| |
348 M.E.
“And for your information, I can dress myself, thank you.”
Elwyn spun away dramatically and started for the door of the sitting room. Rohesia forced herself not to sigh aloud, knowing it would only infuriate her stepdaughter more if she should happen to hear. However, she also could not allow Elwyn to leave.
“Elwyn, I must insist,” Rohesia said. At her side, Flora Byrne poured herself another drink, and in her frustration, Rohesia wanted to snap at her to give the booze a rest for five minutes, but she knew it would be unfair to take her anger out on such a good friend. “You will be representing the family. Which means you are representing Myrcia. The elegant blue gown made by a Formacaster seamstress is more appropriate.”
Elwyn stopped at the door and swung back around so violently Rohesia feared she might fall over. “For months and months, I chose my own clothes when I was in the Empire. I didn’t come home so you could tell me how to dress.”
Rohesia said none of the responses that ran through her mind. One was, “No, you returned home because you lacked the emotional and economic means to do otherwise while maintaining your current standard of living.” She also did not say, “In the Empire, Lady Bianca was with you every day to make certain you dressed appropriately.” With what she hoped was a conciliatory smile, she did say, “Your fashion sense is not under debate.” She refrained from adding, “in this circumstance.”
“I don’t look good in blue.”
“Elwyn, you are a striking young woman. You look good in literally every color.”
Elwyn blushed. “I just never have a chance to wear the dresses I bought in the Empire. I thought tomorrow’s feast would be a good opportunity.”
“Your Immani dresses are lovely,” Rohesia conceded. “But the Odelandic ambassador is very traditional and not one for Immani fashion. Also, it is usual for the royal family to all wear Myrcian blue for state functions.”
Deflated, Elwyn shrugged. “Whatever.” And with that, she left the room.
At last, Rohesia let out the sigh she had been restraining. “I would say the chances of her wearing one of her Myrcian dresses are about half. What do you think?”
“I think you need some whiskey,” Flora answered, pressing a mostly full teacup into Rohesia’s hand that, at best, contained a splash of tea. “Girls at that age are willful. A stiff drink is really the only way to deal with them. For you and for them. Have you tried having a drink with her? I think it would do wonders for you both.”
Rohesia smiled gratefully before taking only a small sip to avoid an embarrassing cough when the whiskey burned the back of her throat. Flora was a good friend, but Rohesia did not know if she could really appreciate her difficulties with Elwyn, and that they could not be solved by whiskey.
What did Flora really know about a willful child? To all the world, including Rohesia, Flora’s 18-year-old daughter, Morwen, seemed ideal—intelligent, polite, and never any trouble. She had been one of Rohesia’s ladies-in-waiting for a while now, and Rohesia could not be more impressed with the young lady’s perfect decorum. Whereas Elwyn was a notoriously short-tempered, foul-mouthed young woman who only got away with as much as she did by virtue of being the daughter of the king. And Rohesia had the additional hurdle of being a stepmother, both unwanted and too close in age to wield true maternal authority. Flora had it easy by comparison.
“I am certain Morwen has never given you such a hassle about what she wears,” Rohesia said with a chuckle. “She is a model to my other ladies, in fact, when it comes to following protocol, both formal and tacit.”
“Oh, you’re right. She doesn’t give me trouble about what she wears. The one who gives me fits about that is Andras. Hates green; a real issue for a Byrne. But trust me, Morwen tries my patience daily.”
Seeing as how Flora did not see her daughter daily while Rohesia did, she found that unlikely. But she would not argue with Flora’s right to hyperbole where her own daughter was concerned. And yet, she felt the need to defend her lady-in-waiting. “I find Morwen the most amenable young lady at court. And sadly, Elwyn, the most difficult.”
“If you think Morwen is such a treat, would you like to have a chat with her?” Flora raised an eyebrow, just daring Rohesia to agree.
But as Rohesia failed to see what Flora found so irksome about her daughter, she answered, “I would be more than happy to.” Although, once she agreed, she realized that she had a little something of her own in mind. “As she is my lady, I do bear some responsibility for her. But if I may be so bold as to impose upon you where no such obligation exists, could I ask you to speak with Elwyn? I really would appreciate if she dressed appropriately for the feast.”
“Is that all?” Flora snorted. “One dress for one feast? That’s almost embarrassingly simple.”
“Well, if you would like an additional task, would you mind greeting the guests with me tomorrow? Since we are beginning informally in the Palm Court with drinks, it would be best to stand and greet everyone as they arrive, and that is a bit much for Edgar. You have done so much entertaining of the Odelandic delegation since they arrived, you really would be the perfect person to help.”
“Consider it done.” Flora drained her teacup and splashed a bit more in it. While she was at it, she topped off Rohesia’s still quite full cup. “Now, let me tell you about darling, compliant Morwen.”
***
ROHESIA HAD TO ADMIT that she had not been expecting the information about Morwen that Flora gave her. Nonetheless, she had to speak with her about the issue, because Rohesia would never let Flora down. And so, after breakfast the next day, Rohesia sent her other ladies off on various errands. (With the upcoming feast, it was not difficult, and, in point of fact, necessary.) But she kept Morwen back in her sitting room until they were finally alone.
Morwen was a lovely young woman who, at least in looks, very much took after her mother. She had shining red hair, pale skin, and was decidedly on the short side. Morwen was the same age as Elwyn, and they had been at Atherton together. Knowing how steady and responsible Morwen was, it had always disappointed Rohesia that Morwen and Elwyn had not become friends.
In temperament, however, Rohesia had never noticed the least similarity between Morwen and her mother. Morwen’s personality might best be described as proper. Rohesia loved Flora dearly, as she had been one of her most important friends since she had returned from the Empire to marry Edgar and become queen. But absolutely no one would call Flora Byrne “proper.”
“Did you have something you wished to discuss, your majesty?” Morwen asked, never one to dissemble.
Knowing there was nothing for it, Rohesia said, “Your mother informs me you have a desire to become a nun. Why don’t you have a seat?”
Rohesia gestured at the small, cushioned chair on the other side of the table from where she sat. Some tea from earlier still remained, so she poured them each a fresh cup. The bright sunlight warming their little area, however, felt at odds with Morwen’s frown.
“So,” Morwen began, “I assume that she mentioned this to you with no motive but to share information, ma’am.”
Rohesia was slightly taken aback by the young lady’s answer, as Morwen’s tone made it sound as if she was accusing her mother of being mercenary. But saying as much to Morwen would be a poor way to begin their conversation. “We were chatting, as mothers sometimes do, about our children, and she told me. I have to say, I was a bit surprised. You have never mentioned such a desire to me.”
“I am still completing my plans and attempting to win my parents’ blessing, ma’am. By which, of course, I mean my mother. It seemed premature to broach the subject with your majesty at this time.”
“What planning have you done already?”
Morwen launched into a detailed explanation of the sort of convent she wished to enter, and the pluses and minuses of some specific convents and their current abbesses. She discussed the nature of having a calling, and then quoted at length from the Halig Leoth. After that she expounded on the financial necessities of the church and how best the nobility could support convents and monasteries. (The former were sadly neglected in comparison to the latter, she explained.) In the end, Morwen had laid out her reasoning so thoroughly, Rohesia couldn’t imagine what she still had left to plan.
And she sounded so firm, her argument so logical, Rohesia thought Flora would have a very hard time dissuading her.
“You have given this a great deal of thought,” Rohesia said.
“Ma’am, you may tell my mother that I have no intention of changing my mind. I assume that is why she just happened to bring up my plans while you were chatting. She hopes you will talk me out of this, but you will not. I have no wish to be rude, my lady, but I must do as Earstien compels me.”
Rohesia respected that Morwen was entirely in earnest in her wish to dedicate her life to Earstien. In fact, Rohesia found her devotion rather beautiful. Yet, as a pragmatic woman who understood better than most the importance of good marriages and heirs, she could sympathize with Flora. Her eldest daughter was a lovely woman of intellect with an exceptional dowry awaiting her. The strategic match Flora would have to forego should Morwen give her life to the church would be a blow.
“Your mother only wants what is best for you and your family as a whole,” Rohesia said.
“She only wants what is best for Flora Byrne.” Rohesia opened her month to protest, but quite uncharacteristically, Morwen cut her off. “I am sorry, my lady, Mother is a pleasant enough woman, but you do not know her like I do.”
“I think you do her a great disservice. She has always been a great friend to me. I would go so far as to say I owe her a sincere debt for the help and support she has given me over the years.”
“I do not mean to argue with you, your majesty, but I am absolutely certain she has never helped you where it did not also benefit her. The day your needs diverge, you will see what I mean.”
Rohesia very much did not like to think this was the case. And besides, why would their desires ever differ in any significant way? She had no enthusiasm for arguing the point with Morwen, though.
“Very well. I believe we will have to agree to disagree on this topic. At least for the time being. There is much to prepare for the feast.”
***
SHE CERTAINLY HOPED Flora had managed to have a more straightforward time with Elwyn. But she had no time to contemplate more as planning for the feast and then readying herself took up the rest of her day.
When she arrived later in the Palm Court, all looked spectacular. The blue and silver bird of the Sigors fluttered down next to the dragon wing banners of Odeland. Drinks were poured in abundance and waiting for the guests, who were already trickling in. However, she could see no sign of Flora.
More propitiously, when Rohesia caught sight of Elwyn descending the stairs, she could not be entirely disappointed in Elwyn’s choice of dress. She wore one of her Immani gowns—silver, belted, and modestly cut—but wrapped around her shoulders was a shawl of Myrcian blue silk that shimmered in the candlelight. Not truly what Rohesia had requested, but lovely, in the proper colors, and traditional enough to please their Odelandic guests.
“Good evening,” Rohesia nodded to Elwyn. “By any chance, have you seen Flora? She said she would stand and greet the guests with me. Your father is not feeling up to standing at the moment, and she has gotten to know them quite well since their arrival.”
Elwyn sighed dramatically. “Really? That’s where we’re starting? Fine. Yes, I saw Duchess Flora. She was heading upstairs as I was heading down.”
“Heading up? Did you speak with her? Did she say where she was going?”
“She was too busy groping Cousin Broderick’s ass to say anything, but I’m guessing they were going to his rooms.”
Rohesia forced herself not to react, as much as she felt like cursing Flora. Yes, Rohesia was well aware that Flora and Broderick had been carrying on an occasional liaison for years. Why the night on which the Odelandic ambassador and his entourage were coming to supper needed to be one such occasion, infuriated her, however. They were usually discreet enough, and their spouses did not seem to object, so normally Rohesia would not complain. But she had been counting on Flora, and this news left her feeling especially let down and abandoned.
“Well then,” Rohesia said, and then paused to clear her throat. “I suppose it will be no trouble for me to greet everyone alone. I am always prepared to do my duty.”
“I.... well...,” Elwyn began, but then trailed off.
“Yes, Elwyn?”
“I, if you wanted, could probably keep you company. I don’t know them like Flora, but having me here might be better than being alone.”
Rohesia well knew that Elwyn disliked such duties immensely. Having to talk to people appeared to physically pain her sometimes. Rohesia had no idea what was wrong with the girl, but such an offer as this was not likely to come again anytime soon. Rohesia would be a fool to pass it up merely because she was so stunned.
“Why, yes. That would be quite nice. Thank you, Elwyn.”
“Only if I’m dressed appropriately, of course. I wouldn’t want to embarrass the family.”
Rohesia did not know if she should laugh or roll her eyes at this comment. In the end, she simply chose to smile. “You look quite lovely.”
“It was actually Duchess Flora’s idea,” Elwyn explained. “She brought some whiskey up to my rooms, and we sat down with my wardrobe and talked about it. The silver dress is Myrcian in color even if it’s Immani made, but not really Immani, if you know what I mean. And once I added the blue shawl, it’s really quite Myrcian, I think.”
“Yes. Flora can be rather clever when she elects to be.” Sleeping with Broderick at this particular moment was not one of Flora’s cleverest choices, though. It certainly was not kind to Rohesia, whom she had promised to be with tonight.
But Rohesia supposed she must make allowances for her friend’s fiery and passionate temperament. And a casual greeting in the Palm Court was not the most important moment of the night. Flora would undoubtedly come down for the dancing later. She was a very good dancer, and she had the vital diplomatic skill of making her partners look as if they were good dancers, as well. Flora would dance with all the visiting gentlemen; she would laugh and flirt and charm them and make them feel welcome.
Rohesia had always enjoyed dancing, but as the queen, she had to maintain a sense of decorum at all times. Here, again, she had been counting on Flora’s help. Surely her old friend wouldn’t let her down twice in one evening.
As the first guests began to approach the steps of the throne room to greet Rohesia and Elwyn, Morwen glided up to join them. She was flawlessly attired in green silk; her hair was perfectly arranged with silver and emerald pins. As always, she seemed the ideal young lady. She took her place three steps below them, as protocol dictated, after giving a low curtsy, which Rohesia and Elwyn returned.
“I see my mother is not here, your majesty,” observed Morwen.
“Yes, she is...unaccountably delayed,” said Rohesia.
Morwen pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow. Rohesia would have been willing to bet she knew precisely where her mother had gone, and with whom.
Their conversation from earlier came back to Rohesia now, making her stomach clench. The day your needs diverge, you will see what I mean.
She quickly dismissed the feeling, though. Morwen was just upset that her mother was resisting her plans to go into a convent. Flora was still a friend, and she always would be. Slipping away with Broderick was simply a lapse in judgment—nothing more. It wasn’t really a betrayal.
“Ah, here comes the ambassador,” said Rohesia. “We shall have to muddle through together. Let’s have our brightest smiles now, girls. I’m sure the duchess will join us when she can.”
In the end, Rohesia knew Flora Byrne would never let her down when it mattered.