by Robin Roseau
“All right,” I said. “Jaerella, why are you in Charth?”
“I arrived as part of a delegation specifically to meet you.”
“Me.”
“Quite so,” she said. “Perhaps you are aware that your Princess Ahlianna has invited Princess Gionna for a visit.”
“I am, indeed, aware.”
“Of course you are,” she said. “Perhaps you are aware that such decisions require careful consideration.”
“I imagine that is true.”
“The others in our delegation advise the princess. I, however, report directly to Queen Lisdee. We are here to learn what we may, perhaps engage in some amount of diplomacy, and to choose our recommendations.”
“You’re 18, and you are tasked with such an important negotiation? Some of the women I met seem far older than 18.”
“Oh, they are,” she said. “Fuddy-duddies, each and every one. They will be entirely opposed and will spend the entire time trying to convince you to convince your princess to meet our princess here.”
I laughed. “I wish them luck.”
“You are not convinced?”
“I am convinced that my influence on this matter is small. I am also convinced that Princess Gionna will not set foot inside Ressaline when doing so carries a few very specific requirements. Are you able to set aside that requirement?”
“Let us come back to that. You should talk to all of them. You see: I have an entirely different plan, and while they advise the princess, she already knows what they will say.”
“What is your plan?”
“I am going to let you convince me that Gionna should travel to Barrish. Once she is there, she will charm the entire royal family, most especially both princesses, and perhaps we will lure not only one, but two princesses of Flarvor for a visit to Charth, or possibly even Ressaline City.”
I laughed. “And so as a diplomat, I should convince you your plan is destined to succeed?”
“No. You should convince me the princess will be safe, and that King Leander truly wishes friendship with my country.”
I stared. “You’re 18.”
“Going on 40, as my mother says,” she said with a smile. “Now, you are the ambassador, and I am a woman with nearly no authority but significant influence. May I please tug on your arm a time or two?”
I laughed and gave her my arm.
* * * *
We collected glasses of wine. The Ressalines had a variety of interesting customs I had been learning. One was a slight rubbing of glass rims as a sign of respect. Another was more intimate, one I didn’t know but was about to learn. I offered my glass, expecting Jaerella to accept the custom. Instead, she chose the other custom.
She set her lips to my glass. I stared. She paused. And after a moment, she withdrew. “You reject friendship?” She sounded hurt.
“I have no idea what you are talking about, Jaerella.”
She turned bright red. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I didn’t realize. That isn’t a custom in Flarvor.”
“No.”
“Are you offended?”
“Jaerella, you seem to know much about me. Do you believe a builder of roads, accustomed to leading a team of rough men about their duties, is so easily offended?”
She laughed. “Good. Are you sure you are not offended?”
“Absolutely not offended. Will you teach me this custom?”
“That was to be my offer. When you offered your glass… Please, offer it again.” I did so, and she continued. “You expected this custom.” And she lifted her own glass, brushing rim to rim. “I am honored, but I was sending a different signal.”
“Um. I am nearly twice your age.” She froze and cocked her head. I covered my face with my free hand. “This time, you have no idea what I mean.”
“I think I can guess. No, that is not the meaning of this custom. This is an offer of friendship. It works like this. Offer your glass once more, and then you give me a sip. I will guide your hand, although normally, I would not. Please offer your glass.”
I did so, and she set two fingers upon the back of my hand. Then she brought her lips to the cup and guided me into offering a small sip.
She withdrew then said, “If you accept my offer of friendship, when I lift my glass, you do the same. If you wish to tell me you want to think about it, then instead you offer the rub that you were expecting.”
She lifted her glass. I paused and then leaned forward. She gave me a little sip then smiled broadly. “You thought I was requesting a liaison.”
“That was the conclusion I reached.”
“I do not understand your comment about our relative ages.”
“It would be unusual for someone your age to desire such an experience with someone my age,” I said.
“Would you have been offended at the suggestion?”
“No, but we have barely met, and I prefer to know my partners far better than this.”
“I imagine many of our customs are quite unexpected,” she said. “In Ressaline, such arrangements are everyday events. We call them First.”
I laughed.
“I wish you to practice this custom.” She lifted her glass.
“Wait,” I said. “How do I know you are receptive? Is that a poor question?”
“No.” She thought about it. “You know, I don’t know.” She gave a little laugh. “Would someone in Flarvor offer a sign of respect but reject an offer of friendship?”
“Well, perhaps I do not fully understand the original custom. I’ll offer two examples. I may respect a political opponent.”
“Ah. And the other?”
“A superior, or perhaps even the king, or in your case, the queen.”
“Ah. You are right. You do not fully understand the custom. The custom should be initiated by the person with the greater social standing.”
“So the queen could offer it to me.”
“Yes. But if she wanted to offer it as friendship, she may not be subtle.” And then Jaerella offered the glass more closely to my lips, then withdrew it. “Do you see? You could still have responded with respect. Now the reality is that Queen Lisdee frequently offers respect, but I do not recall her offering this token as friendship. I imagine she did in her younger years.”
“I believe I understand now.”
“You have the social standing, but because I advise the queen, the difference is not as extreme as our ages might suggest, and so either of us may offer.” And so she lifted her glass, and I offered to take a sip. She tipped the glass slightly, and then I offered mine. “There you go,” she said.
“I haven’t seen this before.”
“It is actually a somewhat antiquated custom and typically only practiced amongst those who are traditionalists. I should have considered that before offering to you. But you see? We have learned of each other.” She took my arm and turned me, getting us slowly walking about the room. “This is a lovely home.”
“It is,” I said. “Quite lovely. How long will you remain in Charth?”
“Ah, that is a good question. I do not know. It may be that I will be most unimpressed with you and choose a prompt return to advise the queen to keep Gionna close to home.” She laughed. “I find that unlikely.”
“Or it may be that the remaining members of your delegation may believe me when I tell them their plan will fail. They will report to the princess, who will tell her mother she does not wish to go, and you will all be recalled.”
“No,” she said. “Queen Lisdee will wait for my recommendation. If she orders her daughter to Barrish, her daughter will travel to Barrish and be pleased to represent our country. I believe you have a reason for your question.”
“I am currently ill equipped to host events at the embassy.”
“Your staff nears the end of their first,” she said.
“Quite so, and then they will need time to recover.”
“And so you wonder whether there will be opportunity to invite me before I leave.�
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“Yes.”
“Well, you do not need staff to invite me,” she replied. “I am unafraid of less formal invitations. Indeed, I imagine we will have a number of conversations, some at the embassy.”
“True, but you wouldn’t wear a gown, and we wouldn’t host a dance.”
“Perhaps we can impress upon Lady Olivia a shared desire for her to host several more events, perhaps somewhat more intimately sized. This is quite a gathering.”
“It is,” I agreed.
* * * *
We roamed the party. A few times, we stopped to speak to a few people, but for the most part, Jaerella kept me occupied.
She asked about my former life in the Ministry of Transportation. She asked about Barrish and the royal family. I asked about Ressaline City and then asked, “Why does someone of your youth have the queen’s ear?”
“Ah. My mother serves on our council, and I came to the queen’s attention some years ago. She often referred to me as precocious. On this matter, as the princess and I share a birth year, she feels I have perspective someone older may not have.”
I actually thought that was somewhat of a non-answer, but I didn’t press.
And then a number of slaves entered. Dee claimed me, with Bee taking Jaerella’s arm. “Dinner is served,” Dee said. “We will show you to your seats.”
Bee and Jaerella moved ahead of me. Dee kept me back, letting a few other pairs move between me and my former companion. I looked over at Dee questioningly.
“She’s had you too long,” Dee said. “My turn.”
I laughed. “What’s the real reason we’re holding back?”
“Are you anxious to be seated?”
“I am anxious to understand the games tonight.”
“I am playing no game with you,” Dee declared. “I will be serving you tonight. What do you think of Jaerella?”
“I don’t know. She seems quite accustomed to getting her way.”
“You’ve been letting her,” Dee replied. “Just like you do with me.” She gave my arm a little tug in emphasis, and I laughed.
“Have I been neglecting others here?”
“No.” She pulled me further from Jaerella. “Do you like her more than you like me?”
“Dee,” I said reprovingly. “Do you like Claary more than you like me?”
“So you like her as much as I like Claary?”
“No. I’m telling you it’s not fair to ask questions like that unless you want me to ask you similar questions. But this time I’ll answer. She is very attractive and very intelligent, but I love you. I barely know her. Furthermore, I’ve dealt with people like her before.”
“How like her?”
“Accustomed to getting her own way,” I said. “You get your own way, but you never act like you expect it as your due.”
“Olivia is very kind to Bee and me.”
“She is,” I said.
“So you don’t like her.”
“I do like her, but I find it unlikely I would ever be as comfortable with her as I am with you.”
“Well, that’s okay, then. For what it is worth, Olivia says she has an impeccable reputation for integrity. Olivia says she is very good at the political game, for someone her age, but very careful to never lie or cheat.”
“Well,” I said. “That is good, then.”
“Here we are,” she said. “You are here, beside Olivia.” She showed me to a place. There was small placard with my name.
Then she stepped away, leaving me with my hands on the back of my chair. And I looked across the table and smiled at Jaerella. She smiled back.
Olivia reached her seat. “Welcome, everyone. Please be seated.” She remained standing as the rest of us took our seats. She offered a longer welcome to the delegation from Ressaline City and a similar acknowledgement of my continued welcome in Charth. “We will have an easy dinner, and then there is dancing. Thank you for coming.”
She sat, and we all thanked her for her kind hospitality.
* * * *
Dee served me. The other guests at Olivia’s table also received similar attention, although the other tables had fewer slaves per guest. Still, everyone was served, and around me, I could hear countless conversations.
Partway though the meal, Jaerella said, “Ambassador Allium and I engaged in diplomacy earlier. I taught her a custom. I am curious, Allium. If one of us were to travel to Barrish, would we encounter our own surprises.”
“On every street,” I said. I leaned forward and lowered my voice. “We call them… men.”
She laughed. “I have heard them referred to as gruesome creatures, and you allow them to roam your streets. How unsanitary.”
“Charth appears safer for a woman than Barrish,” I said. “If one is not very, very familiar with the city, it is unwise for a woman to travel alone, especially after dark.”
“So in this way, Ressaline is far superior.”
“I must admit: I do not miss the men.”
“I imagine.”
“Furthermore, without knowing the individual in question, if there is a person in a position of authority, it is five times more likely to be a man than a woman.”
“That seems… unexpected.”
“Another reason I prefer Ressaline,” I said. “But Barrish has it’s attractions.”
“Do tell.”
“Winter weather,” I said. “When Lady Olivia explained snow to me, I thought she was teasing me. I do not care for cold weather rain, but a very cold winter day in Barrish would be only slightly cooler than an average autumn day in Charth.”
“And nearly a summer day in Ressaline City,” she said. “I do believe if the princess is to visit Barrish, she would much enjoy a winter visit.”
“Summer can be quite hot,” I said. “Those who can afford it spend the hottest months along the southern coast.”
“I don’t understand. Wouldn’t it be hotter?”
“The ocean moderates the weather, and people swim.”
“Swim? Like a fish?”
“Upon the surface,” I said. “Yes.”
“I have never been swimming,” she said. “Our waters are much, much too cold for that.”
“Along the southern coast, people swim throughout the year, but it is most popular during the hotter months.”
“And are there surprising social customs?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Charth does not have the theaters like we have in Barrish.”
“We did,” Claary said from midway down the table. “But they are not used as frequently as those in Barrish.”
“We do not have the habit of touching glasses,” I said. “Although it is customary for the host to offer a blessing at the start of a meal. In portions of Flarvor, it is not the host but generally someone selected by the host. This is practiced in some Barrish households. Lady Olivia could have asked anyone at this table to offer a blessing, although it would be unusual to make a request of anyone who might be deemed as unable to be gracious, such as a young child or someone who is known for being uncomfortable in social settings.” I smiled. “No one has ever invited me to offer the blessing.”
“You appear quite gracious.”
“I am an engineer,” I replied. “There are stereotypes.” I paused. “Hmm. Clothing is quite different. We wouldn’t dream of wearing leather, and Lady Olivia’s delegation began to appreciate our clothing style during her visit.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Leather is warm,” I said.
“Ah.”
“Women’s shoes tend to be open. I have been wearing boots here, even in the summer, but in Flarvor, boots are worn only during the coldest months.”
“And in Ressaline City, it is the opposite,” she said.
“In Barrish, open relationships are, how do I put this? Non-existent.”
“I don’t understand.”
“If you are in a kissing relationship with someone, then you are not in a kissing relationship with
anyone else.”
“Now you are kidding.”
“No, I’m not. Kissing upon the cheek is uncommon, but I am talking about more romantic kissing. Let’s see. Different regions may have different festivals. Some of them have very unusual customs associated with them, but unless you are from the region, it is not expected for you to know the custom. Some of the customs associated with the coastal villages are quite odd, but there is a region in western Flarvor where I refuse to work.”
“Why?”
“There is a custom of kidnapping unmarried women.” I smiled. “It is perhaps akin to a certain Ressaline custom.”
“We don’t marry,” she said.
“No, in Ressaline, you kidnap Flarvorian women.”
“Allium!” Olivia complained.
“Well, you do,” I said. “Here we have an innocent, carefree woman of Flarvor, hoping for a nice, safe walk in your nice, safe country, when along someone comes and then sells her for a year.”
Jaerella laughed. “Only if she’s twenty-one or older. Is that what they do in Flarvor?”
“Not exactly. If a gang of woman spots a woman alone they know to be unmarried, they may kidnap her. They take her somewhere private and steal all her clothes, then dress her only in a white shift. They may keep her for up to three days, although a shorter period is common, and then they release her, to great fanfare, on the village green.”
“Why?”
“She then must either ask a man to help her go home, or she must bribe the women to return her clothing to her. She is not allowed to leave the green until she has done so.”
“I am not sure I care for this tradition.”
“Which is why I won’t work there,” I said. “The thing is, women will take steps to get caught out.”
“Why?”
“So they have an excuse to ask a man to bring her home.”
“If she wants to ask him, why doesn’t she just ask him?”
“Because that would be forward.” I saw her confusion. “Because women in Flarvor do not tell a man she desires him.”
“Then how is he supposed to know?”
“By letting herself be kidnapped so she is forced to ask for his help.”