Elara Thornveil's Arc

Chapter 5 of 6

The food was spread, the hall was bright, but the noise outside grew louder. Elara stepped to the window. A crowd pressed at the gates. Strangers in travel-worn cloaks, farmers with children, peddlers with carts. Word of the fairy had pulled them all here. More kept coming up the path. Her heart pounded. She had planned for royal guests, not a flood of travelers she had never invited. "There are too many," Celestia said. "The hall cannot hold them all." Elara twisted her hands. Her gown felt tight. If she turned them away, they would call her cold. If she let them in, the crowd would trample her careful court. Either choice could ruin her name. A sleek blue gown cut through the crowd at the gate. Queen Cordelia Ashworth. She had visited once before, unannounced, and sent the report that started all this. Her crown caught the light. Behind her came Lady Ashmont, silver-haired, gloved hands folded, the guest Elara had served an apple at the shop. Both women stared at the mob of commoners. Cordelia's mouth went thin with shock. "This is your court?" Cordelia said. Her voice carried over the noise. "A rabble at the gate?" Elara's throat went dry. One wrong move, and Cordelia would put her kingdom on blast. The travelers watched her too. They wanted in. They wanted food. They wanted the sweet queen the stories promised. Elara took a breath. She made her choice. "Open the gates," she said. Celestia froze. "All of them?" "All of them." Elara lifted her chin. "A queen who feeds only crowns is not sweet. She is just another snob." She walked out to the gate herself. The crowd hushed. She smiled at a tired mother, then a dusty farmer. "You came far," she said. "Come in. There is bread and fruit for everyone." The travelers flooded past her into the garden. Elara did not send them to the fine hall. She led them to the plumeria gardens, where there was room beneath the open sky. She waved servants to carry the loaded basket out. Tomatoes, grapes, warm loaves passed from hand to hand. Children laughed among the purple blooms. Cordelia watched, stiff. Lady Ashmont touched the queen's arm. "A ruler who turns no one away," Lady Ashmont murmured. "That is rare." Cordelia said nothing, but her thin mouth eased. By dusk, every traveler had eaten. The gardens glowed with happy voices. Elara had not ruined her name. She had made it larger than one hall. But as the last cart rolled through the gate, she saw the problem she had made. The food was gone. The basket was empty. And a new crowd was already climbing the path, drawn by travelers who swore the sweet queen fed anyone who came.