by Vicky Savage
“Hold on Jade, just stop right there!” he says harshly. “Don’t even start down that road. I told you why you are here—it is a mistake. There is nothing you are supposed to be doing here. You aren’t even supposed to be here. The whole damned system has been bollixed-up because you are here!”
I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. I stare at him, my mouth hanging open. Anger and hurt ripping my insides.
He exhales a long breath and sits down beside me on the bale of hay. “Forgive me child, I didn’t mean to be cruel. Of course, none of this is your fault. I miscalculated. I never should have allowed you to assist in Ryder’s escape from Warrington.”
I blink back the tears pressing behind my eyes. “I don’t get it. Why?”
“Because it emboldened him to come to you at the lake. I didn’t think he’d risk it.”
“Geez, Ralston, the guy kidnapped me. You can’t get much bolder than that. Besides, you couldn’t have stopped me from helping him. It was my fault he was there in the first place. I had to do it for me.”
He studies my face a moment. “Sometimes you are wise beyond your years, my dear. Life has a way of taking its own course, doesn’t it? I shouldn’t have to be reminded of that.”
I have a strong sense he’s holding something back. “Ralston, what aren’t you telling me?”
“All I can say for certain, Jade, is that you are going home soon. That should make you very happy. Cherish the moments you have left with your mother. Your time with her is short.”
“How short?”
“Two weeks, perhaps three at the outside.”
“Will I still have time to visit my father?” I ask in alarm. There are so many things I want to do before I go.
“Yes.”
“And spend more time with my mother?”
“Yes.”
“And go to Unicoi?”
“And travel to Unicoi, if that is still your wish,” he says.
“Are you saying I should cancel my trip?”
“I’m not saying anything. That has to be your decision. You must divide your remaining time as you see fit.”
I stand and face him. “Quit handling me, damn it Ralston! Just tell me the right thing to do.”
“Jade,” he says with infuriating calm. “There is no right or wrong here. It has to do with the choices we make. It must be your decision. That’s how it works.”
“You know you’re not much help for someone whose whole purpose here is to guide me. Are you sure you read the whole IUGA handbook, because I think you skipped the chapter on giving advice and counsel.”
“It’s still your life, my dear, no matter where you are living it. I can do my utmost to keep you safe. I can gently nudge you back onto the proper path if you are straying far afield, but I cannot make the hard choices for you.”
“Yeah? Well thanks for nothing.” I snatch my sword from the floor and storm out of the barn.
By the time I reach my room, I’ve cooled off enough to feel a little guilty for biting Ralston’s head off. I toss my sword in the corner and flop face down on my bed, smearing sweat and grime all over the satiny white coverlet. Who cares? A fresh one will replace it in the morning anyway.
Ralston’s right, of course. I have no future here. I belong in another world. I’m not doing Ryder any favors by letting this—whatever it is—blossom between us. He has enough on his plate without getting involved with someone who’s about to disappear from his life forever. It won’t be easy keeping things impersonal between us, especially since we’ve already gone a bit beyond personal, and I’m not totally sure I can make the trip to Unicoi without finding myself in serious lip-lock with him again, but I have to try. I need to find some courage of my own… somewhere.
I wash up and change into clean clothes before I realize I’m starving. I need to order up some food, but I have one stop to make first.
The door to Ralston’s room is slightly ajar. I knock softly and stick my head inside. He’s in an easy chair near the fake fireplace, engrossed in an ancient looking book.
“Hey,” I say, and he looks up.
“Jade, come in.” He stays seated, smiling at me. As a matter of royal etiquette he’s supposed to rise when I enter the room, but he doesn’t strictly observe the technicalities when no one else is around.
“How about some lunch?” I ask.
“Thank you for the invitation, but I’ve just eaten.” He nods at a tray with the remnants of some sort of meat pie in a dish.
“Okay. Well,” I take a deep breath. “I’m here to say I’m sorry, Rals. I was such a… well, you know. I’m sorry I was so rude to you, and I know you’re right. There’s no future for me in Domerica or with…” I stare at the floor for a moment. “Ryder Blackthorn.” It hurts to say it out loud.
“Sit down, my dear,” he says and I take the chair across from him.
“Thank you for your apology. It is I who should be apologizing. I know this entire situation is stressful for you. But take heart, you will be home soon.”
“That’s great,” I say with more enthusiasm than I feel. “Ralston, about Unicoi… I think I still need to make the trip, because I committed to go, and because I’d like to try and help those people.”
He closes his book and his eyes find mine. “That’s honorable, Jade. I respect your decision. I will do all I can to ensure that things go smoothly for your trip.”
“Thanks.”
“Would you like to take a little ride after lunch?” he asks.
“That would be nice.”
“Shall we venture into town, or would something else interest you today?”
“Actually, I do have something in mind. On our trips to town I noticed a sign that said ‘Princess Jaden Home’ with an arrow pointing down a road to the east. I was wondering,” I say a little sheepishly, “if I have a home of my own, you know, other than Warrington Palace?”
He gazes at me a moment like he’s formulating a reply. “The answer to your question is yes. You do have a home of your own. It is called Meadowood, and it is very charming. But the sign you saw was not for Meadowood. It refers to a children’s home that was founded by Princess Jaden.”
“Oh, you mean like an orphanage?”
“Well, yes, some orphans are in residence there.” He lifts his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. “But the majority of the home’s occupants are ‘redundant’ children.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means children who are born illegally. By law in Domerica, married couples may have only two children. If a child is born to a family that already has two children, the child is considered redundant and is placed in such a home.”
I gape at him. “Are you serious?”
“I would not joke about such a thing.”
“Did my mother make that law too?”
“No. It has been in place for more than one hundred years.”
That makes me a little sick inside. “Ralston, I can’t get used to this… this dystopian-like society. I’m sorry, but my own mother seems so heartless sometimes.”
“Try to understand Jade, the law was instituted when a sudden population explosion caused a serious food shortage in Domerica. Fearing a future famine and severe overcrowding, Queen Caroline, the ruler at that time, put the law into place. It has stayed on the books. The children in these homes are treated very well. They are educated, clothed, and have all their needs provided for. Candidly, the law has served its purpose in Domerica. No food shortages or threats of overpopulation have occurred since that time.”
“But these kids are taken away from their parents! They’re not allowed to be with their families. That’s inhuman. How can you defend such a ridiculous law?”
“I am not defending it. I am simply saying that a reasonable person could view it as protecting the wellbeing of the realm. I believe your mother views it that way.”
“Oh, so you’re defending her. Are you sure she deserves it? Some of the things she does are tota
lly ruthless.”
“She’s a good person, Jade, I assure you. I hate to sound like a broken record, but spending a few weeks in Domerica does not make you an expert on its people or what it takes to govern this land. Please do not judge her too unkindly.”
I’m silent for a few seconds, confused, as usual. “Right and wrong seem a little less black and white here than they did back in the good old USA,” I tell him.
“Nothing is ever really black or white, Jade. It’s all a matter of degrees.”
“If you say so.” I rest my head in my hands. “I don’t think I’m up for a ride, after all.”
“Why don’t you eat and rest up for a bit, old girl. I think you may change your mind. I believe a ride in the fresh air would be just the thing to lift your spirits, and Roxanne hasn’t had a good exercise all week.” He leans over to pat my hand. “In any event, it’s better than sitting around here stewing about things.”
That’s for sure. “Okay,” I say dully, “I’ll meet you at the stables in half an hour,”
“Better make it an hour. I’m still recuperating from our little sparring session this morning. I’m afraid I’m not as young as I used to be.”
“Yeah, neither am I.” I sigh, feeling terribly old myself.
TWENTY-THREE
Our afternoon ride is refreshing and rejuvenating. We solemnly swear to stay within the palace lands, so we don’t have to drag our guards along. The blossoming beauty of the countryside always takes my breath away. I understand my mother wanting to preserve this lovely way of life, but is the cost worth it? I’m still not sure.
I’m in a much better mood as we make our way back to the palace. We ride placidly along until the courtyard comes into view and we catch sight of dozens of soldiers milling around the grounds—some on horseback carrying large banners, others clumped in small groups talking or playing dice.
“What’s going on?” I ask Ralston.
“It appears your mother is home, and she has brought some visitors with her. Those standards are from Dome Noir,” Ralston says, nodding to several large black and gold banners flying from long poles held by the liveried soldiers.
“Mother’s home!” I yelp. “That’s fantastic.”
“I’ll put Roxanne away for you if you want to go straight inside.”
“Thanks Rals.” I bound from Roxanne’s back, hurrying across the courtyard to the palace steps. I feel the eyes of the soldiers following me as I run, probably thinking my behavior unbecoming of a princess. But, I don’t care. I want my mother.
I take the steps two at a time, and Samuel opens the huge doors before I even reach them. “Where’s the queen?” I ask.
“In her office ma’am,” he says, bowing.
I dash to the third floor and throw open her door without knocking, startling my mother and the group of people gathered around her desk.
“Jaden.” She rises to hug me. “It’s good to see you, darling.”
I scan the collection of people in her office: LeGare, Cook, the head of housekeeping, the gamekeeper, and two others I don’t recognize.
“Mother, I’m sorry I interrupted. Is everything all right?”
“Yes dear… well no, actually. I sent a messenger from Dome Noir two days ago to inform the palace I would be arriving home today with a visiting dignitary. Unfortunately the messenger never reached the palace. I am disappointed to find that Warrington is completely unprepared for our arrival and, of course, I am concerned for the welfare of my messenger.”
“I’m so sorry Mother.”
“Yes, it is rather troubling. But, in any event, I am pleased to tell you that we have Prince Damien of Dome Noir with us for the week.” I remember his name from the silver chalices at Bartlett’s—King Philippe’s youngest son.
“You haven’t seen him since you were children. He plans to stay, sample our hunting, and spend some time renewing his acquaintance with you.” She puts her arm around my shoulder and steers me to the door.
“You must make yourself presentable now, dear. We have a private audience with the prince in two hours, before the dinner guests begin to arrive. Oh, I do hope we can gather a respectable turn-out for this important occasion on such short notice,” she says. “LeGare, are you certain you sent your fastest riders?”
“Yes, ma’am. And a number of nobles are already at court. The dining hall will be full, I assure you.”
“Cook, will we be able to feed them all?”
“Yes Your Highness, but it would’ve been nice to have had some advance warning,” she grumbles. “I can’t guarantee that we’ll have enough venison, and we’ve run out of fresh pommeras.” She sends a harassed look my way. I’ve been eating pommeras like they were M&Ms. “I don’t know what I’ll do for pies.”
“I’m sure you will work your miracles as you always do,” Mother cajoles. This pleases the chubby old curmudgeon so much she almost smiles.
“All right now, Jaden, go and bathe,” Mother says. “I’ll send Sylvia up with your dress.
“No! Not Sylvia. Send Maria,” I say.
“Oh, all right. Maria. I don’t have time to argue with you.”
Once in my room I shower quickly, washing out my yards of hair. Maria arrives as I’m attempting to yank the tangles out with a comb. Two of my mother’s young ladies-in-waiting are with her, one carrying a gorgeous lavender silk dress, the other carrying a stack of decorated boxes.
“Let me do that,” Maria says taking the comb from me. “You need some of my special tonic.”
She rubs tonic into the ends of my hair, and the tangles fall away smoothly as she combs. She styles it loosely down my back. I always have to be careful not to sit on it when she does that.
“The queen would like you to wear perfume and makeup tonight, Princess,” she says, opening the first two boxes to reveal containers of both. “Sarah will apply it for you. She is very skilled.”
“Perfume is okay. I mean all right,” I say, sniffing at one of the tiny bottles. “But you know I’m not really that into makeup.”
“Your mother would like you to look very special tonight for the prince,” Maria coaxes.
“Why? What’s the big deal?”
She looks surprised by my question and the two young girls behind her giggle. She shoos them out of the room, saying she will dress me by herself tonight.
“What’s going on Maria? What am I missing?” She’s a sweet girl, and we’ve become close in a way, even though technically she’s my servant.
“Please do not tell your mother I said this,” she whispers. “But I think she is hoping the prince will like you. You know—maybe for a wife.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
She shakes her head.
“But I’m supposed to be the Queen of Domerica after my mother. He lives in Dome Noir.”
“Yes, but he would live here. His older brother will be king when his father dies. I think Prince Damien and his father do not get along very well. I believe Damien is a bit of a gambler.”
“Oh, great.”
“But he is very handsome, and he would be your consort. You know, so you can produce an heir.”
An heir? Oh crap! I didn’t sign up for that.
“So, my mother’s playing matchmaker, huh? Well, I’m not ready to get married, and I’m definitely not ready to produce an heir. Maria, you’ve got to tell the queen that I’m deathly ill, and I can’t come down for dinner.” I have to find Ralston and make him hide me or help me fake a fever or something.
“Oh, but you must at least meet him.” She looks alarmed. “It would be a great insult for you to snub him after he has come all this way to seek your hand. Nothing requires you to accept him.”
“Yeah, what about my mother? She can be pretty forceful sometimes.”
“The queen wants a good marriage for you. Maybe it is with Prince Damien, maybe not. I think if you do not want him, she will not force you. Her mother did not force her. She had a choice.”
I consider this f
or a moment. Maria’s probably right. She knows more about Domerican traditions than I do. I guess I can be polite and pleasant to the prince and tell mother later that there’s not the slightest possibility I will consider marrying him or anyone else at this point.
“All right, all right,” I groan. “We’ll do a little make-up to make my mother happy. I’ll wear perfume and the fancy dress, and we’ll just get through this somehow.”
I know I should probably be more careful about what I say to Maria, but I trust her, she’s the closest thing I have to a girlfriend in this world—besides Ralston, that is. I’ve really missed having my BF, Liv, to talk to.