Tiara- Part One

by Robin Roseau

“I can’t do that.”

  “You can give me this one for some fun in bed,” she said, dragging Renishta to her. “And you can give me that one.” She pointed at Talith. “She has a proper accent. Talith Leyviel, do you support my campaign?”

  “Wholeheartedly. Darfelsa, may I help her?”

  “Yes. Renishta, you can’t do so much as light a candle used to seal a letter. You can’t bring a cup of tea, not to anyone actively working on the campaign. And your accent can’t be heard.”

  “I’ll sneak her out and give her back to you in the morning,” Alexi said. “Salle can collect her for me again tomorrow evening.”

  “All right.”

  “Oh, I’m so happy you’re here, Darfelsa. So happy.” She gestured at Flame. “You know, you can help.” But then she looked back at me. “I suppose.”

  I turned to Flame. “Do you want to help?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Come back with Salle, then,” Alexi said.

  * * * *

  In the morning, Renishta looked quite bed-tossed, but she had the happy grin of someone well-satisfied.

  Marcastie was a farmer. I admitted to never helping on a farm then asked her to put me to work. “I’m not putting a princess to work.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you don’t know anything.”

  “Teach me to milk a cow or something.”

  “Have you ever even touched a cow?”

  “Of course, I have,” I said. I smiled. “It was cooked, done just right, with a nice garlic horseradish glaze.” She laughed, but I said, “I’m serious. There must be something you can do with me.”

  “Nothing your lady wouldn’t mind. She seems quite territorial.”

  “Marcastie, seriously.”

  She smiled. “This isn’t a cattle farm. We have sheep. Think you can ride?”

  “I ride just fine.”

  “You hurried here from Dennaholst.”

  “I wouldn’t mind giving our mounts a rest,” I said. “Do you have mounts?”

  “I have mounts,” she said. “And you have your own tack.”

  “That I do.”

  “How about the rest of them? They look soft.”

  “They’re going to relax. They’ve more than earned it.”

  “There’s a lake,” she said. “It’s cold, but there’s nothing nasty growing in it, and the water is clear and healthy.”

  Marcastie, myself, half the guards, and two of her hands spent the day, “Riding the fence.” Mostly I was there for company. But there were a few times they were happy to have extra hands, and once we helped deal with escaping sheep, herding them back onto Marcastie’s land.

  “Why didn’t they roam further?”

  “They would have, but this was a new break,” she explained.

  Flame was gone all day, and when Salle brought her back and collected Renishta, Flame was exhausted. “That woman never stops. Take me to bed.”

  I pampered her, eventually making gentle love to her. She fell asleep, but I lay awake for a while, holding her. Eventually I leaned closer, kissed her shoulder, and whispered, “I love you, Flame Githien.”

  It was the first time I’d said it, and I did it while she was sleeping.

  Except she murmured, “I love you, too.”

  * * * *

  Election day arrived. Salle and Alexi came together, Renishta with them, and from the amount of food Marcastie had us make, I think they were expected. “Election day,” Alexi said. “Win or lose, campaigning is over. I’m going to hide here today. We brought supplies for a picnic. Later, we’ll go to campaign headquarters. Win or lose, we’re having a party.” She focused on me. “You’re coming.”

  “I brought exactly one gown, but if that’s too much-”

  “Gowns,” Salle announced. “I bought a new one. If she wins, there’s a ceremony in Dennaholst.”

  “How soon?”

  “One month.”

  “Oh. I can’t stay that long. I’m sorry.”

  “You’re here now, Darfelsa,” Alexi said.

  And so, we had an easy day. Everyone was nervous. Marcastie left to vote. Alexi and Salle had done so on the way to meet with us. But we had a picnic and talked about easy things.

  “I’ve never watched an election,” I said at one point. “When will you know the results?”

  “What?” Salle asked.

  “It’s not like we elect the next princess,” I added.

  “What about… everyone else.”

  “Lord this and Lady that?”

  “Oh.”

  “Father’s ministers make recommendations, and he might hold an informal vote, but I don’t think that’s how this works.”

  “The polls are open until late afternoon,” Salle explained. “There are six voting areas, and they’ll bring their boxes to the county courthouse. They’ll arrive by six, except for division four, which is isolated. They’ll be late. There will be a counting. All the candidates for any office attend, as well as any observers any major candidate requests.”

  “Princess Darfelsa,” Alexi said. “I have set forth your name as an observer.”

  “That, I think I can do,” I said. “Did I replace someone?”

  “Me,” Salle said. “But she asked me first. This is better.”

  “Good.”

  “Campaign headquarters are on my estate,” Alexi said. “We’ll have a party, win or lose.”

  “With dancing,” Flame said.

  * * * *

  Mid-afternoon, we left the picnic, traveling first to Marcastie’s home to pick up my things. We dressed at Alexi’s house, and then took her coach to the courthouse.

  There was a significant audience standing outside. Alexi headed over to say ‘hello’, but Salle got me into the courthouse without anyone paying particular notice of either of us.

  Minister Silmarion was there. He didn’t notice me right away, but I knew that wouldn’t last. “Keep that man away from me,” I whispered to Sergeant Felist. “If he wins, I will offer him a polite congratulations, but otherwise, I’m hiding behind you.”

  “Yes, Princess. I agree.”

  It actually took ten minutes before the minister stormed over, bellowing. “What is that spoiled brat doing here?”

  Mariya had guards waiting, and they stepped into place, hands on their swords. And that was when I realized she had my sword slung over her shoulder. I could draw it any time I wanted. “That’s a bit much,” I whispered. Then I looked past her. “Ah, Minister. I am to help observe the count. I was quite curious. You once told me what a horrid system we have in Flarvor, so I came here to see if yours was any better.”

  He didn’t say another word but stormed away again.

  Alexi arrived, and then a small man with nervous energy strode over. “Ms. Chante, if you have your observer, we are ready to begin the count.”

  “This is my observer,” she said, gesturing to me. “Princess Darfelsa, Mr. Thorian Dewcliff, chief clerk.”

  “My pleasure, Mr. Dewcliff,” I said. “I’ve never done this before. Do I have duties?”

  “You do,” he said. “Come with me, and I will show you.”

  I wasn’t just there to observe the count. Every ballot passed through my hands. I made marks for each name on the ballot, including the greater and lesser elections, and then passed the ballot back to Mr. Dewcliff. He gave the same ballot in turn to the other two observers, one for Minister Silmarion and one for Mr. Greentome, the other candidate for minister. At the end of each stack, we compared counts. Twice, there were differences, which meant we counted that stack a second time. One of the mistakes was mine; one was not. No one chastised us.

  It wasn’t possible for me to keep the total. I was actually kept too busy handling ballot after ballot, and I would have been completely lost if Mr. Dewcliff hadn’t been so efficient.

  But they kept me supplied with tea, and I worked as quickly as I could.

  At the end of each stack, the tally sheets took four si
gnatures: Mine, Mr. Dewcliff’s, and the other observers. And then we started a new sheet for the next stack.

  Finally, we finished. I had no idea who was ahead, none at all. But Mr. Dewcliff collected each of the stacks. For this part, they had sheets prepared with names across the top and polling bunches numbered. Mr. Dewcliff read out the number and the counts. The observers wrote down the counts, and then we alternated reading them back, me reading one set, and then the next observer for the next set. And then Mr. Dewcliff showed each of us the stack, with our signatures, to verify.

  It all took time, but I was convinced we had an accurate count. I couldn’t have said if everyone’s ballots had arrived without hindrance, but we had an accurate count of the ballots before us.

  We totaled the numbers. I sat numbly. Mr. Dewcliff quietly checked each set of figures, identified two discrepancies, and so he discovered the cause of the errors, this time neither of them mine.

  And then he whispered to me, “It is tradition for you to read the results.”

  “Why me.”

  “The moment you stand up, they’re going to know the results, but they’ll listen politely.”

  “Do I read the numbers or just announce winners?”

  “We’ll post it, so it’s up to you.”

  I nodded. I think the fact that he’d talked to me had already announced the important part, but there was a complete hush when I stood.

  “As I understand it, there were elections for four local council positions,” I said. “I don’t know what some of these other positions are. Let’s start with the easiest: county assessor. You ran unopposed. Congratulations, Mr. Delda.” There was a little cheering. “I want to add this. Not everyone voted for Mr. Delda. There were seventeen ballots marked ‘someone less honest’.”

  They laughed at that.

  “It seems to have been an unsuccessful write-in campaign.” I’d learned that phrase earlier.

  I read the rest of the results. There was time for brief congratulations after each. One of the local council winners was a woman, the only one on the ballot, and she lavishly passed out hugs, including me. She was a bear of a woman, but from what I could tell, deeply popular. The margin wasn’t large, but her two opponents congratulated her and received their own hugs.

  I got to the last three names. “For the position of Minister, the seat currently held by Mr. Silmarion. congratulations, Minister Chante.”

  She started crying. Salle cried. I cried. I didn’t think we were the only ones.

  Mr. Greentome was exceedingly gracious. He congratulated Alexi and seemed quite warm about it. Salle received a touch, and then he thanked Mr. Dewcliff and all three observers, including me.

  Mr. Silmarion disappeared shortly after I stood, and that was the last time I’ve ever seen him.

  Ungracious lout.

  But I got an amazing kiss from Alexi, so that wasn’t all bad.

  * * * *

  Word arrived well before we did. Mariya told me, “Someone left the instant you stood up.”

  “Thank you for getting me here, Mariya. I don’t know if I can tell you how much it means to me to be here for this.”

  “You’re welcome, Darfelsa.” She gave me a little hug, and then we stepped in for the party.

  Alexi gave a speech. It offered thanks for everyone involved and her hope for the future. And then Flame read a note of congratulations from her father before hugging Alexi tightly.

  I stepped forward and said, “On my own behalf, and on behalf of my father, I offer congratulations on this momentous day, Alexi Chante.”

  And then we partied.

  There was food, and drink, and dancing, lots of dancing. This was Alexi’s party, and so I kept my own involvement toned down. But I did get a lot of dancing, including with my staff. When Salle got me, she pulled me close. We danced for a minute, and then she said, “Thank you, Darfelsa.”

  “For what?”

  “I know who put this bug in Mother’s ear.”

  “I just shook things a little,” I said. “That’s all.”

  “Well, thank you for shaking things.” She gave me a little kiss at the end before leading me back to Flame.

  We left the following morning.

  Parting

  Flame and I lay together, holding hands, not talking for a long time. We’d said everything we were going to say. I was in no hurry to get up, and I only hoped I could avoid crying.

  But then, just when I thought I couldn’t postpone any longer, she rolled onto her side, partially pinning me to the bed. She began tracing designs in my skin. She spent a minute at it before she asked, “If I come, will you receive me?”

  “Yes.”

  “I heard what you said. You thought I was asleep.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too. We’re good together.”

  “We are.”

  “We’re good together here, in my city, when you’re putting on the princess. I don’t know if we’ll be good in your city, where your enhanced social status is even stronger and mine is nonexistent.”

  “Flame, arrangements like this happen all the time.”

  “Are you belittling the choices I have to make?”

  “No.”

  “Good.” She tapped my nose. “Because I’d be giving up a lot. I know I’d be gaining a lot, too, but there’s no guarantees, are there, and I don’t know how I’d feel in a town where I won’t know anyone.” I didn’t say anything, and after a moment, she continued. “Your sister and I talked for a long time.”

  “Hours.”

  “She told me what I’d be facing. Do you think she was trying to scare me away?”

  “You can trust Ahlianna.”

  “She gave me some advice. I haven’t decided if I’m going to take it.”

  “You can trust Ahlianna,” I said again.

  “Yes, well, I might not decide to take all of it,” she said again. “If I come, it won’t be right away. I’m going to think, and I’ve neglected my painting. Will you be offended if I do one or two of you?”

  “No, but I didn’t sit for you.”

  “I’ve neglected my painting, but not my drawing. I have hundreds of you.”

  I laughed. “I bet you do.”

  “I have a confession.”

  “Oh?”

  “I did a cartoon of you.”

  “Shortly after I arrived,” I said.

  “Someone told you.”

  “I’m not sure your father recognizes his own daughter’s artwork. Me and a certain former minister?”

  “I surely do hope you’re right,” she said with a laugh. “And yes, that’s the one.”

  “Have there been others?”

  “None I let anyone see. Oh, not true. Blaze has seen a few.” She paused. “I don’t want you to write. If I’m not coming, I’ll write you. If you get a letter from me, you don’t need to read it. Have your sister do it for you or something.”

  “If for some reason, you shouldn’t come, the same. Let Blaze read it.” I tried not to cry.

  “Darfelsa, I may… Consider options first. I release you from our existing commitments. I love you, but I don’t know how to be fair to each other.”

  “I understand,” I whispered. I pushed away from her and started crying. “I’m going to go,” I managed to say.

  I dressed, still crying. When I looked at her, she was crying, too. But we didn’t hug again. We didn’t kiss again. But in her doorway, I whispered, “Thank you. I love you.”

  And I fled.

  All the way to Barrish.

  Table of Contents

  Credits

  Ressaline Tiara

  Dinner

  Touches

  Red

  Part Two

  Plans

  Suitable

  Border

  Mixed

  Dinner

  Covers

  Question

  The Road

  Part Three

  Dennaholst

 
Raising A Fuss

  Decisions

  Invitation

  Ministers

  Map Diplomacy

  Bashful

  Agreement

  Fire

  Darling

  Insurance

  News

  Birthday

  Ambassador

  Party

  Parting