by Vicky Savage
Ralston removes his glasses and massages the bridge of his nose.
“Do you even need those things?” I ask him.
“What these?” He holds up his glasses. “Not really. The lenses are not corrective, but they do have some interesting properties.” He hands them to me and I put them on. Tiny built-in mirrors on the side of each lens provide a rear view.
“Hey, you can see behind you.”
“Yes. They also function as a camera. See this little decoration?” He shows me a tiny raised silver emblem near the hinge. “That is the shutter release. In addition, they have retinal analysis capabilities in order to identify other non-humans.”
“That’s so cool.”
He smiles. “Yes, they are rather remarkable. Now, let us return to the problem at hand.”
“Okay.” I give the glasses back, and he slips them on.
“Let’s begin with the easy part. What will the people think? Assuming you choose to care about such things. The facts will speak for themselves in certain respects. Erica is nearly past her first trimester, meaning she is nearly twelve weeks pregnant. You’ve been home for less than a month. It will be clear that the pregnancy predated your return.”
“That makes sense,” I say. “Hey wait a minute. How did you know how far along Erica’s pregnancy is? I didn’t even know. You got that information from somewhere else.” I nail him with my eyes. “You knew, didn’t you? You knew about the pregnancy before last night, and you didn’t tell me.”
“Calm down, Jaden,” he says quietly. “Yes. I admit I knew about it. I found out when I visited Agent Chelmsford two weeks ago. I didn’t tell you because I was ordered not to, and because I was informed that you would learn of the pregnancy prior to your wedding day and would have the opportunity to make your own decision. As I told you at that time, I was threatened with strict penalties if I divulge certain information to you.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “What about the attack on me? Did you know about that beforehand?”
“Of course not,” he says indignantly. “As I related to you after my meeting, the prediction models had not yet stabilized, so future events could not be accurately foreseen. Erica’s pregnancy happened prior to your return, and Agent Chelmsford was aware of it, but I have not met with him since. The attack was as much a surprise to me as it was to you.”
“Well, maybe you’d better pay Chelmsford another visit. That was too close a call. Why the hell didn’t he warn you?”
“I had planned to meet with him this week, after things settle down a bit. But, I assume that either Chelmsford knew you would be safe, and that is why we weren’t forewarned, or he was caught unawares also.”
Smoldering with anger, I fold my arms across my chest, slump down in my chair, and stare at the fountain.
“Jaden, I swear I’m telling you the truth. Can we get past this, please, and move on to the problem at hand?”
“I guess so,” I mumble, not looking at him. Echoes of Asher’s words replay in my head, He’s loyal to IUGA … They own him.
“It may interest you to know that the Domerican people are rather tolerant of their queens’ choice of spouses and their actions as far as matters of the heart are concerned.”
This intrigues me, so I suspend my snit in order to hear more about it. “Oh yeah, like what?”
“Well, one need look no further than your parents’ unorthodox relationship—separated, yet still married; your father running his own small country, not subject to your mother’s rule. Both of your parents remained respected and beloved by their subjects.
“More unusual situations have existed also. Take Queen Caroline. She had an eye for strapping young men and, after her husband died, she kept a succession of them in residence at the palace. Her friends she called them. Although most of them were stable hands or low-ranking soldiers, she dressed them in the finest couture, and had no qualms about taking them everywhere she went. She was still quite adored by the people, who simply turned a blind eye to her indiscretions.”
“Anyone else?” I ask.
“I could relate any number of stories, but perhaps the most relevant is that of Queen Millicent and her husband, King Terrance. The king was a notorious philanderer, but still doted on by the queen. It was rumored that, at the end of his life, he had no less than seven children by women other than his wife. Certainly Ryder’s situation is trivial by comparison.”
“I see what you mean. So you think it may cause some raised eyebrows at first, but people will just get over it?”
“Exactly. Although the other issue may be a bit thornier. Can you endure Erica’s presence as an integral part of Ryder’s life? She will be the mother of his child. How will you handle that?”
“I don’t know. That’s the whole problem. I’m not sure how I’ll feel.” I throw up my hands in frustration.
“But that is the magic of being human, Jaden. You can choose how you wish to feel about any given situation. You are uniquely capable of controlling your own emotions.”
“That’s a bunch of bull,” I say. “Maybe automatons can do that, but there are times I can’t control it. I just feel happy or angry or upset or whatever. It’s not a choice.”
“Nonsense. That may be true for a child, Jade, but it is not true for a grown woman. And you are a grown woman. Of course, your initial reaction to the news of Erica’s pregnancy was disappointment, even anger. That is a natural first reaction, but you have the ability to choose to accept the situation and change your attitude about Erica … or not.”
“I’m not sure I understand what you’re saying.”
“If you love Ryder and you wish to be happy with him, you must put aside your insignificant jealousies and self-indulgent disappointment and welcome this baby into your life. On your home earth, combined families are practically the norm these days. Have you thought about the fact that you will be this child’s stepmother? Search your heart, Jade. Is there room for a beautiful little baby? One perhaps with Ryder’s hair and eyes?”
The visual makes me smile.
“Can you conjure up some empathy for Erica? You once liked her for her spirit and kindness. She’s still the same woman. She could use your friendship at this time.”
“Friends? Come on, Rals, we could never be friends.”
“But you must. You cannot do this halfway, my dear. You must make peace with it, or it will eat you up from the inside out.”
“That’s asking an awful lot.”
“Perhaps, but it doesn’t take a prediction model to know that unless you are able to accomplish this, you and Ryder will never be completely happy. It’s your choice, my dear. Entirely your choice.”
I hate it when he’s right, and so smug about it. “Well, you’ve given me a lot to think about, Rals.” I stand and snag a leftover strawberry from his breakfast plate. “Maybe I’ll take a ride to clear my mind. Thanks for talking to me.”
“Take Patrick if you go,” he says.
“My shadow, you mean? And, by the way, you’re still not off the hook for not telling me about this before.” He brushes me off with a wave of his hand. I pop the strawberry in my mouth and head for the stables.
FIFTY-ONE
Patrick’s the strong silent type. I like that in a guy. We race to the upper meadow, and ride around the perimeter of the palace grounds without sharing more than one or two sentences. On our return, I find Father waiting for me in the palace courtyard.
“Have you been here long?” I ask, kissing his whiskered cheek.
“No, I just arrived. I was concerned about you. Has Ryder been by to see you?”
“Yes. Come in, and I’ll tell you all about it. Can you stay for lunch?”
“Yes. I planned to stay the night, if you’ll put me up. I ran into Charles LeGare. He wants to meet with us later, if possible.”
“Does he have news?”
“I’m not certain. It didn’t seem urgent.”
Father follows me into a small bright parlor with a view of
Mother’s rose garden. I wonder fleetingly who’ll tend to the roses now that she’s gone. My gardening skills are notoriously bad. We order lunch, and settle ourselves into two arm chairs in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows.
“Why did Ryder disappear so abruptly last night?” Father asks, removing his sword and resting it beside his chair.
“Well, he’d just gotten some disturbing news, and I guess he wasn’t sure how to tell me. Father, Erica Hornsby’s pregnant. It’s Ryder’s child.”
“Good lord. No wonder he appeared shaken. Erica didn’t pick the most appropriate venue for sharing the news with Ryder.”
“That was Catherine’s doing. The woman is pure evil. She insisted Erica accompany her to the farewell celebration and tell Ryder immediately.”
Father rests his elbows on the arms of the chair and steeples his fingers beneath his chin. “How do you and Ryder intend to handle this development?”
“I’m still processing what it will mean to us in the future. Ryder told Erica that he’ll support her and the baby, and he wants to be a part of the child’s life—a real father. He also told her he doesn’t love her, and doesn’t want to marry her regardless of whether I decide to go through with our wedding.”
“That must have hurt her very deeply,” Father says sympathetically. “I’m certain she held out a faint hope that the pregnancy would persuade Ryder to choose to be with her instead of you.”
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s true. But I’ve been more worried about the problems this creates for me.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s such a fiasco. Now Erica will have to be a part of our lives forever. And, I can only imagine what kind of rumors and gossip will be flying around about Ryder being unfaithful and me choosing to look the other way.”
He reaches over and takes my hand in his. “Sweetheart, I’m certain this news can’t have been easy for you to hear. It changes the landscape a bit. But the concerns you’ve voiced are trivial matters when compared with the ordeal facing Erica. She must feel desolate and quite alone.”
“Don’t worry about Erica,” I say, piqued that Father seems to have taken her side. “Once Ryder moves out, Catherine has invited Erica to live with her. She won’t be alone.”
“Still, it will not be easy for her,” he says. “The man she loves, the father of her child, will soon be married to the woman he loves, who also happens to be Queen of Domerica, and the envy of every woman in the land.”
I’ve never thought of myself in those terms before, because I’m really just Jaden Beckett of Madison, Connecticut. But what he says rings true. Being queen is no day at the beach, but I’m sure it inspires envy in some people. “I hadn’t ever considered that Erica might be jealous of me,” I say. “I’ve always been so envious of her beauty.”
“She’s a good person, Jade. But, you have so much more than she has, in every respect that matters.”
Lunch arrives and the maids set it out on the coffee table. Father and I help ourselves to mini sandwiches and potato salad.
“It’s just that Erica and her child will be constant reminders of Ryder’s faithlessness. Coming so soon on the heels of Mother’s death, I’m not sure I’m emotionally capable of dealing with all this. And I’m almost certain I’m not ready to be a stepmother.” I munch on a crisp baby gherkin.
“You’ve had many unexpected occurrences in your life recently, Jaden, and you’ve proven yourself capable of handling whatever comes your way. Moreover, I have complete confidence that you will make a loving and nurturing stepmother, if that is the path you choose to take. But you must attempt to separate your feelings on this issue from your grief over your mother’s passing. What does your heart tell you?”
Father pours us glasses of lemonade from a sweating pitcher, while I gaze out at the rose garden, plumbing my true feelings.
After a moment, I turn my eyes to his. “My heart tells me what it’s always told me, that I want to be with Ryder.”
“Then you must find a way to accept Erica and this child into your life.”
I nibble around the edges of my sandwich toying with a thought. “Father, do you know where Erica lives now?” I ask.
He nods. “Her home is near the hospital. I’ve taken Mrs. Hornsby by once or twice. Captain and Mrs. Hornsby must be quite concerned for their daughter. They’re very private people. Neither of them has let on that there is a problem.”
“Maybe they don’t know yet,” I say. “But I was wondering, will you take me to see Erica today?”
He stops mid-bite. “Are you certain, sweetheart? Are you ready to speak with her so soon?”
“My wedding’s in two weeks. This needs to be resolved now if I’m going through with it. Besides, I need to find peace in at least one part of my life.”
“Of course I’ll take you, sweetheart, but we’d better see what General LeGare wants before we go.”
“Sure. Thanks. Father,” I say, hoping I’m doing the right thing.
* * *
We find LeGare in his office in the barracks of the Royal Guard. His tired and morose countenance tugs at my heart. After bowing formally and making certain we’re comfortably seated, he updates us on the progress of the investigation into last week’s attack. So far, it sounds as if the investigators have hit a number of dead ends, but they were able to piece together a connection between two of the slain black knights. Both men had been released from Wall’s Edge prison within the last three months.
“This may be the common thread we’re looking for,” LeGare says. “If someone is recruiting former prisoners, we ought to be able to trace that. It may require significant legwork, but we’re pursuing leads day and night.”
“Thanks, Charles,” Father says. “Please keep us informed. The queen and I are taking a little excursion this afternoon—not far. Can you spare a few men to accompany us? Patrick will come along, of course, but I believe we could do with a few more, just to be safe.”
“Of course,” LeGare says. “They’ll be ready in ten minutes.”
“Excellent.”
We stand. Father and LeGare shake hands, but I can’t resist giving him an empathetic peck on the cheek. I miss her too.
“Father, there’s something I need to do before we leave. I’ll be back in a few minutes,” I say, and sprint for the palace.
Maria hums a little tune as she folds my clothes and tucks them away in my closet. “I need a quick favor,” I tell her.
“Certainly, Your Majesty. What can I do for you?”
“Do you have any of that special hair tonic from Cupola de Vita? A new bottle, I mean?”
“Why yes. We have several bottles. Would you like one?”
“Yes. It’s a gift. Do we have something pretty to put it in?”
She smiles broadly. “I believe I can find something.”
“Good, and I’m kind of in a hurry. I’ll meet you downstairs.”
Unraveling the braid in my hair, I brush it back and anchor it in place with my favorite woven gold headband. I consider changing out of my sweaty riding clothes, but I want to visit with Erica woman to woman, not as the queen. So I settle for a dab of cologne on my neck, and I dash downstairs to meet Father.
Our escort is in place—four soldiers in front, two in back. Father waits in the carriage, and I climb in beside him. “Just one more minute,” I say.
On cue, Maria pokes her head inside and hands me a gorgeous package wrapped in yellow tissue paper and tied with a gauzy lavender ribbon.
“Thanks, Maria. You’re the best.”
Eyeing the gift, Father smiles. “Ready?” he asks. I nod, and he signals to the men. My insides quiver as I realize we’re off to call on Erica Hornsby, my soon to be ex-nemesis, I hope.
Our entourage clatters up Erica’s small residential street. Many of her neighbors step out onto their porches to see what the commotion is all about. I feel badly about drawing so much attention to her, but I’m not at liberty to travel light these days. The procession
pulls to a halt in front of a diminutive cottage. Father wishes me luck saying he’ll wait in the carriage. The soldiers dismount, and form a protective human barrier around me as I pass through Erica’s gate and up the front walk.
She opens the door at my knock, her face registering alarm at the sight of me and several Royal Guardsmen squeezed onto her small porch. “Your Majesty.” She makes a quick curtsey. “What is it? Is something wrong?”