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July 5, 354 M.E.
It has been weeks since I have found the time to do more than jot a brief note in here about recent events. Duty has kept me busier than ever, and yet, if I do not take the time to order my thoughts, I fear I will only become more muddled. So, I will now make the time, although I still fear I will be all too brief. Such is the curse of living in such days.
Let me begin by recording some good news. Even though I wish the Empire would come more definitively to our aid, I appreciate that there are limits to what Tullius can do. But he and Vita have not forgotten us in our need, and they are sending two dear, old friends—Presley Kemp and Grigory Sobol. It might seem a bit overly optimistic to pin our hopes on two men (and a mysterious third helper they are bringing), but a woman could search the world without ever finding two such other men. I know they will be a great help. When Caedmon told me Presley and Grigory were coming (news he received magyskly from Faustinus), I felt truly happy for the first time in weeks.
Unfortunately, my happiness was not destined to last. Elwyn was in her finest form that evening. It was the Solstice, and naturally she insisted on taking an extra glass of wine at the feast. She danced a few times with Sir Alfred Estnor, of which I approve wholeheartedly, but then she insisted on dancing with Miss Searle in front of the entire company. They laughed it all off as a lark, but then she and Miss Searle slipped away together, so I was obliged to bid our guests good night by myself.
But Elwyn has not even been the worst of it (if she were, I would rejoice). Broderick’s troops now nearly encircle the city, and it is no longer a case of the front line being pushed back. We will soon be besieged.
When we first arrived in this city, we could communicate with our friends and comrades in Newshire, Keelshire, Wislicshire, Trahernshire, and Pinshire. Now, only the cleverest scouts, such as Robert Tynsdale, can get out of the city to the west. He is working on ways to bring supplies in, since we cannot say when we might ever be able to break the siege. We hope for more men from Pinshire or perhaps even Newshire or Drohen, but sadly not before winter comes.
I attempt to remind Elwyn of this danger every time I see her tipsy, which happens more often than ever. I swear, the girl and her set seem bent on drinking the city dry.
Rohesia dropped her pen and leaned back in her chair. It was too hard and utterly straight backed, but she hadn’t changed it out for a more comfortable one, since the chair, the desk, and the room weren’t really hers. This was Duke Robert’s study, and he had graciously loaned it to her “for the duration,” however long that might be. Granted, he had been out with the army much of the time and had no need of a large study, but she wondered now if he regretted it. In his place, she might regret a number of things. Housing the royal family in exile was no easy task, and Rohesia thanked Earstien regularly that the Dryhten family had so generously taken them in.
Her overall gratitude, however, did not help her stiff back. She stood and stretched, closing her journal for now. Perhaps tea and a snack would help her feel a bit better and improve her mood. She had written far more about her disappointments with Elwyn than she had intended. The girl drove her to distraction! No, not a girl. Elwyn was a woman—about to turn 24 next month, in fact. By that age, Rohesia was a wife, a queen, and a mother. There really was no excuse.
Having given her ladies the afternoon at their leisure, Rohesia had to poke her head out the door, hoping to see a servant she could ask for refreshment. Rather than a servant, however, she saw Elwyn strolling by. As usual, her stepdaughter wore a riding dress, whether or not she intended to go riding. Rohesia decided this would be a good moment to have an important conversation, again, with Elwyn about her behavior. Things really couldn’t continue on as they were.
“Elwyn. Are you busy? If not, I would like to speak with you while you are here.” Rohesia gestured for Elwyn to enter. After an exasperated sigh, she did.
Elwyn flopped herself in the window seat on the far side of the room, while Rohesia returned to her hard chair behind the sprawling desk. Elwyn stared out the window instead of looking at Rohesia, but that was typical.
“I am afraid,” said Rohesia, “that I must once again point out that your behavior since the arrival of the army has been problematic.”
Elwyn slammed her head back against the window frame. “For the love of all that is holy, not this again.”
“Yes. This again. And it will continue to be ‘this again’ for as many times as is required for you to hear it. Tomorrow is your Aunt Veronica’s birthday supper. I will endeavor to forget your recent indiscretions if you could please behave properly tomorrow.”
Elwyn visibly bristled, and Rohesia had to guess whether she objected most to the remonstrance or to hearing Veronica Swithin referred to as her aunt.
But it did not surprise Rohesia. In spite of being nearly the same age as Elwyn, Veronica could not have been more different. Quiet, deferential, cerebral, Veronica was a woman of unsuspected depth,
a fact Rohesia was only now learning herself. The time in Leornian, worried about her husband in the months he had been off at war, had been hard on Veronica. Rohesia was determined to have a pleasant celebration for her, and she had no intention of allowing Elwyn to spoil it if it could be helped.
“I like how you’ve now gone from telling me what I’ve already done wrong to what you expect me to do wrong next.” Elwyn uncurled from her seat. “Even if I behave like the perfect little princess you seem to want me to be, I’m sure you’ll still manage to find something wrong.”
“Elwyn, that is unfair. I’m asking for nothing more than sobriety and not leaving early in order to have a liaison.”
“I’m sorry. Was it unladylike to have that second glass of whiskey?”
“I suspect you had more than two. And when you drink, you and Miss Searle are far less discreet than you think you are.”
She snorted. “As if half the people in Leornian aren’t perpetually drunk and horny. What else in the Void is there to do during this siege?”
“Half of Leornian is not the king’s sister,” Rohesia shot back, ignoring the essential accuracy of Elwyn’s statement. Looming death often brought on despair, amorousness, or both. But a princess needed to be above that.
“Well,” said Elwyn, “I’m pretty sure Alice is sober and hasn’t fucked anyone today, so she can be the king’s good sister.”
In all her life, Elwyn was the only person Rohesia had ever wanted to slap. Of course, she had never done so, but Elwyn could infuriate a saint.
“That is beyond vulgar. I do not understand why you must be so impossible.”
Elwyn stormed past her to the door, and Rohesia did not try to stop her.
“Good afternoon, your royal—”
“I’m glad you find it good. Someone ought to.”
Rohesia buried her face in her hands. A moment later, the door to her study clicked closed, followed by the soft clearing of a throat from the chair on the other side of the desk. Rohesia dropped her hands and met Caedmon Aldred’s eyes.
“Her royal highness seems a trifle out of sorts,” he said.
Rohesia let out a short, mirthless laugh. “I asked her to behave like an adult tomorrow at the Countess of Hyrne’s birthday supper, and apparently that was akin to requesting that she stop breathing.”
“I can remember sitting in this very room with Edmund Dryhten before he was the King of Myrcia, because, of course, this was before there was a Myrcia.” Caedmon let a small smile play over his lips in a way that let Rohesia know this was a pleasant memory. “He was one of the most remarkable and charismatic leaders I have ever met, and I have seen a fair few. But he could also be a difficult, pigheaded man, especially if someone, such as his cousin and future wife, Maud, happened to mention that he ought to be sober and properly dressed for important events.”
“It’s different for a man.”
“To most of the world, yes. To those of us who have lived a bit longer and experienced more, I would say less so.” He paused to give her a kindly smile. “What I mean is this. Everyone grows to understand the world in their own time. Pressuring anyone to get there faster often slows them down.”
Rohesia slumped, defeated. “So I do nothing? Say nothing, make no suggestions, allow her to behave in a way that alienates Edwin’s last few supporters?”
“I do not believe the princess has alienated anyone. It is my understanding, in fact, that she is quite popular with some of the younger members of the court.”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”
“Elwyn and Edwin are the future of Myrcia. Sometimes they must be allowed to make their own choices, even when we do not agree with them. How else will they ever learn?”
That pitying smile of his returned, and Rohesia tried to smile back, but the effort was beyond her. “I merely want my son to take his rightful place and live in peace with all the world. Except for Broderick.”
Caedmon chuckled. “That is what I want as well, your majesty. Let us pray to Earstien we get it.”
***
“THIS IS SUCH A LOVELY supper, Rohesia. I can’t thank you enough.”
Veronica’s cheeks were a cheery red, possibly from her accepting a third glass of wine, something Rohesia had never seen her sister-in-law do. But it was her birthday, and she very much deserved a small treat. Unlike Elwyn, whom Rohesia believed was on at least her fourth glass. Rohesia had promised herself that she would take Caedmon’s advice at least for tonight and refrain from chastising Elwyn, whatever she did, up to and including burning the Bocburg down. Besides, Veronica deserved to be the center of attention for once.
“I kept meaning to ask all through the previous courses if Lawrence was able to find you a present,” Rohesia asked.
Veronica’s blush deepened as she nodded. “We’re lucky to have found ourselves in Leornian where, whatever other deprivations we suffer, there are still booksellers. He gave me a beautiful edition of Adler’s poetry. It’s a parallel text with the original Odelandic and a Myrcian translation.”
Rohesia smiled, glad that Veronica appeared pleased with her gift. Although he could be occasionally difficult, Lawrence did have excellent taste in literature. “That is marvelous. Why don’t you bring it to my study tomorrow afternoon? I would love to see it. And I can begin showing you my accounting method, as we discussed.”
“Are you certain?” Veronica glanced over her shoulder to see if Lawrence was still engaged in conversation with Duke Robert. After a quick look around at the guests to assure herself no one could hear them, Veronica whispered, “I very much enjoy that sort of thing, but I still worry your brother will not care for me doing it.”
Yes, Lawrence had his positive attributes, such as his taste in poetry, but he had never learned management and accounts. She knew that Presley Kemp had tried to teach him years and years ago when Lawrence was Duke Brandon’s squire, but it never took. While serving as Edgar’s treasurer for the entire kingdom, Presley had shown Rohesia the basics, and she had found him an excellent teacher. If Lawrence hadn’t learned anything from Presley, he never would. Luckily, Rohesia had discovered Veronica had a talent for math, and Rohesia could pass along what Presley had taught her. In fact, Presley would be with them soon and could help teach Veronica. Lawrence need never know.
“Lawrence will be grateful for the help,” Rohesia said, certain of no such thing. “Trust me.”
As Veronica clasped Rohesia’s hand in thanks, Elwyn shot out of her chair, twirling around, laughing loudly at only Earstien knew what, and drawing a great deal of attention. Rohesia almost went over to remonstrate with her, but remembering what Caedmon had said, she pointedly looked away.
“Ah! Look!” Rohesia smiled, squeezing Veronica’s hand back. “The cake is being served.”
“I love cake above all things,” Veronica giggled. “Truly, thank you. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate
everything.”
“There’s no reason to tell me. I am more than happy to do so.”