Sit Pretty

by R. J. Price

  “My father would find that shocking?” Mar asked.

  “Your father knows about the commune,” Av said carefully. “He's even met this person, though she was keeping careful control of her temper and I've told her to come punch the one who sat the throne. She probably will introduce herself in just a manner, which is why she was the one I invited.”

  “And that would shock my father?” Mar asked.

  Av shook his head. “No, your father would find it amusing. Queens fighting always amuses him, I have no idea why. No, what would shock him is when I introduce her at court. Ranked queen, likely future leader of said commune…” Av paused. “And his daughter. Your half-sister.”

  “How many children does he have?” Mar protested. “Has he claimed any of them?”

  “Just two and no,” Av sighed. “Your mother didn't tell him you were his.” Av motioned to the pyre. “You probably have been told that sort of led to this.

  “Her mother didn't know she was pregnant until it was too late. He slept with her one very drunken night after your mother left him, didn't know the child was ever born. When I got word of it, I took care of her, but I didn't hear until the girl was seven.”

  “When my mother took the throne?” Mar asked.

  Av nodded. “She said she knew because your mother took the throne. Her daughter had started asking questions about daddy by that time and I had to remove them from the general area. Couldn't have her hitting her stride and demanding the throne tell her who her father is.”

  “The throne can do that?” Mar grumbled.

  “If the one who sits the throne knows, or if the court knows, any bastard or unclaimed child can go before the court and demand an answer. This girl knew I knew and somehow knew if she went to court while I was there, if she demanded an answer, I'd have to give it to her or the throne would demand retribution.” Av gave his head a shake. “It's such an odd rule. So odd, in fact, that few who could use it, ever know about it.”

  “It is a strange rule, yes,” Mar said, the words turning over in her mind. Suddenly she knew what she could do, how she could find her answers.

  “You should call a court,” Av said. “Present yourself properly and claim a bloodline for yourself, Mar.”

  “What do you mean?” Mar asked, thinking Av had dropped all pretence of sharing a story.

  “Your mother is dead, obviously.” Av motioned to the pyre. “Traditionally a bastard waits until the pyre goes out, then go before the throne. You were a mark on Em's reputation, but with Em out of the way, you now have full rights to her estate, to whatever bloodline you want. Or even create a new one.”

  “What?” Mar asked. “A bastard has no right to her mother's or father's estate.”

  “Once your mother died, you were no longer a bastard,” Av responded. “As her only child, you are the sole inheritor to her estates, to do with as you please.”

  Mar felt like the ground was going to jump up and meet her. “Lord Av,” she managed to get out before she had to stop. Aren had said her mother had lied to her for her entire life. Could it have even been over something as fundamental as what a bastard was? “I believe that my definition of bastard, and yours, are different.”

  Av swore. “You know where the master's home is. Go there and see my father, Ervam. I don't want to have this discussion while watching a pyre. He can offer you privacy to deal with your emotions as well as detailed explanations as to your options.”

  “All right,” Mar said distantly.

  “Try not to faint between here and there,” Av growled.

  “I am not going to faint, like I'm some weak-willed woman!” Mar snapped at him, marching off.

  Thankful for her anger, knowing Av had jabbed her in order to elicit a reaction that would keep her feet under her, Mar went in search of Ervam.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Av watched Mar walk off and wondered how much trouble he would be in for sharing the 'true' story of why he had shipped her half-sister off to the commune. His father would know the tale was a lie, but would it be corrected? All Av wanted fixed was Mar's definition of what a bastard was.

  During Em's life Mar couldn't claim a bloodline as a reminder to Em of her transgression. Once their parent died, a bastard was entitled to their share of any estate left behind, and none of the debt. They could then choose a bloodline, creating a new one if they chose, and go about their lives however they pleased.

  By going before the throne, Mar would give Av the opportunity to call for retribution. The throne would pay a blood price to Mar for how Em had treated her. Typically the throne was to put an end to such treatment, but when the one who sat the throne was causing the problems, things became complicated.

  Mar going to the throne also gave Jer the perfect platform to announce to the court that she had never been a bastard. This would allow them to make public that Mar had blood, and allow Av and his father to interact with Mar as uncle and grandfather rather than a lords to a woman at court.

  Court wouldn't be called until the next day, at the least, which would give the pyre time to burn down.

  “Lord Av.” Para stepped up beside him.

  The woman had snuck up on him, causing Av to flinch, almost jumping in place. He turned his attention to Para and then turned back to the pyre, determined not to say anything.

  “I've been told a disturbing rumour,” the woman said and then huffed out a breath. “That you've walked my daughter through the court. “Need I remind you, you are old enough to be her father? Do you really enjoy the company of younger women that much?”

  “Perlon is older than Mar,” Av said. “Older than her father, in fact. Would you also like to question that arrangement? Or how about the one of your father to his newest mate? He's old enough to be her grandfather. Do you also have a problem with that arrangement?”

  The moment the words were out of Av’s mouth, he could no longer recall where he had heard the information from. Surely he must have heard it while walking the halls of the palace.

  “That was love,” Para snapped at Av. “I will not permit you to mate, or court, my daughter, Lord Av. You are chasing something you could never have and I will not allow you to ruin her life in your pursuit of me.”

  Av outright laughed. “You think I want Aren because, absolutely drunk, I went to bed with you? Once? More than twenty years ago? Please, Para, even for you, that's a stretch.”

  “We sent word south, when we came this way,” Para said quickly. “To the baron and the high lord. Baron Merkat should be here shortly. We called them to protect our estate from Em's destruction, but now circumstances have changed. The baron has several sons of mating age. We will arrange for Aren to mate to the south.”

  “To what end?” Av asked. “Mates from palace lands to the lands outside are removed from their homes, never heard from again.”

  “We entertained the baron as Aren was preparing to leave for the palace. He expressed interest, then, in mating her to one of his sons.” Para hesitated as Av turned from the pyre, to her. “Once Aren was gone, I convinced my mate to allow her freedom because, as you say, ladies who mate to outside lands are never heard from again.”

  Av was fairly certain Para was lying, but then was not the time to call her on her lies. He folded his arms and waited for her to continue.

  “When we told Merkat that Aren was coming to the palace to be finished off, the baron asked the state of the one who sat the throne. We elaborated. News is rare to the outside lands. They were under the belief that your mother still ruled and were surprised the north had not joined palace lands, as whisper had been when she took the throne. Too bad she lived for such a short period. A united world is the dream of many people.”

  “And when the baron learned Em sat the throne?” Av asked. “He, what? Offered up one of his sons?”

  “He said she would die shortly.” Para frowned at Av. “He was looking at Aren when he said that, I recall because I thought it odd. He seemed to be speaking to Aren. Once Aren
went to bed he sat us down and asked us what we thought of the south joining palace lands.”

  “J—” Av choked. “The south wants to rejoin palace lands? By the spirits, woman, why would you sit on this information? We will dispatch another missive, send Jer down there to negotiate a treaty!”

  “The south will only join,” Para said, stressing each word while smiling at Av, “if the one who sits the throne mates one of the baron's sons.”

  Cold ran through Av. The south mated for life, there were no timed matings there because they believed in the age-old marriage. A year's mating was called hand fasting, or something of that sort, and ten years did not exist. If Aren were to mate the baron's son, the south would be re-united with the palace and she would be on the road to solidifying the fractured world.

  The baron would lose his status and the high lord would step back up as the ruling authority, representing the throne in the south while Aren continued to rule from the palace.

  “His terms?” Av asked. “They all have terms.”

  “Let me start by passing on news of the south,” Para said. “For surely the palace hears the same of the lands as they do about us. That the south is a wasteland and barren, though the palace says that about all the lands. That culture is only now beginning to bloom down there after two hundred years of independence. It was the last land to separate from the palace, it would be suiting, don't you think, that it be the first to rejoin?”

  “I suppose,” Av said, though it wasn't entirely true.

  “But the south is not a wasteland as you likely have been told. It is lush and tropical once more. Its people are rich. Not just in culture, but in coin. The taxes from the south alone, for half a year, would pay off the debt of the throne and begin refilling the treasury. Which would allow the throne to turn to the coast and infuse that coin into their culture and re-assert the palace's control.”

  “The coast has rejoined the palace, along with the north,” Av said.

  “Then why are they still called the coast and the north?” Para asked. “The south would erase all borders. The baron would step down and accept title of lord, in exchange for a piece of land and an estate built by the taxes of his people. The estate he has claimed as his own would go to the high lord.

  “This high lord was placed by Lady Em. He would like the man removed, but we are to play nicely with him for the moment.”

  “No doubt he would suggest himself as the new high lord,” Av said. “Since the old high lord's blood was completely destroyed.”

  “You are correct on that fact, but who better to run the south than the man who has been doing so for the past fifteen years?” Para asked Av. “With no more baron, the taxes to the palace would be increased. There would be no concern about issuing commands because only the high lord would exist. They would like to name themselves as a province. Allowing the palace to give the people a nod to their obvious independence while also allowing taxation between the south and other lands of the palace to be different. In case they do become a wasteland once more.”

  “The south is not that large,” Av said. “It is hardly worth the effort when we could, say, mate Aren to the nephew of the baron of the north and reunite the north with palace lands.”

  “The north is poor. So poor, in fact, that the taxation on the people there has yet to be enough to pay for the baron and the palace. They still have a baron and a high lord, for crying out loud.”

  Only until the current baron, Av's uncle, passed away. His uncle's eldest son was also the high lord of the north. Named so through a mating between the previous high lord's only child and Av's uncle. Once the baron passed away, the two titles would be placed on the one lord, Av's cousin.

  That too had been part of the agreement, but Av's uncle was a hearty man. He would likely live another decade or two before the north could be said to have no boundaries between it and the palace.

  What Para offered, despite Av's protests, was unique. The southern wastes and western marshes had held out while the palace bartered with the north and the coast. Av's mother had brought the north back to the throne, but barely so. The coast had come begging when famine and disaster struck them.

  But the south?

  Av had to congratulate Para on that sly move. The court would back such a mating, even if Aren attempted to denounce it.

  “And if Aren's reign is short?” Av asked Para.

  “You wouldn't be interested in her if her reign would be short,” Para said, waving a finger back and forth at Av, attempting to chastise him. “Even if she is my daughter.”

  “But if Aren's reign does end abruptly, then what?” Av asked.

  “From my understanding the baron would keep his word. After all, the south would already be united under the palace.”

  “And the palace laws?” Av pushed. “The lands always want alterations to the laws and commands to suit their purposes.”

  “Accepted without hesitation,” Para said with a smile.

  “The baron said this to you,” Av growled, “before you sent Aren to court?”

  “Yes,” Para said quickly. “You doubt me? You think I would lie about what the baron told me in my own home? Just to get an arranged mating through the court more quickly? Do you know what will happen to me when Aren is mated?”

  “I've an idea,” Av said through gritted teeth.

  He had an idea because he had been actively entertaining fantasies as to what he could do to make Para's life miserable, once she was removed as head of house. He had even considered simply pushing her down a flight of steps and claiming she tripped. If only that would rid him of the woman.

  “Then you should know that if I make trouble, especially about a treaty, I would be forfeiting my life,” Para said. “I don't know what I did to upset my daughter, besides love and provide for her, but she wants nothing to do with me. Or her father.”

  “Consider, Lady Para, the fact that the baron very clearly set the terms of a treaty with the palace, to you, before you sent your daughter, who now sits the throne, to the palace for finishing, and ask yourself why she might be upset by your presence.”

  “Whatever do you mean?” Para asked.

  “He knew she was a queen, somehow he seemed to know she would take the throne,” Av said. “A trick I shall have to ask the man about.”

  “Did you know, when you first met her?” Para asked.

  “No, she hid herself very well,” Av said. “I was interested in her since before I knew she had rank. Aren's temper and mine would go well together, if we ever set our minds on the same thing.”

  “You didn't know?” Para huffed out. “I don't understand why the girl would hide herself from her own family.”

  Thinking back to the tale Aren told them, of how Para had burned a queen as a witch for speaking to Aren, Av tried not to growl. He looked Para over and finally met her eyes.

  “I haven't a clue why she wouldn't want to tell the manipulative, ruthless woman that you are, about her rank.”

  “Do not insult me!” Para snapped angrily. “I am mother to the one who sits the throne!”

  “And I am hers!” Av bellowed back. “I don't understand why people have such a hard time understanding me when I say that? Am I speaking gibberish? No one else but me, will ever sit the throne with Aren! I am hers and she is mine, and if you tell her differently, so help me, Para, I won't wait until Aren is mated to destroy you.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Mar walked onto the master’s yard as Ervam looked up. He hadn't quite made the transition to master yet, though he had taken over Av's morning training of the ladies. The women were gathered and going through the motions, but were glancing between the trainer and the black smoke rising to the sky. Obviously their minds were on the drink and celebration of the day, instead of their training.

  “Ladies, put your sticks away,” Ervam said loudly. “You're dismissed for the day.

  It didn't take long for them to stash away the sticks and leave.

  Mar st
epped onto the porch and looked at Ervam. Each time she saw the man, he seemed to struggle with something. Perhaps he knew, just as Aren and Av did, who her father was and wanted to tell her. She wanted to press the matter, but other events begged for a different sort of conversation.

  Or maybe she simply avoided the topic because she didn’t want to know why her presence caused Ervam such pain and grief.

  She hesitated to give him the moment she knew he needed to get himself under control. The grief was brief, and then he recovered.

  “I need you to educate me as to what a bastard is,” Mar said, taking a seat on the steps.

  A funny sort of grey colour came over the man. The silence that followed was so long that Mar almost repeated the question.

  “What is a bastard to you?” Ervam asked.

  “A poor child born to a mother or father who cheated, who must be shunned through no fault of their own,” she said in response. “It means a lonesome childhood, because no one wants to play with you. It means that just when you think you're making friends with tutors, they betray you and run off with your favourite belongings. It means that only a banished warrior will stay by your side, holding your hand and telling you, your whole life, that you're not the reason. But who do you believe? The woman who birthed you, or the man who raised you?”

  “The man who raised you,” Ervam said quietly. “Did anyone ever explain his relationship to you? Your head of house?” Mar shook her head in silent response. “He was Mirmae’s, my mate's, steward when she sat the throne. When your mother insisted on removing you from court, he resigned as steward and Jer, my son, convinced your mother that the man who was once steward of the court could be trusted to hold a house for her.”

  Why was he being so clear as to his relationship to everyone at court? Of course Mar knew that Ervam was Jer’s father. She knew because her mother had once raved about the trainer. Then later she learned more from Aren