“Off that way is the shortest route to the north wing, your Majesty,” Dyer said, pointing. Elspeth hadn’t even realized there was an opening there, what with the paneling and the poor lighting. “We will arrange for you to meet your staff in the morning. Then you are scheduled to meet with your Council afterward.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” Elspeth lied. They were moving quickly, if she was supposed to have her first Council meeting almost immediately. She would have preferred having a day or so to familiarize herself with the palace and the people she had responsibility for, but probably there was business that wouldn’t wait. A lot of business, the way her luck was running.
Another few minutes’ walk brought them to a corridor that, thankfully, Elspeth recognized: the broad, well-lit hall leading to the east wing door. She managed not to run to where two armed and armored men wearing North colors of dark blue and silver stood at attention in front of it. Dyer took a few rapid steps to put himself in front of her and said, a little breathlessly, “Her Majesty, Queen Elspeth North.”
The soldiers bowed, though not as deeply as the people in the antechamber had. Elspeth suspected they didn’t want to put themselves in a position where they couldn’t defend her. She had soldiers willing to defend her with their lives. Soldiers, and attachés, and staff…she needed to get away from here before she started laughing and mortally insulted them.
She said, “Thank you,” feeling stupid and ignorant for not knowing how to acknowledge their obeisance. One of the men stepped back and opened the door for her with another bow.
“Would you like me to accompany you?” Dyer said.
“I…don’t know. Has my aunt been told of my arrival?”
Dyer nodded. “We sent a messenger ahead.”
“Then I think I’d prefer to meet her in private.” She managed not to add if you don’t mind.
Dyer bowed. “As you wish. I will see you in the morning, your Majesty.” He turned and walked away before Elspeth had time to respond. That was just as well, because she still wasn’t sure what kind of response was appropriate.
She smiled at the soldiers, who regarded her dispassionately. She was used to the soldiers attached to the embassy, who were always properly turned out but never failed to have a smile or a wave for the ambassador’s children. But these were the Queen’s guards, and maybe the knowledge that they could be executed if they let anything happen to her made them disinclined to be friendly. She stepped inside the door and let it close behind her.
The hall was as she remembered it from her last visit, though what she couldn’t remember was how long ago that was…four years, or five? Five, because she had been to her first Irantzen Festival the winter before that summer visit. The walls were still painted a rich cream above the half-paneling in white oak stained burgundy, the strip of ruddy brown carpet still felt slick underfoot, the lights hanging from the ceiling were still dull. They were Devices, not lanterns, and gave off a steady glow, but they gave Elspeth the impression that no one could be bothered to clean the glass.
She walked slowly down the hall, keeping close to the center from some remembered warning from years ago that the creamy walls smudged easily. She’d always felt that was an invitation for her to rub dirty fingers all over them. The smell of roast beef and cooked vegetables came to her nose, rousing her appetite. Lovely. She’d interrupted her aunt’s dinner. One more person the Queen had inconvenienced today.
The hallway ended at the great east wing sitting room. A fire roared in the enormous hearth of smooth river stones, around which were drawn up heavy wooden chairs drowning in fat cushions of sage green silk and satin. That was new. Aunt Veronica must have redecorated, though Elspeth hadn’t realized her aunt liked Ruskalder fashions.
She took another step toward the fire. She could feel its heat from where she stood, and for the first time in days, she felt warm. Then someone stood up from a chair near the fire, someone who moved as if she had to think about each limb unfolding, and turned to face Elspeth. She wore an unadorned black muslin gown with a narrow skirt and long sleeves, the black ribbon of its waistband just beneath her breasts, and her dark blonde hair was pulled back from her face so tightly it made her features look stiff. If Elspeth was warm, the woman must have been roasting.
Elspeth took a few more steps. “Aunt Veronica,” she said.
Veronica came around the chair and walked toward Elspeth. “Elspeth,” she said.
Her voice sounded so different. Elspeth was used to her aunt’s diffidence, her quiet calmness, but now she sounded close to breaking. Elspeth had forgotten there was one person Francis’s death had devastated more than Elspeth. With tears in her eyes, she stretched out her arms to Veronica and said, “I’m so sorry, Aunt Veronica. This must be a nightmare.”
Veronica nodded and hugged her niece. “It was so sudden,” she said in that strange, tense voice. “One day, he had a mild cough, and two days later he was delirious and feverish, and then…” She hugged Elspeth more tightly. “None of this is anything we expected. I thought…but it doesn’t matter now, does it?”
“I suppose not.” Elspeth released her, and they looked at each other in silence. Veronica’s eyes were dark-circled, and her lips trembled as if she hadn’t gotten enough sleep for far too long.
“Dinner’s ready, if you would like to eat with me,” Veronica finally said. “It’s not much—I’m afraid my appetite is gone. But Cook insists on feeding me…”
“I’d like that. Thank you.” Elspeth hadn’t thought about how Veronica must feel, all alone in the east wing, and her heart ached for her.
They went, not to the formal dining room, but to Veronica’s suite, where the small table in the sitting room had been set. Two places, so someone had warned the cook. When Elspeth and Veronica had taken their seats, the door opened, and a servant in North colors entered bearing a covered tray that turned out to contain the roast and vegetables Elspeth had smelled. The woman served them both in silence, and then Elspeth picked up her knife and fork. “It smells delicious.”
“I can’t tell. Everything tastes like ash. But I don’t want to make this a depressing meal. How is your family?”
“They’re all well.” Elspeth took a bite. “They’ll come for a visit sometime, when things aren’t quite so busy. Winter is full of diplomatic events, in Veribold.”
“That would be nice.” Veronica pushed her food around her plate. Elspeth wished she could order her aunt to eat; the woman was already too thin. She took another bite. The food really was excellent.
“I had them make your old room ready,” Veronica said. “If you want to choose different rooms, you’re welcome to, but I thought you might like the comfort of something familiar for tonight at least.”
“Thank you, I do. And my rooms are fine.” She didn’t much care what room she slept in, had never grown attached to the suite she usually had on the few occasions she’d visited, and was more worried about not disrupting her aunt’s life too much. Maybe the Queen could make those kind of demands, but Elspeth North wasn’t so carelessly cruel.
“Am I supposed to meet the servants?” she went on. “I don’t…” She dropped her knife and fork on the plate, making the gravy splatter on the tablecloth. “Aunt Veronica, what am I supposed to do? I don’t know anything!”
Veronica took Elspeth’s hand. It felt like having a thin, light-boned bird perch on her fingers. “You’ll figure it out,” she said. “You’re the…the Queen now. They’ll make allowances.”
“Yes, but I should at least try to meet people halfway, don’t you think? I need your help. I had Miss Jones White filling me with etiquette and protocol all the way from Haizea to Aurilien, but it’s not enough.”
Veronica’s thin cheeks were tinged pink. She took up her utensils and took a few small bites. “I’ll do what I can,” she said, “but I don’t know anything about ruling a country. You’ll have to depend on your Council for that.”
“I don’t know anything about them, except
that there are seven councilors plus three of the ruling lords. The ruling lords serve a term of five years and take turns at it. The councilors serve terms of six years, but they can be reinstated when their term is up. I only know that because Lord Harrington has been head of Foreign Affairs for…well, since I can remember. If I had some paper, I could maybe remember what all the Council positions are. But that’s it. It’s not enough to make a difference!”
“It’s their job to ease your burdens, or at least, that’s what Landon always said.” Veronica was eating more steadily now, though she didn’t drink any of her wine. Elspeth wasn’t used to alcohol, but she sipped from her glass, reasoning it was something a Queen ought to be familiar with. She hoped it was an acquired taste, because it was nothing she would have drunk voluntarily, especially if there was a good rich fruit juice available.
“I just don’t want to seem stupid,” she said. “If I’m going to be ignorant, I’d at least like to know what questions to ask.”
“Then you should probably ask them to talk,” Veronica said. “Have them explain their departments. Landon used to say, if they confused him, he would just nod wisely and let them keep talking until it made sense.” She smiled, surprising Elspeth. “For Landon, they might have talked a long time.”
Elspeth snorted laughter, then covered her mouth to hold it back. “Sorry.”
“It’s all right. I admit I’m tired of grieving. I wish I was at the stage where I could feel justified in living again.” Veronica pushed her plate away; it was mostly empty. “This is a terrible state to be in, this…emptiness, where I forget Francis is gone and then it all comes back to hit me in the stomach. But time passes, and the pain is lessened. I’m almost glad you weren’t friends. You won’t suffer as I do.”
Uncomfortable, Elspeth said, “Oh, but I think we were friends.”
“Not close ones. How could you be, when you never saw each other? It’s all right. Don’t feel bad that you’re not grieving. It doesn’t bother me.”
“I was afraid you’d feel I wasn’t properly respectful,” Elspeth said.
“I’m not so foolish as to demand other people suffer to validate my pain.” Veronica leaned back and sighed. “Francis is gone. He was buried four days ago. Life goes on.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here for the funeral.” She’d never imagined having this frank a conversation with her aunt, but then the last time she’d been in Aurilien, she’d only barely been an adult, and they hadn’t had anything in common.
“It’s all right,” Veronica repeated. “I think it’s better you begin your reign without that cloud hanging over you.” She looked away, and added, “If you want me to leave—”
“No, I—wait, you mean, leave the palace?” Veronica gave the tiniest nod. “Sweet heaven, of course not! This is your home! And I need your support. I hope nobody suggested you should go, because I would have to…I don’t know. Do something horrible to them.”
Veronica smiled, more widely this time. “Like what?”
“I’m the Queen,” Elspeth said. “I’d think of something.”
4
The rustle of curtains being drawn back startled Elspeth out of a dream that dissolved upon waking. She sat up, shielding her eyes against the bright sunlight. It was as if yesterday’s storm had never happened.
A woman wearing plain gray trousers and a white collarless shirt stood at the window. She wore a strange garment over her shirt, something between an old-fashioned doublet and a belted vest, in North colors. She bowed to Elspeth, making the vest bunch up over her stomach. “Good morning, your Majesty,” she said. Her accent was strange, not that of the upper-class Aurilien nobles and not the drawl of northwestern Tremontane, which were the only two accents Elspeth had heard often. “Happen you’d like breakfast now?”
“Ah…all right, I suppose so,” Elspeth said. She wished she knew what time it was. Early, certainly, and maybe it didn’t matter the exact time, since Dyer had made it sound like her schedule was dictated by other people, but she might feel less disoriented. “What time is it?”
“Seven o’clock, your Majesty. It’s when his Majesty always rose. Happen you’d prefer…” The woman bowed again. “We didn’t know what your Majesty wanted. I apologize if we chose wrong.”
“No, it’s fine. Could I have a couple of poached eggs on toast, and maybe a glass of orange juice?”
The woman looked taken aback. “Don’t know if we have orange juice, this time of year, but I’ll ask. Your Majesty doesn’t want ham, or bacon?”
Greasy meat first thing in the morning had never appealed to Elspeth. “No, thank you. Just the eggs.”
When the woman had bowed herself out, Elspeth climbed out of bed and crossed the soft carpet to the dressing room. Her clothes had mysteriously appeared there the previous evening, neatly hung on rails or folded into dresser drawers. The few things she owned made the room seem even more cavernous. No doubt the Queen needed more of a wardrobe than Elspeth North the ambassador’s daughter did. Another thing she didn’t know how to get. She removed her dressing gown from the peg on the back of the door and put it on. She still felt far too cold, particularly in her bare feet.
She went back to the fireplace and regarded the…thing…in the hearth. It was a brass box three feet on a side, with a lid that could be propped open. Inside, glowing coils and spiked wheels and masses and masses of copper wire filled the box to bursting. Elspeth regarded the mysterious contents for a few minutes. This Device hadn’t been there the last time Elspeth had used this room. Someone had bricked over the fireplace and put the Device where the andirons had been. She guessed the Device was to heat the room somehow, but she had no idea how to turn it on.
She turned as the bedroom door opened and the woman entered, carrying a carved wooden tray with four short legs at its corners. She stopped halfway through the door when she saw Elspeth, clearly startled. “Did you…his Majesty always took breakfast in bed,” she said, her voice faint.
That struck Elspeth as decadent and awkward, but she felt she’d already shocked the woman enough for one day. “I was cold,” she said, hopping back into the tall bed. Somewhere, there was a little stepstool to assist in climbing into the bed, but Elspeth hadn’t found it last night and had to resort to springing up with her hands shoving off the mattresses.
“You didn’t—” The woman shut her mouth and carefully rested her tray on the bed next to Elspeth. “Do you know how to work the Device, your Majesty?”
“I don’t. Could you show me?” An irritated thought about why this woman had clearly assumed Elspeth wanted to sleep in an ice cave flashed through Elspeth’s mind. She watched curiously as the woman flipped up a hatch at the back of the brass box that Elspeth hadn’t even seen and pressed a wooden button a little bigger than the tip of her thumb. Something went click, and the box emitted a low hum Elspeth found pleasant.
“It will warm up soon, your Majesty, and I’m sorry we didn’t think to turn it on last night.” The woman bowed and turned to leave.
“Wait,” Elspeth said. “What’s your name?”
“Gloria, your Majesty.”
“And you’re a…household servant?”
Gloria smiled proudly. “I have the care of your Majesty’s rooms. Mistress Alderly chose me particularly.”
“You must be very good to earn Merete’s trust. What other servants are there in the east wing, Gloria?”
Gloria’s brow furrowed. “There are two maids at your service day and night—I mean, I’m the day, and Shirley is the night. Then two for the Dowager Consort. The servants who clean the public rooms—I mean the ones not yours and the Dowager Consort’s. The cook and her assistants. Milady the Dowager Consort has two maids to help her dress and manage her wardrobe. And there’s the soldiers, but I’m not sure that’s what you meant.”
“No, that’s good. Thank you. I’m afraid there’s a lot I don’t know.”
“Oh, you’ll learn it all soon enough!” Gloria blushed. “I beg pardon fo
r my informality, your Majesty. Certain sure I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“It’s all right, Gloria. Don’t feel you have to be perfectly correct all the time.” Elspeth sighed and picked up a piece of toast. The poached egg had a light sauce drizzled over it that smelled slightly of lemon and tasted delicious. Gloria bowed again and shut the door behind her. How many servants was that? Seven, plus however many servants it took to keep the east wing clean and the cook’s assistants? And that was just for her household. She probably needed a personal maid, once that expanded wardrobe appeared.
There was no juice, but there was a pot of chocolate and a pitcher of fresh cream, and Elspeth poured a liberal helping of each into a cup, stirred, and drank in pleasure. Expecting oranges in winter in Tremontane was a little extreme, come to think on it. She squelched the thought that she might be able to demand it. She wasn’t going to be an entitled snob just because she was the Queen.
Fed, and warm now that the Device was running, she pulled the bell rope hanging near the head of the bed and waited for Gloria to appear. “I don’t suppose you know when I’m supposed to be in the north wing?” she asked.
Gloria hefted the tray and shook her head. “I’m sorry, your Majesty, I don’t. But I think Mister Dyer is waiting on you in the sitting room. Should I ask him?”
“No, I’ll ask him myself.”
She waited for Gloria to leave, then returned to the dressing room and quickly changed into comfortable trousers and the warmest shirt she could find. She examined herself in the full-length mirror as she brushed her hair. The dryness of the air made it feel bushy, but there wasn’t anything she could do about that. Nor could she do anything about her clothes. Well, she’d been born in Veribold, had lived her whole life there, and it wasn’t as if her parents had imported Tremontanan clothing just so their children wouldn’t look like Veriboldan natives. She slid her ankle boots over her feet and stamped a couple of times, more to comfort herself than to make the boots fit properly. Maybe a new wardrobe was more important than she’d thought.
Stranger to the Crown Page 4
