She'll Come Back to Me
The Lion War is over. As with any civil war, there was no winner.
People are relieved that peace has finally returned, but there are
still tens of thousands of dead, tens of thousands wounded. There are
multitudes of the homeless, the orphaned, the destitute, the crippled.
And there are many missing; their fate is unknown. For those who love
them, this is probably the worst outcome.
It’s not for me. I know that my beloved is gone, lost; but I know
that my love is strong and pure. She will be back. She’ll come back
to me.
My name is Ovelia. Don’t call me Queen, please, or Highness, or
Majesty. Those titles don’t fit me. I am a prisoner, that’s all. I
am an object of pity. My “husband,” Delita, is the ruler. He is the
king; he has the ambition; he has the power; he has the hatred that
sustained him on his path (of bootlicking and backstabbing) to the
throne. He’s abusive and lecherous. He controls. But he hasn’t
broken me. He will never break me. I will survive until my savior
arrives and emancipates me.
I live my life in waiting. It has been months since my champion left
me; it feels like centuries. But the parting seems like yesterday.
The touch of her lips on my forehead still burns. “I will return, my
Princess,” she said that day.
I believe her. She’ll come back to me.
Rumors fly around as the weeks, months, and seasons succeed each
other. People tell of an epic last stand against a demon. They say
that five courageous, heroic warriors fought that devil. They say
that two, a woman and a man, died at the beast’s claws before it was
finally destroyed. They call it noble. They say it was a supreme
sacrifice. They say the woman was a swordmistress with long, ash
blonde hair woven into a single braid. I believe that it was my
Agrias. I believe that she helped defeat the hellspawn. But I don’t
believe that she gave her life for the cause. She had already given
it to me.
Rumors are not reliable things.
Delita is away, visiting some other kingdom; I forget which.
There’s a knock at my door. At this time of day, it’s fairly unusual.
“Come in,” I call.
The heavy door swings easily on its oiled hinges, revealing two faces,
one of which is the familiar face of my oldest friend. I feel a grin
spread across my mouth. It’s been so long since I’ve smiled that it
almost hurts. “Queen Ovelia!” the cleric says as she drops to one
knee.
I laugh. “Don’t call me that, Alma; I’m still Ovelia, your friend.
Come in, come in!”
She enters the room and embraces me warmly. I return her hug; it
feels comforting. I get a better look at the other person, the very
tall woman who accompanies Alma.
“Ovelia, this is Reis,” Alma tells me. The woman bows elegantly. I
see that she fairly radiates power…and something else. Her eyes are
kind and intelligent.
“It is a great honor, your Majesty,” she says in a low, musical voice.
“Ovelia, please,” I say. “And the pleasure is mine.”
“How have you been?” Alma asks me.
“I’m all right, though I have been better.”
“I would like to believe that. I know Delita too well. I’ll cut
right to the chase, okay? We’re here to rescue you. Reis suggested
that we watch the castle until Delita left. Now that he’s gone, I beg
you to come with us.”
I sigh deeply. Alma is a very dear friend, but I must disappoint her.
“I’m really grateful for your offer. But I can’t leave yet.”
“But you must!” Reis exclaims.
“Please, Ovelia,” Alma urges me. “Delita isn’t stable; you know that.
He could decide that you aren’t needed and kill you. It’s just not
safe here.”
“I will be fine. I’ll stay here until my champion finds me. Then she
will destroy Delita and we will live in peace, side-by-side.”
“Your champion? Who is that?” Alma asks.
I chuckle. “Oh, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten. Agrias Oaks, of
course!”
I see tears fill Reis’s eyes. Alma’s voice is gentle. “Ovelia, I’m
sorry. Hasn’t anyone told you?”
“You mean the stories people have been spreading about Agrias’s
demise?”
Reis has tears running down her cheeks now, but she doesn’t make a
sound. Alma hugs me again, tightly. “We were there,” she says
mournfully. “Ovelia…Reis and I were instrumental in her funeral
service. We interred her body. It is not healthy to deny it, so
please admit it to yourself. She died courageously.”
“She would have wanted to ensure your safety,” Reis adds, her voice
quavering. “Leave here with us.”
I smile, strong in my belief. “I know that you’d never lie to me.
You truly believe that she’s dead. But I know she isn’t. I am alive.
That means that she is alive. Do you see? I’d die without her, so
she must still live.”
Abruptly, Alma draws back to-what, slap me? Reis catches her wrist.
“That won’t help,” the tall woman says with a sob. “Time is the only
thing that can help her now.”
“She’s right,” I tell Alma. “Time will bring my Agrias. Once she
returns, you’ll hear about it. Don’t be concerned. She’ll come back
to me.”
Reis and Alma leave without me. I don’t know whether they really
understand or not, but I have to be patient. I bide my time for the
next few weeks. Delita returns, looking pleased with himself.
“The Black Sheep Knights have been reorganized. I’ve set them against
the Shrine Knights. No matter who wins, it’ll be entertaining. So
what do you think, my dear Esteemed Highness? The Black Sheep might
just avenge that foolhardy girlfriend of yours.”
“Talk like that while you can, darling Majesty. Agrias will kill you
when she arrives. She’ll be ten times the king you are.”
“They’ll have to dig her up first, you fool! Open your eyes!”
“You don’t get it. She swore. She is a true knight, unlike you; she
will honor her oath. She’ll come back to me.”
It’s been over a year since my champion left. I’m as patient as ever.
Hope and her memory sustain me.
I awaken to a strange sound. I’m kind of bleary, but I look for the
source of the noise. Someone is rapping on my window, in the middle
of the night.
It’s Agrias.
I’m crying so hard that I can’t see, but I feel my way to the window
and throw it open. “Agrias, my love!” I scream.
I feel her voice inside my mind. “Ovelia.”
I freeze. Her tone is melancholy. “Yes,” I whisper, reaching out of
the window into the pale moonlight.
“I had to see you. I made a promise. Now I have kept it. I’m sorry
that it took so long. I didn’t mean to, my dearest Ovelia…but I
died.”
“That doesn’t matter. I love you, my Agrias!” I step up, closer to
her.
“Don’t, Ovelia!” she pleads.
“But it’s my turn to promise you,” I tell her calmly. “I swear to
you, Agrias; we will never be apart again.”
I jump from the windowsill toward her waiting arms.
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