Tiara- Part Two

by Robin Roseau

  “No, Princess, you do not.” At that, he nodded. “People talk.”

  “They do, indeed, talk.”

  “Not everyone feels welcoming to this relationship, but maybe it isn’t serious.”

  “Mr. Engella, if you were going to wager over my suitors, I would suggest you place short wagers against the men and much longer wagers against any women who appear on the list. Unless something drastic changes politically, forcing me in a direction I do not prefer, I will eventually marry a woman. When it becomes time for children, my friends north of our border can help with that. Is that what you wanted to know, Mr. Engella?”

  “Well, yes, but it isn’t really about what I wanted to know so much as what I needed to know before making an offer.”

  “You owe me nothing, Mr. Engella, but if you wish to suggest a suitor, you should have a conversation with Mother.”

  “I am fairly certain a request to meet with her would be answered by someone very lowly, in the negative.”

  “I couldn’t say,” I said. “Is that what this is about?”

  “No. Princess Darfelsa, rumors fly.”

  “Such is the nature of rumors.”

  “You would, perhaps, profit if some of those rumors were phrased in the appropriate light.”

  “And?”

  “And I am in a position to do that.” He nodded. “I didn’t want to do so in the wrong direction.”

  “Mr. Engella, you owed me nothing more than the thank you that you already provided, but I cannot be in a position of owing you, either.”

  “Perhaps I can simply speak positively about a young woman I believe I should respect.”

  “I did almost nothing.”

  “You asked a question,” he said. “But you did more than almost nothing. You came to me, and then you accepted me here, a man of storied reputation.” He smiled. “Your Father is well-served by you.”

  “And my sister after him,” I said.

  His smile broadened. “You won’t be marrying yourself off to be a good little princess.”

  “No, Mr. Engella. I most certainly will not.”

  “Good. That’s good. But there will be children?”

  “Yes, when the time is right.”

  “I wouldn’t wait too long, once married,” he replied. He paused. “The people will not believe the children are yours if you do not carry them.”

  “I know,” I replied.

  “Would it be taken amiss if I were to quietly support Ms. Robella’s suit?”

  “No, Mr. Engella, it wouldn’t.” I offered a smile. “Is that what we’re really here to talk about?”

  “Well, and I thought a thank you was more meaningful when delivered in person.”

  He picked up his tea and finished it. I did the same with mine. Then he smiled. “I find myself somewhat overwhelmed.”

  “Do you?”

  “If, just a few weeks ago, someone had said I’d have a private meeting in the palace with you, I would have accused him of being daft.” I offered a laugh. “Could I ask one more question?”

  “Of course.”

  “Why were you so open with me, just now?”

  “Because nothing I’m doing is in secret, Mr. Engella. If anyone else were to ask me the same sort of questions, they would get the same sort of answers. Did you have anything else?”

  “No, Your Highness. Thank you for your time.”

  We both stood, and then I offered him my arm. I think it surprised him, but he took it, and I led him to the library door. One of Sergeant Felist’s guards opened it as we approached. “Thank you, Mr. Engella.” I handed him out the door into the care of another guard and then watched as the two walked away. Then I stepped backwards into the room and nodded. The doors closed again. I stood a moment. “Well.”

  Mariya stepped to my side and set her hand on my shoulder. I smiled at her. “Interesting meeting,” she said.

  “Just so,” I agreed. “Just so, Mariya.”

  * * * *

  I promised to mention two examples of minor tasks Father gave me. It was quite typical for me to be assigned tasks in the fashion of this one: that is, during our morning meeting, when something came up. I might be assigned a task during a meeting with the ministers. Or, as in the other I’ll describe more fully, during Open Court.

  Father held court in several different manners. We might be called to court to accept a foreign ambassador; this, of course, was uncommon, as ambassadors didn’t change at all often. Father could also call everyone to court to make a major announcement.

  But once a month, Father also held what he called Open Court. Open Court was when Father accepted petitions from any Flarvorian. If one were suitably connected, one could petition the crown through less crowded means, but the average person had no such connections. This was not typically where one brought disputes with a neighbor; those were typically handled by the courts. But anyone could, for instance, come to Open Court for any issue that really should rise to Father’s attention, or at the very least, to someone from the palace.

  The order of presentation for Open Court was assigned randomly, with no consideration for rank or position. The only precedence was given to people who hadn’t been able to present their case in previous months. If this were the third time to attend court, hoping to see Father, then the individual jumped ahead of people who had waited less time.

  When I was younger, I had attended Open Court inconsistently. Frankly, listening to people drone on and on, or so it seemed, grew dull. But as an adult, it became my duty to attend each month. And so I did.

  I dressed in my finery. Today, it was a white gown with silver edging. I wore my tiara, woven into my hair, and gloves that matched the gown. I knew Mother and Ahlianna would be dressed similarly.

  The four of us then gathered before descending, taking a back, private staircase, and approached Court from an equally private corridor. There, Mother turned to us, each in turn, and made minor adjustments to our appearances.

  The door ahead was closed, but we could hear the audience. I knew inside would be Father’s staff, but also present, seated at a table to the side, would be Ms. Pelonden, to serve my needs, and one of Ahlianna’s secretaries, or perhaps more than one.

  Father looked into Mother’s eyes then said, “All right, then.”

  We would enter singly, in reverse order of authority, with Father and Mother as a pair. I gave my own nod and stepped to the door.

  A signal passed. And from inside, I heard the pounding of a staff against the floor, and Father’s herald announced, “Princess Darfelsa.” Before me, both doors opened, and I stepped through.

  It was traditional for the audience to offer a greeting for me, and they did, although not in unison. They voiced their approval as I climbed the rear steps to the dais, growing louder as they saw all of me. I smiled and waved, walking as regally as I could forward, then a circuit of the dais, allowing all to see. I smiled at Ms. Pelonden, smiling up at me and making as much noise as anyone else.

  And then I walked to stand before my seat and turned sideways.

  There was a pause, and then Ahlianna was announced. Her welcome was even louder, or so I imagined. She walked the stage, stopping by me to offer cheek kisses in the Ressaline style. “I love you, Little Sister,” she said before stepping away to finish her circuit, eventually taking the furthest seat from me.

  There was a longer pause this time before the herald announced Mother and Father together. When they stepped forward, Mother held Father’s arm, and I decided that she remained the most beautiful, gracious woman of our entire country. This time, the audience was definitely louder; my parents were quite popular. They did a similar circuit, and I received small affection from both Mother and Father, and then Ahlianna did, before they moved to their seats. They sat together, and then Ahlianna and I together.

  And then Father held up his hand. It took a moment for them to quiet down, but it was Mother who said, “Thank you. We know there’s a long queue, so we’re not goin
g to sit here all morning while you display your pleasure.”

  They laughed at that. Open Court could host very serious matters, but the general tone was usually light, as much as it could be.

  “Let us begin,” Mother added.

  Father’s staff worked efficiently. They moved people into the room before their turn but then moved them back out immediately afterwards, making room for others. And so there were no lengthy delays.

  People could petition Father in Open Court for any reason, any reason at all. If one can imagine a reason someone might wish a moment of Father’s time, someone had probably attended Open Court for just such a reason. And so, the petitions were as typical as any others.

  It was a trio, two men and a woman. They had a trivial wish, for the king to help resolve a disagreement. “We have a new fishing boat, and it needs a name,” explained one man. “I want to call it The Green Gulf. My brother wishes to call it The Blue Belle.”

  There were chuckles around the room. Father smiled and asked, “And who is this woman who stands with you?”

  “My wife, Your Majesty,” said the brother. “Ilsavael.”

  Father crooked a finger. “Step up here, Madam.”

  She looked unsure of herself, but she left her husband’s side and climbed the two steps, coming to a stop before Father and offering a fresh, deep, prolonged, and entirely unnecessary curtsey. “Rise,” Father told her.

  He smiled again, but it was Mother who said, “You have the most beautiful, blue eyes.”

  “My husband does not attempt to name the boat after my eyes,” the woman replied, “but that of our young daughter.” But then she lowered her voice, and I strained to hear. “They’ve been fighting over the name for months. Your Majesty, my sister-in-law would be very jealous if you choose my husband’s choice.”

  Father nodded very slightly. It was Mother who said, “Take one step backwards, but only one, and then answer for all to hear, if you can.” The woman nodded and took her step.

  I think Father signaled Ahlianna, for she was the one who said, “There are three petitioners, but only two names. I would ask, Madam, if you had a third choice.”

  “I’m not the fisherman,” replied the woman, and no, she didn’t answer for all to hear.

  “And yet, it is your family that will use this fine boat,” Ahlianna said. “Do you have a name to propose?”

  The woman looked around, I thought nervously, but Mother said, only loud enough for her those closest to hear, “If you have a name, please offer it.”

  The woman looked at her and nodded. Then she straightened and said, “The Safe Blessing.”

  Father looked at Mother. Mother smiled at him but then turned to Ahlianna.

  “Mr. Marshdown!” Ahlianna said firmly. “Are there other boats registered as The Safe Blessing?”

  I didn’t think Bellard was prepared with that name, as it took him a few seconds to answer. But he was prepared, having the registry of boats and ships readily available. “That particular name appears to be available, Your Highness.”

  “Gentlemen,” Ahlianna asked, “I am rather fond of this name, but I am not the one who would be upon the open water. Could you be proud of such a craft?”

  The two men considered each other, and then they answered together. “Yes, Your Highness.”

  “Well then,” Ahlianna said. “With your blessing, Father, we have our name. Three cheers for The Safe Blessing, and the people she shall carry.”

  The audience gave their cheers. Mother said something to the woman that I didn’t hear this time, and then one of Bellard’s staff hurried the three away.

  The next petitions also came in three, or perhaps the real count is four. There was a woman, perhaps Ahlianna’s age, and her parents. The young woman was quite visibly with child, but it was her mother who spoke. “Your Majesty, would you bless this birth?”

  “We would be delighted,” Father immediately declared. “Could we ask about the father?”

  “He’s a good man,” said the woman. “He is working hard to make a good home for his family.”

  “We shan’t ask you to climb these stairs,” Mother said. She stood, Father with her, and together they descended to the expecting woman. Mother actually knelt down before the woman. “May I touch?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  Mother set her hand on the woman’s stomach, then leaned forward and kissed her, well, kissed the front of her dress, over the child. Then Father added his hand and said, “We bless this birth and wish the new child a long, happy life.”

  Mother offered a second little kiss before standing, and I saw tears, but not in the young woman: in her father. They turned to go, but I called out, “Wait, please.” I then hurried down the steps. Like Mother had, I knelt and kissed the new mother, then stood. I caressed her cheek, then her mother’s, and then stepped to the father. I caressed his cheek as well and said, “Congratulations, Grandfather.”

  He offered a smile. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

  * * * *

  Three people later, a husband and wife stepped to the front, the mother guiding a girl of perhaps seven years. “Our daughter, Mariona, wishes to offer a pledge of loyalty.”

  This wasn’t something that was necessary for the common classes. It was something required of the lords and other officials, of course, but not for the base born. Still, it was sweet, and it wasn’t the first time someone came to Open Court to offer such a pledge.

  “We are warmed,” Father said. “Young miss, step up here.” But then he gestured to me, and so I rose and offered my hand. She gave me hers, and I led her to Father.

  “You should kneel,” I whispered.

  “I know,” she said. And she did just that, then pulled a small sheet of paper from her belt. It was rolled up and crinkled, but she unrolled it. I crouched down, but I wasn’t going to kneel in my gown.

  “If you can,” I whispered, “speak loudly enough so at least those nearest can hear, but don’t yell. If only the five of us hear you, that’s okay, too.”

  She looked over at me and offered a little smile. “You’re very pretty.”

  “Thank you. Are you ready?”

  She nodded, bent her head, and then read the pledge. She read it well, and while no, the closest in the audience probably didn’t hear her, the five of us did, and quite clearly.

  “Thank you so much, Little Miss,” Father said. And then I stood, helping to steady the girl as she did, too.

  But then I glanced at Father and flicked my eyes to my sister. He offered a subtle nod, so I leaned and whispered to the girl, “Would you offer the same pledge to the future queen, my sister?”

  The girl looked at me. Then she looked at Ahlianna, then back to me. “She’s the next queen.”

  “Yes,” I said. “After Father, a long time from now. But could you offer your pledge today?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “All right. Do it the same way, but where you said, ‘My King’, can you say ‘My Future Queen’?”

  “Yes, Your Highness.”

  “You’re a smart girl,” I said. And then I guided her to Ahlianna, who looked a little surprised.

  When the girl knelt again, the audience began talking, but under their breaths. Ahlianna accepted the vow, then stood. I stepped back, and it was Ahlianna who guided the girl to her feet, and Ahlianna who hugged her, kissing a cheek and whispering something. Then she turned the girl to face the audience. “I would like to present Mariona Dadove, loyal subject of Flarvor.”

  * * * *

  I had little involvement for the rest of the morning. It was shortly after the lunchtime break that Father assigned me my task.

  A well-dressed gentleman stepped forward. It took only a moment to identify him as a merchant. “This is Ailmar Norvaris, Your Majesty.”

  “Mr. Norvaris,” Father said. “What can we do for you today?”

  He offered a bow. “Your Majesty, I wish to formally lodge a complaint against the government of Ressaline.�
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  That got my attention, and Father glanced my way. “Interesting,” Father replied. “I am unsure this is the proper venue. Can you briefly explain your complaint?”

  “I can try, Your Majesty. I have been attempting to renew my family’s longstanding business in Charth.”

  “Your accent suggests you are Flarvorian.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty. My family has long engaged in trade with Charthan, which came to a sudden end a decade and a half ago. In light of improved relationships between our country and the occupiers, I have attempted to renew our trade.”

  “And what is your trade?”

  “Artwork and antiquities,” the man replied.

  “I shan’t attempt to guess your complaint,” Father said. “Please go on.”

  “I have thrice attempted to send my son with a wagon of sample goods in an attempt to reestablish our presence in Charth.” I sighed but said nothing. “Each time, he has been rebuffed, quite rudely, and most recently, much to his detriment.”

  “And it is for this behavior of your son that you wish to lodge a complaint?”

  “That is correct, Your Majesty.”

  “Has your son been tortured in some way?”

  “No, Your Majesty. But he was drugged, and most rudely at that, before being expelled back across the border. He was still recovering from the effects when finally he returned to us here in Barrish.”

  “I believe I understand,” said Father. “Princess Darfelsa, do you have anything to say on this matter?”

  “Perhaps a thing or two, Father,” I replied, somewhat tight-lipped.

  “Our daughter has spent three years assigned to our embassy in Charth,” Father reminded the court. “We could not be blessed with someone more conversant with the laws and customs of Ressaline. What would you say about this man’s complaint?”

  I considered my father, and then the merchant. From his expression, I wasn’t sure he was pleased Father had passed this to me, but there was nothing he could do about that. “Mr. Norvaris,” I said, “when your son first attempted to travel into Ressaline, was he aware that the Ressalines had evicted all the men when they annexed our neighbor?”