by Brina Cary
“Darren, get Daniel on the line.” Daniel would be able to tell him what Edinburgh was up to, what the plans for Amelia would be. That would give him a way to fight what was to come. A way to prepare for the danger ahead.
Looking back down at Amelia, he could only hope that Amelia shared her mother’s spirit. They would need her to fight. It was time that he began making plans of his own. The promise to Brandir was so much more than the others believed. That promise would cost Amelia her life if not kept. Would Jacob be able to keep it?
Just how much of the future had Brandir seen when he made him swear what he had? Would he know that Amelia would be so beautiful? She was. Beautiful. Even as a frumpy mess, she was still beautiful. A red tint to her brunette hair, hazel eyes with flecks of brown, and the lines on her face revealed that despite a past filled with loss, she laughed. Would she ever smile again when she learned what they had done? Would she ever laugh again when she realized she had been betrayed?
Chapter 4
Such a weird dream, she thought as she opened her eyes. However, the sight that greeted her caused her to go completely still. The room was massive. Her own room was a mere closet in comparison. The bed she was lying in was a wooden monstrosity with curtains latched to each of the posters of the headboard and footboard, allowing her to look around. Underneath her fingers, the bedspread felt like a heavy cotton one. Its lilac color contrasted perfectly with the gray stone walls. A fire was burning in the fireplace on the other side of the room. “Where in the world am I?”
A slight knock to the heavy wooden door caused her to jump. As she realized that she was in a nightgown, she pulled the covers tightly around her. Looking around, she saw that she had no place to hide. The door began to slowly creak open, the sound echoing upon the walls. A young woman wearing a pants suit entered. “Ah, the ma’am is finally awake. How do you feel?”
“Where am I?”
“You are in Balmour Castle.”
Balmour Castle? Was this lady crazy? There was no way she could be at Balmour Castle. No way. “Um… I very highly doubt that. That’s the Queen of England’s summer retreat. I was in Birmingham, Alabama. Not Birmingham, United Kingdom, so there’s no way I could be in Balmour Castle. You see, there’s a whole ocean between us.”
Standing by the door, the woman said, “Ma’am, my name is Edith.” While keeping her voice quiet, as if she was speaking to a wounded animal that might turn on her, she didn’t move from her spot. “I’ve been hired by the Scottish Nationalist Party to be your publicist. They figured that you would like an American. That you might better relate to an American, while you’re transitioning.”
Transitioning? What did she mean by that? What in the world was going on? Looking around once more, Amelia frowned. “I do not understand. Why would I need a publicist?” Wait… “The SNP?” That’s in Scotland. “Why am I in Scotland!?!” A round of coughing erupted from her as she tried to move too quickly.
Edith took a quick step forward, holding her hands up. “Please keep calm. There’s no need to upset your lungs. The doctor finally took you off oxygen a few hours ago when it was for certain that you would wake without any further trouble.”
“You need to either explain why I’m here or let me go immediately.” She lowered her voice and narrowed her eyes. This had to be a joke. A sick joke, but a joke nonetheless.
“I think it’s better if I show you. You are at Balmour Castle. It was purchased two days ago, by Scotland. Please stand, slowly now, and wrap yourself up in the blanket. It is very cold outside.” She did as she was told. Slowly because the dizziness was still upon her. “Now, walk towards those doors. It’s a balcony. Go on, look outside.”
As she walked to the door, she realized that the woman wasn’t following her. Edith was trusting that she would see what she wanted her to see. Amelia’s stomach dropped, and reaching out, she took a deep breath. Things weren’t right. They weren’t right at all. Grasping the ornate door handle, she opened the door and stepped out into the morning sun.
The frigid air seemed to seep into her bones, blistering her skin. Yet the sun shone and the sky was bright. Not a hint of gray in sight, other than the stone of the balcony. It was a beautiful balcony too, with a light spattering of snowflakes on it. Lions had been etched within the stone itself. They appeared so lifelike that she half expected the stone creatures to jump up and begin prancing about, tossing their manes in regal fashion.
Sounds of people drew her closer to the side. Voices hushed, but excited stirred curiosity within her. Closing her eyes to prepare herself for what she might encounter, she took a step forward. Cautiously she grasped the balcony railing with one hand, tightening the blanket around her. Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes. Looking over the edge of the balcony, she stopped in shock, her eyes went wide.
So many people milling about. A sea of people melted together, colors blending, but one thing was for certain. Each person held a blue and white flag. The flag of Scotland.
They were talking amongst themselves. So many… Then they saw her. The sea of faces turned towards her, several people began pointing. Cheers rang out. Not knowing what to do she smiled and waved. Shouts of ‘Long live the queen’ rang out. She wrapped herself tighter in the blanket and stepped back inside.
Something was indeed wrong. The question would be just how wrong though. Fear still filled her. The intruders in her home had wanted something after all. They had wanted her. She didn’t understand. What did she have that Scotland wanted? Why were people shouting and chanting ‘Long live the queen’? Who was the queen? Had they mistaken her for someone else?
Turning, she noticed that Edith stood there calmly, waiting for her to speak. After a minute, with the cheers still ringing out, she frowned. Amelia took a moment to consider her words carefully. “Edith, please tell me what’s going on here. I’m feeling a little lost.” That was the understatement of the year… A little lost didn’t begin to describe what she was feeling. She was feeling confused, angry, and even a little snotty. Lost was just the tip of the iceberg.
“I tried to tell them that they needed to explain things to you, but they thought they needed to get you here first. They thought it best… Men, they always think they know what will be best…Amelia MacRory, I am truly sorry that I am the one that must break this to you. I wish there was someone else that could do it. Someone that could make this less scary for you… You see, you are the last surviving member of the line of Mary Queen of Scots.” Amelia watched as she struggled to find the words to continue. Of course she was the last of the line. It was a rumor that her father had told her as a child. Once she had lost her mother she did some genealogy and sure enough… the rumor had been true. She had known it for years though. What did this have to do with any of this? She watched as Edith took a deep breath, averting her eyes, “This afternoon you will be crowned Queen Amelia, the first, of Scotland.”
“I’m sorry, but did you say queen? As in ruler kind of queen.” There had to be some mistake. She couldn’t be queen of anything, much less of Scotland. She had to be at work in the morning. She had to meet Gen. They had plans to see a movie this weekend. Heck, she had a date Friday night. There was no way he would believe that she had to re-schedule because she was being crowned Queen of Scotland…
Edith took a small step towards her, still calm. “Yes, ma’am. Scotland is now free. They have decided to institute a constitutional monarchy to calm some of the pensioner’s fears. However, you will have more power than the Parliament. This is to ensure that the people are the most protected. You are the last of the line of Scottish monarchs from Mary. I wish they would have gone about this differently, but they have already told the people that you have accepted.”
They told a country that she had accepted? A country? Without even asking her first? What kind of people were they? Wait, when had they told the people she had accepted? “How long have I been out?”
“The guards brought you in via private plane from the United
States late yesterday afternoon. The doctor saw to you right away. They told the people that you were ill from the flight and might be indisposed for a few days.”
“Yet, they scheduled a crowning?”
Edith smiled. “It is a coronation ceremony, not a crowning. They scheduled it for this afternoon in hopes that you would be too weak to resist.”
“Well, they were smart on that account.” She was too weak to resist. Tired and weak. However, she was not tired enough to keep from trying to flee. “Unfortunately, I’m a little busy today. Things to do and all.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Got to find my way back to the States. So I best be going.”
Her guard went up as Edith stepped between her and the path to the door. Was she going to try to stop her? If Edith did, how would she be able to fight? She couldn’t fight. Not really. Her temper had been hidden long ago. Releasing it had harmed someone she loved, so she had buried it deep within. It was in a place so deep that nothing could bring it out. Not even someone trying to harm her. It was safer to keep it bottled up in a shatter proof container and buried at the bottom of the sea than to let it fester at the surface. However, there were still days that she could feel it, bubbling beneath the surface…
Edith quickly threw her hands up, as if trying to appear non-threatening. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but there’s no going back. The people need you. There’s no one else. Scotland is now an independent country. Really, there is no one else. If you do not accept, if you are not coronated, then war will erupt. Scotland is in a weakened state right now. They need a monarchy to negotiate with England. To show strength… The country will fail if you do not accept.”
Amelia went back to the bed and sat upon it. What little strength she had, seemed to be rapidly disappearing. “I cannot be queen. I have a date Friday. I didn’t really want to go cause it’s a blind date, but Gen says I have to. Says I’m getting too old. He won’t believe me if I tell him that I can’t make it because I’m now the queen of a different country… Hell, I don’t believe it.”
“I offer my sincerest apologies ma’am, but I do not think you’re going to make your date.” Amelia nodded as Edith sat beside her. “There will be many changes over the next few months, but for now it is time to get dressed. Then you must meet officially meet your guards and your entourage. We will also have to discuss the ceremony for later today.”
Entourage? Seriously, they were giving her an entourage? “Did they happen to raid my closet while they were kidnapping me from my home?” Anger still burned at that. “Otherwise, I do not have any clothes here.”
Edith stood and called out, “Bring them in.” The door opened and four maids entered carrying clothes on cedar wooden hangers. Two had dresses and one had a pantsuit. The last one had a skirt and jacket type suit. They were all dreary colors. Gray, black, and dark blue. All dark. Maybe it was meant to coordinate with her mood… “Unfortunately, the guards didn’t have time to pack your belongings.”
Guards? “Those guys were the guards?”
Edith ignored her interruption and continued, “We have procured a few things in the meantime; however, I have had your secretary schedule shopping time for tomorrow morning. It will allow you to get to know your people and it will show them that despite being an American you are willing to support your Scottish roots.”
She giggled at the absurdity of having a secretary. “I do not know what to do. I don’t know much about Scotland. I mean I know it’s history, but I don’t know much about modern events. I can’t be a good leader if I don’t know what they need.” She couldn’t be a leader at all. Much less a leader of Scotland. Its history was full of bloodshed, love, and loss. The people had fought for everything they had and had never been given anything. Had much changed? Or were they going to continue down that path…?
“Ma’am?” The maid holding the pantsuit stepped forward. “Beg yer pardon, ma’am… Tis what we need. Yer one of us now. We need ye. Please stay.”
“What is your name?”
“Fiona, ma’am.”
“Fiona, I may not be able to save Scotland, but I will try. At least until they get fed up with me and decide to send me home. You should know though, I’m not the kind of person to keep my mouth shut… I’ll more than likely cause at least one international incident in the first twelve hours…” She took a deep breath and put her head up. She would make sure they got fed up with her too. There was more than one way to skin a cat. If she had survived being chased by drug runners because of Gen’s guy, then she could survive until they came for her. Just have to be a pain in the ass, make it uncomfortable for her guards. She grinned, that she could do. “I like the pantsuit.”
Chapter 5
Amelia stood in the throne room. The sunlight filtered through the windows and danced upon the wooden floors. The deep mahogany burned brighter, more auburn, with the kiss of light.
Sounds filtered in from outside. Sounds of people parading in the streets. Laughter and shouts of joy embraced her heart. Were they this happy because of her? Were they this happy because they were free of England, or were they simply basking in the nationalistic feelings that the vote was sure to have caused?
A quiet cough brought her attention back to the matter at hand. Her coronation.
“Your Majesty, are you feeling well?”
“Yes, Edith. I’m fine. Just listening to the people outside. They are so excited…”
Edith’s bright smile soothed her. “Don’t worry. They love you.”
“They don’t even know me.” It was true. They didn’t. They were unaware of the things she had done in her life, of the damage her temper had caused. Unaware of how quietly she lived, in penance, with the hope that one day she would be more than just a small office worker at a big company. A company that probably didn’t even know she was there. That probably didn’t know she was more than just an employee number with a set salary. Someone that never took time off. Never enjoyed life… Her penance…
“You were chosen. You are their queen. Good or bad, you are theirs and they love you for it. Scotland will keep you. Its people will protect you and love you. Even if you fail.”
Fail? Was Edith a mind reader? Did she know what Amelia had planned? “So how will this work?”
“The leader of the Scottish Nationalist Party, SNP for short, will come in. He’s a seedy little man, so prepare yourself. He will be flanked by your guards. This is a different ceremony than normal because you have been so ill. Normally press would be here, rulers of other countries present, etcetera . In this case though, no press is allowed; however, there will be one Royal Photographer permitted. He will document the event for the press outside.”
“I bet I look awful.” She could not help it. Self-conscious person that she was, she could not help being worried about how the world would see her. Her hair was probably sticking out at all ends. Its curly behavior defied all odds, especially when it was mad at her.
“No, the outfit suits you just fine! Do not worry about it. Everything will be fine.”
Sure, she wasn’t the one being put on display. “So what will happen next?”
“The SNP Leader will ask you to pledge yourself to protect and defend Scotland. He will also ask a few other little questions. Then your guards will kneel in front of you and promise to protect you, to keep you safe for Scotland.”
“That’s it?” Edith made it seem so simple. Maybe she was not a mind reader. She certainly seemed oblivious to the turmoil rolling through her. Maybe that was for the best though. Then Amelia could enact her plans to run away. Just had to make it to the market for shopping. Surely no one knew what she looked like yet. She could just slip away, like a thief in the night, while they were focused on something else.
“That’s it.”
Taking a calming breath, she straightened her shoulders. This was doable. It wasn’t scary at all. Nope, not one bit.
Fuck, who was she kidding? Her knees were shaking, her stomach was rolling, and her head was spinning. If
she didn’t end up embarrassing herself by puking on her own shoes or the SNP Leader, then she would believe she was doing good and that all this was ‘doable’.
“Oh, then you will give a small, short speech to Parliament. Parliament will have been convened downstairs, while the coronation is taking place. In fact, they have already started gathering.”
“Parliament?” Was Edith serious? “Are you shitting me?” Edith’s eyes opened wide at her words. “So that’s a yes?”
“Yes, I’m serious. Also, you will want to refrain from using words like shitting from now on, please.”
Amelia grinned madly. “You don’t cuss often, do you?” This woman was as straight-laced as they come. Even Edith’s button up shirt was buttoned all the way to the very top, the collar taunt against her skin.
“No, ma’am, I do not.”
It even went to the woman’s speech. “You also don’t use contractions.”
“No, ma’am, I do not.”
“I think we’ll get along quite well.” They would too. Straight-laced Edith was there to keep her out of trouble. Her of all people — the rebel American. They had no idea what she was capable of.
They were going to learn.
Chapter 6
A man that had been introduced to Amelia as Thomas Cornwell, the Leader of the Scottish Nationalist Party, held a Bible in front of him, clutching it to his chest as if it was a lifeline. His eyes were coal black, his hair was a dirty blond, and his appearance was meticulous. His suit looked as if it had been tailor made just for him, and from the look of his hands, it probably was. They looked soft, having never seen a day’s work. The British accent he spoke with as he introduced himself gave her pause. She had assumed that the SNP Leader would be Scottish, not British. “You’re British.”
“Of course I am not British. I was sent to boarding school in London as a boy and went to Cambridge. Unfortunately, in order to get ahead, I had to lose my Scottish accent.”