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Glow

Page 19

by Joss Stirling


  ‘Not such a tough guy now, huh? Not now I know you’re ticklish?’

  He moved quickly, reversing their positions. ‘Everything you do to me, I get to do to you, agreed?’

  ‘Oh.’

  He kissed the tip of her nose, then bit it gently. ‘Yeah, oh. Not such a tough girl now, huh?’

  She caressed the side of his face, running her fingers over the slightly scratchy jawline. ‘I wish I had patterns like yours.’

  He flopped onto his back so both of them were left staring up at the hostel ceiling. ‘It would make life a lot easier if you did.’

  ‘But I don’t want to be Perilous.’

  ‘That’s not what I meant. I don’t want to change you.’

  ‘What would’ve happened if I’d just been Meri and you Kel and there was no Tean, no Perilous in our background?’

  He brought her hand to his lips. ‘Then we would’ve lived happily ever after.’

  ‘Or you wouldn’t’ve looked at me twice because you would not have had orders from Ade to sound me out.’

  ‘I would’ve looked.’

  ‘We spent a whole year in the same art class and you barely knew I existed.’

  ‘Not true. I did a lot of looking.’ He propped up on one elbow. ‘And I liked what I saw. Wild brown hair.’ He stroked it out on the pillow so it spread like a halo around her head. ‘Sea green eyes.’ He kissed both lids. ‘And a mouth that continually surprised me with the things it said. Not that I knew that until you came out of your shell.’ He leant over for a deeper, longer kiss.

  Meri woke up to find she was alone. The dream had been so real that it was disorientating to find she was back in the palace and not at the eco-service hostel where she had spent the days before Christmas with Kel. They’d had the place to themselves as everyone else had gone home and the interlude had been idyllic.

  But why dream that now? It had to be the memory of the hair arranged on the pillow. Was that why she had thought first of love rather than the more obvious gorgon stories of the Greeks that the archeologists saw? It hadn’t just been that though. Their idyll had been in the darkest part of the year, when days barely scurried in before scampering out. The verse had reminded her of a lovers’ retreat from the world, not a premonition of disaster—though love could bring that too, as she well knew.

  There came a tap on the door and Leah entered without waiting for her answer. ‘Sorry to wake you early, ma’am.’

  Meri rested the back of her arm over her eyes, a defence against the light from the now open shutters. ‘What time is it?’

  ‘Six. They want a breakfast meeting before you go to college.’

  ‘They’ had to be the council. ‘Ugh! Don’t they realize I’m still in my teens and we aren’t programmed to get up until midday? I’m sure I read an article on that somewhere.’

  Leah laughed softly. She was also in her late teens and was always up at dawn without complaint. Meri felt guilty.

  ‘I’ve put out your usual outfit,’ said Leah. That meant jeans and a T-shirt.

  Meri suddenly recalled her plans for the evening. ‘Actually, Leah, I want to wear something suitable for going out after classes.’

  ‘Going where?’

  ‘Dancing at the festival.’

  Leah clapped her hands together. ‘Finally I get to choose something more attractive for you, yes? A girl cannot attend her first fiesta without dressing to impress.’

  ‘Nothing too over the top. I have a day of classes to get through first.’

  ‘Don’t worry, ma’am, I’ve just the thing.’

  The dress was perfect for a Spanish evening: fire engine red like flamenco dancers wear, but stopping just above the knee. Covered with a denim jacket it looked normal, but when Meri slipped that off and revealed the plunging back laced together with crystal droplets, it suddenly shouted ‘let’s party!’.

  ‘I love it,’ admitted Meri. ‘Are you going to come?’ She laced up her tennis shoes, having stowed a pair of heels for later.

  ‘I’m not supposed to leave the palace.’ Leah straightened the bedcovers.

  ‘Do you get any time off, Leah?’

  ‘My life is here.’

  ‘That’s just not healthy. I’m giving you the evening off. Join me, if you like, at the fiesta.’

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I’m your maid.’

  ‘No, you’re the Mistress of the Wardrobe, remember?’

  Leah stood up. ‘You’re right. I am.’

  ‘You have a free evening and you can do what the hell you like. Whoever is telling you otherwise can go shake their ears.’

  Leah giggled. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘Useful Shakespearian insult. Ask Ben. It’s one of his favourites. Not sure which play.’ Meri checked her watch. ‘I’d better go and see what they want.’

  ‘They’ve ordered breakfast to be served. They are on the terrace outside the audience chamber.’

  ‘And doesn’t that just improve my appetite?’ Meri grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl on her glass-topped table and tucked it in her messenger bag. If the meeting went as usual, she wouldn’t have time to appreciate the pastries.

  Reaching the terrace, Meri paused before joining the people waiting for her. The morning was marvellous: cool spring blue, a scattering of high white clouds, the sea glittering as it washed against the cliff. Storm-bent trees curled back from the coast, showing the direction of the prevailing winds from the Atlantic. They seemed to bow to the palace, though in truth it was the erratic climate that had made them that way. Hurricane force winds were known in autumn on this stretch of coast thanks to the warmer ocean this end of the century. Three garden terraces below her spot, a gardener was already out clipping the hedges with a little motorized wheelbarrow hoovering up the offcuts. It looked like a faithful hound at his heels. This theoretically all belonged to her, so why did she struggle so hard to feel as if she had a right to be here?

  All of us are shaped by forces we don’t understand even if we pretend otherwise. Loneliness was turning her into a philosopher, she thought ruefully.

  ‘Your highness?’ called Rayne.

  With a sigh, Meri turned and crossed the fifty metres to the table.

  ‘Good morning, everyone.’ They stood as she took her place then sat down a fraction after her. ‘What can I do for you today that can’t wait for our regular meeting?’ She poured herself an orange juice, noticing that aside from the inner core of four—Rio, Rayne, Derwent and Tegel—the meeting also involved the outer ring, people like Dr Severn. She was also surprised to see Francis included, though right at the far end of the table from her. He gave her a wary nod when she met his eyes. He didn’t look very happy to be here.

  ‘Coffee?’ asked the prime minister, signalling to the steward.

  ‘No, I’m fine with juice. What’s this about?’

  ‘We wanted to settle the matter of your alliance with Rio Cruz,’ said Rayne briskly.

  ‘It is settled. There is no alliance.’ She sipped her orange juice, hoping her shaking hand was not visible to anyone else. Talk about being ambushed. She hadn’t realized Rio had spoken of it to others, thinking the humiliation of being rejected might keep him silent.

  ‘He perhaps did not make it plain that he was acting under instructions from us?’

  ‘No, he didn’t mention that.’ She glanced at Rio who was gazing out at the view as if none of this involved him personally.

  ‘We all think that this is the best solution to our constitutional crisis.’

  ‘What crisis? I thought my claim was recognized and coronation planned?’

  ‘It is. But we want to crown two rulers, the heir and her consort, at the same time.’

  ‘I can see how you might think that a neat solution. The problem you have is that it just won’t happen. Rio and I don’t suit.’ Meri reached for the nearest basket and placed a croissant on her plate. ‘Butter, please.’

  Derwent moved it within reach. �
�I don’t think you understand, Miss Marlowe, the full picture. There are mutterings that Rio’s claim has legitimacy.’

  ‘If you really believe that, then crown him and leave me out of it.’ She broke the croissant apart. ‘But you don’t, do you?’

  ‘Some do.’

  ‘Who? Rio, obviously—he’s never pretended otherwise—but anyone else?’

  ‘I can’t name names. That’s not fair to them when they voiced their misgivings in confidence.’

  ‘So to satisfy the grumbling of unnamed critics, I’m to marry a guy who tells everyone at the university that I’ve had a breakdown and shouldn’t be approached as a friend?’

  ‘Rio? You didn’t really do that, did you?’ asked Rayne.

  ‘It was for her own security.’ Rio was completely unapologetic.

  ‘He has a point,’ argued Tegel. ‘She shouldn’t get too friendly with anyone. Every connection outside the Tean world puts her at risk.’

  Meri wasn’t letting them get away with this with their usual cry of ‘security’ and ‘for her own good’. ‘Then that is something that should’ve been discussed with me and not handled by telling cruel lies. Rio’s method is certainly not something I would have agreed to and I question what harm a friendship with girls of my own age can do.’

  ‘One never knows where such things lead.’

  ‘I thought it was your job to check, Tegel? You’d security vet anyone I came across, wouldn’t you? Unless they are Perilous—and I’m better placed to see that than any of you—why would they endanger me? Rio, I order you to stop spreading lies about me.’

  Dark eyes meeting hers, Rio tapped his forehead mockingly. He knew the damage had already been done. ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  He was insufferable. ‘Now are we finished?’ Meri looked at her watch pointedly.

  ‘The alliance.’ Meri couldn’t believe that Rayne had the cheek to return to that subject. ‘It’s not just to quieten those who support Rio’s claim; you are both the most genetically pure Teans left to us. Your children stand the best chance of inheriting your gifts at full strength.’

  Meri could feel anger rising but she had to keep calm or lose the high ground in this argument. ‘That is true, and I can see why you think that makes sense, but let me make this very clear. No. We do not suit. I might want children in the future but certainly not now and not for many years. That is the last time I wish to be asked on this subject.’ She started to rise but Rayne put a hand on her wrist.

  ‘Please, hear us out. Francis?’

  Her old friend from London got up. ‘Ma’am, Meri, things aren’t going well for the Teans. Uncertainty at the top has made our usual supporters doubt. Word is getting around the colonies of Tean Sympathizers. They were expecting your return to be a new start, for you to be a unifying figure, but instead all they hear are complaints about your relationship with a Perilous.’ And Meri knew where those rumours came from: her not-so-loyal cabinet.

  ‘The one thing they know that you’ve done is put that vagrant Perilous boy with one of your most loyal followers. What kind of payment is that for a man’s service?’ growled Tegel.

  The injustice was breathtaking. ‘I didn’t bring Daro here. That was your doing.’

  ‘But you insisted he stay—and made Ben take him in,’ said Derwent.

  ‘What is wrong with you people?’ Meri was shaking again, this time with rage. ‘He’s just a boy! He was homeless—destitute! You were going to throw him out like the trash.’

  ‘But, Meri, to everyone here he is first and foremost a Perilous. They don’t like having to live with him nearby. It has undermined their faith in your judgement.’ Francis looked pained delivering such a verdict but she knew he would give her the truth even though it was not a duty he relished. ‘I understand why you did it—you’re softhearted—but it was not good for your image. Agreeing to rule jointly with Rio would put that behind us. It would be the new dawn everyone wants. I really think it is for the best, for you as well as us.’

  Meri heard him out. Francis had always tried to give her the best advice he could. She respected him and his opinion, but not over this. Clearly he’d been put under a lot of pressure to throw his weight on the ‘marry Rio’ side of the argument.

  ‘Thank you, Francis, but my mind is made up.’

  ‘Meri, they won’t let you—’ His protest died away under a sharp look from Tegel who was sitting opposite him.

  The realization struck Meri that she was entirely alone. She knew it intellectually, but now she felt it. She was the only one who had any vision that life could be different. They wanted her to repeat the pure blood patterns of the old conflict, even if it meant marrying a man that none of them pretended even liked her. If she was stupid enough to do that, she would be ruler in name and he the real power. But she also realized that stating her objections plainly was going to produce a conflict she was unlikely to win without allies. She needed something she could use to convince them. But what? All she could do was play for time.

  ‘I think enough has been said on this matter for one day.’ Meri picked up her messenger bag. ‘I’ll take all your opinions under advisement.’ That sounded official and reasonable. They couldn’t object. ‘Thank you for your time. I have to go as I’ve an assignment to hand in.’ She walked off before anyone could stop her.

  16

  ‘What’s wrong, Meri?’ asked Lula as they took a place at one of the tables at the side of the square where the fiesta was being held. ‘You don’t look like a girl anticipating a good night out.’

  ‘Sorry.’ Meri knuckled her forehead. It was probably permanently lined from all the frowning she had done all day. ‘I think I need a drink.’

  Lula laughed. ‘That’s more like it.’ She signalled to one of the waiters and he brought over a tray of fruit punch which was quickly grabbed and handed out among Lula and her friends. There was quite a clutch of them but Meri had only caught the names of the two next to her on the bench. The live band had begun playing a mixture of traditional Spanish folk songs and some covers of famous dance hits so conversation at the other end of the table was drowned out. It was a pretty place though, here under the trees of the main square. Strings of solar powered lights hung between the branches; people gathered in knots that loosened as new friends joined. Electric mopeds hummed, weaving between obstacles of people and tables, passengers looking so cool. Meri wondered why she had never managed to be so effortlessly stylish as these Spanish teens. Weren’t they all eaten up with self-doubt, anger and embarrassment as she was?

  ‘So, Meri, tell us something about yourself. What’s your story? Why are you here?’ asked Lula. ‘Hey, Raoul, give Meri some space. Push her another centimetre on that bench and she’ll be on the floor.’

  Raoul grinned and solved the problem by throwing an arm around Meri’s shoulders. ‘She can snuggle up with me like Magda here.’ The Polish girl on his far side giggled. Raoul had made it plain from the moment that Lula introduced him that he had his eyes on the boys rather than the girls so they all knew he was only teasing rather than flirting. ‘Yeah, Meri, how come you’ve enrolled at Jerez in the middle of the year? Did your last place kick you out?’

  ‘Nothing like that. I just had to leave—for family reasons.’

  ‘You’re related to Rio Cruz?’ Raoul gestured to a group on the far side of the square. Rio was in the middle, holding court as usual. ‘Oye, he is easy on the eyes, no? Can you introduce me?’

  Lula patted Raoul’s hand. ‘No chance there, my friend. He’s dating Clarice.’

  ‘Clarice?’ He groaned. ‘I’d like to hate her but she’s so nice.’

  ‘Who’s Clarice?’ asked Meri.

  ‘See the girl with the shoulder-length red hair?’ asked Lula, pointing. ‘That’s her. American scholar—part of his dive team—specialist in ancient languages. She’s doing her PhD with Dr Severn. They’ve been together now for eighteen months.’

  ‘Dr Severn and Clarice?’ Meri smiled.

  ‘Hah
hah. No. Rio and Clarice. Fairly serious as far as I can tell but they keep their relationship quiet. I only know because I asked Rio out and he told me he was already taken.’

  ‘You asked Rio out?’ marvelled Raoul. ‘And why did you not tell me, girlfriend?’

  ‘I don’t tell you everything, boyfriend.’ She imitated his tone.

  ‘I’m deeply offended.’

  ‘No, you’re not. You know you are the college’s worst gossip—and you’re not to spread what I just told you. It wasn’t my finest hour. I’d had too much to drink and did it as a dare last Christmas at a party. I feel dead embarrassed just remembering. He let me down gently though.’

  Meri picked a piece of orange out of her drink and ate the pulp. So Rio had a steady girlfriend all the while he was proposing to her. She didn’t suppose he saw the hypocrisy. She and Tean matters were in one box marked ‘Duty’; Clarice and his passion for diving were in another marked ‘Things that really matter’. Still, it was useful intelligence.

  ‘But you didn’t answer, Meri: what’s your story?’ asked Lula.

  ‘You want me to tell you in front of the boy you just named the biggest gossip in Jerez?’

  ‘You don’t have to worry, sweetie: no one’s interested in you.’ Raoul winked.

  He was so wrong but what could she say? That she was the heir to an ancient kingdom and was fabulously wealthy but had no power and was in love with someone her own people thought a deadly foe? Even Raoul would have to admit that it made an intriguing story and her interest factor would climb exponentially. So she offered instead some half-truths. ‘I lost my parents when I was little and have lived with different relatives until Rio’s turn came along. I was shipped over here because they thought I’d like the college.’

  ‘So where have you been before? I can hear an English accent, can’t I?’

  ‘Yes, I’ve spent quite a few years there, but I’m not English by birth. I’m from over the pond like Rio.’

  ‘And that big place of Rio’s where you all live: who does that belong to? Rio’s never mentioned wealthy parents.’

 

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