Valerie was shocked and confused. She was not quite sure why he appeared to be delivering this news as though someone had died. He was going to be king. So what?
“That makes sense,” she said slowly, thinking it through, “Jeanna ruled by marriage, she has no real claim.”
Henry’s face hardened. “No, she does not.” He seemed to collect himself. “Sorry. No. So that leaves me king and you…” he stopped.
“Me a knight in training, who will graduate to the Senior Corps in July?” she finished.
Henry seemed to want to look anywhere but at his daughter. “That leaves you as the Crown Princess Valerie Redford.”
She sat there for a moment, realising that of course that was how it worked. She was her father’s only, let alone eldest, child. She would be queen when he died.
“But I still get to be a knight…” She was not sure if she was telling him or asking his permission.
“I’ve discussed it with Gillam and the Council. You will still finish your training but, beyond that, I don’t know yet. Nor do I make any promises, Val.”
Valerie felt like her world was crumbling. Still, she had six months to convince him that she could be a knight and the Crown Princess.
“What if I refuse?”
“I’m sorry?”
“What if I refuse to be Crown Princess? What if I only be a knight?”
“Do you think anyone here would allow that, if that’s what was decided?”
“Maybe. But what then?”
He sighed again. “They are looking into it. Some cousin from Mirinlan or Veram I believe.” He rubbed his forehead.
“So they’re considering letting me be a knight.”
“I wouldn’t say that. More like trying to work out who might try to kill us for the throne.”
“What?”
“Never mind now, Val. Leave it to me. We have six months before we have to decide what to do. Can we put the thought on hold for the moment, please?”
He looked so tired and grim. She could not remember a time when she had seen him like this. Even after her mother died, he seemed to be a place of warmth and comfort. Now he just seemed too drained. Not that Valerie did not understand. Losing Daniel and then Edmond had been devastating and exhausting. She did not even care if the other trainees thought her too feminine for taking time off after their deaths.
She stood up and kissed the top of his head. “All right. I will keep training and we’ll talk about my going onto the Senior Corps another time.”
He nodded and patted her hand.
“I’ll let you get some rest.”
He nodded again and she left. She felt the need for comfort, so returned to her Princess Room in the hope Jonathan would find her there later.
Chapter Five
The coronation for her father was very different to the one for Edmond. For starters, Henry’s coronation happened eight days after Edmond’s death. Secondly, the coronation ball did not happen for almost three weeks after the actual coronation.
The coronation itself was a dismal affair. The bare minimum of witnesses were in attendance, which amounted to Valerie, Jeanna – who passed the crown on in her late husband’s stead – the Privy Council, Sir Gillam and the most senior knights, three nobles who had been able to make it in time, Jonathan as Valerie’s support, and of course the priest to oversee it all.
It was a quick ceremony. Jeanna stood in Edmond’s stead, silent tears pouring down her face, her black mourning dress crumpled. Henry was stony-faced, also still in mourning black, and looked as though he would rather be anything but king. The priest looked as dour as usual as he performed the ceremony, which really just involved taking the crown from Jeanna, placing it on Henry’s head as he promised to do right by the kingdom and its people, and those gathered agreed they witnessed his oath. There was then some signing of documents to ratify the oath witnessing, and Henry was deemed king.
Yuletide passed with very little fanfare. Henry held a dinner for all the servants and landowners, as the king did every year, and spared no expense for them. The courtiers’ dinner was barely worth mentioning to anyone, but none of the nobles seemed to mind given the circumstances of the previous year.
The coronation ball was held on the eve of the new year as much for the fact that the castle had already planned a ball for that night as anything else. With nobles and dignitaries coming from all countries, it was decided to just combine the two.
Valerie was hoping to avoid the making of a dress for the evening, but her father would not allow it. Jeanna of course was no help and, though Valerie understood, she was also frustrated. So, she decided to enlist the help of Jonathan.
“I really do not know how much help I’ll be,” he complained, dragging his heels.
Today they were meeting with the seamstress in her Princess Room and she had needed to change after training.
“You will be more help than me, and that is the whole point,” Valerie huffed. “She has a pattern to suggest and we just have to choose colours and embellishments.”
“How hard could that be?” Jonathan laughed.
“Shut up.” Valerie grabbed his arm and pulled him after her. It was a rare occasion when she was moving faster than him.
The seamstress had a mock-up of a dress made in plain material. Valerie let the seamstress pin up the mock-up around her body. It had thick straps that dissolved into a v-shaped neckline. The bodice was another of the ridiculous body-hugging type, ending at her hips. The skirt seemed to balloon out to then fall gracefully to the floor. The seamstress spent a few minutes pinning the dress here and there, making sure it fit perfectly.
Valerie watched Jonathan in the mirror. He watched the seamstress work, nodding every now and then, and once or twice shaking his head.
“Because you know so much about dress-making!” Valerie laughed.
“You’d be surprised,” replied the seamstress.
Valerie looked at her reflection then back to Jonathan, who was pointedly looking away. She scowled, but thought perhaps they were jesting with her.
The seamstress stepped back and indicated Valerie twirl around, which she did, then sighed.
“I suppose it will do. Though it is not very exciting,” the seamstress said, turning around and picking a book off the table. “Have a look through here and choose a fabric. Jonathan will be able to select the embellishments.”
“Will he now?” Valerie looked sideways at Jonathan, suspecting him of something but she was not quite sure what yet.
The seamstress smiled politely and passed her the book. Valerie took it and shuffled over to the sofa Jonathan was sitting on, being careful not to tread on the piles of material. She faced away from the sofa and rocked back and forth, gaining momentum to plop herself down. Eventually she managed sitting, and opened the book on her lap. Jonathan leaned over her shoulder to have a better look.
Valerie was blown away by the sheer options available. The book was filled with little scraps of material, each stuck to page. There were some gaps where the seamstresses had obviously run out of a particular material. As Valerie and Jonathan flipped through the book, Valerie could see they were arranged by colours.
“I didn’t even know this many colours existed,” Valerie breathed as she turned page after page.
“You wouldn’t,” Jonathan scoffed, but he sounded just as enthralled as she.
“Personally I would stick to blues and greens, to match your colouring, your highness. But you could get away with creams. I would advise against the reds and oranges.”
“Those may clash with your hair,” Jonathan explained.
“I guessed that,” Valerie replied, elbowing him.
“There.” Jonathan put his finger on a piece of material.
Valerie studied it. It was a rose-gold sort of colour and, from the little Valerie knew, looked to be satin. She touched it, and it shimmered in the light. The seamstress leaned over to see which one he
had picked. A smile played about her lips and she nodded.
“I have a tulle that will go wonderfully with that.”
“I thought that was the sort of colour that would clash with my hair?” Valerie looked between them.
“Oh no, your highness. I think that will be perfect. And I have just an idea as to what embellishments to use. Have you chosen your tiara yet?”
“My what?”
The seamstress looked at Jonathan and he nodded. “I will take her to pick one to suit.”
“And jewellery, mind.”
“I know.” Jonathan nodded again.
Valerie was not entirely sure she was comfortable with the sequence of events.
****
“Stop fidgeting,” Jonathan hissed.
“Stop telling me what to do,” she hissed back.
They were standing outside the doors to the hall, in the exact spot she had stood with her father almost five months previously. Except this time, she was standing next to Jonathan and her father was behind them, standing alone. Custom dictated that every female entering via this door must be chaperoned. Since Valerie could not be chaperoned by her father this time, she’d chosen Jonathan. She had expected to have to fight for her choice but, to her surprise, no one had objected. Custom also dictated that a widowed or unmarried king enter alone, so there could be no confusion as to who the woman on his arm might be to him. Although, Valerie thought that was very unfair.
“You chose me to keep you under control, so that it what I’m going to do.”
“I hardly chose you to–”
“You look lovely,” he interrupted quickly and Valerie found it very hard to be angry with him when he used that tone of voice on her.
“Says the man who put the outfit together,” she huffed.
Silently, she had to agree with him. She could not remember a time when she thought herself more beautiful. Her dress was – after all – perfect. The bodice fit snugly, but she felt covered and practical. The skirt was the perfect height for her to walk without fear of tripping and she could wear flat shoes. It was so light she barely noticed it, and it swirled around her in a fashion that made her feel carefree and five years old again. Instead of the usual million-pin hairstyle, Jonathan had directed a maid to pull part of it up so that it did not fall in her face, and leave the rest down so it spilled around her shoulders. A silver, topaz-encrusted tiara sat atop the mass of auburn curls. A simple, short silver chain held a single topaz at her throat, and a matching bracelet circled her right wrist.
When Jonathan had finally let her look in the mirror, she stood – quite literally – agape for a few moments before he laughed awkwardly and led her downstairs. Every now and then, she would catch him looking at her from the corner of her eye. She smiled to herself, feeling – for once – like a proper lady.
“It doesn’t make it any less true.” He took her hand and placed it on his arm, giving it a squeeze. “You will do wonderfully tonight.”
She blushed to hear him sound so formal and sincere. “Thank you, Jon, for everything.”
“You know I’m always here for you, Val.”
She squeezed his arm as the guard at the door cleared his throat.
“Are you ready, sire?” he asked before opening the door.
“Ready,” her father replied from behind them.
“Let’s go,” Valerie said under her breath, and lead Jonathan through the doors.
“The Crown Princess Valerie, and her escort Jonathan Brennan,” the herald cried in that carrying voice.
There was a veritable gasp from those assembled before a large round of applause started up.
“Told you that you looked lovely,” Jonathan said as they walked down the stairs and moved to the side.
“His Royal Highness, King Henry.”
There was a more sombre round of applause from the crowd as Henry strode down the stairs. Valerie could not remember a time when he looked simultaneously more sad and uncomfortable, nor more elegant. She may have hated the idea of being the crown princess, but her father suited the role of king better than many men she knew. Her father stopped at the bottom of the stairs, and took a deep breath before addressing those assembled.
“Lords and ladies. Thank you all for being here and for welcoming me and my daughter tonight. While we are meeting sooner and under sadder circumstances than I would have liked, let tonight be a time for joy and celebration as we toast not only a new year, but a new peace. A Joyous New Year!” He raised his hand.
The music started, but Valerie still heard some unsettled mutterings among the applause. Valerie too was disconcerted. She did not quite know what her father was talking about when he referred to a new peace. She just hoped her father had not promised more than necessary when bargaining for whatever this new peace was.
“Come, let’s dance.” Jonathan pulled her to the centre of the room.
She laughed as he twirled her around. In her flat shoes, she did not worry about tripping. In Jonathan’s arms, she did not worry about stepping all over his feet. For once, she did not worry that people might see her and think her clumsy. She actually had fun and started to wonder if being the crown princess would be such a bad thing after all.
The first song came to an end and stupid deWynstryngham tapped Jonathan on the shoulder to take his place. Jonathan looked at Valerie, a question in his eyes. She smiled and he nodded before moving aside, squeezing her hand as he went.
“Princess.” deWynstryngham bowed as he took her hand, before drawing her closer.
Valerie had never been this close to him before without them being covered in dirt and sweat. It was a different experience and Valerie felt herself tense up a bit. He smelled like fresh soap and smiled at her in a way that made her stomach feel all light and fluttery. She could not help but smile back.
“You look radiant tonight, princess.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Valerie, please, Dermot. We’ve only trained together for almost four years, and you’ve beaten the pulp out of me numerous times.”
He bowed his head in acquiescence. “Valerie. And do not pretend you haven’t done the same to me.”
Valerie laughed aloud. “Once. Maybe.”
“Still more than anyone else in our troupe.” He smiled.
Stupid deWynstryngham was nothing like Valerie could remember, and yet this version of him felt very familiar and comfortable. As he smiled and led her effortlessly around the room, Valerie felt herself relax and begin to enjoy herself again. deWynstryngham’s arm in the small of her back was steady and strong, but his hand in hers was gentle and light. Like Jonathan, he used his hands daily so they were not perfectly smooth. But then again, hers went through the same daily tasks as his, so they would not be much better.
Before long, another man came to take deWynstryngham’s place. Then another. Valerie was beginning to tire, but this next partner shocked and annoyed her.
“Your highness.” Lord Wilmont bowed low.
“Wilmont.” They began to dance and Valerie had trouble keeping the displeasure out of her voice.
“It is lovely to see you again. You are more beautiful than last I saw you.”
“Thank you. You, unfortunately, look no different.”
Valerie was not only remarking on the fact his nose looked no worse for her punch, but he still stared at her as though she was some prize he must obtain. She had thought it ardent enough last time. This time, if possible, it was worse.
“Ah, yes. Well, my nose healed quite quickly. I should apologise for my actions that night, especially now.” Valerie wanted to ask what that meant, but he continued. “It does you a service to be able to take care of yourself against improper behaviour. Of course, soon you will not need to worry about defending yourself.” He smiled rather much like he had won something, and she felt very much like she had lost something.
As they turned, she stamped on his foot, feigning an accident and silently congrat
ulating herself on being so crafty. He grimaced but said nothing, only smiled more widely.
Valerie knew the current song was coming to an end, but she did not know how best to detach herself. She hoped someone else would want to dance with her. For some reason she did not think he would be fobbed off with an excuse of thirst or tiredness.
The song ended and no one claimed her. She sighed.
“Are you thirsty, your highness? Can I get you a drink?” Wilmont asked.
“Thank you. I can manage,” she replied, surprised.
He bowed deeply. “As you wish.”
She went to find the refreshment table and saw Jeanna sitting over by the wall. Valerie picked up a goblet and went to sit with her friend. Jeanna was wearing a heavy-looking black mourning dress that covered her from chin, to wrist, to ankle. Valerie felt a twinge of sorrow as she sat next to Jeanna. The former queen had lost all her happiness and seemed to exist more as a wraith than a person. She had lost a lot of weight. Valerie had heard she refused to eat and barely slept.
She took Jeanna’s hand and sat for a few moments in silence. After a while, Jeanna slowly squeezed her hand. Valerie look at her and smiled. Jeanna gave her a shadow of her old smile.
“You look wonderful, Val,” she said. “You chose an absolutely stunning dress.”
Valerie laughed softly. “It was all Jonathan and the seamstress. I honestly had very little choice in the matter!”
Jeanna’s smile grew slightly. “It’s good to know you haven’t changed.”
Valerie put her forehead against Jeanna’s. “Never. I am always here for you. No matter what.”
Jeanna sniffed and nodded. “I know. Thank you.”
Valerie heard a cough a turned around.
“Might I have this dance, your highness?” a pleasant-looking young man asked.
“A moment.” Valerie smiled politely. She drained her cup, put it on the floor by her chair, checked to see Jeanna was holding up, and stood up. “All right. Ready.”
He smiled and took her hand. She let him lead without paying much attention, smiling and nodding randomly as he talked. He was soon replaced with another partner. Then another.
Valiant Valerie (Ballad of Valerie of Mor #1) Page 5
