by Dave Higgins
Her father’s eyes lit up. “The Women of Tangen. What a great idea for a monograph. Without them, we—”
“I’m not going. You need to stop treating me like a child.”
“Then stop acting like one. We all have duties we don’t enjoy. Your mother doesn’t want to be holding council right now, but she’s in there. She doesn’t want to meet the King of West Nontems to discuss our borders, but she’s going to.”
Peony sighed and shook her head. There was no talking with her father; or with her mother for that matter. They were both utterly unreasonable. Neither of them would even consider letting her travel south to the Kingdom of Bad Elbow. She’d heard there were dragons there. However, as soon as she’d mentioned perhaps, maybe, going there to take a look and possibly fighting just a small one, her father had gone white and refused to talk about it any more.
“I don’t care! I’m not going and you can’t make me!” She stormed from the room and straight into her mother’s shoulder. Peony rubbed her nose and scowled.
“What’s all this shouting about?” Daffodil asked. “We can hear it from the council chamber.”
“Peony, tell her.” Her father’s words came out chewed around the edges.
Fighting her mother’s glare, Peony shook her head then glowered at her father.
“Fine,” Edmond said. “Peony doesn’t want to go to the conference.”
Daffodil sighed and rolled her shoulders. “So don’t make her.”
“But we said she should. It’ll be good for her.”
“You said she should.” Daffodil rolled her eyes. “I didn’t say anything, because I was busy reading reports from the west about our borders.”
“You could have put them down for a moment. This is our daughter. Don’t you think she warrants a few minutes of your attention?”
Daffodil’s eyes flashed with fire. Chin jutting, she focused on Edmond.
Peony eased against the wall, scared to take a breath and risk their ire focusing back on her.
“Do I think she’s worth it?” Daffodil asked. “Who do you think I’m running this kingdom for, if it’s not for you and her? Why do you think I work every moment I’m awake, if it’s not to keep you in books and fine quills?”
“I work long hours too. On my research.”
“It’s not even real magic. It’s just a bunch of ideas.”
“Theories.” Edmond’s chin rose. “And theoretical magic is more important than practical magic. Practical magic can change one person’s day, but—”
“—theoretical magic can change the future of the whole world.” Peony regretted speaking the moment her parents’ attention snapped back to her.
“Don’t make her go,” Daffodil said. “She can stay here.”
Peony stared at her mother, wondering if she’d lost her mind. She never let Peony do what she wanted.
“In fact,” Daffodil said. “She can rule in our stead while we’re gone. One day she’ll be queen.”
Edmond raised his hand, ready to count off yet another five-point response; but a glance from Daffodil silenced him.
“Fine,” Peony said. “I’ll rule while you’re gone and make sure everything gets done.”
“I’m sure you will,” Daffodil said. “Listen to your advisers and you’ll be fine. They’ve served me well.”
Peony grinned. Without her parents around, there were so many things to do; so many rules to break. The guards would have to obey her orders instead of saluting then reporting her to whichever parent was closer.
The guards would have to obey her orders! She could order them to train with her. She could fight the gruff sergeant of the guard.
“Good.” Daffodil gave a monarchical chin dip. “That’s settled.”
Peony hurried out before they changed their minds. As she strode down the corridor, she heard her parents start the next episode of their serialised argument. They couldn’t even share the same room any more without shouting at each other. The only thing that stopped them arguing was criticising her life choices; and they even made that about the other’s failures most of the time.
She had trouble understanding what they’d ever seen in one another. Their interests were so different that they had nothing in common to talk about. Last time Peony had snuck into the kitchens, the head cook had been threatening to hit her wife with a stock pot. The villagers Peony met when she managed to sneak out were always complaining about their spouses never being home, or constantly being under their feet. Perhaps all relationships were doomed to end up like that. Moments of happiness, followed by years of shouting and growing apart.
But it was too joyful a day to dwell on old people’s problems. She bounced into her bed’s problems. She bounced into the chambers. Stephanie, her lady-in-waiting and best friend, turned from the dress she was laying out, curiosity constrained by the remains of her etiquette.
“Guess what?” Peony grabbed Stephanie by the waist and tried to whirl her around. “I don’t have to go to the stupid conference. Instead, they’re leaving me in charge of the whole castle while they’re gone.”
“As regent?”
“I don’t know what it’s called. I get to order people around.”
“That’s a regent.” Stephanie broke free.
Peony rolled her eyes. “If you say so. This means we can do anything we like for two weeks.”
“Sure.” Stephanie pulled a pair of lint tweezers from her chatelaine and returned to the dress.
“I thought you’d be more excited. After all, it means we can have a dance.”
Stephanie’s eyes met Peony’s, the lint tweezers forgotten. “A dance?”
“With boys. We can invite anyone we like.”
Stephanie bounced up, then sank down again, the sparkle in her eyes gone. “Not anyone. Your mother wouldn’t allow it.”
“Anyone.” Peony grabbed her shoulders. “Didn’t you hear me? I’m in charge for two weeks. I’m queen, I can invite anyone we want.”
“Regent,” Stephanie said.
“Find my writing desk. I’m going to make the invitations now.” Peony tilted her head in a poor imitation of innocence. “Does Duke Hapbert have one ‘p’ or two? Not that you’ll know. You probably can’t even remember what he looks like.”
Stephanie hid her blush and scurried to fetch Peony’s writing desk.
Ignoring her friend’s attempts to get the desk back without slopping ink everywhere, Peony tried to remember the addresses of a few grizzled heroes. No sense wasting time with socialising when she could be getting tips on defeating monsters. Perhaps one of them would even invite her on their next adventure.
* * *
A few days later, Peony sat in her usual spot: an open alcove that looked out over the courtyard. There were better places to hide from lectures, but this one had the best view of the training pen and the gate. Near which, her father and mother were supervising the loading of their carriage. Half the garrison stood mounted nearby, ready to ride out beside Queen Daffodil as a show of strength. Quite how forty soldiers was a show of strength, Peony wasn’t sure; but it meant fewer people questioning her when she wanted to do something fun, so she was in favour of it.
“We might have met a dashing foreign prince.” Stephanie stared at the carriage, her head tilted.
“A bird in the hand,” Peony said. “Duke Hapbert is worth two foreign princes any day, even if he has a silly— Stop that. You’re not allowed to poke royalty.”
The sound of Edmond and Daffodil arguing about crushed scrolls interrupted Peony’s teasing. “They should break up. They’re not happy together.”
Stephanie gasped, her face turning pale. “They’re married. How can you say things like that? Besides, what would happen to the kingdom?”
Peony shrugged. “I’m sure someone could take over. Maybe you and Hapbert?”
“Preposterous.” Stephanie drew her head back and her eyebrows rose, but a light glimmered in her eyes. “The kingdom is yours to inherit, not mine.”<
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“And I don’t want it. I guess I’m stuck with it, though, so I might as well do something fun.”
“We should say goodbye to your parents.”
Peony considered her mother and father. The argument over scroll-crushing had expanded to cover the highlights of anything either of them had ever done involving a scroll. Some of the complaints were so old they’d reached the ‘What about…!? That’s nothing compared to…!’ stage. “We’ll see them in two weeks. It’s not like they’re going for long.”
Stephanie sighed the way she did when she was disappointed in Peony but didn’t want to say anything.
“We can’t anyway.” Peony pointed. “Their carriage is already leaving.”
Guards trotted ahead, as the procession moved through the gate. Peony giggled. She was in charge of the whole kingdom. And somewhere in it there was something fun to do.
Before she could think of anything, someone coughed. Smoothing already tidy, grey hair to one side, a stooped man took a half step forward. Hendrix the chamberlain was never far from Daffodil’s side, but Peony didn’t know what he did exactly.
“Your Royal Highness.” His piercing blue eyes were almost hidden beneath sagging eyelids.
Peony curtsied to him, hoping it was appropriate.
“Your presence is required in the council chamber,” Hendrix said. “We have a few items that need the regent’s ruling.”
She considered for a moment. It was still early morning; she had plenty of time for whatever it was a chamberlain did.
* * *
Peony’s chin slipped off her hands, but she stopped herself head-butting the table. Hendrix was well into his second hour on how the taxes from the eastern region weren’t as high as the harvests indicated they should be. From what she’d seen, there was more than enough money to cover the costs of everything. Hendrix, however, insisted otherwise in the most long-winded terms imaginable.
“Your Highness, what’s your determination?”
“What you said,” Peony said. “Do the thing you recommended.”
“Very good,” Hendrix said with a small smile.
“Can I go now?” She eyed the door.
“Of course.” Hendrix bowed. “As regent, you can do anything you please. Check with the almoner, Emra, though.”
Peony made a note not to do that and hurried for the door. She flung it open, ready to run off and find Stephanie and have an adventure. Instead of freedom, she found a dour woman dressed from head to toe in brown sackcloth, with a hood pulled tight around the edges of her worn face.
“Emra, I’m guessing,” Peony said.
“Indeed, Your Royal Highness. I need a moment.”
“Now isn’t a good time.”
“As you command. I’ll turn the orphans away.”
“Orphans?”
“The starving ones. From the villages and towns of Green Moss. They’ve come to beg for a few coppers to eat. But if you’re busy, I’ll tell them to come back tomorrow. They probably won’t starve overnight.”
Peony felt the trap clamp shut around her. “Fine. Let’s go see these orphans.”
Emra beamed as she led the way to the throne room. Two dozen children with bare feet and muddy faces looked up as Peony entered.
“All right. Do we give them a few coins and let them go on their way?”
“Oh no,” Emra said. “It’s the fourth of May.”
Peony looked around for Stephanie, remembering protocol was her job. Her friend was nowhere to be seen, though.
“The fourth of May?” Emra’s smile withered. “When the ruler of Green Moss washes the hands, feet, and faces of the poorest children in the kingdom? Why else would there be so many here?”
“So many?” Peony counted again to make sure she hadn’t missed some.
“These are just the first. There’ll be more arriving all day. Should I ask the servants to bring in warm water?”
Peony felt her day of adventure recede. But she couldn’t abandon children. She had two weeks as regent; she could spend a day washing faces. First thing tomorrow morning, she was going on an adventure, even if she had to climb out her bedroom window to do it.
* * *
The last rays of sun crawled from the throne room. Peony’s fingers were crinkled from the water and sore from scrubbing. She doubted some of the children had ever been washed in their lives. It had taken serious effort to get them passably clean. But any time she’d attempted to cut corners, Emra had been there with a stern look to force her to try harder.
Stephanie, meanwhile, had been nowhere in sight all day. As the last little girl left the throne room, Peony’s errant lady-in-waiting appeared.
“Where have you been?” Peony asked.
“Seeing to Duke Hapbert,” Stephanie said. “He arrived just after midday.”
“The ball isn’t until Monday. What’s he doing here two days early?”
“I don’t know.” Stephanie studied the tips of her satin slippers, her air of nonchalance ruined by a huge grin. “I suppose we’ll have to entertain him until the others arrive.”
Peony shook her head and snorted. She wouldn’t be surprised if Stephanie had artfully smudged the invitation to change the date somehow. Regardless, it would make her friend happy to have the duke around for a couple of extra days.
Chapter 6
Hungry
Peony’s stomach rumbled as she made her way to the feast hall. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Which wasn’t that unusual, but she normally had an adventure to distract her. Sitting still had made her hungrier than dodging guards and running through fields.
Everyone rose to their feet as she entered. She made for her usual seat, but Stephanie’s firm hand steered her toward her mother’s chair instead.
Peony eased into the slight dent in the cushion. The chair seemed wider than she expected; did her mother use the armrests? She shuffled back, but stopped when her knees hit the front.
Stephanie coughed. Peony realised everyone in the hall was looking at her, waiting for her to tell them they could sit. She waved them to their seats and turned her attention to the roast pig in front of her.
Stephanie coughed again..
“Are you coming down with a cold?” Peony asked.
“The duke.” Stephanie indicated a young man with a clean face and swoopy hair nearby. “You’re regent. You need to welcome him with a speech.”
“A speech?” Peony dragged her gaze around the ring of expectant faces and swallowed hard. She wasn’t used to talking in front of crowds. She’d seen her mother do it, and it was the only thing her father did that didn’t involve a quill. How hard could it be, if her parents could manage it? She raised her goblet of wine. “People of Blackcrest, it’s my honour to take over as your regent, if only for such a short time. I can’t claim to fill my mother’s formidable shoes, but with your help, I’ll do my best.
“Welcome Duke Hapbert to our court. It pleases me greatly to see you and your people. We’ve enjoyed a happy alliance I hope will continue for a long time to come.”
Peony toasted the duke, who nodded his appreciation back. Relaxing, she watched over the rim as everyone in the hall did the same. After swallowing a large gulp, she raised an eyebrow at Stephanie. “Happy?”
“Stunned, more like. I didn’t know you had it in you.”
“Charisma, remember. At least it’s useful for something.”
“Just think what you’d accomplish if you tried.”
Peony snorted and hacked a chunk of meat from the roast pig. Salty fatty joy flooded her mouth. Now that was a good use for a tongue.
As she ate, she couldn’t help noticing the duke’s eyes on her. She did her best to look the other way and discourage him. He was meant to be here for Stephanie, not her. She had no interest in becoming his consort. Luckily, he was far enough away that conversation was impractical.
She escaped as soon as possible, leaving the rest of the court to post-dinner drinking and definitely-not-gossiping.
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Stephanie caught up as she rounded the second corner. “Wrong way.”
Peony frowned. “I think I know the way to my room.”
“That’s not your room at the moment,” Stephanie said. “You’re regent, remember? You need to sleep in the royal bedchamber.”
“Eww.” Peony wrinkled her nose. “I don’t want to sleep in my parents’ bed.”
“You have to. It’s bad luck for the ruler of the kingdom to sleep anywhere else.”
“Bad luck? You believe in things like that? Luck is a skill, not anything to do with the bed I sleep in.”
“I know that.” Stephanie tried to look worldly. “But most people are superstitious. If you sleep in your own room, every little slip and fall will be attributed to it. Let alone if something goes badly wrong. Please, it’s only for two weeks.”
“Eww, fine,” Peony huffed. “But you owe me.”
“I’ll take it off the tally of how many you owe me.”
“That’s a cheeky thing to say to a regent. I could have you executed.”
“You wouldn’t last a day without me.”
Peony changed direction and stomped to her parents’ room. The guards stiffened even further as she approached, but ignored her smile. Realising that ordering them to smile back would only make her feel less comfortable with the whole situation, she pushed the doors open. It felt wrong to be entering her parents’ room when they weren’t home, as if she was violating their trust somehow.
The bed dominated the room, as over-sized as the chair had been in the feast hall. She guessed it was to impress people, but it looked as if it hadn’t been built for a normal-sized human. Who would you need to impress in a bedroom, anyway? Although, her mother was always complaining about endless emergency meetings, so maybe royalty had to be ready to hold court in a nightshirt.
“Don’t worry, I’ve changed the sheets,” Stephanie said.
“Okuuhh.” Peony fought a second yawn. The hearty meal had worn her out still further. She sagged further and let Stephanie help her out of her dress. Watching her handmaiden try to turn back the sheets and plump the pillows at the same time, Peony realised her friend was eager to get back to the party. “You can go.”