by Guy Antibes
“And you can call me Sara,” she forced a smile. The woman’s facial and body language screamed malevolence at Sara.
“In a few minutes, after Terrant is here, we will present you.”
“The King will attend?” The invitation made no mention of a royal reception.
“He has a couple of things to announce.” Millis smiled, purposefully enigmatic. Sara imagined venom dripping from her mouth and was happy that she didn’t choose an orange dress—Millis looked awful in it. Luckily, all she had to do was withdraw a few paces and let Millis greet more of her guests.
“The King of Parthy!” said the distinguished servant, who must have been Millis’ butler. The party quieted down with the swishing of fabric as women curtseyed and the men bowed.
King Terrant looked resplendent in a cream military jacket with dark brown wool pants sporting a black silk strip along the outside seams.
“Sara, Countess of Brightlings,” he walked past Millis, nodding to her and took Sara’s hands. “It’s a pleasure to see you again. I’m sure you’ve been diligently working on our project, eh? You look wonderful tonight. That is a Tollson gown is it not? It’s obvious you’ve found the best dressmaker in the kingdom—even the doughty old king knows a Tollson when he sees one.” He looked over at Millis and smiled. Sara could see the seething anger underneath that placid face.
The words were spoken in a silent ballroom. Every person heard the king’s words and Sara felt very conspicuous standing next to him, especially when she realized that they had coordinating outfits. Could Tollson be the King’s tailor? She could hear a few comments spoken a little louder than intended about how nice they looked together.
He led her out a few steps out onto an empty dance floor and said, “This is Sara, Countess of Brightlings, who fought her way through Shattuk Downs to rescue my brother from under the Grand Duke’s nose. Her title pales at her actual accomplishments and at such a young age. We don’t have any drinks in our hands, perhaps applause might replace a toast.”
Sara didn’t expect the applause to be quite so enthusiastic, but as she looked at the faces, the hands clapped louder in appreciation than many of the faces looked. The King lifted her hand and she curtseyed to the crowd. She glanced at Millis, who didn’t clap at all, although she gave Sara a forced smile.
“I have another announcement of at least equal importance.” The King laughed alone. He dropped Sara’s hand, and she stepped back among the crowd as he took Millis’ hand. “I intend on making Millis Shields your next queen. Tradition holds that we are engaged for at least four seasons, therefore, we will wed at Summer’s Rise next year.” They both bowed to cheers and applause.
The nobles were very much in agreement with the development but Sara felt nothing but shock. How could such a nice man marry such a shrew? Queen? The very prospect soured the taste in Sara’s mouth as she thought of Millis as her aunt. She looked to be about Grianna Worthy’s age—her mid-thirties—young enough to bear more heirs for the King.
It was Sara’s turn, struggling to produce a convincing smile as Millis and the King turned to her.
“Congratulations, your Majesty and Lady Shields. I wish you the best, although I understand that having to wait more than a year might be an unbearable length of time.”
Millis actually put the back of her hand to her forehead, “We must do what we must do for the State.”
Sara couldn’t believe the blatant posturing. She looked at the King and he looked enthralled, which seemed to be an appropriate word for a man who seemed doomed to marry a black widow.
“The State?” King Terrant said. “You sound like a Belonnian!” He laughed and perhaps he saw through her act, just a little. His comment gave Sara a bit of hope.
Being upstaged by the second of the two announcements suited Sara insofar that her accomplishments paled in contrast to the engagement, which would be the talk of the entire country. She mingled a bit as a few people came up to her and asked her about her adventures. They had a better knowledge of the events of Shattuk Downs than she thought they would.
King Terrant had only stayed for half an hour or so and as the night wore on, Sara ended up on the opposite side of the ballroom from Millis. She noticed that the nobles to whom she took a quick dislike gravitating to the black widow and a different group, some older, some younger, none as opulent, spent more time talking to her.
“You’ve noticed,” a mature woman said, looking across the dance floor. She was younger than Willa but older than Lady Grianna. “It happens at most event. Millis has her cabal and then there is the rest of us—lovely gown, by the way, a Tollson?”
Sara nodded; evidently her gown had done its work. “Who exactly is the cabal?” Sara said, interested in such a frank observation.
“They look for progress in the kingdom,” the woman nodded towards Millis, “wishing for us to be more like Belonnia.”
“Have they ever been? I hear it’s a horrid place.”
The woman nodded, “I’ve been to their capital, Okalla—an oppressive city with its black buildings.” She shivered. “I couldn’t wait to get back to Parth and breath in the fresh air. However there are some who are attracted to the appeal of elite power. At it’s upper reaches, Belonnia is more like the old nobility when Parthy had a feudal system and they don’t realize that all are serfs under the Emperor’s rule, even the elite. King Terrant has changed all of that, but they,” she nodded across the room, “are blinded by power.”
“Are you worried about the King’s engagement, then?” Sara ventured to be honest with the woman.
“I am and you should be too, Countess. I’m sure Millis sees you as a rival. It’s obvious you have the King’s favor, if not some of his ancestral blood, if I might be so bold.”
Sara flushed. “I have Passcold blood in my veins, but from where I’m not quite sure,” she said. “I can only hope I can live up to it.” The same disease that wracked Shattuk Downs had made its way into the nobility in Parth. Could she talk to Duke Northcross about it? She didn’t know where he stood on the subject and wouldn’t want to jeopardize their relationship if there were on opposite sides of the question.
“You are well on your way. You may count me as a friend. My name is Flora Evertrue.”
“Are you related to Lily Evertrue of Shattuk Downs?” If so, Flora couldn’t come across more differently than her niece.
“You know her? Oh, of course you do. I forget that you are Sara Featherwood of Shattuk Downs and knew her at the Women’s School. Lily is a niece, once removed. You may see her again sooner than you think. Excuse me, Countess, my escort is ready to whisk me away from here. We must get together sometime. I mean it.”
Sara drifted through the entire room generally giving highly edited versions of her exploits in Shattuk Downs and sought out Millis to thank her for the reception. She didn’t know if the evening pleased or disappointed her. She definitely didn’t like Millis, but she did like wearing such a notable gown with all of the compliments she received.
“Thank for such a lovely evening, Millis,” Sara said. The woman flinched slightly when Sara called her by her first name. “The king paid us both a great complement, but his kind words about me fades to nothing in comparison to the announcement of your engagement. I hope all goes well with the wedding.”
Millis simpered, but Sara could sense the calculation within it. “Yes, and you are more than you seem, Sara. I’m sure tells you that and I do hope that we will get together many times in the future. I’m very glad that we met under such delightful circumstances. We will have to meet for lunch or a private dinner sometime.”
One of Millis’s acquaintances barged in to say his goodbyes leaving Sara standing by herself as the black widow turned her back to her. She proceeded to the door and left. On the way back to the house, she compared the genuine extension of friendship from Flora Evertrue with the invitation from Millis. She concluded that the evening ended up in disappointment and the engagement distressed her to no
end.
~~~
Chapter Four
An Unexpected Houseguest
Sara looked out at the pelting rain from her sitting room. Puddles had formed in the courtyard. She had nothing to do, but perked up when a carriage arrived. She put down a History of Belonnia, written in Belonnian and walked to the front door to greet her visitor, thinking of Doctor Miller, the language professor who had turned out to be a Belonnian agent.
The maid opened the door to reveal Lily Evertrue. She looked as smartly dressed in Shattuk Down fashions as she did when she helped Sara get into the Grand Duke’s Palace in Stonebridge.
“They let you out of Shattuk Downs?”
Lily laughed, “Of course. My parents wouldn’t let me idle away my time when they heard about a Women’s College starting in Parth.” She produced a little pout that somehow matched her cynical nature. “I need a place to stay and the Duke suggested that I ask you if I could lodge here until I settled in.”
“You can stay as long as you’d like, but I thought you might stay with Flora Evertrue, your aunt. She warned that you might be infecting Parth,” Sara said, laughing. Lily’s face darkened a little. “My words not hers,” Sara smiled, happy that her friend had come to brighten her day.
Lily gave Sara a sideways glance. “She has put her clutches into your already? The woman is a political animal and as blunt and direct as a person could be—pro-royalty and all that—but she insists on nothing but the truth and I find that my style of oblique thought often clashes with hers, so I have come here.”
“And what ‘style’ of thought do you ascribe to me, Lily?”
“Probably more like my aunt’s, but we are the best of friends, aren’t we?”
Now Sara laughed, “Indeed we are and more similar in age, which also would affect your decision, am I not correct?”
Lily nodded.
“In any event, it seems that Willa has deserted me for a while during Women’s College renovations. She’s living with Banna Thresher at the College and I could use the company.” Sara stood aside as the driver brought in two trunks and three bags. “You are moving in.” Sara resigned herself to alot of shopping in the near future.
“Of course I am,” Lily said. Her attitude reminded her of Lady Grianna Worthy, but Lily could ladle out cynicism better than Grianna ever could. She walked past Sara and examined the foyer. “A nice enough little house. Where did you ever find it?”
“Where did you ever know to look for me here?” Sara said, still mystified by Lily’s appearance.
“As I said, Klark and Duke Northcross mentioned that you might take me in for a while.”
Sara’s face heated up. She grabbed at the carriage necklace she still wore. “How is Klark?” Her breath shortened.
“He’s fine and pining as much for you and you are obviously pining for him. I hope you two eventually get together.”
Eventually get together… the statement made Sara pause. She thought about Klark but did she ever picture them getting together? She found that her thoughts of him never went further than just walking the streets of Parth together and that startled her.
Lily rushed past her and ascended the stairs. “Where will I stay?” Lily assumed that Sara would agree to take her in, and she was right.
“To your left at the top of the stairs.” Sara had a guest room and a sparsely furnished fourth bedroom. Lily would stay in the fourth bedroom. “It’s the door on your right.”
“Oh.” Sara heard the disappointment in Lily’s voice and smiled. “I suppose I can make this a little nicer.”
“Feel free, Lily,” Sara said standing on the stairs. “The furniture is all well made, if a little plain, but the room is large. It looks out on my neighbor’s garden.”
“It has it’s own bathroom, that’s quite nice.” Lily’s faint voice, as she wandered in the room sounding a bit more relieved.
“All of the upstairs bedrooms do.”
“Then this will do nicely. I hope your benefactor won’t mind if I spend a little of my own money and turn it into a slice of heaven.” Lily came to the doorway of the room.
“But you’ll only be here for a…”
“Until I get settled in Parth, but I think I might like to live in your comfortable house for the time being… if that is acceptable to the Countess.” Lily curtseyed and then went back to her new bedroom.
Willa stayed upstairs on Sara’s side of the stairs facing the courtyard and Sara didn’t know when she’d return. She could be at the College until the end of summer and Sara had worried about moping around, all alone in the house. That wouldn’t be the case with Lily moving in.
“Get settled then. I suppose it will be like the Women’s School again,” Sara called to Lily, who remained poking around her bedroom as Sara still stood in the hallway at the top of the stairs. Lily had been on the same floor as Sara in the Duchess rooms at Obridge during Sara’s first term.
“Better, Sara, much better,” Lily said.
~
Lily asked to be dragged along to the meeting Banna held at the grounds at the Women’s College. Sara didn’t have a good reason to deny her wish. They descended from a hired carriage and walked towards a large building that the former commanding officer of the camp once occupied. Workers were laying a stone facing over the red brick sides of the structure.
Willa walked out to greet them. “Welcome. Lily, it’s nice you could visit us.”
Lily looked around at all of the workers on the properties. “My, you are so industrious.” Her tone of voice betrayed a load of condescension.
An expression of anger flew across Willa’s face. “I have to be productive, Lily. It’s in my peasant blood.”
“Promise me that you’ll keep it there,” Lily said as she swept into the house in front of Sara and Willa.
Sara had to shrug. “She wanted to come,” she said quietly to Willa.
Willa’s workers had transformed the inside of the house. The dwelling smelled of fresh paint and wallpaper paste. Simple, but plush rugs littered the new dark hardwood floors. For every furnished room another would be empty. Everything seemed to be a work-in-progress.
They entered a long narrow room sized for dining. It had two desks facing each other but separated by a long table, full of building plans and site drawings.
“This is our war room,” Willa said. Sara had been here before, but since it was Lily’s first visit, Willa stood with her fists on her hips waiting for some denigrating quip.
Banna entered from a rear door. ‘Lily, I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“I’ve been banished for a time from Stonebridge. Duke Northcross suggested that I stay with Sara and I wanted to see how you were progressing on your utterly ambitious project.”
Banna furrowed her brow and then sighed. ‘Well this is it. I suppose you wouldn’t mind sitting in on our little progress meeting today?”
“As long as you’ve made better than ‘little progress’,” Lily laughed haughtily. Sara wondered how much of what Lily said, she intended as probes for reaction. She identified Lily’s laugh as a probe and not what she really felt.
“Our work moves forward at different speeds. Have a seat.”
Two chairs from either side of the walls were brought forward facing each other. Sara faced Willa. It was plain the woman had no desire to share information with Lily, but Banna didn’t seem to be fazed.
Willa started. “We only have to build a library. The barracks buildings can be converted to dormitories and classrooms, but the library needs to be purpose-built to protect the books. Smaller windows, thicker walls, more square.”
“Have you a copy of the University’s library layout?” Sara asked.
Willa looked down her nose at the papers strewn on the table. “Like this? Courtesy of your friend Obed Handy.” Willa nodded to Banna and then looked at Lily. “The University refused to let us stock our own books in their library and refused us access privileges as well. The existing buildings should be complet
e by mid-summer. So we can get started stocking a temporary library immediately while a new one is built from the ground up.”
“Sara, did you hear from our last two teachers?”
“The Geography professor accepted, but we don’t have an Interpretive Languages instructor. Jerra Talltree declined after accepting and I suppose her father, Doctor Talltree of the University Languages department, prevailed upon her to refuse our offer.”
Banna nodded. “Perhaps I’ll send a letter to Lisha Temple to inquire if she knows of someone.” She sighed. “There are a couple of candidates in Obridge, but I don’t want to deplete the Women’s School.”
Lily, who had been playing with the end of a site plan, looked up. “Lisha? She’s available and is currently staying with her aunt in Stonebridge. The trustees of the Women’s School appointed a permanent Headmistress, Uria Greenleaf, and Lisha decided not to stay at the School. It seems the both of them are not the best of friends.”
“She’s more suited for Headmistress than Lisha, that’s for sure,” Banna said. “Knowing Lisha, I didn’t expect her to stay if I didn’t return, anyway.”
Sara thought the sentiment a bit harsh on Banna’s part, but she’d love to see Lisha again. The woman easily found ways to intimidate Sara, but she was more open and genuine about it than Lily, who had continued to make Sara feel like a twelve-year-old whenever she felt like it.
“I’ll call an academic meeting in a week at the faculty building.”
Willa looked sharply at Banna. “Two weeks, if you don’t want to sit on an unfinished floor.”
Banna blinked. “Then two weeks we’ll hold our academic meeting and discuss the first term curricula.”
Sara sat back. With the hiring of the instructors, assuming Lisha would accept, her duties were complete.
Lily leaned forward, “I suppose you’re running into some political problems?”