by Robin Roseau
“Ah, of course,” said Mr. Epseen. “Ms. Leyviel, how good to see you.”
He stepped forward, but it wasn’t to the younger woman. The elder offered her hand. Mr. Epseen gave the back a kiss, and then did the same to the younger Ms. Leyviel before turning. “Her Royal Highness, Princess Darfelsa Cinnabar of Flarvor, Envoy to Gandeet for her Father, King Leander.” He changed his tone, speaking somewhat sotto voce. “You do not curtsey.” He turned to me. “Your Highness, may I present Ms. Castia Leyviel?”
“Thank you, Mr. Epseen,” I said. I stepped forward, offering a hand. “Ms. Leyviel, welcome.”
“Welcome to Dennaholst, Your Highness.” We exchanged a simple handclasp. “I believe you have met my daughter, Talith.”
“I have, briefly,” I agreed. We clasped for a moment. “Is this a social visit?”
“It is,” said Castia.
“Well then.” I gestured. “Perhaps we could sit. Thank you, Mr. Epseen.”
“Of course, Your Highness.”
“I’ll bring tea,” offered Renishta.
They both slipped from the room, and we took seats. I offered a smile. “Thank you for coming.”
“Of course,” said Castia. Her smile faltered. “I must admit to something.”
“Oh? And we have barely met.”
“I do not know how to address you.”
“Ah,” I said. “How did you address Lord Marlish?”
“Socially, he was Arbane.”
“Ah,” I repeated. “Well, there isn’t a simple answer. If we are being formal, then it is appropriate to use my title. I can be called Princess, or Princess Darfelsa, which is more likely if my sister is also present. Your Highness is also appropriate, when speaking formally. In social settings, I am simply Darfelsa.” I paused only a moment. “I imagine that is strange to you.”
“It is,” she agreed. “This is a social call. Does that mean I call you Darfelsa?”
“That would be appropriate, if I am to call you Castia and Talith.”
She smiled. “Well then, Darfelsa. All of Dennaholst is abuzz with your arrival. No one can remember the last time we had nobility in our town.”
“Actually, you can. Lord Marlish is a member of the nobility. I am a member of royalty.”
“Oh,” she said, covering her mouth with her fingers. “Is there a difference?”
“There is,” I said. “The nobility covers anyone with a title such as Lord or Lady. Royalty would be members of the royal family. Some would include anyone in line to the throne, which could include my father’s cousins, but normally we would only mean my father’s immediate family. It gets murky as you travel further from the line of succession. I will remain royalty even once my sister becomes queen and produces children, but it would be either Father’s or Ahlianna’s decision whether to include my children in such a designation. It is somewhat subjective, and other countries may have other attitudes. So Dennaholst is frequently host to Flarvorian nobility, but I am the first member of the royal family to visit in at least two generations.”
“It’s all a little confusing,” she said. I didn’t think it was that confusing, and didn’t think she really thought so, either.
“I’m not going to be offended if someone doesn’t know our ways, as long as I am treated politely by local standards,” I replied with a smile. “It’s quite fine, Castia.”
That was when Renishta knocked, then entered, pushing the tea cart. There must have been water waiting. She pushed the cart fully into the room then poured and served. “Do you require me, Your Highness?”
“No, thank you, Ms. Pelonden,” I replied.
“Very good.”
She turned around and pulled the door closed again. Both my guests watched this. “She didn’t curtsey,” Castia observed.
“That is something that varies dramatically,” I replied. “You can judge how insecure a woman is by how frequently her staff curtsey to her. In formal settings, bows, curtsies, and kneeling are considered appropriate, but at some point, it transitions from a symbol of respect to one of obsequiousness.”
We sipped from our tea, and I waited to see what they would say. But Castia looked at me, and Talith studied her tea, and so finally I asked, “Is it an accident that Talith and I met in Minister Silmarion’s office, and now the two of you are here?”
“I wouldn’t say ‘accident’. I would suggest that the one made me sufficiently brave to be the first to call upon you. I am the first, am I not?”
“You are,” I said.
“No one is quite sure how to treat you.”
“Everyone is afraid she must prostrate herself?”
“Well, perhaps, but that isn’t quite what I meant.”
“Perhaps you could do me the honor of simply speaking, Castia. I won’t be offended unless offense is intended.”
“Socially, Darfelsa,” she replied.
“Mother doesn’t know if she should invite you to dinner,” Talith translated. “Or if you would be offended if it isn’t a grand affair.”
“That’s not…” Castia broke off. “I suppose that is what I’m trying to say.”
“Well,” I said. “This isn’t hard, although it’s not entirely simple, either. I came to do a job, and of course, that comes first. I don’t know how full my social calendar might become, but I would never be offended at any invitation offered in friendship. I may not accept every invitation that were to arrive.” I paused. “You must understand, however, that my father has been quite clear about something. Sergeant Felist and a team of her guards accompany me anywhere I go. An invitation to me is for not only me, but at the very least four guards, and if it is to be a significant event, probably more than four. They won’t sit to table, but they’ll keep me in their sight, and I don’t argue with them if they grow uncomfortable.”
“How…”
“Dreary,” I supplied. “No offense is intended, but I imagine in some quarters, some would be offended.”
“It won’t be taken ill in my home,” Castia said. “Do your soldiers have particular needs?”
“They will generally see to meals ahead of time,” I replied. “And they’ll want to know the size of the event. If you are inviting anyone from other nations, they will most certainly want to know that ahead of time. For a sufficiently large event, they would prefer to review the venue ahead of time. Otherwise, you can pretend they aren’t even there. I may introduce Sergeant Felist herself, but it is unusual to make introductions more widely than that.”
“So in a way, they are treated like servants.”
“In a way, but servants who don’t take orders from me. Or you.”
“I believe I understand. No one wants to harm you, Darfelsa.”
“Then I haven’t been sufficiently stirring things up,” I said with a smile.
She paused. “I believe you may be serious.”
“There are always people with a vested interest in maintaining the status quo,” I explained. “And others with an interest in disrupting it.”
“And which do you represent?”
“I wish peace and prosperity for both our countries,” I replied.
“Isn’t that what everyone wants?” she asked.
“Your daughter can answer that as well as I can,” I said. “What do you think, Talith?”
“I think, Darfelsa,” said the woman, speaking for the first time since greetings were exchanged, “that peace and prosperity for both nations aren’t necessarily the goals of everyone on either side of our border.”
Her mother looked at her. “I don’t think I understand.” I was actually surprised she would admit it.
“Some people view chaos as an opportunity,” Talith said. “And there are those who wish prosperity for themselves and find special joy when it comes at someone else’s disadvantage. And, of course, there are different attitudes in Barrish than there are here.” She looked me in the eye. “Do you bring those attitudes with you?”
“Of course I do,” I replied. “But
this is beginning to stray away from a social visit.” I shifted my gaze, focusing on Ms. Leyviel the elder. “If I receive invitations, I will accept them based on managing a social schedule.”
“Are we your first visitors?” she asked.
“You are.”
She smiled broadly. “And if invitations are delivered verbally?”
“Most shocking,” I said with a smile. “Imagine, taking the time to deliver a verbal invitation. That isn’t at all done.” I gave a little laugh. “I should ask if that would that offend anyone here.”
“Probably someone,” she said with her own smile. “That was sarcasm?”
“Yes, that was definitely sarcasm.”
“And so, I could safely offer an invitation to my home, two evenings from tonight. Is that too soon?”
“Not at all, Castia,” I said. “Is this a large event?”
“No, no,” she said. “Well, some might consider a dozen large.”
“Mother, you need to ask her the other part.”
“Oh, yes.”
But then she didn’t ask. I waited, then laughed. “Talith, I believe your mother hopes you will ask this time.”
“It is only for a seating count,” Talith said.
“You wish to know if I would interpret such an invitation as to bring someone to accompany me?”
“Yes,” Talith confirmed. “No one knows if you have a special companion in your company.”
“No,” I said. I think I kept the pain from my face. “No special companions. I do not know how things sit here. In Charth, where I was last posted, a portion of the invitations received by either myself or Lady Ambassador Cuprite included invitations for the entire embassy. I imagine that would be far less common here, but I hope the occasional invitation allows me to bring three or four others here.”
“Mr. Epseen?” Talith asked.
“No, actually,” I said. “I imagine Mr. Epseen manages to fend for himself. You met one such person, Ms. Pelonden. There are two other members of the foreign service who I might invite, and then it can branch from there.” I smiled. “If you ever wish us to entirely unbalance your gender ratio, I am the woman to help.”
They both laughed lightly. “I’ll keep that in mind,” Castia said. “Darfelsa, are you suggesting I should engage in matchmaking?”
I let a look of utter horror cross my face. “Most definitely not.”
Castia laughed. “My daughter puts on that expression for me when I suggest it is time for her to marry.”
“It is most definitely not time for me to marry,” I proclaimed. “But I could see how it might be for Talith.”
Castia snorted. Talith put on a glare for me, but it was in fun. “Mother,” she then said. “Attire.”
“What would I do without you?” Castia asked. “I’ll only be in an evening gown.”
“I would love to come,” I said. “You can leave the details with Ms. Pelonden before you go.
“Most excellent,” she declared. “Then we won’t keep you.”
We all stood, and I led them to the outer office. They left the details, and then two of the embassy guards escorted them away. Ms. Pelonden stepped to my side. “Your first invitation.”
“Just so,” I agreed.
* * * *
In the intervening two days, I received no further visitors or correspondence. I did begin to cautiously travel about the city, visiting the markets. I didn’t want to draw attention to myself, and so Sergeant Felist dressed me as one of the guards, and we went as six. We still drew attention, but I didn’t draw more than my share. They called me “Cinna”.
For dinner, I dressed in a lovely, calf-length dress in shimmering violet. I wore my hair in an asymmetrical plait, hanging down the front of my left shoulder. I thought it was a simple, elegant look.
Sergeant Felist sent two guards ahead to reconnoiter the venue. I didn’t worry about that, and soon I found myself in our carriage, Sergeant Felist seated opposite me. “Is this difficult for you?” I asked her.
“Sitting in a carriage with you?”
I smiled. “Is that really what you think I was asking?”
“I will admit I’d rather you were safely home at the palace,” she replied. “But clearly that isn’t practical. I think…” She trailed off. I waited while she gathered her thoughts. “I think, Your Highness, that I am quite pleased to see the path you’re on.”
I couldn’t help but smile again. “Oh?”
“Do you know what I mean?”
“I’m not sure.”
“There’s an image people have.”
“Of me?”
“Of you, your sister, royalty in general. You and Ahlianna are breaking that image. And I like it. Your Highness, I am pleased and honored to be here with you.”
“I am pleased you’re here as well, Mariya. Thank you for seeing to me.”
“You’re welcome. To answer your question, I wouldn’t say difficult. We need to remain alert for a few hours. A situation can go from utterly peaceful to a disaster in moments.” She paused. “Darfelsa. Eventually, somewhere, someday…”
“I know,” I said. “Someone is going to make an attempt. I know. No king is loved by everyone, and there are always forces that would profit from chaos. Keep training me, Mariya.”
She nodded. “I will.”
* * * *
It wasn’t a long ride, not even ten minutes. We pulled up in front of a house, not even as large as the embassy in Charth, on a street with similarly sized homes. There was no drive from the street, simply a pedestrian gate and a walk to the front steps.
But it was an attractive house, appearing well-kept.
I strode forward. There were two servants waiting outside the door. They clearly knew who I was; they had to, my guards a clue, two of them waiting to the side as well. But I presented myself to the servant on the right. “I am Darfelsa Cinnabar.”
“Your Highness,” she replied. “You are expected.” They stepped aside with a gesture, and we filed into the house.
It was, well, it was a house. We entered via a foyer, and there was a lovely staircase ahead of us, with open doorways left, right, and straight ahead. No one greeted us in the foyer, but there was talking coming from the right, and so we turned.
The open doorway didn’t lead to a corridor; it was a large parlor, and there were six or seven people already present. As we entered, they all turned to face us. The guards distributed themselves about, and for the rest of the evening, understand simply that they were present, some close, some less obtrusive. But I focused on our host.
I strode forward. Castia was waiting, a man at her side. I offered my hands as I approached, and we clasped. She smiled, then pulled my hands further apart. “You look quite lovely, Darfelsa. Welcome to my home.”
“Thank you for inviting me, Castia,” I replied. “It is a lovely home.”
She released my hands and offered a gesture. “This is my husband, Danyll Leyviel.”
“Mr. Leyviel,” I offered. “My greetings.” I offered a hand. “Call me Darfelsa.”
“Then you should call me Danyll,” he replied. He was not a large man, but his voice was low, with a rumble, and his eyes bright. We clasped, and he offered an appraising look, but not such a look his wife should have objected.
But then he said nothing further, and it was Castia who said, “Danyll is a dear. He is most comfortable in his offices, however.”
“Ah. And what do you do, Danyll?”
“It is dreadfully dull,” he replied. “I watch trends.”
“Trends?”
“I work for an import/export business,” he explained. “I watch trends.”
“Ah, in order to assist in knowing what would be most profitable?”
“Yes,” he confirmed.
“He’s quite brilliant,” Castia said. “He started with nothing.”
“We started with nothing,” Danyll said, gazing fondly at his wife and taking her hand. “Castia trusted I would take care of he
r when few others had such faith in me.”
I wasn’t sure if they were putting on an act, or if their affection was honest, but the look they gave each other was adoring.
But then Castia introduced me to the others: several friends and her sister, Mealonnieh. I exchanged simple greetings, and it was during the resulting small talk that Talith entered the room, an attractive man on her arm. The two were smiling at each other, and I wondered if wedding bells were due.
They saw me and stepped over, Talith offering greetings. “This is Garnier,” Talith said in introduction.
“My pleasure,” I offered. “The two of you look quite good together.”
They offered brief grins, and then Garnier said, “We’ve known each other our entire lives.”
“That isn’t entirely accurate,” Talith said. “As I am a year older, and so I have known you your entire life.”
I was on the edge of saying something that would have been entirely awkward, but Castia and Mealonniah stepped over. Castia offered a warm greeting to Garnier and then said, “Darfelsa, I see you have met my nephew. Garnier, the princess requires an escort tonight. Be a dear.”
Oh, she didn’t! Well, apparently, she did.
“Of course, Aunt Castia,” the man replied, stepping away from his cousin and to my side. Talith offered me a huge, knowing grin, but then Castia took her arm and said, “Talith, there’s someone you haven’t met.” We turned, and the last of her guests had arrived, and amongst them was a man near Talith’s age.
It was my turn to offer a grin as Castia introduced her daughter, and then I saw Talith’s arm claimed. The man seemed far happier about it than the woman, but she smiled graciously.
“I’ve never met a princess,” Garnier said to me.
“Am I a disappointment?” I asked.
“I can’t imagine very many people find you a disappointment,” he replied. “Do I really call you by your name?”
“Was there something else you preferred?” I offered a smile. “This is a social setting. We can be formal if you want, but it grows dreary and is entirely unnecessary.”
“I wasn’t going to come tonight,” he said.
“You and your cousin seem quite comfortable together.”
“We are, but my aunt’s favorite pastime is matchmaking.”