Twelve

by Savannah Verte

  As Lyford had never come to visit, only demanding the children make an appearance at the castle every so often, he was none the wiser. The only thing that potentially could have tipped him off was the shoe budget. Requests for money, or anything else, had ceased. Even that, he was not interested in enough to pay attention, or so Elba believed.

  It was only when Devlin joined the group that Elba agreed to see the club finally.

  “Please Elba. Please come. I am exactly who I’m supposed to be there. I’m free. I need you to see it.” Devlin pleaded.

  “One time. One time now that you are old enough, and able to make the choice. This way, I can state absolutely that I did not have a role in this choice.” She acquiesced. “I had to keep my distance while you three were still coming of age.”

  When she walked in, she was taken back by the scene. Everything about the club was erogenous. Even the stage was phallic. A long runway jutted out into the club, subdividing the floor cleanly in two. Twin small arcs flanked it on one end where it intersected with the curtain. And, the whole stage was studded through with polished, shiny poles. If she’d had any notion of what to expect by the condition the girls had returned in night after night, she still never would have imagined this.

  Elba had combed more than her share of small glittery bits out of hair, and plucked feathers in every color she could think of from other clothes. She, and others, had nearly tumbled multiple times stepping on, and sliding over renegade beads that were littered across the floor. What these combinations amounted to, she hadn’t paused to give much thought to. Seeing the lounge in person, she wasn’t sure she was ready to know.

  Making her way to a table, she was nearly blinded by any number of the multiple spotlights, all of them focused on the audience. She didn’t understand that until Raven took the stage and they turned. Dressed in a costume that made her look like she was wearing an exotic bird, the lights all turned, focusing exclusively on her as she cleared the curtain.

  Elba was busily watching Raven dance. Her movements were evocative and made Elba blush. She was so captivated by her movements, it wasn’t until nearly all of the girls had joined Raven onstage that Elba noticed there was anyone else on stage. Before long, twelve dancers were moving across the stage with and around one another. They were between the poles, or just as easily on them in any number of contorted poses. Elba couldn’t keep track.

  When she finally spotted Devlin, she was overcome. He looked just like the others. Even knowing he was not a female, to look at him, she could not tell. He was beautiful. More than that, he was beaming. Elba spent the rest of the evening paying close attention. She knew she would not be returning, but when asked, she would be able to honestly say what a wonderful job he had done.

  Misery

  Back at the kingdom, the clock was ticking. There were only a few years left before the thirty-year deadline would lapse. Lyford had never fully recovered from the loss of his beloved Bryn. Armen was running out of options.

  “What if he gained a son by a mistress and married her then?” One of the guards asked.

  “I don’t see how we can back into that.” Armen replied. “Besides, Leopold is more stalwart and stubborn then I gave him credit. I had thought by the end of the thirty years he would be gone already. I miscalculated. I firmly believe that he will outlast the amendment, if only by a day, to see it fail now.”

  “But why? He will have gained nothing other than more of a kingdom with no heir to rule. What if one of the princesses would marry? That’s how he merged his kingdom the first time. Why not now?”

  Armen was pensive. He knew that it would be a delicate negotiation, if it happened at all. But, pending nuptials might be enough to sway the equation. He would have to talk to Lyford. He hated to. He would prefer to handle it himself, but knew that wouldn’t work.

  The king was busy salving his wounds with any vice he could manage. Multiple mistresses had come and gone from his bedchamber, all of them unfulfilled. The lure of potentially bedding, and perhaps one day marrying the king got them there, but his lack of performance preempted return visits.

  The latest in the lineup tried a second time, but left again, never to return, after Lyford called her Bryn during foreplay. She could not bring herself to be a stand-in for the dead queen. Armen pleaded with her to try again, before broaching the alternative subject with Lyford when she declined.

  “We are running out of time.” Armen announced, ripping open the old wound.

  “I am well aware of the time. I am also well aware that I am an older man now. What chance do you think I have of conceiving a child, never mind a son? Been there, done that. I’ve got a dozen daughters to show for the effort.”

  “Perhaps we could modify the agreement. If, we had something more to bargain with.” Armen tempted.

  “What exactly do you have in mind? I’m fairly certain that neither you, nor I, have anything that the Coeur d’Alene is interested in now. He is an older man than I am.”

  “What if one of your daughter’s were to marry? Surely the idea of a coming wedding would be good news for the Coeur d’Alene. It would certainly go a long way to calm the masses on our side.”

  Lyford scoffed, waving Armen off with a halfhearted shrug. “How do you intend to get one of them to marry? Better yet, how do you intend to get one of them to marry, and want to return here? They’ve been gone for ages, and even when they come back, they are gone again before nightfall.”

  “They are all of age…” Armen voiced slowly. “I could marry one of them.” He added, trying to sound offhand.

  Lyford’s head snapped up. “No. You cannot marry one of them.”

  “Why not?!” Armen demanded before recovering his temper.

  “Because they align you with me. You see how much they want to spend time with me. There is no way that an engagement to you would draw any of them back.”

  Armen was surprised by the logic of the response, his knee-jerk reaction being far different for what he believed the reason was. “Okay, then what’s option number two?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Then I suggest that we try option number one. The time it will take to get them to return, convince them, even one of them, and proposition the Coeur d’Alene with the news, will take us to the precipice of the mergers failure date.”

  Home

  The summons arrived on a Monday.

  By order of King Lyford Rousseau, your presence is required for the announcement of a marriage. All parties here in will attend.

  Aislyn, Feraut, Evelyn, Raven, Camden, Layla, Kayla, Destry, Dana, Shara, Erin, & Devlin.

  Elba read the missive, nodded to the courier, and retreated. “A marriage?” She wondered aloud. “Who is he marrying this time?”

  Once everyone had gathered, Elba read the notice aloud. Objections came from all directions.

  “Will attend? Awful presumptuous.”

  “Marriage? Who’s getting married?”

  “Required? Since when does he have enough of anything to do with us to make requirements?”

  “Hush. Hush.” Elba said loudly, pumping her open palms downward. “You are still the wards of his kingdom. Legally, you are adults, and as such, can make your case to decline, though it may be a more difficult situation than to just be present.”

  “We will go, as long as you are with us.” Camden finally announced after the conversation lulled.

  Elba grinned broadly. “Legally adult or not, I would not have it any other way than to be by your side.”

  They agreed to set off in the morning at first light. Perhaps, they could get it over with, be gone, and be back home again, by nightfall.

  “Okay, you’ve got us here. What’s the announcement? Who’s getting married?” Dana cut to the chase as soon as they were collectively in audience with their father.

  “And here I had thought that you might have learned some manners.” He retorted sharply.

  “We have learned plenty. School has nothing to do
with our manners toward you. We are simply returning that which we received.” Evelyn clipped. “You required our attendance, we are attending.”

  If Lyford had thought this would go quickly, well, or easily, he buried those hopes quickly. “As you may or may not know, many years ago, nearly thirty years ago to be precise, an agreement was made with the kingdom of the Coeur d’Alene across the northern border. The agreement was that our kingdoms would be merged under one house. The stipulation to the continued alignment of our subjects, was that a son would one day assume the throne over both.”

  “That’s why there are so many of us?” Kayla interrupted. “You wanted a boy?”

  Lyford exhaled forcefully. “Yes, that’s true. However, as I have daughters, we are hopeful to salvage the union of our kingdoms by way of a marriage. With this in mind, Armen, my trusted vizier, has agreed to wed…”

  Raven shot up from her seat. “Armen is not an heir to this throne.”

  Lyford swallowed hard, glanced sideways to Armen, and looked back to his daughters. “No, he is not. But, all of you are.” He stated, letting the implication hang.

  “Absolutely not!” Elba jumped up to stand in front of the rest.

  “Elba, your presence was not requested, nor is it required. You have no say in this matter.” Armen scolded before Lyford could speak.

  “I have been here since the first of these children were born. I have been the one who swaddled, bathed, dressed, taught, and cared for each of them since the day of their births. Not only that, but I will absolutely do whatever is necessary to prevent any of them from marrying you.” She spat back.

  Lyford could follow the logic to a point, but could not make the jump to understand why she would protest so earnestly. “What’s wrong with him?” He challenged. “He has cared for this kingdom since before I was born. There is no more loyal subject in the land.”

  Elba snapped. Long buried secrets were coming out and she voluntarily became the mouthpiece, even knowing the children were listening. They needed to hear it too. It had been too long. “Is that what you think? Ask him how Ava died? Ask him why she wore his name in blood across her gown by her own hand when she could do nothing else. Go ahead, ask him!” She challenged as Armen flushed and Lyford blanched.

  “Ask him how Grace died. You’ve lived in denial. I’ve lived in the shadows, where no one thought to guard their words. I’ve heard them talking. I know he was responsible. Ask him why each of your wives only got three chances to produce a son. I’d be willing to bet he knows how your parents died too.” Elba shouted before she could stop herself.

  Every jaw in the room was slack except for Armen and his guard’s whose hand darted to the hilt of his sidearm. Elba wasn’t finished yet. “You wrapped yourself in the cloak of duty, all the while denying your children. They will not marry him. If you are half the king you want everyone to believe, you won’t keep him now knowing the truth.”

  “Take her into custody.” Armen directed the guard.

  “Do not!” Lyford interjected, grabbing the small Dirk from his boot and setting it along Armen’s throat. “Tell me. Tell me she lies.” He said a breath away from Armen’s face.

  “She is a servant. You would take her word?”

  “That isn’t a denial.”

  “No. It isn’t.”

  The scuffle was quick, surprising everyone. In the fracas, several things happened simultaneously. Armen’s guard was too slow, the king, for once in his life, was too fast, and no one moved to intervene. When it was done, Armen laid bleeding out on the floor, his guard trying to stem the flow, but losing by the moment with the king standing over them both. “So, it’s true.”

  “Believe what you want. The truths that I know will never be yours now.” Armen rasped, gasping for breath.

  “Take them with you. You won’t need them where you’re going and they’ve done no good here.” Lyford turned back to his children. “I didn’t know.”

  “Sadly,” Aislyn spoke up, “what you did or didn’t know, doesn’t matter now. What’s done is done.”

  Staring at the group, he belatedly noticed that several of them had bruises in different stages of healing. For as many pair that he had bought through the ages, he noticed too that all of their shoes were worn nearly through. For a formal announcement, they had come to the castle dressed as little more than peasants.

  “I know I can’t ask it, but it would still be best if one of you were to marry.” Lyford said. He knew he was already defeated, the last-ditch effort was all he had left.

  “What happens if none of us marry?” Devlin queried in an awkward falsetto.

  Lyford shrugged. It took him a moment to answer as he belatedly noticed that Devlin’s hair was pink. “Then the agreement expires and our kingdom falls to the Coeur d’Alene.”

  Destry snorted. “You’ve married before. Guess you better try again. It’s your kingdom to lose. We don’t want it.”

  Lyford slumped. Nothing more was said on the subject. Try as he might, he knew he did not have the words, or the right, to ask for more, or again. He watched as they turned collectively and left with Elba, truly the one person who had ever been there for them. He couldn’t blame them for it, it was all they knew. And, it was all his fault.

  Changes

  The team at the boarding house had been more than accommodating. While technically there was no set requirement that anyone move out immediately upon passing their final courses, the twelve and Elba had lingered far longer than most. Several years longer in fact. Because of the unique situation, they had all been allowed to stay together, but it was becoming awkward. “We need to move on. All of you are well beyond the age of anyone else here.” Elba commented offhand one evening.

  “Actually,” Aislyn chimed in brightly, “we found somewhere. We just needed a little time to make it all work out.”

  Elba eyed her, choosing her next words carefully. “By that, I would take it to mean that you will not be returning to the castle.”

  “No. We won’t. But, we understand if you are required to. We hope that you will come with us instead though.” Erin tempted.

  “As long as you will have me, I will be where you are.”

  “Great!” Kayla dashed around the end of the table to hug Elba fiercely. “We want you to see it, tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “Yes, tomorrow.” Layla interjected. “We are not completely oblivious. We heard the headmistress speak to you again the other day. We knew we were out of time.”

  “Tomorrow it is then.”

  Their residence was not the only thing changing. Logan’s Lost Lounge was under construction, which made the timing nearly ideal. New rooms were being added, and as such, the club was operating minimally. It was the perfect time to move, though moving didn’t take nearly as long as the renovations.

  Elba did not join them for their return trip to the lounge. She had gone once, and once was enough for her. She did not approve, nor disapprove, but she didn’t need to bear witness repeatedly.

  Nerissa, the club manager showed them around upon their return. The changes were extravagant. Themed rooms had been added on both sides of the main floor. The rules however, remained the same, no touching, at least not from the patrons.

  The first room they saw was covered in silver and mirrors. It was high profile. Dancers in this room would be tasked with channeling the aristocracy. Several of the girls laughed. “If she only knew.” One of them muttered under their breath.

  The second room was equally themed in extravagance. Nearly every surface was covered in gold. It was opulent and shouted wealth. The dancers in this room would be dressed to match.

  On the opposite side of the main floor was a room that was more comfortable in appearance. Chairs were scattered in pockets where patrons could enjoy a private dance, but at the same time, all dancers would be easily viewed. Prior to this, the closest interactions with patrons only happened on the main floor, which was awkward with the major stage as a foca
l point.

  Last was a room of jewels. Diamonds, rubies, emeralds, sapphires, and others twinkled from their placements. The room itself was done in colors to match. This room had no overtone, but was, like the one next to it, for a more comfortable setting, while still drawing a picture of something more intimate than the main stage.

  “Who goes where?” Camden asked as they returned to the main floor.

  “Everyone will have opportunities to rotate through any of the rooms. No one is assigned, though some may be more comfortable than others. We would still like the twelve of you to dance together, but this would provide an opportunity for you each to showcase yourself individually as well.”

  “How much longer until everything is ready?” Raven asked.

  “Just a few more days. I know that you have relocated. It should give you time to settle before you return. We will look for you a week from Friday.”

  “Perfect!” Devlin said, clapping his hands together. “I want to put some new costumes together by then too.”

  The base costumes are started and waiting in your dressing rooms.” Nerissa giggled. “You are welcome to personalize, so long as they stay to the themes.”

  The conversation erupted to discussions of jewels, feathers, beads, glitter, and most importantly, new shoes. It wasn’t a contest, but it was going to be one of sorts. Each of them had different ideas about how to showcase themselves as individuals, and none were wasting a moment.

  Within time things took on a new routine. Each of the Rousseau twelve had turns in the new rooms, but they all came together for their showcase on the main stage each night. They each had gained dedicated audiences as well. Suitors lined up outside the lounge night after night to see them dance, and waited for turns in the chairs for private entertainment. Proposals were common, but none ever accepted. The twelve were enjoying their freedom too well to consider giving it up. Eventually, they came to be known as the Twelve Dancing Princesses, a moniker they laughed about often.