Pawn (The Pawn Series Book 1)

by Robin Roseau

  "Why?"

  "So we know what day to celebrate."

  "I don't understand."

  "Just you wait."

  And so my first official birthday was quite a surprise to me. It was actually a intimate affair of just those closest to me. Juleena, Ralalta, and Muranna each gave me small gifts, which I didn't understand. But it was the custom, and so I learned when their birthdays were, and Mellara's, too, and after that, I did my part to celebrate their birthdays, and they celebrated mine.

  But ten and eight is not a minor birthday, which I would discover as Muranna's date arrived. And so, when my birthday of ten and eight approached, I had a clue what to expect, although only a clue, as in Framara, there were a number of traditions that specifically excluded anyone who had not yet reached the age of ten and eight and others I just hadn't had the occasion to see.

  * * * *

  In the weeks leading to my birthday, I was busy beyond belief. There was to be a celebration, of course, and it would be far more expansive than less important birthdays. At first I feared the queen would invite practically everyone, and during the summer months, well in front of the date, we had several dinners where the conversation was dominated by Juleena, Ralalta, and Muranna discussing the guest list. I listened in horror as the list grew and grew.

  But in the end, it was Lady Malta, the chatelaine, who presented to me the final guest list. I hadn't even known invitations had gone out, much less responses received. Standing in her office, I counted the names, tried to hide my sigh of relief, and then looked up at her. She was suppressing a smile.

  "I carried a similar look in the days leading up to receiving a list such as this," she said. "You feared for hundreds, didn't you?"

  "This is the entire list? You don't have a second hiding somewhere?"

  "That's the list." She paused. "The queen has asked me to ensure you understand the traditions."

  "I know there are three tasks," I said. "Is there more I need to know?"

  "Yes, but you will learn of them on the day." She paused. "Lady Yallameenara, will you be able to complete the tasks? You understand you cannot solicit help of any sort."

  "Not even advice?"

  "That much you can request, but no more than that."

  I counted the names again, and while the list was far less daunting than I had feared, there was something quite evident. "I can't make a tapestry such as Muranna made for me, and I certainly can't make fifty and four of them."

  "Muranna would not have given everyone tapestries," she said. "She made fewer than a dozen. Other gifts would have been simpler."

  "I saw pillows, but even those were embroidered." I hung my head. "Lady Malta, I don't know what to do."

  "Only some of the pillows would have been embroidered, Lady Yallameenara," she replied. "Most of her guests probably received something much simpler with far less needlework, perhaps a kerchief with the recipient's household symbol. Do you see?"

  "I think so. Who gets what?"

  "Clearly the queen receives your best work, along with Princess Juleena. Lady Muranna should receive something quite special, and you should not slight Lady Griffen."

  "I understand that much."

  "It is also customary in this home for your lady's maid to be given a special gift."

  "But after that?"

  "After that, you must decide if a guest is a friend or an acquaintance, and gift accordingly."

  "Won't I offend someone?"

  "Perhaps, but there is an easy custom. If you have invited someone to call you Yalla, with no Lady, and not Yallameenara, that is the clear line."

  "So nearly everyone else receives the lesser of the gifts?" I thought about it. "Have I held myself too aloof?"

  "You are the queen's foster daughter and arrived as a complete stranger, a foreigner who barely spoke the language. You are not expected to have made many close friends, even as friendly as you are. And I suspect you have been advised to maintain some level of propriety."

  I nodded at that. "Yes." I looked down at this list, mentally putting people into one category or another. And then I nodded. "I think I understand. Thank you."

  "If you have other questions, I might suggest you ask me rather than Lady Muranna."

  "Because she is from Alteara, and they have other customs?"

  "Perhaps you should trust my advice without considering why I might offer it."

  "Is this part of the traditions no one will tell me?"

  "I won't answer questions like that, either, Lady Yallameenara. I have offered advice. It is your choice whether to accept it."

  I nodded. "I would be grateful, Lady Malta," I said. "Thank you."

  "You are welcome."

  * * * *

  I don't know how much time I spent on the quilts I made for Ralalta and Juleena. I don't know how much fabric I wasted in poor cutting. I don't now how many times I looked at my stitching and ripped it out in disgust. But in the end, I completed them, and they were bright and cheery besides.

  For Muranna, I made a tunic. I stole one of hers that had gotten ruined, carefully removing the stitching and using the material as a pattern. It was a simple tunic, the sort she could wear in casual company, but I made it myself, and I included little touches of the Arrlotta. It may not have been as stylish as most of her clothing, but it was unique, and the best I could make.

  The rest of the gifts I made took far less time. I probably spent more on Ralalta's quilt than I did on all of the lesser gifts combined. Still, it was a daunting task nevertheless, and I barely finished in time.

  My second task was much simpler: I was simply to bake bread for my guests. But the bread must be fresh, baked shortly before the party, and so all I could do in advance was practice, to ensure I could bake so many loaves in the palace ovens. In the last two weeks leading to my party, I baked dozens of loaves, most of them barely edible. But the cooks took pity on me and taught me what I needed to know. For that, I was thankful.

  * * * *

  Muranna and I spent the evening before my birthday celebration together -- like we did most nights. But when it was time to return to the palace, she didn't go inside with me. "I must go home to Lady Griffen's," she said, offering no other explanation. "I'll see you tomorrow."

  And so, alone and somewhat lonely, I made my way to my own chambers, saw to my needs, and climbed into bed.

  It had been late, and so it shouldn't have surprised me too much to find Juleena sitting on the edge of my bed in the morning, caressing my cheek to wake me. I batted the hand away and would have rolled over for a few more hours to sleep, but she Juleena said, "It's time to get up, Yalla."

  I groaned and cracked an eye open. From the light, I thought it was perhaps early, barely dawn. "I don't have to be anywhere for hours, and it's my birthday. Can't I sleep?"

  "No, you cannot," she said. "You must get up. Now."

  I let her pull me into a seated position and then rubbed the sleep from my eyes. "I'm up. I'm up."

  "Have you made your gifts, Yalla?" Juleena asked.

  "I need to make the bread, but that's later."

  "Yes. It must be fresh. But the other gifts?"

  "Yes." I gestured to a table in the corner where they were all piled, wrapped and with small cards indicating whom they were each for. "Am I to give you yours now?"

  "No, no." She smiled at me. "Today is the day you are declared a woman."

  "I know."

  "But until then, you remain a child."

  "I am hardly a child."

  "In the eyes of the law, you remain a child until declared an adult."

  "Well, I declare myself an adult."

  "It doesn't work that way, Yalla. The queen will make the proclamation later, during the party."

  "Oh."

  "So it is time to get up."

  "So you said."

  "You must dress for the day."

  "I don't get to lounge around for the morning, I take it."

  "You do not. See to your needs, and
then I will show you what you must wear."

  I eyed her cautiously, suddenly a little nervous, but I climbed from bed and took care of my morning ritual. When I returned to my bedroom, Juleena was still alone, standing at the windows. She turned to me.

  "I need Mellara to help with my hair."

  "No, you don't," she said. "I will help you."

  "Begging your pardon, Your Highness, but I think I'd rather Mellara did it."

  "And yet, I am going to. Sit." She pointed to a chair. Without another word I sat. Juleena turned her attention to my hair, which wouldn't require too much, as it was so short. She brushed it efficiently as I watched in the mirror.

  "It is a little short for this, but tradition must be observed," she said.

  And then she proceeded to part my hair down the middle before tying it in two high pigtails, one on either side just past my ears.

  "Funny," I told her.

  "Your birthday of ten and eight is a special day, Yalla," she said. "You enter as a child and you leave as an adult."

  And I stared at myself in the mirror. "Tell me you're kidding."

  "I wish your hair were longer, but this will have to do." But then she smiled. "You're going to look so adorable."

  "Adorable?"

  She stepped away. There was a garment bag hanging from the hook near my closet. I picked up the comb, intending to do my hair in a somewhat less childish fashion, but Juleena said, "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

  "Ah, but I'm not you."

  "Anyone who catches you with your hair out of order is allowed to punish you."

  "Excuse me?"

  "You heard me."

  I turned to face her. She had the garment bag, but she hadn't opened it yet. I gave it one good look and her two more. "You look very pleased with yourself."

  "Do I?" she asked. "I'm serious, Yalla. There is one tradition. An older, female member of your family describes your responsibilities today. That is to be me. You can believe me or not, but I have never lied to you."

  "I'm supposed to leave my hair like this?" I gestured.

  She nodded. "If it becomes undone, whoever fixes it for you is also allowed to assign a punishment."

  I didn't say a word. Juleena watched me for a moment and then carefully opened the garment bag, withdrawing...

  "You aren't serious."

  In response, she grinned.

  She was holding about the least stylish piece of clothing I had ever seen.

  "Muranna wasn't wearing anything like that."

  "You mean she wasn't wearing it by the time you saw her. Do you need help putting it on?"

  It was, well, it was the sort of attire a young child would wear, or perhaps a court jester. There was a belted jumper in bright, garish colors, and a floppy hat to go with it. Oh, there was more to it than that: a simple, white blouse to wear underneath, and a pair of low sandals of a sort I'd never be caught dead in.

  "Please tell me you're kidding."

  "This was made especially for you, Yalla. It is the traditional clothing that tells everyone today is your birthday of ten and eight. I once wore one like this, and I promise you, Muranna wore hers."

  "I find that difficult to believe."

  She simply waved the garment at me.

  "I'm not wearing that."

  "Those were the exact words I told my mother."

  "And?"

  "If you do not wear it, I am allowed to enlist help putting you into it."

  "You wouldn't."

  "Of course I would," she said. "And if you are seen as untidy, whoever catches you-"

  "Wait. Wait. I think I can guess this part. Punishment?"

  "Yes."

  "Whoever catches me?"

  "Yes, and you can bet people will be watching for you."

  I stared for a while. "I haven't seen anyone else dressed like that."

  "You would have, but since you arrived, you are the first person living in the palace to reach ten and eight."

  "That can't be true, with all the servants-"

  "They would have spent the day with their families," she explained. "Yalla, I'm not putting you on. I wore a very similar outfit for my ten and eighth birthday." She paused. "Yalla, this is important."

  "You're not going to let me hide in my room until the party, are you?"

  "Of course not. You have bread to make, after all, and I believe the queen expects your attendance."

  "My attendance..." I said, my nervousness increasing. "Everyone will see me in the hallways."

  "Not as many as will see you at court."

  "At court?" I squeaked.

  "Of course."

  "I don't think I'm feeling very well, Your Highness." I turned away and stared into the mirror. I'd been so excited for this day to arrive, and now I could see the writing on the wall.

  Juleena said nothing at first, but I heard the creak of my bed, and then she said, "Come sit with me, Yalla."

  "You're going to try to talk me into accepting this graciously. I'm not feeling gracious." Then I turned around in my chair. "And I don't appreciate learning about these traditions this way. I still think this is some sort of joke you're playing on me."

  "Come sit." She'd pulled my covers into place, not as well as Mellara would when she came in, but adequately enough, and she was leaning against the headboard. The hated outfit was laid across the foot of the bed. I sighed, rose to my feet, then sat down on the bed beside her.

  "I bet you knew about all these traditions for your ten and eighth."

  "I knew about many of them, including this one," she said. "But it is the tradition that you are not actually told of them ahead of time. I do not believe Muranna knew of them, but I couldn't be sure."

  "She could have warned me."

  "I told her I would be very vexed if she did."

  "I'm not sure I love you anymore," I said quite sternly.

  "Mother didn't make me attend court."

  "Ha! But she's going to make me?"

  "My birthday is in the summer, and it fell on market day. We spent the first half of the day in the market together."

  "Dressed like that," I said with a gesture.

  "Yes."

  "Was it busy?"

  "Packed," she said. "Most of Marport knew to expect us. She had us walk, and the streets were lined with people."

  "Were you embarrassed?"

  "No."

  "Why not?"

  It was Juleena's chance to gesture. "This clothing is not meant to be embarrassing, not exactly. It is, however, meant to force you out of your normal comfort zone. And, as I said, to let absolutely everyone who sees you know it is your birthday of ten and eight."

  "I bet you're not telling me everything yet."

  "I'm not. Yalla, you're going to wear it, and you're going to attend court. You are the one who will decide if you will do so graciously."

  "When do you tell me the rest?"

  "Once you put that on."

  I turned my head away. She was seated on the side of the bed closest to the windows, and so I stared at the doorway for a while. Juleena said nothing, letting me work my way through it. I brushed a couple of tears away. I'm sure she noticed, but she said nothing.

  I'm not sure how long we sat there in silence. Five minutes? Perhaps ten. Probably not longer than that.

  "You swear you aren't lying?"

  "I have never lied to you, Yalla. Not once."

  "Did you know she was going to make you go to market?"

  "No, although I wasn't surprised when she told me."

  I sighed. "I'm not happy with you, Your Highness."

  "I know."

  "You could have let Muranna warn me."

  "I'm not sure she would have," Juleena replied. "She wanted to be the one sitting here with you."

  "Why isn't she?"

  "For a variety of reasons."

  "Tell me one."

  "Muranna cannot tell you she has never lied to you. I can."

  "She hasn't lied to me." Juleena s
aid nothing. "You have no evidence, Your Highness!"

  "Are you going to get dressed, Yalla?"

  I sighed and climbed to my feet. I moved down to the foot of the bed and stared at everything. Then I bent over and began pulling the individual pieces apart. It turned out there were undergarments and hosiery, which I hadn't seen at first. I turned my back on Juleena and proceeded to undress and then dress, pulling each of the garments into place. Excepting the belt and hat, the jumper was last, and it was truly garish. I turned back and looked at Juleena. She was watching with a small smile.

  I knew I looked absolutely ridiculous. Worse, I knew I'd garner attention. I'd never grown comfortable being the center of attention, which was another reason Muranna and I were so good together. But not only would I garner attention, I was sure it wouldn't even be positive attention.

  I thought about expressing my ire. I really wasn't happy. And maybe she had been gracious for her birthday, but I wasn't sure I was going to be able to achieve the same level of poise. Without a word I pulled the jumper over my head, arranged it, then added the belt. I thought about what she'd said about my hair and ran to the mirror.

  Behind me, Juleena laughed. "At least you're beginning to take me seriously," she said as I adjusted the pigtails. "Don't forget the belt and hat."

  "Laugh it up," I said sullenly. "What would you have done if I hadn't attended to my hair?" I watched her in the mirror, my back still towards her.

  "Something unpleasant," she said quite matter-of-factly.

  I spun to face her. "Seriously?"

  "Yes. And you're almost certainly going to get caught, Yalla. Are you going to be gracious?"

  "No."

  She didn't say anything, but even I knew I was being childish. I didn't care.

  "Will you at least explain why?" I asked.

  "Over the course of the day, everything will become clear. The belt and hat now, and then let me take a look at you."

  "So you can find an excuse to punish me?"

  "The belt and hat, Yalla."

  I offered a brief glare but collected the belt from the bed. I set it in place about my hips then asked, "Does it need to be tight?" I moved to the mirror and fiddled with it, trying various positions, then adjusting it until it sat loose on my hips. "It looks best like this."

  Juleena didn't say anything. I finally turned to face her and set a hand on my hip. She gazed at me dispassionately, but I thought perhaps it wasn't as dispassionate as she made herself appear. I stared at her, waiting for some real response.