Tiara- Part Two

by Robin Roseau

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m just… Thank you.” He whispered the last words.

  “We’ll talk about that later, but if I don’t hear my name, you can attend the show without me.”

  He laughed. “I hope you enjoy it, Darfelsa. It is supposed to be quite amusing.” He paused. “I might be taking a risk.”

  “Oh, it’s one of those shows,” I said. “I should tell you about a place in Dennaholst called Bashful.”

  “What an intriguing name.”

  “It is, isn’t it.” I transferred his hand to my arm. “I’ll explain about it on the way.”

  He loved the story.

  The show was quite funny, and only a little bit naughty, not remotely on a par with the antics of Alexi Chante. I had a lovely time. Peral was attentive and charming. In the carriage later, I thanked him, and then back at the palace, I invited him inside. We returned to the library. I didn’t call for tea, but I led him to the sofa, and we both sat.

  “I want a serious conversation,” I said. “Do you mind?”

  “No.”

  “I’d like to ask what you think about my time away from Barrish.”

  “I’m not sure what you’re asking, Darfelsa.”

  “Father didn’t ship me to Charth just to hide me away.”

  “Now I’m even more confused.”

  “There are some who are probably critical that I was in Ressaline for three years, far from potential suitors.”

  “I imagine you were in Charth, gaining experience you couldn’t find here. And then you used that experience in Dennaholst. I don’t really have any details.”

  “What do you think of that?”

  “And we’re back to a question I don’t understand.”

  “Are you shocked?”

  He paused. “I think I understand now.” He paused, then nodded. “And I think I’m catching up a little more.”

  “I’d like to know what you think, when you’re ready.”

  “This is about more than wondering whether a potential suitor would support you in your duties.”

  “I suppose it is.”

  “You’re asking how I feel that your duties are more than ceremonial.”

  “Just so.”

  “We wouldn’t be having this conversation if you were the prince.”

  “No, probably not.”

  “I couldn’t care less about that particular distinction,” he said. “I am heartened that you serve your father and our country so well. You don’t need my approval, but you have it, Darfelsa.”

  “Thank you.” I paused. “Peral, I will not be rushing into marriage.”

  “Darfelsa.”

  “For now, I am accepting suitors largely because Mother insists, and she has good reasons, most of them having to do with the expectations of others. You, I like. But I see this as an enhancement to my social calendar. I would enjoy if my calendar would remain enhanced, but that is all it is, and I am unsure I am worth your time.”

  “I see.” He said nothing for a moment before asking, “As long as we’re speaking plainly.”

  “Of course.”

  “Is my age a factor?”

  “We’re having this conversation because I was deeply uncomfortable with some sort of sham act. Anyone who receives more of my attention than an afternoon or evening will probably experience the same conversation with me. But if you wish to remain on my social calendar, it should be because you enjoy your time with me, not because you hope for my hand.”

  “I think it’s my turn for honesty.”

  “You find me immature and flighty, and you’re wondering why you’re here?”

  “No,” he said. “I find you quite entrancing, which I think you know. I asked your mother for a favor.”

  “She told me you were once very kind to her.”

  “I have become, increasingly so, a social oddity, an eccentric. That has been accelerating. But now I was seen by the entire town with you beside me.”

  “Which makes you a different sort of oddity.”

  “I have not had this lovely an evening in a half decade or more, Darfelsa.”

  “I enjoyed it as well.”

  “I don’t want to take positions in your social schedule that you would rather were offered in other directions.”

  “You’re not.”

  “Then, at least for now, we could continue.”

  “I would like that,” I said. “Do you dance?”

  “I do.”

  “Perhaps take me dancing next time, unless you encounter an even better idea.”

  “An evening dancing with you would be most divine,” he replied.

  “I believe Mother also has you on the list for an upcoming event, but I don’t know which one or whether invitations have gone out. I might be vexed if you bring someone.”

  He smiled. “I believe I understand.”

  “Excellent.” I stood, offered my arm, and escorted him to the palace foyer. At the door, I gave him a little tug, set a hand on one cheek, and then kissed the other. “I did have a lovely time.”

  “As did I.”

  * * * *

  The details varied. With some of the men, after our second encounter, I knew I wouldn’t want many more, and so I didn’t hold that particular conversation. Instead, I accepted one more invitation from them before gently sending them in different directions. With others, I thought allowing them more of my time would be enjoyable, and we had that same conversation, with only a difference in minor details. Each of them was gracious, and none chose to forego whatever opportunity time with me provided them.

  My time with Shalendra was definitely different. She didn’t get any speeches. She did get more kisses, and for now, she remained on the list.

  But then something startling happened.

  * * * *

  “Darfelsa, your mother requests you attend her in her parlor.”

  I looked up. “Does she say why?”

  “No. She only asks that you take no more delay than necessary to appear presentable. Stand up.” I smiled and accepted Renishta’s inspection. She made a few adjustments. “There. Or was that her way of saying you should go change.”

  “If she wanted me to change, she wouldn’t have asked me to come immediately,” I said. “I’ll go see what she wants.”

  I didn’t have to knock. There was a page waiting outside Mother’s door, and as I approached, he opened the door then closed it behind me. Mother was standing in my path, waiting for me. She said nothing but simply turned to her right. I followed her gaze. She wasn’t alone.

  “Gretchena,” I whispered.

  “I’ll be outside,” she said. “Or you can take her somewhere else.”

  “I’d rather you stayed,” I said. I approached my former lover. “You look good.”

  “Darfelsa.”

  “What are you doing here? I thought your life was in Charth.”

  “I made a mistake.”

  “I wanted to marry you!” I screamed. “I was such a fool.”

  “I made the biggest mistake of my life,” she replied. “I should have gone with you. When you left without saying ‘goodbye’, and no one would tell me why, I was miserable.”

  “Poor thing.”

  “Mother finally asked me what was going on, and then she explained what I had done.”

  “You told me, in no uncertain terms, you weren’t interested in a life with me. Well, guess what? My life in Charth was temporary. Apparently, so was our relationship.”

  “Darfelsa,” she whined.

  “I am the Princess of Flarvor, my father’s daughter, my sister’s sister. I have duties, and they don’t leave me in Charth. I was a fool to think you would want to leave your life to attach yourself to me. I don’t know what you’re doing here now, but I’m not sure I care.”

  That was when mother stepped up to my right flank. She set her hand on my shoulder. I turned to look at her. I’m sure my pain showed in my face. “I think you do care,” she said gently.

 
; “She’s just upset because she didn’t get a chance to have a practice challenge with me,” I said. “I was nothing but an interesting playmate.”

  “That’s not fair,” Gretchena said firmly. “I love you.”

  “Well, you have a life, and you have duties, and I have a life, and I have duties, and they don’t appear to be compatible.”

  “They could be.”

  “No, Gretchena, they can’t. I truly was a fool. Unless they lose a permanent challenge, it is not the nature of the women of Ressaline to submit themselves to someone else’s life. And that’s what it means if we’re going to have a life. It means you fit your life around mine the same way Bee and Dee fit theirs around Lady Olivia’s life.”

  “I should have gone to Gandeet with you. I made a mistake, Darfelsa, the biggest mistake of my life.”

  “Your automatic reaction was to tell me, ‘I have a life here’. Perhaps you should trust your initial instincts.”

  “I was wrong. I’m here now. I’m prepared to…”

  “You are way, way, way too late,” I told her. “It’s been a year and a half. Do you think I’ve been pining away for you? I’ve moved on. And you should, too. Charth is north. I’m sure you can find it.”

  And then I turned around, away from her, away from Mother, and purposefully strode from Mother’s parlor. In the hallway, I began running all the way back to my own quarters. I held back the sobs.

  Barely.

  * * * *

  Mother and Ahlianna found me about an hour later. I was lying in bed, reading. I didn’t even roll over to look at them when they stepped in. Mother climbed up onto the bed. Ahlianna stepped around, took the book from me, then pushed me towards Mother before climbing in up the other side. I found myself the middle of a tight sandwich, them on their sides, facing me, and me on my back, both of them pressed against me. They each took a hand.

  They waited for me to speak. “Is she on her way north?”

  “Not yet,” Mother replied.

  “Darfelsa, she made a mistake,” Ahlianna said.

  “We can agree on that,” I said hotly.

  “We’re not here to talk you into anything, but are you sure you don’t want to forgive her?”

  “There’s nothing to forgive. The only thing she’s guilty of is having a better grasp of the nature of our relationship than I had.”

  “I’m not sure that’s accurate,” Ahlianna replied. “Your thinking was ahead of hers, but it wasn’t ahead of Holliahta’s.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “She and I talked about it, indirectly, years ago. She talked about social standing, and asked me to help her with that.”

  “They don’t think about things like that.”

  “In a way, you’re right, but in a way, you’re wrong. Her family wasn’t on the list to receive invitations to events at Government House or our embassy. In a way, that’s social standing. It’s just not as stratified as it is here.”

  I rolled my head. “That’s why-”

  “It’s not the entire reason, but yes.”

  “Ahlianna…” But she squeezed my hand and flicked her eyes past me to Mother, who had never been told whose Ahlianna’s First had been. I nodded understanding. “Well,” I said. “I imagine those invitations dried up.”

  “Undoubtedly.”

  “I explained about suitors,” Mother said from my other side. I turned back to look at the ceiling. “She asked what she had to do to be added to the list.”

  “I imagine that was an interesting conversation.”

  “I told her I would consider it.”

  “Well, you can stop considering.”

  “Do you still love her?” Mother asked.

  “You can’t possibly prefer her over anyone else. Why would you ask that?”

  “I want you to be happy, Darfelsa. Do you still love her?”

  “Of course I still love her!” I blurted. “But that’s not enough. I’ve moved on.” I shook my head. “It was a huge, huge mistake to travel through Ressaline on the way to Dennaholst. I had fights with everyone, and I was still burning when I arrived. And then I had more fights with everyone, and I wasn’t remotely in the right condition to respond properly. I’m convinced I would have handled that with far less confrontation, but I was itching for a fight.”

  “Well,” Ahlianna said. “That was exactly the right attitude.”

  “It could have been an utter disaster.”

  “Yes, it could have. But instead, you were perfect.”

  “No. Prime Minister Githien defused the situation. It wasn’t me.”

  Ahlianna pulled my chin towards her. I didn’t fight her. “This is a side issue to the reason Mother and I are here, but listen to me. It is deeply unlikely they would have taken you seriously if you hadn’t been as firm as you were. It was not the time to smile and follow expectations.”

  “I’ve received more credit than is owed me. I’m guilty of what Minister Silmarion accused me, of being emotional.”

  “You may have arrived still hurt and angry, Little Sister,” Ahlianna said. “But let’s hit the high points. You arrived to discover one of the embassy staff,” and she said that word carefully, “had promoted himself into a position that requires credentials from Father, credentials he didn’t have.”

  “He was outplayed.”

  “Which you also identified,” she said. “That doesn’t matter. He should have known better. The Gandeetians certainly did. That’s why they didn’t take him seriously. You didn’t correctly guess Father’s reaction. Father wasn’t simply annoyed; he was incensed, absolutely incensed. But you got word to him ahead of time so Mother and I had time to calm him down so he could act coldly, rather than hotly. You handled that part absolutely, positively correctly.”

  I nodded. “But I nearly shut down the embassy. I would have done it, Ahlianna. I would have.”

  “Yes, but you’re getting ahead of me. Next. I checked on this. Do you know the longest Father has made someone wait to present diplomatic credentials?”

  “No. I remember a few diplomats have stood in court, still dusty from travels.”

  “Father will reschedule almost anything to accept diplomatic credentials,” Ahlianna said. “It doesn’t take that long. He prefers to do it in open court, when he can, but he’ll do whatever he can to accept them within an hour of a new diplomat registering a request to do so. If it’s hurried and can’t be done in court, then they get presented twice, once privately but still officially, and then again, as soon as can be done more formally. But they’ve already been accepted. That’s just a little bit of ceremony for everyone else.”

  “I’m not sure I knew that.”

  “So I checked. Well, I asked Minister Roddish to check for me. I wanted the history of all our diplomats going back one hundred years. We’ve had a few that have had to wait as long as three days. Typically, everyone else, including the Gandeetians, have treated our diplomats the way Father treats theirs. They receive an invitation within six hours. It was a deliberate insult, and the prime minister was part of it.”

  I thought about that. “Not necessarily.”

  “Oh, I think so,” she said.

  “It could have been scheming on Mr. Epseen’s part. He may have known exactly the right way to gain me a delayed audience. He may not have presented it to the prime minister’s staff, but to Minister Silmarion. And he may have undermined me with him besides.”

  Ahlianna swore but then said, “Well, we don’t know that. You’re right. That’s another explanation, and I hadn’t even considered it, but it’s as likely as mine. Either way, you threw a fit, but not as large as one as I might have. You got your audience. Now, can you imagine Father’s reaction if Minister Silmarion had said to him the things he said to you?”

  “He wouldn’t have started a war over it.”

  “He would have vacated the embassy that afternoon. His response would not have been diplomatic, and he knows it, which is one reason he doesn’t tend to
go on diplomatic missions himself.”

  “Yes, well…”

  “Sister, you achieved Father’s goals, and you did so in a fashion that lets you take much of the credit. Yes, Prime Minister Githien is deserving of some credit as well. But identifying the critical trade goods and then making a plan for them, was what it took. You let them know you weren’t bluffing, and forced them to take you seriously. But then you turned around and showed them how absolutely reasonable you can be when treated fairly. So. Can we put that issue to bed, once and for all?”

  “All right.”

  “Good. Gretchena.”

  “I’ve moved on.” Possibly twice, but that was premature.

  “She’s here, and she loves you,” Ahlianna said.

  “She just misses dinner and dancing at Lady Olivia’s.”

  “That not why she’s here.”

  “It’s partly why she’s here,” I said.

  “A life with us comes with a cost,” Ahlianna said. “And it comes with rewards.”

  “Yes, well, it took her a year and a half to realize that.”

  “No, it didn’t,” Ahlianna replied. “It took a year and a half for you to be here long enough for her to receive word and make the journey.”

  “She could have written,” I said. “She could have followed me to Gandeet. She did neither. To: Darfelsa, Flarvorian Embassy in Gandeet. Dear Darfelsa, I made a horrible, horrible mistake. Please, may I come? I love you with my entire soul. Gretchena the Contrite.”

  “You love her,” Mother said.

  “Yes, but it hurts to even think about her.” I rolled to face her. “If I relent now, I’m going to spend my time hurt because it took her this long. In the meantime, whenever we fight, or whenever she wants something, she’s going to bring up how she gave up her entire life for me, and don’t I owe her?” I shook my head. “I’ve moved on. I don’t know why you’re trying to talk me into changing my mind.”

  “We’re not,” she replied. “She’s asking for a second chance. If we send her away, that’s it. We’re only trying to make sure you’ve thought this through.”

  “Do you think I haven’t wondered what I’d say if she showed up? I spent the first few months hoping she’d come to me. She didn’t, and she didn’t write, either. It’s too late by a year.”