Spring Feve

by Emerald Wright

  “We're more developed than several of our neighbors- Khaihalland-of-the-Mountains is a bit wild yet. And since Izobelle took the throne, our interest in the Arts has increased greatly. But we still have several provinces that are agricultural economies. Large corporate owned farms and small family farms. Many of the smaller towns still rely on more of a barter system and prefer not to engage in the exchange of currency much.”

  Hannah nodded. “We're the same. Many of the younger men have jobs in town and some of the women sell goods, but we're largely self-sufficient.” Hannah paused. “Though farmland is becoming nearly impossible to buy outright if it isn’t inherited. We've had to adapt.”

  Hannah didn’t say what her parents refused to speak- that their way of life was endangered. She set the worry aside and focused on Miahela. Soon the Princess pronounced they'd done all they could and rose.

  “You aren't scheduled to appear until before the dinner hour. I’m sorry to be abrupt, but we must move quickly to control what goes to the media. So far the focus has been on your dance. You have time for a nap and something to eat.”

  The Princess led Hannah to a beautifully appointed guest suite in the family wing.

  “You can’t move into Andrei’s suite until you've been formally acknowledged,” Miahela said quietly. “Unfortunately there are constraints on royal life.”

  At that point, Hannah was too weary to care. A meal was brought. A creamy soup and the fanciest roast beef sandwich she'd ever tasted, with sliced fruit and even a piece of cheesecake. Hannah sipped juice and water during her meal and then curled onto the large bed. And fell asleep.

  ***

  A caress of lips on her cheek woke her. She turned her head, capturing his mouth for a proper kiss. Sinking into the warmth of him as her blood slowly heated. After a moment Andrei drew away.

  “No time, I'm afraid,” he said.

  She opened her eyes, studying the grave expression. Her hand cupped his cheek. “It will be alright.”

  He smiled at her. “The strength of my mate. I'm supposed to be giving you reassurance, not the other way around.”

  “You just did.”

  She climbed out of bed, startled to see Miahela a few discreet feet away, head turned as she studied the view out of the window, giving them the illusion of privacy. Once Hannah stood, the Princess shooed Andrei out.

  “Come, we'll get you dressed.”

  The floor length tunic style gown had long wide sleeves and a high neck. A deep purple, Mia wrapped a wide golden sash around her waist, thick with embroidery that matched the cuffs and neckline. The ends of the sash draped down the center of her body to the floor. A stiff matching cap was placed on her head with a sheer veil that draped loosely over her shoulders. Her hair was left free, tumbling down her back in untamed curls. When Miahela emerged from the dressing room she wore a similar ensemble in an emerald green.

  “It’s the traditional dress of our family,” the Princess said in response to Hannah’s expression. “Every Casakraine family will have a similar designed dress, with the colors and embroidery being unique to the family line. Mother will wear red, probably. Only the Sahakian females wear this dress. It will send a message that they had better vote correctly. The Sahakian’s do not make comfortable enemies.”

  Hannah's looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize the exotic, aristocratic stranger staring at her. Concentrated, and shifted her expression into Miahela's serene, slightly aloof lines.

  “Come,” the Princess said. “You look every inch a Sahakian. Don't allow the Assembly to cow you.”

  ***

  Hannah had expected an ornate chamber with high ceilings and crummy acoustics. The Assembly room looked more like a university amphitheater than anything else. Rows of desks, generously spaced, on each half-moon step at which men and women sat. She couldn’t quite differentiate the nobles from their aides- Miahela had told her it was the aides who did the real work.

  The Queen and Prince sat at their own table on a raised dais in the front of the room. Izobelle did wear red, her son in a knee length tunic almost identical to what Hannah wore, and slim silk pants. Andrei rose as Hannah and Miahela entered. The general hum of conversation softened as people noticed where Andrei strode.

  “Perfect,” Miahela murmured. “They must be on a break between dockets. I do hate interrupting.”

  Andrei reached them a moment later, meeting the women halfway. Hannah's training took over, her walk and posture perfect, expression stage ready. Calm, warm, but aloof.

  “Highness,” she greeted, and curtsied. Miahela had informed her showing her mate such respect might win her a few points- show she was grateful to be raised above her position as a commoner, etc. etc. And that it would not insult the Queen to bow to her mate first, since this was not a formal occasion.

  Andrei caught her hand, brow and mouth quirking with amused irritation as he shot his sister a quick look. The Princess inclined her head, continuing past them to her mother.

  “Are you ready?” he asked softly, voice not carrying beyond her ears. His hand caressed her cheek briefly.

  “Princess Miahela was thorough. I’m a trained performer, after all.” She smiled at him. “Even if I am a small town country girl.”

  “You are a Princess, and a Sahakian.”

  He took her arm and escorted her down the wide steps. When they cleared the final tier and stood before the Queen, Hannah curtsied low. Slightly smug her dancer's training meant her lines were smooth, strong. Perfect.

  “Hannah,” Izobelle greeted. “Come sit with us. The break is almost over.” Hannah took the seat on Andrei's left, Miahela settling on the other side of her mother.

  “Lords.” When the Queen spoke, silence descended, save for the rustle of cloth or paper.

  Hannah was impressed.

  Andrei rose. Hannah stiffened, an involuntary reaction to the mantle of menace now cloaking him. His eyes sparked as he slowly scanned the room. He took Hannah's hand, drew her to her feet.

  “I am honored to introduce my mate, the Princess Hannah, and to announce she carries my firstborn Heir. I apply for the Assembly's blessing to recognize our mating and the legitimacy of our child, and have their names recorded as members of the Sahakian line.”

  The request sounded more like a threat. Hannah controlled her grimace.

  A man rose, three tiers up. Elegantly dressed in a black and silver tunic, dark hair interspersed with iron grey.

  “We have concerns, Highness, which we've made Her Majesty aware of.”

  Andrei inclined his head. “Indeed. I thought the main concern so foolish it warranted little enough of my concern.” Broad shoulders shifted. “Really, Wadim. Her humanity disturbs you? I'd thought better of our nation's war hero.”

  Lord Wadim's gaze remained unruffled. “Human mates do not always produce Bear babes.”

  Andre shrugged, deceptively light. “They we will try, try again.”

  “Admirable how willing our Prince is to do his duty.” Hannah stiffened, but the ribbing underneath Wadim's grave tone seemed good natured. “There is the question of the girl herself. Is she worthy to be Consort to a Sahakian King? We are uncertain.”

  “I have said it is so.”

  Hannah wondered if the combination of stony expression and soft tone went over their heads.

  “You understand why we cannot take your word for it. You are her mate. Naturally you’re biased.”

  “Then what do you propose, Wadim?” Izobelle asked, voice cutting through the strained pleasantries.

  “We would like to speak with Lady Hannah, with your permission.”

  Andrei nodded. “Of course.”

  They took their seats. Hannah faced Lord Wadim, relaxing her body. It wouldn’t do for shifters to sense her anxiety.

  “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Hannah,” Lord Wadim said.

  She inclined her head. “I'm very pleased to be in Casakraine, my Lord.”
<
br />   “Ah. And is this the first time you’ve traveled outside of America?”

  She smiled at him, pleasant, just a hint of warmth peeking through her reserve. “It is. My parents are farmers. We had little time or means for travel.”

  His iron grey brows rose. “Farmers, my Lady? How interesting. Casakraine's economy is still largely agricultural.”

  “So I understand. We're third generation farmers.”

  “And is that your desire as well? To farm?”

  She allowed her smile to widen. “No. I'll always love the land, but I’m a dancer, my Lord. I study ballet at a university in America.”

  “The Princess is a gifted dancer.” Izobelle said. “I'm hoping she will help me expand our Arts program in the capital. So many of our young females would be well suited to dance, don't you agree?”

  “Indeed,” Wadim said. “You dance, an accomplishment. And are all of your friends dancers, as well?”

  “I’m afraid I'm a bit boring,” Hannah said. “I haven’t yet made friends. I train very hard, which leaves no time for socializing.”

  “Stop beating around the bush, Wadim,” a woman snapped.

  Hannah glanced at her, saw narrowed eyes and a sleek chignon. “We want to know what kind of dirt we can expect the media to dig out of your closet, girl.”

  “I won't remind you again to address my mate as Highness, or my Lady at the very least,” Andrei said. For a moment no one spoke. The naked threat in his tone was enough.

  “Lady Hannah,” the woman said after a moment, the name a thinly veiled demand.

  “I understand what you’re asking, and I even understand the reasons for the question,” Hannah replied. “But I still find it distasteful. Please accept that I have no skeletons which would shame my parents, or my mate.” She turned to Andrei, meeting jewel bright eyes. “Andrei is the only man to ever tempt me away from my studies.” They stared at each other, a long, humming moment before he touched her cheek to break their connection. Hannah took a deep breath. Turned back to the woman. “And I am a law abiding woman.”

  “Come, Lady.” The skepticism was thick. “No provocative photos on social media? No naughty secondary school parties? Nothing?”

  Hannah's mouth firmed. “I was raised in a community where we believe in living off the land provided by God, and in family, and in leading moral lives according the scriptures. You won't find one picture of me except those taken during my school performance.”

  Silence in the chamber. Hannah was proud she'd managed to keep her tone civil- though barely. What the woman implied irked her even more than she'd anticipated. And she realized how proud she was of her conservative heritage. How proud she was to have been raised by simple, hard working parents. She felt no shame in being unworldly. True, she wanted things beyond the scope of what most women in her home community usually wanted. In that she was a bit of a rebel. But in comparison with worldly women? Hannah stifled a snort.

  “This must all be very new for you.” Lord Wadim drew her attention back to him. “The pressures of a royal life are many. If you’re as sheltered as you say- no, Andrei, I'm not doubting your mate's word- then do you feel you are able to shoulder the burden of being our Prince’s Consort? A burden greater than even Mia's, I'd say. You have a lot of learning ahead of you.”

  Hannah wondered at the suddenly dropped honorifics, but nether Andrei not Miahela corrected the older male, so she assumed there was a relationship of some sort there.

  “I'm certain it will be challenging,” Hannah replied. “I can only take it one day at a time. Most important to me is that I remain with my mate.”

  “Well said.” Approval in Wadim's eyes. Then he looked at Izobelle. “Majesty, I'll want to speak with Her Highness later in more depth, but for now the Assembly is satisfied. When the fetus is at an age for testing to determine genetics, then we will make our final determination.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “Hannah.”

  She didn't turn. She wasn't ignoring him, exactly. He knew the exact moment she was aware of his presence as the width of his body disturbed the air at her back.

  “You’ve been in the garden all morning.”

  She was a little surprised he knew that. But then, she supposed one of her guards told him.

  Hannah jerked a shoulder in a shrug, shifting on the stone bench.

  “Would you like to eat lunch together?”

  That would be... nice. It wasn't that often during the day he was able to spend time with her. Because the Assembly had decided to postpone their final decision on her status until the baby could be tested, Hannah had been quietly shuffled to the background. Miahela still oversaw her education, and there were a few required appearances. But it had been put out that Hannah and Andrei wanted her to rest during her first trimester to ensure she didn't miscarry.

  She snorted. If it was the will of God she miscarry, then no lack of activity would prevent it. No woman ever lost a baby from a hard day's work.

  Which was the problem. She hadn't worked a single hard day since coming to Casakraine. Her shoulders slumped. What did it matter if they had lunch together? He would just go off again this busy, meaningful, complex life and she would be back here... sitting in the garden staring at plants.

  “Hannah.”

  Andrei moved into her line of vision. She glanced up and shrugged again. “Sure. Let's have lunch.”

  Looking away to avoid responding to the flash of frustration in his eyes, she rose. “I’m not really hungry, though.”

  He took a deep breath. She felt his agitation through the bond but when he spoke his tone was gentle. “Hannah, you're going to have to talk to me. We can't keep going on like this.”

  She smiled, brittle. Edged. “Maybe I should go back home.”

  Blue eyes narrowed. “You are home.”

  “This is not my home. I don't care for the house, I don’t prepare our meals. I don’t work, I don’t do anything important.” She stopped, hearing the rise of her own voice.

  “You are a Princess. You don't need to clean or cook.”

  “What do I need to do, Andrei? Besides sit around and get fat?”

  She rarely used that tone of voice with him- and only recently. It felt odd, this restless temper of the last few weeks. Before she’d always channeled her focus and energy into dance, or into studies. At home, into her chores and trying to earn a scholarship. Now- nothing. She realized boredom was literally getting on her nerves.

  He watched her, no change in his expression. “What do you need, Hannah? You haven’t been very communicative lately.”

  And, unspoken, was that he wasn’t the kind of man to cajole her to speak when she choose silence. Fine. Her fault.

  “I need a purpose other than to be your mate. I'm a dancer, Andrei. I want to dance. At the very least, I need to do something useful. I wasn't raised to be idle.”

  Blue eyes studied her a long moment. “Forgive me,” he said, surprising her. “I should have realized you were unhappy. I thought... well, never mind what I thought. Let's eat lunch, and we'll sort through our options, hmm?”

  Hunger returning now that gnawing anxiety began to recede, Hannah accepted his outstretched hand. They ate, discussed various endeavors that might interest her. As they spoke, she watched chagrin flash through his eyes.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  He sighed. “I suppose I assumed you would just want to rest and study quietly.” He studied her, doubtful. “Human women- aren't they a bit... hmm. Isn’t pregnancy-”

  “I think you should stop while you're ahead,” Hannah said, eyes narrowing.

  He laughed, rising. “I have to return to work. I'll brief Mia on our talk. I'm sure she'll be happy for you help with some of her projects, especially since you're taking up so much of her time with your education.”

  She scowled at his quirked brow, but smiled as he left the room.

  Mia came to her later for their regu
lar lesson. “My brother tells me you're bored. Why didn’t you say anything?”

  Hannah sighed. “I didn’t want to be a bother, or sound like I was complaining. And I know it's important I learn all of this stuff.” A wave of her hand encompassed the tablet, regular hardbound books and stack of notes. She did like to study by hand.

  “It's important, but if you feel up to doing some real work, there is plenty for you to do. You are Andrei's mate, even if the Assembly hasn't officially recognized you as Princess yet. Give me a day or two to sort through some of my projects and find a good fit? I have some ideas, but I'd like to take time and place you appropriately.”

  “That sounds fine.”

  “In the meantime...” Miahela hesitated. “Wouldn’t you like to leave the castle? You aren’t trapped here.”

  Hannah's eyes widened. “I can leave?”

  The Princess frowned. “Of course you can leave!” The dark eyed beauty stared at Hannah. “Did you think we were trying to closet you away?”

  “Well...”

  Mia rolled her eyes, muttered something under her breath. “Go get some comfortable shoes, and your purse. I can't go with you, but I'll have a car and your guard escort you to the city for the evening. It will do you good to do some shopping. Eat dinner by yourself, even. You must be sick of my brother by now.”

  Hannah grinned, but refused to rise to the bait as she hurried to choose a pair of Mary Jane style sneakers and a plain, though couture, purse. Her wallet had a shiny new plastic card in it, along with enough cash to feed a family of four for a month. She glanced in the mirror briefly, making sure the tailored jeans and knit blouse she wore was decent- though, of course they were. Casual the outfit might be but it was still new, and designer.

  The trip to town was scenic. Forest and mountains on one side of here, and the rolling green farmlands on the other side. Seeing the grazing cattle, horses with their young and flocks of sheep, she almost felt at home. Once in the city, Hannah watched people- Bears, she assumed, as well as humans- go about their business. The city was a charming juxtaposition of modern and old fashioned. Current brands housed in well kept, but vintage brick buildings. The driver pulled into a covered parking garage. Hannah waited until her door was opened and emerged.