"So, as the Bard said, 'A horse, a horse! My kingdom for a horse!'" The Rigan raised her eyebrows. "Samara Glass, you presume much to offer this trade."
"Sam, if you please, Your Highness," the girl shifted slightly in her seat.
The Rigan’s laughter echoed around the chamber. "Again, you presume. That may someday be your downfall, my dear child."
"Your Highness, may we focus on the topic at hand, rather than my presumptuous nature?" Sam knew that she should not speak to the Rigan in this manner, but time was running short.
"Yes, naturally," the Rigan lifted her chalice and took a sip of it. "You have proposed a trade, my title and status for a horse. Apple cider, dear?"
"No, thank you, Your Highness. And you forget that this is a talking horse, the only one of its breed left. I am the only one who may divulge his location," Sam added, leaning forward.
"You believe that you may trade with me, that you may inherit my position as Rigan, in exchange for a talking horse?"
"Your Highness, this horse is all-knowing and wise. He has told me that he is willing to impart his knowledge and wisdom upon you, if you so wish. He yearns for an intellectual companion who has a thirst for learning. He grows weary of vapid conversation. He knows that you may offer discussion with more, as he said, spark to it."
“Even children know that the talking horses are no more than the stuff of myths,” said the Rigan. “Do you expect me to accept these facts as true?”
“Yes.” Sam pulled out a locket from the folds of her cape and held it out for the Rigan to see. "And we both know that you have no right to your title. My father reigned over this land as the Ri before you dethroned him and seized his power. His power, unrightfully taken by you, remains unstable unless you hand it over to me. If we remain much longer in this world without correcting the imbalance of power, we both know what will happen."
The Rigan drank again from her chalice, fixing her gaze upon the locket. "You imply that there are but two solutions for me. I must either accept this exchange, or leave this world for our own.” She stood and strode towards the window in the chamber. “Either way, I must surrender my throne to the noble and most ancient house of Glass.” Sam could nearly feel the venom that the Rigan injected into the last sentence.
“Be thankful that I give you a choice, Your Highness.” Sam tucked the locket back into her cape.
Samara Glass is a character I have wanted to start developing for a while. For now, this is untitled.
~ Amalia
"We are each of us angels with only one wing, and we can only fly embracing each another." ~ Luciano De Crescenzo
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