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It was the last day of the faire and the players were celebrating another successful year, with the queen at the center of attention, of course. In fact, the entire kingdom had turned out for the festival, which lasted from dawn to dusk.
But, when it was all said and done, once the people of the kingdom were gone, the costumes came off. Laces were unlaced, gloves were packed away, and armor disassembled and placed into safekeeping. Then the players were just normal people again. No more queen, no more nobles, and no more peasants. Normal people, normal lives.
For Annabelle Scott, it was the end of a wonderful fall. Her long, straight black-dyed hair was no longer pulled back from her face and confined by a caul, and her tattoos no longer covered by a heavy, Elizabethan style dress. Even on the hottest days, though, the dress had been the best part. It transported her to a completely different time and place. She held herself differently when wearing it, spoke differently, and behaved in a way she wouldn’t in everyday life.
When she put on the dress in the morning on faire days, the crisp rustle of the fabric – of taffeta and satin – was music to her ears. Her dress wasn’t allowed to be as elaborate as the queen’s. The lady-in-waiting wasn’t just there to keep the queen company. She was there to make her look good. Better than any woman in the entire kingdom. But even the cocoa brown gown with its golden bodice, skirt, and stitching was a thousand times fancier than what Annabelle was used to wearing. She loved how she had to hold her skirts just clear of the ground as she walked and the way they puffed up around her when she was seated.
On the flip side, there were times all that stiff fabric felt stifling. Antiperspirant didn’t always keep her from sweating on the hotter days. She felt bad for the person who handled the costumes and couldn’t imagine the amount of work that probably went into dealing with pit stains. Ick.
As much as it disappointed her to know she wasn’t coming back for another year, now she could stride around like the modern woman she was. Stretching her short legs and not having several pounds of costuming weighing her down felt good. Knowing she had to wait an entire year to come back to the faire felt awful.
Annabelle hadn’t made friends just yet. The ren faire players were a tight-knit group, some of whom were full-timers who traveled with faires around the country. Others were locals who worked at the one faire, year after year. They’d built close bonds over that time, and even though Annabelle wasn’t quite “one of them,” they’d all been friendly to her and encouraged her to return next year. That was all well and good, but there was someone in particular she would miss – the redhead whose green eyes sparkled in the sun. The woman who had the privilege of playing the star of the show.
Everyone adored the queen, of course. Even out of costume, they referred to her as “Elizabeth.” The woman who played her certainly had the charisma for the role. She stood straight, tall, and proud, even in her heavy costume. Her voice rang out across the grounds when it was her turn to perform. She spoke with the authority of a leader.
Although it was only Annabelle’s first year as a player, it wasn’t her first time at the faire. She’d gone in years past and the same woman played the queen then. Annabelle knew her fascination with the queen had only grown with each visit and she couldn’t wait to return next September. To see her beautiful queen again.
The players dispersed toward the parking lot like sad teenagers leaving summer camp. A whole chorus of “See you next year” and “Can I get your number?” followed. No one asked Annabelle for her number, which she supposed shouldn’t surprise her. She remained a relative stranger to these people, not quite fully bonded over their shared love of stepping back in time and taking on historical personas. Out of costume, she also had a tendency not to hang out with the group. That wasn’t her fault, though.
She’d also had to trade her usual weekend hours at work for later hours just to be here on Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays. It left her with very little time to get from the faire to her job, and then she spent the precious remaining hours of the weekend sleeping, just so she could get back to the faire first thing in the morning. Her manager was strict about adherence to the schedule and it was chancy to swap hours in the first place. But Annabelle knew the faire was worth it.
She wanted a number too, but she would never muster the courage to ask their queen. The woman she’d admired all fall and by whose side she’d stood as protocol dictated probably wasn’t interested in a girl like her. Being a lady-in-waiting was all about serving the queen directly, mostly as a companion. However, the hierarchy in place meant Annabelle was at the bottom, as she was the new girl. She could only move up and, therefore, closer to the queen by showing up again in successive years.
That was no problem. Annabelle loved the history of it all. Not enough to go to school to study it, but enough to dress up and become a part of a whole new world. Old world? She shrugged. Semantics didn’t matter. All that mattered was her crush remained far out of reach. At least she’d spent the past three months doing what she loved – dressing up and bringing joy to others.
With one last, long look at the faire players and the grounds that were slowly being transformed back into an empty field, she turned to cross the gravel area that served as their parking lot. Her mind went through a list of goodbyes. Goodbye to the wandering minstrels and vendors with their wares. Goodbye to the wide-eyed children and performing enchanter. And goodbye to the queen.
As if on cue, the queen appeared in front of her.
Well, not really the queen, Annabelle reminded herself with a toss of her long, dark hair as she stopped and looked at the woman. But, rather, the woman who played the queen. As with this season and all the seasons before that, the woman took her breath away. She was as stunning out of costume as in it. Perhaps even prettier without all the stage make-up.
There was no faking that kind of red hair, not with her perfect, creamy skin with its light smattering of freckles. Her heart-shaped face was a bit too delicate and feminine to represent Queen Elizabeth, but when her hair was pulled back in the severe style the costume demanded, there was no doubt her looks suited the role as well as her demeanor.
When the redhead’s lips parted, Annabelle couldn’t help but stare at them. So full, so pouty, so ready to be kissed...
“It's my favorite lady-in-waiting,” the queen said. Her voice was warm, not commanding as usual. It gave Annabelle shivers she had to fight to repress. “So what does the rest of the year hold for you?”
Annabelle knew if she opened her mouth now, the words would tumble out in a tangle of incoherent babbling. She swallowed the words back, took a deep breath, and managed to say, “Just work. What about you?”
The redhead examined her nails for a moment, a gesture Annabelle equated with the posh types who could afford luxuries like manicures. Her interest in the woman plummeted. Even though she acted as a lady-in-waiting to the queen, it felt like the playing field was leveled when they were in costume. The designation of queen’s companion was a great honor and Annabelle could pretend she was a noblewoman of high birth.
Now, though, the differences between them were becoming apparent in how the redhead held herself. That confident posture and air of superiority were definitely not an act. Her pale, green eyes flicked from scrutinizing her fingernails back to Annabelle. Those refined features of hers really were lovely, but the perfectly tweezed, arched eyebrows gave her the appearance of a woman who was used to having things her way.
“Same – all work and no play.” The queen let out a long sigh. “I’ve got a big deal to close next week and I guess it’s a good thing the faire is over. Now’s the time to get my beauty sleep, because it’s back to sixty hour weeks.”
A sarcastic response jumped to Annabelle’s lips, but she swallowed it. Sarcasm was her defense mechanism in an unjust world. As someone whose struggles against the upper class had already set her apart from certain people, she perceived more than one strike against her. So she gave what she hoped was a nonchalant shrug and said, “I guess that’s life.”
“Right?” The queen let out a delicate snort. Annabelle hadn't known anyone could make a snort sound ladylike, but somehow the woman standing in front of her did it. “Back to the real world. Lucky us. This was the best weekend escape ever, though. I always look forward to fall and coming back here for a few months. It beats working constantly. So, listen...”
The woman edged closer to her, a flirtatious move Annabelle couldn't ignore. The object of her affections was actually leaning in and giving her a small, secretive smile. Oh yes, privilege wafted off of her like an expensive perfume. Annabelle recognized it. She’d grown up in it, after all, and then promptly disappointed her family by rejecting it.
“I'd love to see you again now that we're allowed to fraternize openly. What's your name?”
The question slammed into her gut like a mallet, knocking the wind out of her. This beautiful woman, the one with the privilege of playing the queen, wanted to know her name. Of course, Annabelle could give the “stage name” she’d used all autumn, but she realized this woman wanted her real name.
Wow. The queen was, in Annabelle’s mind, the unattainable dream woman, yet here she was, asking for her name...
“I don’t think –”
“Don't think what - that we ought to hang out? Look, I don't want to sound nosy, but I saw that break up with your girlfriend the first week of the faire. Ever since then, I've been waiting for the chance to talk to you. At least let me say that I'm interested before you dismiss the idea. Now, will you tell me your name?”
She was so insistent, so magnetic the way she leaned toward Annabelle with her green eyes twinkling, that Annabelle couldn’t help but give in. “Annabelle,” she answered, tempted to curtsy as well. Then she remembered they were no longer in costume and this woman wasn’t her queen. She was just an ordinary, albeit well-dressed, person. Ordinary and so beautiful, and she wanted to get to know Annabelle.
“There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Annabelle supposed not, but she wasn’t sure how much more she wanted to give. Having a woman like this interested in her was like something out of a dream. Or a nightmare. She wasn’t sure which, but she wondered if she needed to be careful what she wished for.
She realized the silence was getting awkward, so she asked, “What’s your name?” There. It was only fair that she get an answer to the same question.
The woman laughed and pressed her index finger to her lips. “Considering how hard-to-get you played, I’m not sure I should tell you.”
Really? This was what she was going to get? Annabelle reached up and tucked her hair behind her ears, revealing the extra piercings she’d had to take out every weekend while she was on duty at the faire. The woman’s eyes lit up as her gaze moved from one ear to the other. It wasn’t like there was anything special about the silver studs and skulls there, but maybe she had a thing for goth chicks.
“I’ll tell you if you agree to go out with me next Friday night.” Those green eyes shifted back to Annabelle’s face, unblinking.
“Ha, no way.” Her real-world mannerisms were returning in force, now, no longer constrained by the rules of being a player at the faire. Annabelle folded her arms and dropped her weight into one hip. “First of all, I work Friday nights. Second, I’m not sure how I feel about going out with someone who watched me break up with my girlfriend a couple of months ago.”
At the time, Annabelle thought she and Maria were somewhere they couldn’t be seen. She seemed to remember them being off behind the marketplace. Apparently, it hadn’t been as private a break-up as she thought. How embarrassing to know this beautiful, refined woman had witnessed the two of them arguing, Annabelle crying angry tears as Maria told her she no longer had any feelings for her and had moved out during the time Annabelle spent training for her role at the faire.
The memory no longer made her heart clench with pain, but that didn’t mean she wanted to be reminded of it.
“So you are a lesbian. I’m glad I wasn’t mistaken.” The woman’s smile widened and she extended her hand. “I’m Elizabeth.”
“Of course you are.” Annabelle stared at the hand and, yes, it was clean and lily white, with no visible cuticles and shell-pink nails.
“No, that really is my name. Crazy coincidence, I know. But I’m Elizabeth Pritchard. You can Google me if you think I’m pulling your leg.”
Annabelle realized most of the cars were already gone. Behind her was a steady hum of activity, however, as the laborers took down the kingdom. Shouted orders, the crunch of trucks with trailers along the gravel as they backed up to the fairgrounds, and the whoosh of tents coming down was all that remained. The sun had just about set and Annabelle had to get to her real job to start her shift.
Still, she couldn’t bring herself to walk away just yet. She wasn’t sure if it was weird to still be lingering behind with the actress who played the queen or if she was glad there weren’t people watching them. “Why didn’t you talk to me sooner?” she asked.
“Those crazy rules, you know. We have to abide by them to maintain the illusion.” Elizabeth seemed to give up, because she finally lowered her hand. “You’re not the friendliest person, are you?” The way she nibbled at her lower lip told Annabelle she’d been expecting her to be more receptive. Annabelle almost felt bad and she relented.
“Sorry. I’m just not used to...” She offered her hand with another, “Sorry.”
“You have something against handshakes?” Elizabeth asked, taking her hand. The redhead’s grip was pleasantly warm and firm, her palm smooth. Annabelle wanted to trace her finger over it and point out the various parts of it, like her love line, her life line, her Mount of Venus...
Instead, though, she just shrugged, tilted her head to one side, and said, “Kind of. I mean, not really. It was just that we spent all fall working together and not once did you break character. It’s not like I would have told on you if you did.”
“No, I suppose not.” Elizabeth let go of her hand, along with a sigh that blew out from between her parted lips. “It’s just that I’ve been here for five years now, and I’ve seen some crazy stuff happen when people go too far breaking character. I love working here, so I don’t take chances, you know?”
A rule-follower and, more than likely, one of the people who never questioned those rules. Probably because she was one of the kinds of women who got to make her own rules. Just like the woman she got to dress up and play at the faire.
As cute as Elizabeth was, Annabelle wasn’t sure she had room for someone like that in her life. Fortunately, she seemed to have dropped the dating subject, so Annabelle took a step back, toward her car.
“Well, it was a fantastic faire and I’m excited about next year. I’ll see you then.”
“Hey. Not so fast.” Elizabeth followed her, step for step, toward the waiting car. “If Friday night doesn’t work, what about Saturday night?”
Annabelle closed her eyes, hoping Elizabeth would simply be gone when she opened them again. She hated to disappoint her by telling her she worked on Friday nights. And Saturday nights. And Sunday nights. Even if they did hit it off, which seemed unlikely, Annabelle’s schedule was odd. No one in their right mind would want to plan dates around it.
“Back to playing hard to get, I see. Let me at least give you my number, in case you change your mind.” Elizabeth reached into her purse and pulled out a black pen. Before Annabelle could say she didn’t have any paper, Elizabeth had taken her hand and pressed the felt tip of the pen to it. With short, precise strokes that tickled her palm, Elizabeth left nine digits on her skin.
Annabelle closed her hand and took a step back, not sure how to respond.
“Seriously,” Elizabeth said, capping the pen and pointing it at her as she backed away. “Let’s go out together sometime. Call me, Annabelle, because I’m not going to wait a whole year to see you again.”