A Choice of Crowns

by Barb Hendee

  Kamilla put up my hair, weaving a strand of pearls into the arrangement, and she cut a few locks in the front so they might curl around my face. When she finished with me at last, I stood before the mirror, pleased by the image.

  A queen gazed back at me.

  “Thank you,” I said. I meant it. I had come to value her greatly. She mourned the loss of Ashton, but she was kind to me, even offering me comfort, as if I were in mourning too. When Kamilla looked at me, she saw a good person.

  Of course, I wasn’t. But I valued her so much for this.

  “Don’t let him bully you, my lady,” she said. “Stand your ground today.”

  Though she never expressed it openly, Kamilla was not so kindly disposed toward her king.

  I nodded. “I won’t fail.”

  I had a plan.

  Gathering my skirts, I left my apartments and made my way to the great hall. It was still early, before people would gather, and inside the hall, a mix of guards and servants were making ready. The dais had already been set in place and two guards carried Rowan’s chair between them. They set it on the dais.

  Captain Caron oversaw all of this, but his eyes widened when I entered the hall. Striding over, he took in my gown, face, and hair. I could see open admiration in his light brown eyes, but he must have noticed me noticing because he glanced away.

  “My lady?” he asked.

  It was too early for me to up and ornately dressed.

  “Please don’t mind me,” I said. “I just came to check on the setup for the day, but I can see that all is well in hand.”

  Men were stepping off the dais.

  “Have they forgotten the smaller chair?” I asked.

  “My lady?” the captain asked again.

  I met his gaze, and he must have realized what I was up to.

  Turning, he called out, “Have the smaller chair brought out as well.”

  Both men stopped. “Sir?” asked one of them.

  “Do it,” he ordered.

  I wasn’t quite finished. “Have it arranged directly beside the large chair, not halfway behind.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Are you certain, my lady?”

  “Absolutely.”

  * * * *

  Later that morning, I waited near the exit of the corridor that led from the east tower and emptied into the entry chamber before the great hall. When Rowan emerged, wearing his crown, I fell into step beside him. He appeared taken aback at first but allowed me to keep pace.

  “Coming to watch the court?” he asked.

  I will give him this. Since our marriage, he’d never been impolite.

  “Not exactly,” I answered.

  As we moved through the vast, round entry chamber, six guards took their places behind us. Ahead waited the tall archway of the great hall, and people had gathered.

  Though Rowan had spoken to leaders of the city and the heads of the merchant guilds to explain the news of Ashton’s death—and allow them to ask questions—this was the first full public gathering since her death.

  When I walked in, dressed in my resplendent gown, with my husband at my side and six royal guards at my back, all the people inside the hall turned to stare. News of the royal marriage had spread, but I had not yet been seen. Rowan halted when he realized what I’d just done.

  Faces in the crowd before me broke into smiles and a cheer went up. More cheers followed, louder and louder until the noise was deafening. Their beloved princess may be gone, but I was here, and to them, I was young, regal, and full of promise.

  They cheered.

  Beside me, Rowan stiffened.

  “Smile,” I said quietly, channeling his mother.

  He didn’t smile, but nor did he stop the celebration. Then he saw the two chairs on the dais.

  “Shall we?” I asked.

  A flicker of surprise passed across his face as he realized he’d been outmaneuvered, but he could hardly send me away now. Together we walked through the crowd up to the dais and took our seats. The guards took up their positions behind us.

  Scanning the crowd, I stopped on Captain Caron. As he met my eyes, his mouth formed the barest hint of a smile. This was the first time I’d seen him look almost happy since Ashton’s death.

  Rowan’s secretary, Jarvis, took his place to one side of the dais, unrolled a list, and called up two men from the craftsmen’s guild who were in dispute over placement of stalls in the upcoming fair. I was so nervous I barely followed the discussion, but I also realized I knew nothing of the layout of the city or the marketplace, and I’d be of no use to Rowan in this matter. Thankfully, it wasn’t a complicated issue, and he managed to help the men work out an agreement. I was aware that the fair was an important event, and the crown took part of the proceeds in taxes, so I made a mental note to learn more of the inner workings.

  The next case was more difficult. Apparently, a section on the seaward side of the castle had collapsed during a storm in the spring. The basic work had been completed, but now an artisan mason was needed for the fine work. This was a large job that would extend for months, and it paid well.

  Jarvis had conducted the initial search, and he’d narrowed the candidates down to two men of equal skill—both vying for this important job. It was for the king to make the final choice.

  The two men took turns relating their skills, and they both did indeed sound qualified. As I listened, something about one of the men caught my attention. He wore an indigo shirt with black buttons.

  Then I noted that Jarvis referred to him as “Cameron Compté.”

  Quickly, I turned my head toward Rowan. I didn’t rise and stand in deference behind him, whispering in his ear. For one thing, my height would have made this appear ridiculous. Instead, I spoke very softly.

  “Cameron Compté has a wife named Theresa who is unwell. She’s had difficulty recovering from the birth of a child. The family needs money, and he’s not found much work this summer.”

  For all I knew, the other man on the floor had as great a need as Cameron, but this didn’t matter.

  Smoothly, Rowan leaned forward in his chair, speaking to Cameron. “I’ve heard your wife, Theresa, is unwell and you have a new child in the house.” He gazed out over the crowd of people, and then back to the two men before him. “As you are both fine masons of equal skill, I award the position to Cameron Compté.”

  His words and his ruling made him sound benevolent and connected to the small lives of his people. This must have been what Ashton did over and over. Cameron’s expression melted into relief, and he bowed.

  “Thank you, my king.”

  His clear gratitude completed the picture of a just decision. Rowan shot me a startled glance. He’d not expected actual help from me.

  Unfortunately, my triumph was short-lived.

  I’d been in possession of this small piece of information only because of the few moments I’d spent in the old stable with Ashton. I had nothing else to offer. For the next six cases I sat in silence, feeling increasingly self-conscious and useless. None of the cases were particularly complex, and in each one, I’d have made the same decision as Rowan, but my purpose here was not to make decisions. My purpose was to offer snippets of information to assist him.

  Then…a man and a woman were called before the dais. She ran a business making casks, and he was a winemaker. She had delivered a large number of casks he’d ordered, and he had not paid the bill, citing hardship and asking for an extension.

  “I’ve already granted him an extension, my king,” the woman said, “twice. He has no intention of paying what he owes, and my men worked for three months on those casks. We turned down other work because his order was so large.”

  The man held up both hands. “I cannot pay what I do not have. The price of burgundy wine has fallen this year, and I’ve not been able to cover my own costs,
much less pay some of my debts.”

  A few faces in the crowd darkened, but no one spoke.

  At this, I sat up straight as I remembered something. At one of the embroidery circles in the dowager’s quarters, Lord Sauvage’s wife, Miranda, had been joking about her husband’s poor temper due to the increased cost of burgundy wine—which was his favorite. The sweetness of last year’s crop had produced a fine vintage, and its popularity had caused a sharp rise in price.

  A number of the people in the crowd must know this, but I wasn’t certain about Rowan.

  Again, I turned my head and spoke softly to my husband. “He’s lying. The price of burgundy wine is sky-high this year.”

  Rowan leaned forward, addressing the winemaker. “As the price of burgundy wine has indeed not fallen, but risen, you will make good on your debt today.” His voice was harsh, and he looked to Jarvis. “Take them aside and see to this. I do not care for liars or swindlers.”

  The winemaker blinked and then paled. He’d apparently not expected this decision. From what I’d seen, Rowan tended to prefer compromise, and the man was probably trying to buy more time so he could slither out of paying for the casks.

  But people in the crowd nodded approval. With his righteous indignation, Rowan appeared both in the right, and a just leader.

  My thoughts flowed. I would never be like Ashton, ready with bits of knowledge about the common people. I would never know their names or who was having children or whose husband had fallen off a roof and broken a leg. But…I could learn more about the guilds and the smaller points of commerce in this city. I could invite the wives of city leaders and merchants to teas and embroidery circles. Perhaps I would need to smooth the feathers of Emilee Martine and employ her assistance.

  I couldn’t help with the next few cases, but I had helped with the two most difficult decisions, and when court came to a close, Rowan looked at me with cautious assessment.

  Then he stood, and I followed suit. Our guards fell in behind. We swept from the great hall together, passing a sea of smiling faces.

  As I passed Captain Caron, he silently mouthed, “Well done.”

  To my shame, I was grateful. For some reason, I cared what he thought.

  Once through the archway, I wondered if Rowan would turn and censure me for my bold actions today.

  He didn’t.

  Instead, he headed off for the courtyard, but he called back. “I will see you at dinner.” He paused. “My lady.”

  Chapter Seven

  Early autumn arrived and the Council of Nobles returned for my coronation.

  The castle was bursting with activity, and it seemed I was constantly being shown a variety of lists for approvals. There were endless meals to plan and nobles to house. Everyone was coming to see me crowned. In addition to the entire families of every man on the council, my own family was en route.

  They would all need rooms.

  And their guards…preparing housing for the guards alone took up a good deal of Captain Caron’s time.

  Thankfully, Genève took a good deal off my hands, as I also had gown fittings and rehearsal sessions with Lord Cloutier, who was the eldest member of the council, for the ceremony. It would not be complicated, and he himself would place the crown on my head,

  I rarely saw Rowan during the weeks leading up to the grand event, and I had no idea how he spent his days. He was certainly not assisting his mother or me, but neither of us expected his help.

  On the day of my family’s arrival, though, he did stand with me in the courtyard as they rode in. I could barely breathe for joy. This would be a sweet moment I would savor.

  My father rode in the lead and dismounted with his usual grace. I walked out to greet him and Rowan followed.

  “Father,” I said.

  He nodded. “Daughter.”

  It was then I realized this would be the extent of his approval. I don’t know why I expected more.

  He bowed to the king.

  My brother, George, dismounted his horse next—and then both my sisters. He bowed and they curtsied, and I must admit enjoying a thrill of pleasure at the jealous hatred in both Margareta’s and Eleanor’s eyes. Neither of them had made my childhood easy, and I planned to make their next few days as miserable as possible. Of course, they would be given the best rooms, but I wanted them suffering at my triumph.

  “I trust you had a good journey,” Rowan said politely.

  “Yes,” my father answered. “The roads were very dry.” Then Father turned to me. “I’ve brought you a surprise.”

  The words alone were startling. Father had never thought to arrange a surprise for me in all my life. He turned and looked back at an unusually tall guard on a roan horse. The man had a hood over his head, but I noticed he was not wearing the green tabard of Géroux under his cloak, but the light blue and yellow of the royal military. He dismounted.

  When he tossed his hood back, exposing a head of thick, burnished red hair and slanted green eyes, I gasped. “Henri!”

  My other brother, the only member of my family to ever show me kindness. Father had brought him down from the northern border and allowed him to come to my coronation. Throwing decorum aside, I ran to him, and he swept me up his arms, holding me tightly.

  “Olivia.”

  He was nearly as tall as Captain Caron, and, like the captain, had always made me feel diminutive by comparison. I felt small and safe in his arms.

  Grasping my shoulders, he held me back to look at me. “By the gods. You’re about to be queen. Will I have to kneel and kiss your skirt?”

  “Absolutely.” I smiled. We did not exactly share love, but we liked each other, and I was so glad for his presence.

  What surprised me most was that he seemed at ease and happy. His lightly freckled skin was tan, and he appeared in excellent health. I’d thought to find him subdued when we next met, as Father had thwarted his life’s plan.

  “You are well?” I asked quietly, “even after being sent north?”

  He held both my hands and matched my low voice. “I am quite well. Though I’d never admit it to our father, he was right. I am suited to the military and enjoying more freedom than I thought possible. Plus…I’m needed on the border. I am necessary.”

  Rowan came up behind us with a queer expression on his face, almost wistful.

  Henri bowed. “My king.”

  “This is my favorite brother,” I said, still feeling playful and not caring if George heard.

  Then I wondered why Rowan was watching us so strangely, a brother and sister who were fond of each other and did not fear to express it. Some of my happiness faded. I’d bought this crown at a high price.

  But Rowan also assessed Henri quickly. “Lieutenant Henri Géroux? You’ve been up on the northern border?”

  “Yes, my king.”

  Rowan nodded. “I would speak with you later if you have the time.”

  “I am at your disposal.”

  More of my happiness faded. The northern border separated our kingdom from Samourè.

  * * * *

  On the day of my coronation, I rode a horse from the outer edge of the city all the way to the castle gates. Rowan rode behind me. Twenty royal guards and forty members of the royal military followed him.

  Thousands of people lined the streets.

  It was the finest day of my life.

  My gown was gold with a red underskirt, and I wore a white cape with fur trim. People cheered and tossed roses in our path. We were loved, and I felt loved. I let my horse, Meesha, walk slowly, so I might embrace every moment.

  When we finally passed through the castle gate, Captain Caron lifted me down, and Baron Augustine awaited me.

  Rowan went inside ahead of us, and we waited.

  All the other nobles were already inside.

  After enough time had passe
d, the baron offered me his arm. “My lady.”

  Together, we walked through the doors of the castle, down the main corridor. The royal guards followed.

  I walked in to find a sea of finely dressed nobles. Forty serving woman had spent three days lining the walls with long strings of flowers. A red carpet had been spread from the archway to the dais.

  Baron Augustine led me up the red carpet. Rowan sat in his chair on the dais. He wore his crown. My empty chair waited beside him. Lord Cloutier stood in his formal robes, and a second crown rested on a pedestal.

  Unbidden, the dark thought filled my head that Genève had worn that same crown for years. She stood at the front of the nobles, beside my father. They were an appropriate pair.

  Baron Augustine led me to the dais, and I took my chair beside Rowan.

  After that, everything became a blur.

  Lord Cloutier anointed my forehead with oil, and I remember swearing to a number of vows to put the kingdom before all else.

  He placed the crown upon my head. Then he stepped to the side and motioned to me with one hand. “Queen Olivia.”

  Rowan and I remained seated.

  The crown was heavier than it looked, but I held my head high.

  I was queen.

  * * * *

  The celebration that night was quite merry. Typically, if a royal family decided to choose a queen from among the daughters of their kingdom’s own noble families, the infighting could be savage. But my family was of old blood and my father was not on the council—not in a position of political power—and everyone was so glad to see Rowan married and the young queen crowned, that most of the congratulations were sincere.

  Genève had suggested earlier that we forgo any dancing after dinner and just allow people to mingle and talk. I agreed. There would much for people to say.

  As the night wore on, I felt more and more happy. I was the queen and the lady of this great hall.

  To make things even sweeter, neither of my sisters could stop casting astonished glances at Rowan. In a purely physical sense, even I had to admit he was striking, with his defined arms, high cheekbones, and dark wavy hair. I’d married a handsome king. Margareta and Eleanor must be positively writhing with jealousy.