Tiara- Part One

by Robin Roseau

  “I understand now.”

  “Daughter, your days in Charth are not without limit.”

  “I know that, Father.”

  “Plan accordingly. I want you to be happy, but you need to think ahead.”

  “I’m trying.”

  He tapped the papers. “I approve of your plans as written. You will not violate the northern border without clear approval.”

  “No approval is identical to disapproval,” I said. “I already told Olivia we wouldn’t cross without permission.”

  “All right. Good.” He collected a file and handed a formal-appearing document to me. Unlike the stack I’d given him, which were paper, this was on parchment. I picked it up and read it. It was, in effect, my authorization to act with the voice of the King of Flarvor while performing my duties in Gandeet. “Do you understand that?”

  “It’s as if I’m you.”

  “That is correct.”

  “And you’re stuck with whatever I do.”

  “Also correct.”

  “You didn’t limit my authority in any way.”

  “No, I did not. Darfelsa, do you understand?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” I said.

  “All right then. Good.”

  “I want two copies.”

  “Two is traditional, anyway.”

  “Then maybe you should explain why two is traditional, because I might want three.”

  “You present one to the Gandeet government. They will probably keep it. You keep the second in case you need it.”

  “Then I want three.”

  “All right.”

  “You’re not going to ask why?”

  “I already know why,” he said. He handed the folder to me. There were two other parchments waiting. I added the first.

  “Is this some test?”

  “It’s an opportunity for you to think,” he said. “Frankly, I’m surprised, Darfelsa.”

  I shrugged. “Will there be more, Father?”

  “You heard what I said about telling your mother your departure date.”

  I smiled. “I did. Over the soup, I think.”

  “Oh, no. She tends to aim at me. It’s quite deliberate.”

  I laughed. “Fine. I’ll find an appropriate moment when any poor reaction is unlikely to soil your clothing.”

  “Thank you.”

  * * * *

  “Darfelsa, darling,” Mother said.

  I turned. On her arm was a young man, perhaps a year or three older than I was. I had no idea who he was, but I was about to find out.

  “Princess Darfelsa,” Mother said. “This is Edrin Semsten. Edrin, this, of course, is my daughter. Edrin is the nephew of Lady Trenton.”

  “My pleasure, Mr. Semsten,” I said, offering my hand. “This is Madam Bessari. Have you met?”

  “We haven’t had the pleasure,” said Edrin, eying Madam Bessari, who was doing a good job of glaring at him. I tried very hard not to smirk. But he took my hand and then seemed reluctant to release it.

  “I thought perhaps Mr. Semsten could keep you company this evening,” Mother suggested.

  “How lovely,” I agreed. “The more the merrier.” I pulled my hand away and wrapped my arm around Madam Bessari’s. “Be a dear, Mr. Semsten.” I held out my glass. “The Yarley, please. And Madam Bessari, what would you like?”

  “I believe a glass of the Yarley would be lovely, Your Highness,” she said.

  “Two Yarleys, Mr. Semsten. There’s a dear.”

  He accepted my glass from me and turned to fulfill his quest. I smiled at Mother, who was glaring at Madam Bessari. “I didn’t know you would be here, Francia,” Mother said. “I’m sure I can ensure my own daughter’s virtue.”

  “You have so much to do, Your Majesty,” Madam Bessari replied. “And it is no trouble. No trouble at all.”

  Mother turned her attention to me. “I should paddle your sister’s bottom.”

  “May I watch when you do?”

  “No.”

  “Mother, I don’t particularly understand this game,” I said. “But I’m not the one who invented it. Nor do I understand why we’re playing. You don’t honestly think I’m going to take a shine to Mr. Semsten, do you?”

  “Of course not. He is simply the opening salvo.”

  “With me? Since when did you begin using expressions of war in talking about your daughters?”

  “Of course, not with you!” she replied. She ducked her head. “My mother.”

  “Seriously? Now we’re at war with Grandma?”

  “Your mother is nearly perfect,” she said. “But mine is not.”

  I laughed. “Madam Bessari, are you aware of this war?”

  “Who do you believe explained it to your older sister?”

  “Do you know my grandmother?” I asked.

  “I certainly do. We went to school together.”

  That was when Mr. Semsten returned, awkwardly carrying four glasses of wine. He passed one each to Madam Bessari and me, then offered Mother her choice of red or white. She took the red. We each sipped, and then I said, “Mother, we’ll have to continue our discussion of Grandmother another time. Mr. Semsten, what do you do?”

  “Do?”

  “Yes. Perhaps you are a cooper?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “No? Do tell.”

  “I’ve been learning to oversee the family holdings.”

  “Ah, of course.” I turned to Mother. Her expression was unfamiliar on her. I could have sworn it was disapproval. I considered, and then realized I was in a petty mood, and it wasn’t the fault of anyone standing here. I gave a little grunt and then said, “One moment, Mr. Semsten. I have another question, but I had a thought, and I don’t want to lose it. Mother, Father approved my plans for my trip to Gandeet.”

  “You’re bringing this up now?”

  “So I don’t suddenly remember over the soup,” I said. She offered a puzzled look. “I am to leave in another eight days.”

  “Eight,” she said.

  “Yes. The eleventh.”

  “I see,” Mother replied. “So soon?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “Perhaps we should discuss this in detail tomorrow.”

  “Of course.” I smiled. “Mr. Semsten, do you dance?”

  “I do, Your Highness.”

  “Good. I do not believe there is dancing tonight, but I imagine there will be at least one evening of dance before my departure. Perhaps you will share a song or two with me.”

  “I’d like that, Your Highness.”

  “Good. Madam Bessari, you are aware I’ve been living in Charth for much of the last three years.”

  “Yes, I know,” she said.

  “And did you know we hold dances quite often?”

  “No, I was not aware. But there are no men to dance with.”

  “No. Only other women. Does that shock you?”

  “Not at all.”

  “And so, at the dance before I leave, when I ask, you would dance with me?”

  “I would be delighted, Darfelsa.”

  “Excellent.”

  * * * *

  Mr. Semsten attempted to be charming. He wasn’t very good at it, and somewhat socially clumsy at that. I wasn’t remotely pleased that Mother saddled me with him, but I was as gracious as I could be, and I offered my hand before he left at the conclusion of the evening.

  And then I saw to Madam Bessari’s departure before climbing to my parent’s chamber. I knocked then waited. It took a moment before Father opened. He was dressed for bed, but he opened the door, and I stepped past him. “Which of us are you here to see?”

  “I think you should stay,” I said. “Mother. Get out here.”

  “Do not use that tone with your mother,” Father said.

  “She might be justified,” Mother said from the doorway to their sleeping chambers. She was tying the belt of her robe.

  “Opening salvo?” I said. “That was an opening salvo?”

  “I tol
d you not to take that tone,” Father said.

  I turned to him. He was glowering at me. “Fine,” I said. “You’re right.” I headed for the door. “I’m too ill for any future social engagements.”

  “Sit. Down.” Father commanded. “Now.”

  I froze. No one spoke, and finally I turned and plopped down in one of the chairs. They sat down opposite me, and then they looked at me. I didn’t say a word, primarily because I was sure I’d use That Tone, and I didn’t think Father would be impressed a third time.

  “What is going on?” he finally asked.

  I looked up at him. Three times I opened my mouth to answer him. Three times I closed it again. “You know,” I said finally. “I don’t know. That’s why I came here tonight. It’s something about Grandmother, and Mother used the phrase ‘opening salvo’ before saddling me with Edrin Semsten all night long.”

  “Which you were clearly prepared for,” he replied.

  “I’m not sure I can talk about this without using That Tone.”

  “Try.”

  I turned my attention to Mother. “If you and Grandmother are at odds, I think it’s reasonable to ask you to either leave me out of it or to tell me enough of what’s going on, so I’m not left in the dark.”

  “There,” Father said. “You see? You can talk about it without That Tone.”

  “Do you think it will last?” I asked him.

  “I guess we’ll see. Well, Ralifta. Our daughter has presented what seems like a fairly reasonable request. I thought this was your game you were playing with Ahlianna, but I didn’t realize That Woman was involved.”

  “I find it interesting,” I said, “that I can’t use that tone, but you can.”

  “I didn’t use that tone.”

  “You did when you mentioned Grandmother.”

  “Oh. Did I really?”

  “Yes, I think you did.”

  He turned to Mother. She said, “A little, but I understand where it’s coming from. But Leander, she’s my mother.”

  “I don’t like the way she treats you,” Father replied.

  “You’re sweet,” Mother said. The two eyed each other for a minute. I said nothing. It’s not like they were going to forget I was there. Finally, together, they turned to me. “Darfelsa, your mother isn’t entirely perfect.”

  “I’m not sure that’s remotely true,” I replied.

  “Your mother’s mother is her great weakness.” She sighed. “You’re right. Leander, if her tone comes back, it’s not her fault.”

  “She can keep a civil tone,” Father said.

  “So, you hold her to a higher standard than you hold yourself?” Mother replied. “Because my parents have certainly brought out That Tone in you with great regularity.”

  “She can use that tone on her grandmother all she wants, but she is not to use it with her mother.”

  At that, Mother snorted. But she turned to me. “Your grandmother has been on my back for some time.”

  “Tell her how long,” Father said.

  “Since the day after your sister was born.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Apparently, I am a failure.”

  “Because you had Ahlianna? Did you have a second head surgically removed?”

  “No. My first born wasn’t a boy.”

  “Neither was your second,” I said coldly. “And you stopped at two.”

  “And there you have the crux of it,” Mother said.

  “She’s been a...” I paused.

  “Harridan?” Father suggested. “Harpy? Witch? Should I keep going?”

  “I don't think I can use those words,” I said. “Because Ahlianna and I aren’t boys?”

  “Not exactly. Because I didn’t provide the future king of Flarvor,” Mother said.

  “No. You provided the future queen, and she’s going to be amazing, too!”

  “Tone,” Father said.

  “That wasn’t directed at Mother,” I said. “And you just told me I could use it about Grandmother. She doesn’t like us because we were born girls?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Mother said. “She loves you.”

  “But she’d love us more if we were boys, Ahlianna especially.” I paused. “First, even if I get married, my husband isn’t the future king, and secondly, Edrin Semsten would be a horrible king.”

  “That idiot?” Father said. “Of course, he would. I believe that’s your mother’s point.”

  “He’s a nice boy,” Mother said, “and the sort of boy who even the most conservative minister wouldn’t rally behind.”

  “Don’t be so sure of that, if they thought they could control him,” Father said.

  “Well, now I’m even more confused,” I said. “Why would Grandmother want you to introduce me to someone like that?”

  “She doesn’t. She wants me to introduce you to her choices.”

  “People she could control.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why does she care who I marry? It’s Ahlianna’s husband who would matter.”

  “Which is why your sister enlisted the aid of Madam Bessari,” Father said. “And I think I’m now at least as confused as you are.”

  “It’s complicated,” Mother admitted. Father and I waited. “My mother has views.”

  “That’s definitely true,” Father said.

  “What kind of views?” I asked.

  “About how a young woman should behave.” Mother paused. “Like I have always behaved.”

  “Mother,” I said gently.

  “Your father and I didn’t raise you like I was raised,” Mother said.

  “Before this goes further, I need to say something,” Father said. “Ralifta, as far as I am concerned your mother did two things very, very well. She raised you to be a warm, loving, wonderful person. And she convinced you to marry me. I also imagine she taught you how to acquire my attention and how to keep it, long enough for me to realize how much I love you.”

  Mother dropped her gaze. Finally, she looked at me. “I married your father because Mother told me to.”

  “He was the future king.”

  “I rather expected he would treat me differently than he has.”

  “Oh,” I said, now understanding at least that much.

  “We didn’t know each other very well,” she explained. She offered a smile. “Your father has always treated me absolutely perfectly. From the day we met, he has treated me perfectly. He knows I worried at first, and he understands why, but my worries were never, ever because of anything he has ever done.”

  “It’s because of the former king and queen.”

  “That’s all I ever knew. I thought that was how kings and queens treated each other. I thought I’d have to accept it.”

  Father’s lips tightened, but he didn’t comment.

  “I think I understand this part. I don’t understand what’s going on now.”

  “Grandmother assumes you and your sister will be just as obedient to your father as I was to her.”

  I laughed. Loudly. They didn’t chastise me for it. But then I sobered. No one spoke. “If Father orders me to marry someone, I’d have to. I would be every bit as obedient.”

  “But only because he is king,” Mother said. “But that has been one of our agreements. We are free to introduce you to anyone we want, but he promised me he will never make either of you marry against your will. He won’t make that order.”

  “Then I’m still confused.”

  “Mother wants to pick your husbands,” Mother explained.

  “So Edrin Semsten is one of her choices?”

  “Oh, no,” Mother said. “Edrin Semsten is how I keep the fox out of the hen house.”

  “Still lost.”

  “I can’t introduce you to her choices if I’ve already promised to introduce you to Lady Trenton’s nephew. And it wouldn’t hurt if I didn’t have to go through boy after boy because they each figure out how uninterested you are.”

  “So I’m supposed to pretend? Ho
w conniving, Mother.”

  “Tone,” Father said. “Although she has a point, Ralifta.”

  “I didn’t say my plan was perfect,” Mother said. “But I could step aside and let you both deal with her directly.”

  “I think I prefer your plan,” Father said quickly.

  “Father!” I complained. He snorted at me.

  “Are you sure?” Mother asked. “You can interview the boys she puts forward, and no, you can’t toss them out the tower window afterwards.”

  “It’s my life,” I said. “We’re all agreed?”

  “Yes,” she said. “It’s your life.”

  “Other than I’m not interested, what’s wrong with these boys?”

  “They have one goal,” Mother replied. “To put a ring on your finger.”

  “This is going to sound vain, but don’t you think Edrin Semsten was wondering about that for himself?” I asked.

  “Oh, he might have been,” she said. “But he’s not a sneaky, obsequious, conniving…” She trailed off. “Darfelsa, he’s a nice boy.”

  “So, I should show interest in him because he’s a nice boy?”

  “Tell me what’s wrong with him.”

  “All right,” I said. “I will. He’s a boy.”

  It was her turn to snort. “Keep going.”

  “Let me ask you something,” I said, when I couldn’t list anything in particular. “Was father like that?”

  “Absolutely not,” she said. “He was destined to be king.”

  “And he knew it?”

  “He was a little arrogant.”

  “Don’t let her kid you. I was a lot arrogant,” Father clarified. “That may have been my worst flaw.”

  “All right,” I said. “I’m seeing this nearly 25 years later. But to me, Father is intelligent, thoughtful, and a good listener. He is commanding when necessary and respectful of those around him. He values the opinions of those with a considered view but has little time for those who blurt from ignorance. Would that be how you would have described him 25 years ago, Mother?”

  “Probably not, but only because I wouldn’t have thought in those terms. But yes, perhaps that is fair.”

  “I’m fairly certain I can’t say all that about Edrin Semsten.”