by Robin Roseau
He laughed. “Yes, Darfelsa.”
“Excellent.”
“It’s good to meet the woman who has the town in an uproar,” said Nautila. She was dressed in prim riding clothes with tall boots, and she had what looked like a sharp eye. I felt like she likely saw everything. But we smiled at each other.
“Our twins,” Belolad then said. “Blaze and Flame.”
The two stepped forward. Blaze had short hair and rugged features. But Flame’s hair was long, flowing, and it was absolutely clear how they had gotten their names. I found myself staring, and then Belolad laughed before leaning forward and whispering, “I believe I have my answer.”
“Hush, you,” I replied.
“I’ll be contacting your mother.”
“Excuse me,” I said to everyone else. I took his arm. He was chuckling as I pulled him away. “You told me that’s not what this is about.”
“It’s not,” he said.
“I don’t want that kind of pressure, Belolad. I won’t put up with it.”
“Tell me you weren’t staring.”
“She’s your daughter!”
“So you admit it was Flame who had your attention, and not Blaze.”
“Belolad,” I said warningly.
“What if you like her?” he inserted quickly. “Are you really saying you’re not interested?”
“I’m not here for that!”
“So? Do you want me to send them home?”
“What I want is to be able to actually treat her like a person without parental pressure. Is that asking so much?”
He paused then hung his head. “No.”
“Do you know she prefers women?” I asked. “And are you really anxious to ship her off to Barrish? Because you know I’m not staying here any longer than it takes Father to replace me.”
“Get to know her,” he said. “I’ll back off. Or do you already have your eyes somewhere else. Ms. Leyviel, perhaps?”
“No, I do not have my eyes elsewhere.” I paused. “I did. It ended badly.”
“I’m sorry. How recently?”
“About a month now.”
“Just before you came here?”
“I invited…”
“Her,” he supplied.
“I invited this person to come with us.”
“You invited her to come with you. What story were you going to use?”
“Chaperone.”
He laughed, and loudly. “Were you really?”
“To head off this behavior of yours. She would be quite strict with me, as you can imagine.”
“Finally, a pronoun.”
“You’re enjoying this too much. Do you think you can use this against me somehow?”
“How could I do that?”
“I imagine by making trouble for me back home.”
“I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Princesses are expected to marry princes, not the daughter of a glassmaker.”
“She’s a glassmaker’s daughter?”
“Does that shock you?”
“Surprise,” he said. “So is the glassmaker part that’s a problem, or the daughter part.”
“The daughter part, but possibly also the glassmaker part.”
“Well, Flarvor is backwards in some things, then.”
“In spite of the apparent misogyny here.”
“Which isn’t universal.”
“Until I walked into the council chambers four days ago, there were no women present. You don’t have a single woman on your council. I didn’t see any associate ministers that were women, either.”
“How many women are ministers in Flarvor?”
“Our future monarch is a woman,” I said. “As is her future right hand.”
“You?”
“That’s right.”
“You’ll be good,” he said. “Damned good.”
He caught me with that and smiled. “Give Flame a chance.”
“Stop matchmaking. I don’t like it.”
“Give her a chance.”
“Stay out of it from this moment forward, and I’ll give her a chance. But you truly stay out of it, and tell your wife to stay out of it, too.”
“And you’ll give her a chance.”
“And you’ll tell me why you’re pushing so hard.”
“Oh, please. Isn’t that what every father does? Push their daughters at you?”
“No. It’s usually mothers pushing their sons.”
“How well would Nautila do with that plan?”
“Very, very poorly.”
“Father knows best.”
“Go get on your horse, Belolad.”
“Let Flame ride beside you.”
“She can ride wherever she wants, but I’m not encouraging her.”
Chuckling, he stepped away, gathering the reins for his mount. The others had made their own introductions, but as I headed for my mount, Blaze was there, ready to offer a hand.
“Bad move,” someone muttered from behind us. It might have been Felist but sounded more like Selzen.
But Blaze heard, and he twitched his head, looking, then turning back. “I imagine you don’t need help.”
“I’ve been riding longer than I’ve been walking,” I said. I let him hold my mount’s nose, mounting easily. He handed up the reins. It was only another minute before we were all in our saddles.
We were a much larger troop riding from the embassy than had ridden in.
* * * *
It was a nice day. We received a small tour of Dennaholst as we headed south. I did, indeed, find myself with Flame to my right, Talith to my left, and the rest of our troop clustered around us. Blaze spread his attention between Terla and Selzen. Belolad and Nautila captured Renishta between them. And we had Tess Sessen with us, as well, looking somewhat out of place until Nautila edged her horse over.
It was hard not to stare at Flame. She truly was stunning, and I thought I could run my fingers through her hair for hours. But I was my mother’s daughter, quite capable of sharing my attention amongst my closest companions.
Talith seemed to be shocked and pleased simply to have joined us, and I thought Ms. Sessen felt the same. I heard her laughing nervously more than a time or two.
Finally, I asked, “Flame, I have to ask. Have you ever wanted to enact revenge on your parents?”
“What child doesn’t?” she asked. “Is there a particular reason?”
“The similarity of names.”
“Ah. We received our teasing for that. You don’t think they were fitting choices?”
“I didn’t say that at all. It was just my thought yesterday, when your father told me about you.”
“It was difficult when I was younger, but now I like it.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “This hair has landed me more than my share of attention.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“Oh, perhaps half the time, anyway.” She grinned at me. “I think I’m fine with the current attention.”
“Cute,” I said.
“Like you don’t receive your share of attention, Darfelsa.” She leaned over and set her hand on my arm, just for a moment.
“What do you do?” I asked.
“About attention?”
“For a career.”
“I don’t have a career. I’m an artist.”
I smiled. “What sort of artist?”
“I’m a painter.”
“She’s quite good,” said her brother. “Sis, did you bring a pad?”
“A small one,” Flame admitted. She patted a saddlebag. “If we were to have more time, I would have brought a cart with more supplies. We’re going to one of my favorite places to paint.” She looked over at me. “I’d love to paint you.” She smiled. “Don’t respond to that. You’re a busy woman right now.”
“I think I’d like to watch you sometime.” I gestured. “Do you and Talith know each other?”
“We’ve met before, but I wouldn’t say we know e
ach other,” Flame replied. She leaned forward, looking at Talith now. “I don’t know how you do it.”
“Do what?”
“Work with all those stuffy men.”
“I’m good at my job.”
“I have no doubt, but I wouldn’t want to work there.” She shifted her attention. “Are the ministers in Flarvor all as difficult as my father?”
“Your father has actually been quite reasonable,” I said.
“Only because Talith’s mother let into him,” Flame replied. “They were going to let you run back to Flarvor.”
“No politics!” Belolad called out.
“So you are listening,” Flame observed. “Tell me I’m wrong and I’ll shut up.”
“No politics,” Belolad repeated.
“That’s what I thought,” Flame said. “Is it true you were ready to challenge Minister Silmarion to a duel?” She eyed me. “I don’t see a sword.”
“You perhaps noticed that Sergeant Felist is carrying two.”
“And one is yours?”
“The smaller one,” I replied.
“You’re serious.”
“I’ve taken fencing lessons almost as long as my riding lessons,” I said. “But no, I wouldn’t have challenged your minister.”
“Pity.”
“I wouldn’t have been able to control my temper and would have run him through.”
She laughed. “I can’t tell if you’re serious.”
“Neither can I. I’m fairly certain Sergeant Felist would have wrapped me in a carpet and carried me from the country if I’d tried to engage in a duel.”
“Damned right I would have,” said the woman in question. Flame laughed again.
“So, you answer to the guards?”
“Sergeant Felist has significant authority when it comes to my safety, and I don’t fight her,” I said. “She whoops my ass.”
A third laugh. “I imagine she does.”
“And laughs about it.”
“I don’t laugh,” muttered the sergeant. “Smile, perhaps, but I have never laughed at you, Princess.”
* * * *
It was an easy ride, and then we turned from the main road and passed through a gate into a vineyard. I looked left and right; it was absolutely lovely. “Is this somewhere special?” I asked.
“You’ll probably meet my grandparents,” Flame replied. “If they’re about.”
“Which side?”
“Mother’s parents,” she replied.
“So, yes, this is somewhere special.”
“To me. Blaze and I spent much of our youth here.”
“Learning winemaking?”
“He learned winemaking. I drew. I designed the sign we just passed, though.”
“It was beautiful.”
“Thank you. It’s very simple, but I enjoyed designing it. It took six different designs before I had something the carpenters said they could make. I kept adding too many details.”
I was impressed. Not everyone would have admitted that. In fact, I was simply impressed and quite captivated with Belolad’s daughter, and I was fairly sure she’d figured that out.
We reached the production buildings. There were people about, but they paid little attention to us. Nautila offered a tour, which I found fascinating, and it was at the end of the tour that two elderly people hurried up, moving well in spite of their advanced ages. They greeted Belolad’s family with warmth, and then Nautila introduced her parents to everyone.
“You could have warned us you were coming,” Lark said to her daughter. But she smiled at me and wrapped my arm in hers. “What do you think of our vineyard, Darfelsa?”
“It is quite lovely,” I said.
“You are here for lunch,” she said. “We keep a restaurant. It is quiet today, but we have good food. Come.”
After that, she kept possession of my arm. We finished our tour then found ourselves seated at several tables. It was Firo who ordered a meal for us, to be served family style, and then he hosted a tasting as well.
It really was quite excellent wine, and I told them that.
I got caught in the conversation, learning more about running a vineyard than I’d ever known, and I thanked Lark for the education.
“Oh, dear,” she said, covering her mouth with her hand. “I didn’t mean-”
I pulled her hand away, then held it. “My thanks was not sarcasm. Truly, I appreciate the education. This is the sort of thing I should know about. While you haven’t taught me anything I’ve needed to know in the past, we don’t know what the future will bring.”
“You’re very sweet. But why would you need to understand about vineyards?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “But my father sent me. Who knows where he’ll send me next year?”
“And is your father some sort of trader?”
I stared at her. Around us, everyone else grew quiet. I think it was Blaze who said, “I don’t think anyone shared your title, Darfelsa. We’ve been using first names.”
“Is something wrong?” Lark asked.
I glanced over. Nautila was trying to hide a smile. I waved a finger at her. “No, Lark. My full name is Darfelsa Cinnabar.”
“Like the king of Flarvor.”
“Just so,” I said.
Her eyes narrowed. “And are you related to the Flarvorian king.”
There were snickers around us. “Um. Yes,” I said.
She stared at me, and then she began screeching and throwing things at her daughter. Throwing things! At first, it was a napkin. Then she picked up a glass, but Blaze snatched it from her and said, “Don’t waste the wine!”
“You brought the princess of Flarvor to my vineyard and didn’t warn me!” Lark screeched. A half-eaten dinner roll followed the napkin. Blaze grabbed the silverware, so Lark snatched the napkin from my lap and threw it.
For her part, Nautila simply covered her head with her arms and laughed, which didn’t help Lark’s mood any.
I was too slow, however, and Lark got a hold of a used spoon. It followed the dinner roll. I managed to move everything else I had out of her reach, and Lark was reduced to continued incoherent screeching.
Finally, I grabbed her hands. “Is this a Gandeetian custom, dueling with tableware? I’m not sure it’s one I wish to bring back to Flarvor with me.”
She turned to face me. And then I saw horror cross her face. “No,” she said. “Oh, no.” I think she would have fled, but I kept possession of her hands and smiled.
“Unless the spoon left a divot, I believe perhaps your daughter owes you an apology.”
“I think there’s food in my hair,” Nautila complained. She shook her hair out. “Seriously, Mother.”
“This is an interesting custom, Belolad,” I said. “Would I have had more luck with Minister Silmarion if I had started a food fight?”
“No,” he said with a chuckle. “Blaze, give your grandmother her wine back.”
Blaze set the glass down. Lark looked at it. “That glass was half full!”
“Burp,” Blaze said. “I didn’t want it to go to waste.”
It was Firo who refilled his wife’s glass. I waited until I was reasonably sure she wouldn’t flee before I released her hands. She grabbed her glass and prepared to take a gulp, but that was when habits kicked in and she froze. And then I watched as she calmed herself down and enjoyed a sip of the wine.
Then she turned to me. “I’ve been prattling on to the princess of Flarvor?”
“No,” I said. “You’ve been educating the princess of Flarvor, and she appreciates it.”
“You’re humoring me now.”
“No. Ask your son-in-law if he thinks I speak my mind.”
“I have no doubt you are quite capable with the basic social niceties,” Belolad said, not helping me at all. “But I agree with you. The things Lark has explained are good for you to know, even if neither of us know when it will be useful to you. I wouldn’t suppose we could take a few bottles and find a nice place t
o sit?”
It turned out we could.
* * * *
I sat down next to Flame then tried to peek at her pad. She turned it away from me, but then she flipped back two sheets and let me see.
I tried not to laugh. She had done a good job catching Lark and me. Lark had her hand raised, a dinner roll poised for a toss. I was reaching for her, clearly trying to stop her. “You’re good,” I said. “I’m not sure your grandmother would appreciate it.”
“Are you mad?”
“Why would I be mad? She didn’t throw anything at me.”
“The rest of us figured out she didn’t know who you were long before you did.”
I waved it away. “It’s nothing, but I understand why she might be embarrassed. And here I thought everyone had heard what a stir I’d caused.”
“Not out here,” she explained. “And no one knows about a stir. They know you were at Bashful, though. What did you think?”
“I had an amazing time. Have you been?”
“No, but now I’m thinking I should remedy that. If the princess of Flarvor can be seen there, maybe I can be. And I doubt I get called up on stage.”
“Hide your hair.”
“Oh, I suppose I do announce myself,” she agreed.
I gestured. “Let me see the others.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Hmm.” I eyed her. “We don’t know each other very well.”
“Having only met a few hours ago.”
“So I don’t know if you’re being coy, and want to be cajoled into showing me, or if you really don’t want to show me.” I paused. “I’m quite capable of making a pest of myself, but the last time I did that, my sister and I had a significant fight over it. It definitely damaged our relationship.”
She looked into my eyes, but then she flipped back several sheets, and I found she had drawn me. The next was also me. But then she had one of Sergeant Felist, which I thought was very good and told her that.
“It’s just a sketch,” she said. “Your sergeant is a good subject.” Then she showed me the one she was currently working on, and it was me again. “I’m not pandering to you,” she said quickly. “I just…”
“It’s good,” I said. I handed it back.
“I suppose you’ve been drawn by all sorts of people.”
“My life isn’t half as exotic as people suspect,” I replied. “Mother commissions a family portrait every several years. Ahlianna and I sit for solo portraits every few years, too. If other people draw me, I don’t know it.” I gestured. “Is this what you normally draw?”