skip to main |
skip to sidebar
January 6, 1198
"Aunt Mona." However Dea might have felt about her aunt--she'd been a child of five when Mona had been sent away, so if she didn't have enough memories of her to form an opinion, then Lord knew Henry had no cause to guess it--she paid her a familial kiss on the cheek as opposed to a more stately greeting. For her fellow queen, however, a stately mutual bow was merited. "Your majesty."
"Your majesty," Queen Anna replied in kind as Henry edged around the women to the hearth-facing bench. On Dea's request, Henry had greeted the women himself and led them to the study. Willott had been given the day off; he was more Dea's man than Roderick's now, as he'd been more Roderick's than Ietrin's, but the absurdity of the situation may have been too much for a loyal steward serving his third generation of monarchs to handle. Better to leave the greeting to the shiny new prince consort.
"Please, have a seat, both of you." Dea gestured to the other bench. She waited for her guests to seat themselves, then made her way to her desk from behind Henry, fingers grazing his shoulder as she brushed by. He smiled. He could keep up with political talk about as well as he was expected to, but it wasn't really his realm. All he could bring to this meeting was support.
But, given the women's agreeable manner and Dea's own level-headed views of the issue at hand, that would not be so difficult--or unpleasant--a task. "I think it goes without saying that no matter what anyone thinks, congratulations are in order to the two of you for having fooled the world for so long."
Anna replied with a shy smile. Mona, though, wasn't all that eager to focus on it, her eyes falling to the children on the floor. "Sparron and Jedaline, I take it?"
"My babies," Dea confirmed with a fond grin their way. "Say hello to Auntie Mona and Queen Anna."
Sparron and Jedaline relented a couple of mumbled greetings, then resumed their more interesting game. They were both rather like their mother, Henry thought: focused, independent, full of potential. Every minute he spent with them was all the more reason to give them the golden childhood that Dea's own father had denied her. A cordial first exposure to the workings of royals would do them well.
"Yes, that's... well, that's part of why we decided it was time to end this. The children. Anna's children deserved to know their mother's name, and how brave she was to go along with my scheme. And my children... uh, that is, if you think it appropriate..."
"They will have their place in the line of succession," Dea assured her aunt. "While Grandfather would have been furious about all of this, I don't believe he was the sort to cast aside a blood tie."
Henry had never met King Roderick. But, from what Dea had told him, that would have been rather close to home for the old king. "Forgive me if I'm being presumptuous, but King Roderick did know what it was to be denied his place in line. He may not have been the kindest or cleverest of men, but I doubt that was a fate he would have wished on anyone."
"Yes--and if nothing else, he didn't care for disruptions in order. I won't pretend to agree with more of Grandfather's politics than I do, but to ensure that his grandchildren have their place in succession--however unlikely it is that they'll ever inherit--is a rare posthumous gift I can give him."
"But would he have forgiven me?"
A question only a dead man could answer. And while Henry knew--thought he knew, at least--what he himself would do as a father, he couldn't answer for a dead man he'd never met.
But Dea had known her grandfather.
And by now, Henry knew Dea well enough to trust her judgment.
"Eventually."
NEXT CHAPTER:
August 21, 1198
Lyssa blinked, unsure of what to make of the confession she'd just heard. Renata would have leaned back in her chair and gaped, half impressed by the boldness of it all, half astounded that such an ill-thought-out scheme had survived for so long. CeeCee would have had the whole thing figured out in minutes and would have had several volumes' worth of thought on the conditions that had bred such desperate plots bouncing about her head before Mona even finished the story. Alya would have produced the perfect blend of concern and sympathy, not a trace of pity or judgment about her, and offered to help however she could.
As opposed to her peers, Lyssa had always felt more decorative than functional--and, most of the time, she supposed she was all right with that. But the whatever reason the princess had for sharing the tale with her, she didn't think she could be of much use, except as maybe a confidante.
But, the confidante role was reserved for friends, which Lyssa and Mona were not. Why would they have been? When Mona had set off to be married, the biggest stress in Lyssa's life had been the shame of occasional bed-wetting. Even if such an age difference hadn't existed, their families had always been wary of each other and they had little in common personally besides. Nowadays, Lyssa's husband had occasional dealings with the knights and lords of Carvallon, but nothing that would have brought him to the palace; it was possible that he knew this Sir Zareth, or at least knew of him, but not to the point where he'd have heard much about the man's wife, or would have suggested that their wives could make good company for one another.
She supposed all she could do, at this point, was ask. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Why shouldn't I? You and everyone else in both kingdoms will know soon enough; Anna and I have determined that we can't keep up the lie much longer, not with both sets of children as old as they are now. That, and my brother is dead, and from what I know of Dea... I don't believe she'd take any personal offense?"
The pout in Mona's lip gave a hint of a plea to the question. Maybe that was it. Lyssa was of an age with Dea. They may not have been close, but they'd spent their lives attending the same events and had even lived in the same house while at the university. And it wasn't impossible that they'd be sisters-in-law some day, if Lyssa's brother's courtship with Dea's sister progressed as he hoped it would. As far as the population of Carvallon was concerned, Lyssa was as close to an expert on Queen Dea as they could get.
"No, she wouldn't. She's... not always the warmest person, but she's fair, and not without a concept of familial discord; she'd understand your not wanting to be a bargaining chip. And she's far too reasonable to declare war based on a years-old half-slight."
Mona sighed, the tension about her form visibly easing. It was as close to relaxed as she'd been since her arrival, when Xetrica had screamed to Lyssa from the bottom of the stairs that someone was at the door--a lucky thing that nothing short of thunder could rouse baby Jadin from his naps. "That's... that's a relief."
Lyssa couldn't say much in answer to that. From what she knew of the Carvalli Royal Family, she herself would have been much more worried about Devidra. "Does... Anna's mother-in-law know?"
"Um, yes, apparently. Anna went to confess to her a few weeks back, and Devidra told her before she could even start that she'd known more or less that whole time. I suppose she wanted to figure out which of us had initiated the switch before making any calls she couldn't take back." Mona offered a sheepish grin that would have been quite out of place on the aloof-yet-mischievous older princess she remembered from her early years. "I guess she knows what it's like to have your father insist on your marrying a stranger."
"Hmm." It was true that many women of high rank did. Knowing that, Lyssa herself couldn't have asked to be born into a better family than her own, nor to have chosen a better man as the father of her children. Poor Landus's parental issues could have almost rivaled Dea's--but luckily, he was the sort to take such occurrences as examples on how not to raise his own children. "Well, if Devidra's not a concern, and Dea's not a concern, and Adrius isn't a concern either, then I suppose it just comes down to riding out the scandal."
"I hope you're right about that. If nothing else, I... I guess I can be glad for my parents' sake that they won't be around to endure it. I at least got a chance to come clean to my mother before she died, and she took it better than I'd thought she would, but she would have hated being the subject of scandal--and my father will rest better not knowing."
Lyssa nodded--though, privately, she hoped that at least Mona's brother was well aware and downright livid as he looked on from the fires of hell. She may not have been Mona's friend, but she was at least friend enough to Dea that an eternity of suffering didn't seem to cruel a fate for King Ietrin.
"Both of our families will go to Naroni in the Near Year. We'll come clean to the people of Carvallon before we leave, since they really are our people now, and the ones we've affected--but I think I'd prefer it if Dea had some degree of briefing before we arrive. Do you think you could maybe...?"
Lyssa exhaled. Dea, she knew well enough, would have no more difficulty with the situation than any of her other peers. Less, even. But, between queens and alleged queens, perhaps some degree of insight from a not-unfriendly source couldn't have hurt. "I'll write to her tonight."
NEXT CHAPTER:
September 30, 1192
"How did it go?" Zareth kissed his wife and waited for her answer. There was only so much a man could tell about how a birth had gone by looking at one of the women who'd been present, but he knew the most important thing by Mona's easy, relaxed manner: Anna had survived, and so had her baby.
"Very well. Each of Anna's babies seems to be more cooperative than the last."
"So everyone's happy and healthy."
"Oh, yes. Well, except for Ava." Mona smirked. She had a soft spot for Anna and Adrius's older daughter, Zareth figured in no small part because Ava couldn't have been far off from Mona herself at that age. "She wanted another little sister--not a stupid baby brother."
Brother? "A boy, then?"
"Yes. She'll get over it eventually; Lord knew I was having fun bossing around Farilon and Conant well before Lily ever came along, and she still has Dera. And you, my love--" She tapped him on the nose, one of those reassuring gestures that would have bothered him greatly from anyone else. "--don't have to worry about your brother any more."
"Seems I don't." What a relief. He had no more desire to be earl than his brother had to keep him as his heir, but no amount of talking sense had persuaded Lander of that. Now, with Adrius's second son in the world, that would no longer be an issue. "Welcome to the world, future earl. What's the boy's name?"
"Larsen. Anna's taken to calling him Lari."
"Prince Larsen, Earl of Hargrath." A name practically made for the title. "Funny how such a tiny person can lift so great a weight from my existence."
"I knew you'd be pleased." Mona wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself toward him. Their daughters were in the next room--but it wouldn't be the strangest thing in the world to ask the nanny to take them for a walk at this time of day. "So... now that we're in the clear, shall we try to make a little boy of our own?"
NEXT CHAPTER:
November 17, 1186
She knew she ought to have been on the floor playing with her daughter instead of sitting to the side merely watching, but it was all Mona could do to keep breathing. If the projections based on villagers' words were correct, then her mother would arrive today. Her mother. Her queenly, vapid, status-driven mother.
Her mother who, until today, had believed Mona to be Queen of Carvallon.
Maybe she'd changed. Ietrin had thrown her out when he'd become king, and she'd relocated to Dovia. She had a nice house, but it was in fact a house, and not a castle--and for the time being, it was her own to run. She'd learned to be more practical, to do away with her gaudy statues and hundreds of dresses in favor of basic necessities. And--from what Mona could gleam from Searle's letters, Searle of all people--she even gardened! And enjoyed it!
Surely, she knew now that there were more important things than titles?
That had to have been too much to hope for.
"Mama?" Lara dropped her doll and looked up at her, forest green eyes focused and concerned. "You all right?"
"I'm fine, sweetie." God, lying to her daughter left a bitter taste in her mouth. "Just keep playing."
"But--"
"Ramona?"
Mona's spine snapped on reflex to forced princess posture. "Mother?"
Her mother shut the door behind her, time slowing as it met the frame. Each second stretched tenfold, Mona stood, gracefully as she could muster, half as gracefully as her sister Riona on her worst of days, and approached with leaden feet. She was five again, trailing in mud on the hem of her dress. She was ten, presenting her inadequate samplers, running in late for dress fittings. She was thirteen, shaking in shock as the blood kept spilling from her legs, her mother's voice droning on about how she was a woman now and that she would tolerate no more childish behavior.
She was fourteen and a half, her mother kissing her goodbye the evening of her departure.
And now here she was, twenty-two, having let her mother down. "Mama--"
"Shh."
Arms? Around her? That couldn't have been right.
"It's all right, baby. It's all right."
NEXT CHAPTER:
September 3, 1186
"So, um..." Mona bit her lip as she stepped back, her hand on the shoulder the one remnant of her hug. "My brother is here."
That explained the enthusiastic greeting, and the lingering hand. Well as she knew him otherwise, Mona did tend to overestimate Zareth's capacity for anger. The age gap, he feared--someone of her age might have not have unlearned just yet to see someone of his age as a disapproving authority figure, even if Mona did tend to prefer forgiveness to permission. He hoped that vanish as the years went by. "I know. The steward told me."
"You don't mind?"
"No. I have nothing against your brother." If anything, he couldn't have thanked the man enough for not blowing Mona and Anna's covers at any chance he got. An unexpected visit was no issue--well, not in regards to Searle himself, at least. "But it sounds like he had a reason for showing up?"
Eyes shut, Mona bowed her head. If he'd brought her a puppy, this would be where she announced her allergies. "My mother wants to visit."
Bad allergies indeed. "Shit."
"That's what I said." A sigh--most unlike her. Other people who pulled such stunts would have dreamt up cover stories, but Mona had been so certain of her family's forgetfulness of her that she likely hadn't bothered. And inconvenient as it was, Zareth couldn't blame her for that. Most of his family forgot about him too. "I always kind of thought that if anyone came to see me, it would be Ietrin--and I could make him look like a fool by switching back and telling everyone at court that it's an old Dovian tradition, swapping the princess and her handmaiden to test the visitor's memory. But I don't think I can do that to my mother, not after she's lost so many people these past few years."
"So we'll have to tell her the truth." And hope to God that she's as cooperative as Searle. Not that any marriages could be annulled, what with the presence of Lara, plus Anna's two-going-on-three... but if word got out, it was bound to piss off at least Ietrin, and who knew what diplomatic nightmare that would breed.
"Yes." She wrung her hands together, something he'd never seen her do. While she wore them well, the six or seven years the gesture added were not unnoticeable. "But how?"
That question, he suspected, would take most of the time they had to figure out. "Gently, I guess. Gently, and discreetly."
NEXT CHAPTER:
September 3, 1186
"What's this, then? Queen Lara has no need for doors?" Mona teased her daughter as the doll left the castle by means of an apparent two-story leap.
"No." But Lara offered no further explanation.
"She can fly, then?"
"No."
Mona sighed. Not that she didn't enjoy playing with her daughter, but she ached for the day that Lara would be ready for a little more complexity--a simple story, maybe, or at least consistent physics. When had Telvar and Avirelle outgrown the nonsensical? Had Avirelle, fully?
But she had to curse herself for her hypocrisy; Lara hadn't gotten her sense of whimsy from Zareth, after all. "All right... the prince is jumping out of the castle too."
"No."
"So boys don't get magic."
"No."
'No' no, or 'Yes' no? Damn it, Lara knew more words! "All right, then..."
Knock!
No second wasted, Lara dropped her doll and pointed. "Door!"
"Yes, sweetie. Door." Was two and a half a little old for stating the obvious? She guessed she'd worry about that later. "Zareth? Is that you?"
"No." Huh. That sounded rather like... "It's your brother. Sorry, the steward said you wouldn't mind."
"Of course I don't." Mona ran her hand along her daughter's hair, then scrambled to her feet. What was he doing here? He'd visited before, of course, but never without sufficient notice. "Come in."
He did as she said, sweeping the room with his swift eyes, the usual hint of a smirk in place. He never did change much. "Is that little Lara? Not so little any more, is she?"
Mona grimaced. Everyone always said that about kids. Was she the only parent in the world who wouldn't have minded if they grew up just a little faster? "That's what her papa always says."
It was in Lara's best interests to just let her be for a while, free of Mona's less-than-motherly thoughts, so she took the chance to greet Searle with an embrace before he could further the discussion of growth. "It's good to see you."
"You too. Sorry that I didn't give you any warning. Ren thought I ought to write, but I didn't want you to worry before you had to."
"Why would I have to worry?" Surely her family had endured enough tragedy in recent years, what with her dead father and her two dead brothers and her dead niece? Any God worthy of the name ought to have drawn the line somewhere. "No one else is dead or dying, are they?"
"No, this is a different sort of worry." The embrace parted, but contact resumed when he took her hands--not squeezing, more consistently firm. "Mother wants to pay you a visit."
NEXT CHAPTER:
May 21, 1184
"Excuse him," Adinaye sighed as she lifted her whimpering infant to her shoulder. "He's used to spending every waking moment with his sister; now that she's gone, he's not sure what to do with himself."
You and me both, Wick, thought Mona, though her unease had nothing to do with Wick's sister.
Adinaye had given birth some days back now, and today was her first venture from her castle since having Wick, and Wick's first ever. She had brought along little Emeline too, but when Telvar and Avirelle's nanny had suggested taking the kids to see a performing troupe in the market, not one of the three of them could refuse. Well... only Avirelle technically couldn't, though Anna had insisted she'd enjoy it. Telvar and Emeline wouldn't.
So that left Anna with a nice window of freedom, and Adinaye with the only new baby to worry about. And Mona still had Lara.
Was she a horrible mother if, three months later, she still had no idea what the hell to do with a baby?
"They're getting along, then?" Anna grimaced. Telvar had not taken so easily to the arrival of his sister, though he seemed to have grown used to her now.
"She won't leave him alone! She's the one who started calling him 'Wick', even; seems the name has stuck." Adinaye rolled her eyes, but she smiled as she kissed her baby's ear. She liked 'Wick'. They'd probably still call him that when he was earl. Lara had been born Lara. She'd probably still be Lara when they buried her.
But not all children were called by nicknames? Mona's parents had always called her by her given name, and she'd turned out...
Well, like the sort of person who couldn't trust herself with her own three-month-old.
What was wrong with her? She loved Lara just as much as Anna loved Telvar and Avirelle, just as much as Adinaye loved Emeline and Wick. Why couldn't she show it?
"Now, I guess we'll just have to see what he calls her when he can talk. Wouldn't it be adorable if his first word was 'sister'? Or 'Emmy'?"
"A little early to be thinking of first words, but yes, it would," Anna agreed. "Avirelle's was 'tell'. The nanny said she thought it was because Avirelle was going to tell on her brother for pulling her hair, but Adrius likes to say it was short for 'Telvar'."
"If only because she was telling him off!" Adinaye laughed--and little Wick's cooing seemed to be an effort to mirror her. Lara only stared when Mona laughed, which wasn't often these days. God, what was wrong with her? "Though I suppose we'll be hearing Lara's first words before we hear Wick's, won't we? She does have a three-month head start on him."
She wasn't sure how, but the shift in her friends' gazes was tactile against her flesh. Not wanting to meet their eyes, Mona instead turned to her daughter, who made a little babbling sound. Such a beautiful baby. She looked nothing like Mona herself, and while Mona thought Zareth handsome, she doubted that was popular opinion... but their daughter was lovely nonetheless. She looked more like her Aunt Devidra than the woman's own grandchildren did.
She hoped this awkwardness passed before Lara was old enough to confirm this.
"I suppose." She raised her baby to her shoulder, catching a tiny infant smile as the girl's face passed. It was the first time she'd seen that grin. "But I hope that still leaves plenty of time for her to hear something worth repeating."
NEXT CHAPTER:
June 28, 1183
"And Telvar's not the only one getting bigger, I see!" Mona's hands, ruffling Telvar's hair moments before, now rested on Anna's stomach. Seeing as it was Mona, Anna supposed she didn't mind... but she was getting rather sick of all the near-strangers who saw her stomach and felt it was their God-given right to touch, never mind that she was their queen. The midwife said to expect the baby within the week; Anna wasn't sure if she could wait that long. "God, you must be getting tired."
"Only when I'm awake, except when I'm not." Her friend replied with a good-natured smirk. She never would have guessed it would happen when they first arrived in Carvallon, but now that Mona was married and Anna had a less familiar (if admittedly more competent) maid, she missed having her around. Mona visited when she could, as did Adinaye and many of Anna's other friends, but it wasn't quite the same as having an available companion living under the same roof. "So, how have you been?"
"Well enough, I think. A little sick, though."
Oh, really? "Sick, you say?"
Mona laughed. "Oh, you would assume it's that!" But she left it there, though the seconds-long pause left ample room for protest. "Thanks for forwarding my letters, by the way."
"It's no trouble." In all honesty, she just felt guilty about reading the things before she passed them along, but Mona had insisted and she did have a point; Anna was still supposedly Mona, after all, and therefore had to stay in the loop. "I haven't heard from your mother yet. I hope she doesn't take the news of Searle's new daughter too hard."
"Mmm. She might be hurt, but I doubt she was expecting him to name a daughter after her. Besides, grandparents get passed over for names all the time, even without bad blood there."
And yet, 'all the time' didn't seem to be frequent enough for these noble types. Her feet starting to ache, Anna sat down, her bump somehow more prominent than minutes before. "Speaking of names, you don't expect...?"
"Hmmm? Oh, no." A wink Telvar's way--for whatever reason--Mona shook her head as she joined her on the bench. "I don't think anyone expects little Carvalli princes and princesses to be named for the Dovian royals, even if their mother is from Naroni. If you'd named Telvar 'Roderick' or 'Oswald' or 'Farilon', I don't know how many of his future subjects would take him seriously."
"Carvallon does hate Dovia," Anna agreed. An odd thing to be grateful for, but thank God. "Do you think we could get away with naming this one for one of my parents? Adrius didn't object."
"I think you could. The only people who might know both lines well enough to question probably couldn't handle the sunlight if they left their monastery basements after all these years."
"I hope you're right. But if not, Adrius mentioned my mother's name to Devidra, and she said she liked it--and that there's not enough room in this castle for two Devidras anyway."
"There's not enough room for two Devidras on this continent!" Mona cackled. Anna had to smile. It was a pity that Mona and Devidra hadn't spent much time together, really; Zareth would have to invite his sister some time, without Anna and Adrius. Only, Anna thought she might like to see it. "But speaking of names..."
"Oh, so you don't deny that your sickness is that after all?" A little smug--and a little vengeful--Anna reached over to her friend's still-flat stomach. From what she recalled of being Mona's maid, it was a little firm.
Or at least, from what she could gather before Mona swatted her hand away. "I won't deny or confirm a thing. But if it is that, it would seem a little strange if I called the kid Roderick or Laralita, wouldn't it?"
A knight's wife naming children for her king and queen? It wasn't unheard of, or so Anna thought. Then again, if said king and queen's own daughter didn't do the seem, and the two had a known close acquaintance, perhaps it would raise a few brows. "I guess it might."
"There's Zareth's parents, but he says there's no urgency, so it would be up to me." Mona slouched, the fabric of her gown wrinkling as she slid, though if the pattern said anything, she'd been mindful of her middle. "What do you think of Lara for a girl? Or Derrick for a boy?"
Lara. Derrick. Shortened, perhaps... but really, there was no reason that either of those couldn't be a name of its own.
Or couldn't appear to be a name of its own. "I love them both."
NEXT CHAPTER:
