Valiant Valerie
Elizabeth Stevens
ALSO BY ELIZABETH STEVENS
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Valiant Valerie
Elizabeth Stevens
Sleeping Dragon Books
Valiant Valerie
by Elizabeth Stevens
Digital ISBN: 978-0648438168
Print ISBN: 978-0648438175
Cover art by: Izzie Duffield
Copyright 2019 Elizabeth Stevens
Worldwide Electronic & Digital Rights
Worldwide English Language Print Rights
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any form, including digital and electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the prior written consent of the Publisher, except for brief quotes for use in reviews. This book is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
For Eva and Sadie,
For being brave, kind, and clever.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter One
Valerie knew she had a busy day ahead of her, but could not bring herself to get out of bed. She was still sore from the previous day and thought she might get away with a few more minutes in bed before anyone noticed she was late.
There was a knock on her door. So much for that, she thought.
“Valerie! I know you’re in there, because you’re not anywhere else!” a familiar voice floated through the door.
“You can’t have checked everywhere!” she called, hastily pulling her uniform on and pulling the door open.
“Well, you’re most certainly not where you’re supposed to be.”
Jonathan smiled and held out a piece of bread smeared with jam. Wisps of his curly brown hair were poking out from under his hat.
“Just because you’ve nowhere to be and nothing to do, does not give you the right to check up on me every morning,” she huffed, taking the bread from him and starting to walk to the training ground.
“Just because you’re the king’s cousin, does not give you the right to be late,” he replied, following her. His long legs made it easy for him to keep up with her no matter how fast she walked.
“He’s not the king yet. Besides, I’m sure it does. They give me concessions.” She sighed inwardly at the taste of strawberry jam, her favourite.
“They most certainly do not give you concessions because you’re the crown prince’s cousin,” he laughed, elbowing her playfully then opening the heavy outer castle door.
“You had better not be suggesting that it’s because I’m a girl.” Valerie was as tough as any of the boys and worked just as hard.
She nodded in greeting to the guards stationed outside the door.
“You are the only girl in the Junior Corp, let alone the whole King’s Army. And you know there hasn’t been great success with girls in the Army in the past.”
“That may be. But I’m not just some girl. I’m Lady Valerie Redford, daughter of the Duke of Merrimont,” she finished, feeling rather lame and took a bite of her bread.
“You’re not really Lady Valerie though, are you?”
“Princess Valerie,” she mumbled.
“Pardon?”
She sighed more loudly, “Princess Valerie. Though that’s only a formality.”
“Formality or no,” Jonathan’s tone was no longer mocking, and he looked at her tenderly, “you have still earned your place in the Junior Corp. Make no mistake of my jesting. Next year, you will have no trouble being promoted to Knight of the Senior Corp with the rest of the trainees of your age.”
They had reached the training ground now, so Valerie shoved the last bit of bread in her mouth. She walked over to the training sword rack and went to pick one up, but realised she had remnants of breakfast all over her hands.
“I’ll bet stupid Dermot deWynstryngham will have no trouble being promoted as soon as he turns eighteen!” Valerie grumbled, wiping crumbs and jam on her pants.
Jonathan’s ‘don’t worry about that git’ face turned into a sigh and he put his hand over his eyes. “Val, you cannot just wipe your grubby mitts all over your uniform.”
“You’re just jealous you don’t have a uniform.” Valerie waved her arm at him, indicating his floppy hat, shirt and baggy pants. He looked more ready to work in the field than play in front of the king.
“I do have a uniform. I’m just not wearing it at the moment, as you know full well.” He patted his clothes self-consciously.
Valerie laughed and touched his arm gently. “You know I wouldn’t tease you if you didn’t make it so easy.”
He smiled at her then.
She heard a booming laugh and dropped her hand from Jonathan’s arm immediately. She started smoothing her hair, then dropped her hand from that motion as well. She looked down then back up at Jonathan. His smile was gone now, replaced with the mask of indifference he usually wore.
As Dermot deWynstryngham, the owner of the booming laugh, came over to the sword rack, Jonathan nodded curtly to Valerie and left. Valerie did a final check of crumbs and jam around her mouth before turning to face Dermot and his company.
“Good morning, Lady Valerie.” Dermot and company bowed slightly. She cringed at the intonation Dermot always used when addressing her as ‘Lady’.
“Lord Dermot.” She bowed her head slightly to the other boys behind him.
There were ten of them in their training level; those peers or outstanding pages that had turned fourteen in the same year. Valerie had worked hard to compete with all nine of the boys, and she had not been bottom of the class since her first year. She knew though, that no matter what she did, she would never beat Dermot deWynstryngham in battle. He was the Training School’s finest student in years. Since before the war, it was said.
“Lady Valerie, nice of you to join us.” Their commander walked over to them.
“Good morning Sir Gillam.” Valerie bowed. “Apologies for my tardiness.”
He sighed and she could see the hint of a smile playing at his lips. “Never mind that. Get to work, my lady.”
She heard the boys sniggering each time he addressed her and sighed as she took her stance at her practice dummy. So what if she was technically a princess? Her father’s line would never rule, and were the owners of a sizeable duchy
, so why not be a Lady? The people around her, peers or no, already looked down on her for choosing to be a knight, not the future Queen’s lady-in-waiting as was ‘proper’. Valerie sneered at that word. Proper. How that word plagued her very existence. It was not as if girls had never joined the Corps before. True, none of them had been of the peerage. But why should the rules be different? Valerie’s father had introduced her to swordplay early in life and it was not only what she enjoyed, she was good at it. So why, God dammit, did people have to judge her?
“Valerie!” she heard Sir Gillam shout and looked around.
The boys were staring at her in shock. All signs of mirth and mockery gone from their stunned, open mouths. Even Dermot deWynstryngham’s face was more awestruck than the usual condescension. She looked at her training dummy.
The poor thing had lost both arms, its head, and, through the straw stuffing sticking out, Valerie could see she had bent the pole to which the dummy was attached.
“Maybe Lady Valerie needs to go back to a wooden sword in training,” Matthew said.
“It certainly seems your strength is improving, my lady,” Dermot said.
Sir Gillam waved his arms at the boys and they continued on with their exercises.
“Is everything all right, my lady?” he asked, gingerly taking the sword from her.
“Yes. Thank you, sir.”
Sir Gillam had always had a fond spot for Valerie. After her mother died, Valerie spent a lot of time around her father’s friends for he would not leave her with a nurse or nanny. Valerie often wondered if he had made the right choices in bringing her up. But in all honesty, she loved her life and her father even more.
“Are you sure, lass?” Gillam looked at her searchingly. She was not that tall, but Gillam was not much taller than she was, so their eyes almost aligned.
“I’m just frustrated, Gillam. Everyone either treats me like a little girl or like some great joke.” She threw a half-hearted punch towards the dummy and a movement to her left caught her eye.
Jonathan was standing, leaning on the railings of the training ground, watching her steadily.
“Ugh. Doesn’t he have anything better to do!” she grumbled.
Sir Gillam followed her gaze and that smile played upon his lips again.
“It seems not, my lady.” He put a hand on her shoulder and began steering her to another training dummy. “Do not be so fast to criticise and judge a good friend.”
“A good annoyance maybe.” She took the sword from him. “He’s not my carer.”
“But he does care,” Gillam said and walked away.
Valerie watched him go, wondering what in the world he meant by the way he said that. She shook her head and set up her stance once more.
****
Not long after the lunch break, and well before the end of the day, someone came looking for Valerie and expected her to leave training.
Valerie was sparring with Anthony, who seemed a bit wary of her after her assault on the dummy that morning. She was about to yell at him for hesitating so often and ‘just bloody hit her’ when Philip called to Sir Gillam that someone was looking for her. She whirled around, expecting it to be Jonathan again. This time, however, it was Finola, the future Queen Jeanna’s handmaiden.
Valerie slumped over to the railing.
“Yes, Finola?”
“My Lady asks that you attend her immediately, my lady.” Finola curtsied.
Valerie straightened, slightly alarmed. “Did she say why?”
Valerie and Jeanna were not the best of friends or anything, but they got along well. Still, Jeanna hardly sent for Valerie in the middle of a work day. Jeanna, if perhaps the only one, commended Valerie on her dreams of becoming a knight.
“She is meeting with the seamstress, my Lady, and wants you to come to be measured for your dress for the coronation ball.”
“Wait, what?”
“Your dress for the coronation ball. The queen wanted the seamstress to be able to start work on it immediately, so it will be ready in time.”
“The coronation date has been set? When is it?”
“Next Tuesday, my Lady.”
“So soon?” Valerie looked at Finola, but she gave up no more information. “Do you know why?”
“It’s not really my place, my lady.”
“Oh God. Enough with the ‘my lady’, please. Tell me what you know, please.”
“Lady Valerie. Everything all right?” Gillam called.
She turned to him. “Yes, though I’m being summoned by our future queen. Is it all right if I go?”
“I’m not holding up a summons from our future queen. Off you go then, but do not be late tomorrow,” Gillam called, shaking his fist at her half-heartedly.
Valerie saw the boys muttering among themselves, but ignored it. She hopped over the railing, snagging her pant leg on a nail, which caused her dismount to be somewhat less elegant than she had planned. She hung her sword on the rack and began walking to the castle, Finola hurrying beside her.
“Tell me what you can, Finola.”
“There is talk that the other kingdoms are restless after the war. The advisors want Prince Edmond crowned as soon as possible to prevent another war.”
Valerie rubbed her arm. “We’re not even out of mourning for Uncle Richard,” she said, more to herself than anything. “Still, we shall follow the advisors. I suppose they aren’t worried by who can get here in time?” They had reached the castle door, and there were two people waiting for her.
“That is the general feel of it, yes.” Jeanna, radiant as always, smiled at her.
“You didn’t have to come out. I was coming to you.” Valerie smiled in return.
“I wanted to make sure you gave poor Finola no trouble.”
She looked to the other person. “Father.” She hugged him quickly.
“Daughter.” He laughed and stepped aside for her to fall in next to the queen.
“Where is Daniel?” Valerie asked Jeanna.
“He is with Nurse. He kept trying to climb among the fabrics, and you know how the seamstress gets when her fabrics are tampered with.” She and Valerie laughed.
Valerie could well remember the times that much younger versions of themselves had played at their parents’ feet while they were measured for gowns. Jeanna had been a part of the court since she was five and Valerie had come to think of her as much as family as Edmond was.
“I don’t know why you didn’t just pick for me. The seamstress would have my measurements from…” She did not like to say Uncle Richard’s funeral. “I can’t have changed much in three weeks.”
The mood of the party was more sombre now.
“No, I suppose not. But you would not like anything I pick, you know that.” Jeanna gave her a small smile.
They walked in silence the rest of the way to the queen’s drawing room. At the door, Jeanna and Finola went in, but Valerie’s father touched her elbow and indicated she step aside for a moment.
“What is it?” Valerie asked.
“Edmond’s rule is not secured, so we must act fast and have the preparations sorted as seamlessly as possible.” He rubbed his forehead, a tell-tale sign he expected Valerie to exasperate him. To be fair, she knew she likely would, albeit unintentionally. “I need you to just pick a gown and make no fuss. Please, Val. I know you hate dresses, but Edmond needs you to act like a lady.”
Valerie wanted to argue, she wanted to tell her father that Edmond did not care what she did and that he loved her no matter what. However, she saw the line of her father’s shoulders, the tensing at his eyes and mouth, and she knew all was not well despite outward appearances.
She nodded curtly.
“Very well. I will let a gown be made, and I will dance and act the princess. For Edmond and for you. But you can be sure I will not enjoy it!” She touched his arm so he would know she was only partly serious.
He laughed. “I do not doub
t that. Now in you go. Take cues from Jeanna, she knows how to be a lady.” He smiled and kissed her head before walking away.
Valerie watched him go and wondered when he would tell her what was going on. He was part of the king’s inner circle, so he would know more about what Finola had said than most anyone in the castle. The war had not touched them in the capital, but the outer fringes of the Kingdom of Mor had not been so lucky, and many Morts had died at the hands of the enemy. Valerie may not have seen the carnage of war, and for that she was thankful, but she had heard detailed accounts and that terrified her enough. She laughed to herself, and I want to be a knight!
Still, as she walked into Jeanna’s drawing room, her mind was filled with thoughts of battle and the pain of thousands, and she was chilled to the bone.
Chapter Two
Valerie stood in front of the mirror, the smiling face of Jeanna at her right shoulder, and inspected herself. The gown fit perfectly, as she had expected it would given the royal seamstress’ talents. The gown was a startling shade of green that matched her eyes and on it sparkled ruby and topaz, which set her dark auburn hair ablaze.
“Don’t you think it clings a little much to my torso?” Valerie asked, twisting in an effort to see the back of her gown, but all she could see were more folds of cloth.
Jeanna’s tinkling laugh tickled her neck. “It no more clings than mine, nor anyone else’s and you look wonderful. It is a shame you spend your days in men’s clothes and do not show your lovely figure more often.”
Valerie rolled her eyes. She loved Jeanna like a sister, but she was such a…girl. She thought beauty and flattery were far more important than brains and ability. Valerie hated it, but, at times like this, she also envied Jeanna’s innate ability to be what everyone else considered a proper lady. Valerie forced a smile.
“And take all the attention away from you, my queen. Never.”
Valiant Valerie (Ballad of Valerie of Mor #1) Page 1
