Twelve

by Savannah Verte

  New Plan

  Lyford’s melancholy drove deeper toward depression. His past cropped up to greet him as soon as he opened his eyes. He soon accepted that it was not a nightmare, but his reality. Before long, it found him before his eyes even opened. He knew too well that his time was nearly up, and there was no potential solution on the horizon. He knew of the Lost Lounge, and it’s Twelve Dancing Princesses. Even so, he had not put it together with his daughters.

  He tried again to mend fences, reaching out to them with an impromptu visit. He was devastated a new to find their living arrangements sadly lacking the opulence of his castle and kingdom. They were not moved by his gesture.

  He detoured from his return trip. He had spent much of the ride considering what he had seen. Left with no alternatives, he crossed back over the northern border, and went to see the only person who could alter the future. Though they had merged their kingdoms together ages before, he’d never actually made the trip before. The castle for the Coeur d’Alene was resplendent. As an uninvited guest, he waited in the foyer for audience to be granted.

  “Leopold will see you.” The servant announced without emotion. “This way please.”

  Entering the small study, Lyford was surprised to see Leopold. He remained a picture of health. Anyone seeing them together could easily assume that Lyford was the elder, and Leopold the junior. “This is a surprise.” The patriarch of the Coeur d’Alene opened, snapping Lyford from his thoughts.

  “It is a surprise to me too. I had not intended to come here this day.”

  “Oh?” Leopold quipped. “What changed?”

  “I have been to see my daughters.”

  “That too surprises me.”

  “Well…” Lyford began, shifting from foot to foot.

  “Why don’t you sit? It seems this will be a long tale.” Leopold interjected, motioning toward a chair.

  Lyford sat heavily. “Once upon a time, I had thought that there was a way to still fulfill our agreement. I know now, that is not true. I accepted, and acted, upon bad advice, and the result is what it will be. They want nothing to do with me. They want nothing to do with my kingdom. And, they feel no obligation to the agreement we made.” He leveled quickly before he could change his mind.

  “So I have heard.”

  “Which part?” Lyford asked before he processed the actual words.

  “All of it. But, I too bear some responsibility. I should have known then that you were too young. I should have known that Armen was instigating the merger agreement. Looking back, it is much clearer. At the time, it was almost divine intervention.” Leopold paused. “You have daughters now, so you can appreciate the burden of needing an heir, and of the driving inclination to intervene.”

  Lyford drug a hand down his face. “You give me more credit than I deserve. When I heard the plan, my thought was to expand my kingdom. It had nothing to do with an heir, I presumed that would take care of itself. Even now, even if I wanted to, intervening is not an option. They have made it abundantly clear that they are in charge of their futures now. I lost that right when they were born and I walked away.”

  Leopold chuckled, drawing Lyford from his self-deprecation. “Forgive me if this sounds condescending. I don’t mean it to be. But, welcome to the game.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  Leopold leaned back, rubbed his chin, and considered his next words. “At some point in our lives, each of us has to come to terms with what is real, and what is never going to be. Some of us, have the benefit of guidance to reach that point. Others, like you, don’t. For all their faults, your parents were good people. With them gone, you had no one to show you the differences. Your trust was misplaced, and as such, you paid a steep price. It’s a game. It’s called life. Be glad that you learned it. Some never do.”

  Lyford stared at the elder man. His comments were not from a position of judgment, though he certainly had the right after everything that had happened. “But, I can’t change it. The game has been played and I have lost.”

  Leopold tilted his head from side to side. “Yes, and no.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “I mean…” Leopold grinned, “Yes, the game as you knew it has been played. And, you did indeed lose. But, because the game is part of a larger landscape called life, there is always another game to be played. The question is, will you now, or do you surrender?”

  “Surrender? You mean my kingdom, sorry, our kingdom?”

  “No…” Leopold laughed robustly, shaking his head. “No, I wasn’t referring to that. I meant, will you stand up to participate in the game as it is being played now. You don’t have to, I suppose. You haven’t participated for quite a long time now. It’s your choice. I’m asking if you will choose, or if you will accept the defeat as it was dealt.”

  Lyford was lost. “I don’t understand.”

  Leopold held up his hand to pause Lyford. “Let’s consider my game then. I have daughters. My kingdom needed an heir. I could have decided that there was no hope, but instead, I entered into an agreement with you, to be the heir to our combined kingdoms by marriage to one of my daughters. In exchange, I got thirty years to see from a different perspective. My game was changed. Your game too, can be changed.”

  Lyford huffed in exasperation. “They want nothing to do with me, didn’t you understand that?”

  “What if it isn’t through you?”

  Lyford stared blankly. His mind was racing, trying to grasp the meaning, but only circling in confusion. “Again, I don’t understand.”

  Leopold stood, paced to the fireplace and back again before speaking. “Look, the merger between our two kingdoms, at least for the next couple of years, remains in the balance. Your appearance here, while unanticipated, presents an opportunity for us to change the game. What I am suggesting, is that circumstances be manipulated in such a way so that it is their idea.”

  “Their idea for what?”

  “To marry. To ascend. All of it.”

  Lyford’s eyes went wide. “They want nothing to do with me now. I don’t think I could bear it if the aversion changed to overt hate for manipulating them.”

  Leopold nodded as he sat back down. “I understand. It is a delicate thing. I think it can be done in such a way that they would never know.”

  “This was a mistake…” Lyford began as he started to rise.

  “No. This is the first that you have tried to be king, to be responsible, to be their parent. Your job is not for them to like you, it is for you to put them in a position to become more than they are. You’ve never done that. It’s high time.”

  “Tell me how.” Lyford finally acquiesced, still uncertain this would end well.

  The balance of the evening was spent laying out plans, simple plans to drive his daughters to succeed in spite of how they felt. Multiple times, Lyford was sure it would fail. Leopold reassured him, reminding him that he also had multiple daughters, and sometimes to get them to act one way, you had to behave as if you are pushing them to act another.

  Lyford felt ancient and juvenile, all at the same time before he left. He had little hope that the plan would succeed, but with no other alternatives, he agreed. The agreement between the houses, while formally would stand with the impending due date, between them now had no expiration. With so many possibilities, Leopold was certain an heir was coming.

  Flies

  Word spread like wildfire through the lands that any available prince who could win the heart of one of Lyford’s daughters, and gain her promise of marriage, would become heir to the combined Rousseau - Coeur d’Alene kingdoms. The twelve were incensed and aghast immediately. “Who does he think he is?” Destry demanded angrily.

  “He can’t force this, can he?” Evelyn asked as she turned to Elba.

  “I don’t know.” Elba answered softly. “You are his children. It could be within his purview, though it is a careless plan. He learned nothing evidently from his own mistakes.”

  “What do we d
o?” Dana asked somberly.

  Aislyn laid a hand on Elba’s forearm. “We rise above. If any come calling, we can be cordial, but that’s all we need to be. We do not allow his desperation to dictate. Agreed?” She asked, searching the other’s faces.

  “Agreed.” Came back nearly in unison.

  In short order there seemed to be a revolving door at the household. Princes, and princes-in-waiting from kingdoms they had never heard of, arrived in droves. Each time they were cordial and hospitable, though often it made them run late. Before long, they were plying their would-be suitors with libations so as to make their escape. Unfortunately, it often left Elba with the responsibility to eject them when they woke.

  On several occasions, fights erupted as the posturing at the household took on different dimensions. Those parties were asked to leave immediately. Still, there was a steady flow of interested males that came and went from the property day after day.

  Under any other circumstances, they might have caved for a few of the men, but they bolstered each other day by day. They were determined to hold fast. If Lyford honestly believed that his plan could work, he would be sorely mistaken.

  Wanderer

  When the cold winter months finally ended, Devlin could take no more. “Throw open the windows and beat out the blankets. I can smell a dozen different colognes, and none of them were that good solo.” He chirped too early one morning.

  “Devlin! We are trying to sleep.” Feraut called back drowsily.

  Devlin cocked out his hip and snapped in a zigzag. “Sleep when you’re dead sister. This place is disgusting. Anyone who doesn’t know what is going on here would think this is a brothel for all the men that come and go.”

  Several pillows launched from as many beds in his general direction. He was not moved. If anything, it spurned him on further. Racing the room, just out of reach, he ran past each bed and pulled the covers, taking them with him as he went to the next. “You don’t want your pillows, you don’t need your blankets. Move it ladies, move it!”

  “Devlin!!” Raven shouted as he reached her bed, jumping out to block his path. They dissolved into a heap amid fits of giggles.

  “What?!” He demanded, winded from laughter. “Tell me you can stand this. It’s awful. And, it stinks. Can’t you smell it? If my nose had a nose it would be offended.”

  “Enough drama-queen.” Shara interjected, grabbing her blanket from the pile and turning to head back to bed. “We know. It stinks. You can’t stand it. But, we’re tired. Let. Us. Sleep.”

  Elba appeared in the doorway as she finished. “Breakfast is ready.”

  Devlin sashayed over to Elba, pecked her on the cheek, and grinned. “They don’t need breakfast. Evidently, they need their beauty sleep.”

  “Be nice.”

  “Oh Elba… That was nice.” Devlin countered before moving past her toward the stairs.

  Elba swatted back, catching his hip with her fingertips. “Don’t think you’re too big…” She teased.

  Devlin cocked out his hip, leaning forward on a twist. “Do it again.”

  “I don’t know who you think you’re playing with. Don’t tempt me.”

  Closer to home, wandering along the border between the Rousseau and Coeur d’Alene properties, a young man encountered a sorceress who was out in the woods. “What business do you have here?” She inquired as he neared.

  “I’m only passing through.” He answered, offering no other information.

  “Through to where?” She queried further.

  “To the home of the twelve princesses.”

  “Are you a prince?”

  “Not exactly.”

  She studied him with her head cocked sideways. “How exactly does one become, not exactly, a prince?”

  Figuring that he was unlikely to escape without elaboration, he elected to tell his tale, get it over with, and be able to move on toward his destination. “I am the fourth son of seven to King Hébert. Does that make me a prince? Yes. And no. My eldest brother is the prince, or…” He shrugged, “now the King.”

  “So you are a prince.” She grinned brightly.

  “I am an outcast. There, I was a prince. Here, now, I’m just a man… A man with no kingdom, no home, and no future. As none yet have been able to sway any of the promised princesses, my shot is as good as any.” He finished his tale, turning to leave.

  “Perhaps I can help you.” She said, stunning him.

  “Why would you do that?”

  “Do you know where you are?”

  “Roughly.”

  “You are in their kingdom. Should I not want to see one of them, any of them, marry and return someday?”

  “I suppose.” He replied cautiously, turning back.

  When he faced her, she produced a cloak. “Take this, but do not go to their home. Go to Logan’s. There you will find them. Wear this to observe them first. See if any strike your fancy. The promise of wealth and a kingdom is a poor replacement for a person.”

  Arigany made his way to the Lost Lounge. He entered just as the twelve were performing in showcase in the main room. From beneath the cloak he stared as each one moved to the head of the stage. Each was more beautiful than the last, but when the last came, he could not look away.

  It wasn’t the shock of pink hair that held his attention. Nor, was it the costume. It might have been the fluid movements, but even those he could ignore. There was something about the twelfth princess that held him riveted.

  Night after night he returned. And, night after night, he couldn’t help but drift from room to room to wherever the one called Devlin was. She was intoxicating, but she was also something more. He was nearly certain what it was, but filled with just enough doubt. Completely infatuated, Arigany began collecting bits…costume bits that he’d notice drift down as Devlin performed.

  Eventually, deep down, he knew the truth. While an extremely good female impersonation was happening before his eyes, he doubted vehemently that Devlin was a princess. But, what were the chances he would be interested in return? The act, the doting female act was convincing, but could it be real? Or, was he just that good of a showman? How could Arigany find out?

  Lap Dances

  Arigany finally ditched the cloak. Determined not to act in haste, he spent the next weeks observing each of the princesses. From the room with the private alcoves, he attempted to engage them each in conversation. Sadly, while pleasant, none held his attention.

  When at last he spoke to Devlin, something shifted. “You are quite limber.” He said, silently chastising himself for the cliché comment.

  “Call it good genes…” Devlin teased, trailing a long finger down Ari’s forearm. “You look like you could be limber too.”

  “Not like you.” Ari countered, reaching up to return the gesture. “You’re beautiful.”

  “Hands on the chair lover.” Devlin commanded, pulling back slightly.

  “Is that how this works?”

  Devlin waved in the air. “Works, doesn’t work, doesn’t matter. Those are the rules.”

  Ari was intrigued. “So you can touch me, but I can’t touch you?” He clarified.

  “That’s the deal, handsome.”

  “Then show me what you’ve got.” He challenged.

  Unwittingly, Devlin rose to the bait. It was probably the best lap dance he had ever given. Skimming over the flesh of the handsome stranger, Devlin was lost to the sensations, and his thoughts. He’d seen this man in the club before, but with his sisters, or the other dancers. He couldn’t say for sure how many times the patron had come in. He’d noticed him often, but never interacted with him up close, assuming the he just wasn’t interested.

  Devlin realized too late that somewhere in the middle of the dance he had crossed a line. His physical response was going to prevent him from finishing, or just might mean him finishing if he wasn’t careful. Unable to do anything else, he rose, turned, and finished the dance backwards, twisting around to place a peck on the man’s cheek
before leaving. “That one’s on me, lover.” He whispered before dashing off.

  Back in the dressing room, he grabbed the first of his sisters that he saw. Just his luck it was Destry. “I have a problem.”

  She rolled her eyes as she responded. “I’ve known that for years. What do you think your problem is?”

  Gesturing his hips with both hands, his problem was evident. “This.”

  “What did you do?” She challenged in shock.

  “I did my job. I did a dance. I did…” He shrugged, “nothing out of the ordinary.”

  “If that’s the ordinary, how is it that you still have a job as a dancing princess?” Destry challenged, grabbing Layla and Kayla to help surround Devlin. “We have a problem.”

  “What…” They began before they noticed. “Wow. Go big or go home, huh?”

  “Very funny. What do I do?”

  Raven poked her head between her sisters just then. “What do you normally do when that happens?”

  Devlin rolled his eyes. “Don’t make a fuss about this. This doesn’t normally happen.”

  “Never?”

  “Of course not, never! It would take an act of the Goddess to undo the precautions. I have the tightest little G-string of anyone in this club, plus a pair of booty shorts one size too small underneath the pair you can see to prevent this from happening. Yes, never!”

  “Okay… Then what do you normally do when that happens and you’re not wearing three layers of clothes?” Raven asked sounding irritated.

  Devlin tapped his foot, slammed both fists on his hips, and shrieked incoherently. “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you? This doesn’t happen to me.” He eyeballed her hard. “There, do you get it now?”