


The Heir of Attolia

by Annalibelle



Category: Queen's Thief series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-12-29
Updated: 2010-12-29
Packaged: 2014-09-10 00:56:49
Rating: K+
Chapters: 1
Words: 590
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6603387/1/
Author URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/2631400/Annalibelle
Summary: It's not about the heir him/herself...yet. Rather, it's making the heir.  But not in that way!





	The Heir of Attolia

"They say I'm getting old," said Attolia as she sat unnaturally still. Not that sitting down meant anything; it was just her habit to sit, she found solace in stillness. There was even a joke that went, "Attolia sits when sad, sits when mad, rises up to strike, and sits to rejoice."

Eugenides, the goat-foot Attolis, struggled not to pace in anger. He would kill the foolish gossip mongers, but even a thief could not track down something so insubstantial as rumors.  
"You can't be old. My father is old. Old people have grey hair and dress in black. You don't have a single grey hair and you aren't wearing black. So you can't be old." He said in a matter of fact way, like a small child.

She regarded her hair, unbraided and flowing in a stream of light amber. She picked at it and conceded that he was right on one minor part.

"Gen, I'm thirty. I have joints that ache. Perhaps I am old."

"We all ache somewhere." The king replied, glancing at his right forearm. While his phantom hand pains had been mended by the goddess, the joint where his hook attached always ached from the tightness if the cuff. Attolia tracked the movements of his eyes and a fleeting emotion passed over her face before she caught it and sealed it behind her impassive mask. Eugenides caught her eye and held her gaze for a long while. Even the Queen of Attolia could not fool the King of Attolia. Then he relented; they had long resolved this topic, or had at least put it past them. In truth, bringing it up again hurt no more than prodding a long healed scar.  
Irene broke the pensive silence.

"Just two winters ago your feet were still growing. You are years younger than Eddis who is years younger than me. Perhaps the fishwives are right; I'm too old to bear an heir." She spoke this with bitterness. Eddis and Sounis were married not even a year ago, and had already welcomed a daughter. Berenike she was called, meaning 'bringer of victory'. A rather bold name in such volatile times.

"My dear, I can't remember whether it was you or I who first said, 'Where there is life there is hope, Your Majesty'?" asked Eugenides lightly.  
"It must have been you, seeing as you were not a king at the time."  
"Very well then, let us continue hoping." Taking her hand in his, Eugenides scooped his queen up and carried her into the bedchamber.

…

The morning sun shone through the carved foot board of the king's bed. It was strangely small and inscribed with a scene of Eddis's Hesphestal Mountains. It was a perfect copy of the bed in Eddis's library. Attolia could be very, very thorough at times.  
"I seem to be getting in the habit of being abducted by you," Attolia murmured sleepily; a slight smile played on her lips.

"Well, you seem to enjoy it," the king replied in a voice husky with his Eddisian accent. "I must go and deal with my attendants now. It's as thankless as wrangling cats."

"You seemed fond enough of that Ion."

"What can I say? I have an especial fondness for fools. I feel a kinship with them."

"Go then my fool. I will see you at breakfast."

And then he kissed her, not in a proprietary, public way, but as a man kisses his wife.

…


End file.
