a shame. I think the Creator gave us the capacity for passion for a reason, just as He gave us prophecy for a reason.”
Her brow twitched. “Yes, I’ve heard some talk of what you’ve mentioned to others, talk about your beliefs that prophecy has a connection to the Creator, yet you do not worship the Creator. That seems a curious contradiction.”
Ludwig took a drink to give himself time to gather his thoughts.
“Well, have you ever spoken with the Creator?”
She let out a laugh, putting fingertips to her chest. “Me? No, He has never deemed it worth His time to speak to me.”
“Exactly.”
The laughter evaporated. “Exactly?”
“Yes. The Creator created everything. All the mountains, the seas, the stars in the sky. He creates life itself. He creates all living things.”
She turned more serious and leaned in a little. “Go on.”
“Can you imagine a being that could do such things? I mean, really, can you imagine a being such as the Creator? A being that created everything, and continues to create new life in uncountable numbers every day? Every new blade of grass, every new fish in the sea, every new soul born into the world. How could we, mere men, even imagine such a being? None of us can, really. We have no point of reference for creation out of nothing on such a cosmic scale. That’s why I say the Creator has to be beyond what you or I could ever begin to imagine.”
“I suppose you have a point.”
He tapped his temple for emphasis. “So if our small human minds are incapable of even imagining such
a being, then how can we know Him? Or presume to think that He notices us individually? If we cannot possibly know Him, then how could we have the temerity to worship Him? How can we presume to think we know that He would even desire such worship? Why would He? Do you long for the worship of ants?”