The Dragon's Choice

by Wesley Allison

  “Very well, thank you,” added Gladys.

  “That’s very nice. What are you ladies about today?”

  “Just visiting,” said Gladys.

  “How lovely.”

  “If you sure there’s nothing you need to tell me,” said his mother, with an arched brow, “then we’ll be off.”

  As soon as the two women were out the door, he turned to his Aunt Iolanthe and thrust the telegram toward her. She took it from his hand, pulling it from the envelope and reading aloud.

  To: Augustus Marek Virgil Dechantagne, Earl of Cordwell, March Lord of Birmisia, Viscount Dechantagne, and Baron of Halvhazl.

  My Dear Lord Dechantagne,

  Please forgive my engaging the telegraph for this purpose. Distance and time make it necessary.

  I fervently wish to ask for your sister Terra’s hand in marriage. She has captivated my heart, and I believe that her feelings mirror my own. I am sure that our two families make an excellent match, and can quickly dispose of any minor details. With your kind consent, we wish to announce our engagement as soon as practicable.

  With warm affection,

  Clitus Tybalt Iskander Magnus, Prince of Greater Brechalon and Freedonia.

  “Not your ordinary telegram,” mused Iolanthe.

  “But what does it mean?” he asked.

  She gave him a withering look.

  “Well, I know what it means, of course, but can he really want to marry Terra?”

  “It would seem she possesses charms of which we were unaware.” Iolanthe’s mouth spread into an uncharacteristic grin. “Marrying the son of the King!”

  “I know. That’s an excellent match, of course. What does he mean about minor details.”

  “He means that she’s half Zaeri. She will have to be baptized into the Church of Kafira. You might as well.”

  “That doesn’t matter to me,” he said. “Will it matter to her, though? You can never tell which side of a line she might fall down on.”

  “If she has enough wherewithal to snag a Prince,” said Iolanthe, “then I’ve no doubt she’ll know what she has to do. Why didn’t you share this with your mother?”

  “We can’t let word out before they announce their engagement. Mother will want to share it with the entire colony.”

  “Good thinking,” said Iolanthe, “though I don’t think this will win you any points with her.”

  * * * * *

  Esther was waiting in the foyer when Iolana and Terra returned from church. Their brilliant white dresses made them look almost like twins, as there was a great family resemblance between them, save only a few distinct features. Terra’s hair, which had sometimes appeared dark brown in Birmisia, had gone black in Brechalon, though it was as thick and wavy as her cousin’s golden locks. Iolana’s unusual aquamarine eyes were a startling contrast to Terra’s chocolate brown. And of course, the older young lady was several inches taller.

  “Do you feel any different now that you’re a Kafirite, Terra?” asked the lizzie.

  “I do feel somewhat wetter,” the girl replied. “I must have had a great deal of sin for that much water to have been necessary to wash it away.”

  “That’s all symbolism,” said Iolana. “If they had to really wash all your sin away, they’d have had to pump water in from the river.”

  “Besides,” said Esther, “I gather baptism is more about washing away original sin. I confess I’ve never been able to suss out just what the nature of that might be.”

  “No one knows,” said Iolana. “But they naturally blame it on a woman.”

  Finley took their hats and umbrellas and the three females made their way into the dining room where the servants were in the process of setting out tea. Iolana took her seat at the head of the table and Esther and Terra sat on the same side, the lizzie closest to the blonde.

  “Maybe Terra should start sitting at the head of the table,” said Esther, watching Iolana out of the corner of one eye, while watching a fish fillet scooped onto her plate with the other.

  “I know you’re baiting me,” said Iolana, pouring her tea. “I can’t imagine your motive. In any case, you know I’m not vain. I don’t care who sits where.”

  “Phillip,” Terra called to one of the footmen. “Would you see if Cook has some porridge?”

  “We’re having fish, chips, and salad,” said Iolana, though there were in fact, quite a few other items on the table as well. “I approved the menu myself.”

  “I’m feeling cold after being splashed. I want something to warm my insides.”

  Phillip left the room, passing Mr. Barrymore who was on his way in to announce, “His Royal Highness Prince Clitus.”

  The Prince followed him in, wearing his crimson uniform, festooned with medals. He walked around the back of the table, stopping in turn to kiss Iolana’s hand, Esther’s snout, and then Terra’s cheek, before sitting at the far end of the table.

  “Just what I like—arriving in time for tea.”

  Miron, the other footman, filled the Prince’s plate with fish and chips, and dressed a green salad.

  “I’ll take one of those little sandwiches too,” said Clitus. “Cucumber and cress?”

  “With radish sprouts,” confirmed Iolana.

  “Delicious.” He turned to Terra. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be at the church with you, dearest.”

  Terra froze, a chip speared upon her fork halfway to her mouth.

  “Are we doing endearments?” she asked, with a frown.

  “I thought I would try some out—see if one stuck.”

  “Well then. Nothing so pedestrian as dearest.”

  “Pedestrian?”

  “Yes, pedestrian,” she said. “Let’s stay away from those old hackneyed terms like love, beloved and sweetheart, and concentrate on something more unique and apropos.”

  “Well I already know better than to call you Earthworm,” he said.

  “Indeed, though I confess I find it less offensive coming from your lips, my Prince.”

  “How about crumpet?” suggested Esther.

  Iolana tried to swat her on the head, but she moved out of the way.

  “You probably aren’t aware of the connotation that word carries,” said Clitus.

  “Or perhaps she is,” said Iolana. “Perhaps she’s heard about some shocking behavior.”

  “Steady on,” said Clitus.

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “There’s nobody here but us.”

  Clitus looked around, counting five servants in the room with him, all of whom studiously avoided looking in his direction. He cleared his throat.

  “Anyway, Mopsy, I’ve heard from your brother.”

  “No,” said Terra. “No, I don’t care for Mopsy at all, or anything else that implies that I’m short.”

  “You are short,” said Iolana.

  “Ghahk khikheto atuwatt,” hissed Terra.

  “How dare you!” shrieked Iolana.

  “You know that’s physically impossible,” said Esther.

  Clitus could feel the blood rushing to his face.

  “Now ladies. Khikheto.”

  All three females looked at him.

  “Did I say that right?”

  “What were you trying to say, Prince?” asked Terra.

  “Watch your behavior.”

  “With your inflection, it was more like ‘straighten up’,” Esther explained.

  “I suppose that works just as well,” he said.

  “I demand an apology,” Iolana told Terra, “and you know you owe me one for that!”

  “Dutaka tott inghaa,” the younger girl acquiesced.

  “Too right.”

  Clitus sat back and took a bite of his sandwich.

  “I don’t think I want my wife saying ‘here Prince’. I understand that I am a Prince, but that’s also a name people give to their dogs.”

  “Your future mother-in-law’s middle name is Fido,” said Iolana, and when Terra glared at her, she said, “Well, it is.”

&
nbsp; “You were going to tell us what Augie said,” commented Esther.

  “Oh yes.” He withdrew a telegram from his breast pocket.

  To: Clitus Tybalt Iskander Magnus, Prince of Greater Brechalon and Freedonia.

  Your Highness,

  I consent.

  Sincerely,

  Augustus Marek Virgil Dechantagne, Earl of Cordwell, March Lord of Birmisia, Viscount Dechantagne, and Baron of Halvhazl.

  “Mother helped him write that,” said Iolana. “She has always been a master at conciseness, particularly with regards to emotions.”

  * * * * *

  Three nights later, Iolana was away from home. Esther and Terra took advantage of the situation by having dinner with the staff in the servant’s hall. Most of the help felt at ease in their company, to a degree that they wouldn’t, had Lady Iolana been present. Terra was an odd sort of bird who had never put on airs, and Esther was so alien, it was easy to forget that she was a lady in title. Willa, one of the maids, had in fact, become one of Esther’s very best friends, and after dinner joined her and Terra in Esther’s room. There they sipped cocoa and talked about inconsequential things.

  “I think the Autumn Fall was the best party that Lady Iolana ever threw,” said Willa. “Everybody seemed to have fun, especially Lady Irenie. She was ass over tit, of course.”

  “She has a pig nose, doesn’t she?” said Terra, turning so that her legs hung off the side of the chair. “I certainly think so. Nice tits though.”

  Willa laughed loudly.

  “That’s not nice,” Esther pointed out.

  “She said you were a green monster,” said Willa.

  “Well she does have a pig nose,” grumbled Esther.

  “All of that lot was pretty nasty to you,” said Willa. “Only Lady Josephine said anything nice.”

  “What did she say?”

  “Well… it was complimentary.”

  “What was it?”

  “Go on,” urged Terra. “What were her exact words?”

  “I don’t know if I can remember her exact words.”

  “Liar. Go ahead and tell. Esther has a thick skin, literally if not figuratively.”

  “She… she said you didn’t act as bad as you looked.”

  “Damned with faint praise,” said Esther.

  “Khikhiino zsastaka tductu eesta, said Terra.

  “Thank you. If I was a real lizzie, I probably would appreciate it more.”

  “The compliment or your tail?” asked Terra.

  “Both.”

  “What did she say?” wondered Willa.

  “She said that I was the proud possessor of a beautiful tail.”

  “Well, you are.”

  At that moment the door opened and one of the other maids, Doris, poked her head inside.

  “Thought you’d want to know, Her Majesty’s back.”

  Terra snorted cocoa out of her nose.

  “Ssotook!” She wiped her nose and mouth with her hand and then laughed. “Is that what you lot really call her? I can’t wait to tell her.”

  “Please don’t,” said Willa getting up and gathering the cups.

  Putting all the dishes on the large serving tray, the maid carried them to the door. When she opened it, she was startled to find Iolana on the other side. She quickly stepped out of the way, allowing the lady to enter, then left, closing the door after her.

  “You’ll never guess…” Iolana started, and then frowned at Terra. “What have you been doing? You’re a mess.”

  “We’ve been drinking cocoa,” said Esther.

  “Well, before you give Earthworm any more, show her which hole it goes in.”

  “You can’t make me cross this evening, cousin,” said Terra, smiling smugly.

  “That’s good,” Iolana continued, her frown slowly morphing into a smile, “because I have wonderful news.”

  “Don’t keep us waiting, Morning Pest. Tell us what it is.”

  Iolana pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, but continued.

  “I’ve been given a position—associate professor of literature. You’ll have to transfer to the University of Brechalon, so I can assure you have a proper education.”

  “I shall stick it out with St. Dante’s,” said Terra. “I’m sure that’s all the education I’ll need as a princess.”

  “He hasn’t asked you yet,” scoffed her cousin.

  “As good as. The invitations to dinner at the palace came today—for all three of us.”

  “Hmm. Very well. Come with me to my room and we’ll brush each other’s hair. You too, Esther.”

  “Must I?” asked Esther. “I don’t have hair.”

  “Yes, you must.”

  An hour later, all three were in Iolana’s chambers, in their nightclothes. Terra sat at the vanity, while her cousin brushed her thick, dark hair. Esther sat on the edge of the bed, watching.

  “Was there anything interesting in the post?” asked Iolana. “I mean, besides the invitation from the palace. Ha! Look how nonchalant we are. Another invitation from the palace. Ho-hum.”

  “There are several items on the tray at your desk,” said Esther.

  “Well, go get them. I’m on stroke ninety-two, and you know I must get two hundred-fifty for my poor, pathetic, princess cousin.”

  The lizzie retrieved the items in question.

  “You have three bills for payment and an invitation of some kind from Ewa Windsdall.”

  Iolana sighed. “I’ll read it tomorrow.”

  “And here is a letter from Mrs. Marzell Lance.”

  “A letter from Willa? Here. Come take over for me. This is stroke one hundred.”

  “I’m sure that’s enough,” said Terra, getting up and climbing into the large four-poster bed.

  Esther followed.

  Iolana picked up a silver letter opener and slit the envelope, taking out four sheets of paper, covered on both sides with carefully flowing script. She flipped through them quickly.

  “Read it aloud then, Cuz’,” said Terra, curling up with her head in Esther’s lap.

  “Not until I’ve read it all to make sure… Oh my. Why did she wait so long to tell me? Poor Ascan.”

  “What is it?”

  “Ascan’s wife died of some bizarre pestilence.”

  “Then you’ll head back to Birmisia?” asked Esther. “He’s free. You can marry him.”

  “Don’t be stupid. I have a life here. I’m an associate professor of literature. It’s everything I’ve always wanted.”

  “Not everything,” said Terra.

  * * * * *

  The dinner had been a big one—large, prestigious, opulent, elegant, lavish. The proposal had gone off over dessert as choreographed. Then the party had split, the women going on through to the drawing room, while the men adjourned to the smoking lounge. Princess Henrietta put her hand on Terra’s shoulder and leaned over to place her mouth near the girl’s ear.

  “You are marrying the most beautiful man,” she said. “Er ist so wunderbar.”

  “Oh, ich weiß, dass er ist,” replied Terra. “Stellen sie sicher, dass sie sie nicht vergessen, die er mir ist.”

  Henrietta pulled her head back, looking surprised. But then she nodded, and leaned forward to kiss Terra on the cheek.

  Terra felt a pull on her shoulder and turned to look up into her fiancé’s blue eyes.

  “Missing me, treasure?” he asked.

  “No, I don’t think so. Not treasure.”

  “But you are missing me, cabbage?”

  “Oh my, no. No vegetables or meats. I have been missing you though, bully.”

  Iolana arrived at Henrietta’s side, and guided the Princess away to talk to some of the other ladies.

  “Bully?” The Prince looked up as his mouth tried it out. “I think I rather like that.”

  “Of course,” said Terra. “I’ve spent a great deal of time thinking about it. Something you have obviously not.”

  “Forgive me, turtle.”

  “No
animals,” she said.

  “Do you know how I got here, amoret?”

  She shook her head, but said, “Obviously through the secret passage behind that bookshelf.”

  “Yes. Come on, I’ll show you.”

  He led her to the bookshelf and didn’t bother to look to see if he was being watched before pressing a button along the side. The bookcase slid to the right, revealing a wide portal. They walked through and the bookcase slid back, closing off the passage. The room beyond was not a dark hallway, but rather a comfortable, well-lit little room, with several chairs and a small occasional table.

  “The servants use this room to move between the gentlemen and the ladies. It’s not much of a secret. Everyone knows about it.”

  She leaned in close and wrapped her arms around his waist. He looked down into her warm chocolate eyes.

  “Can I have a kiss then, brownie?”

  Her face broke into a wide grin.

  “Kiss me, bully.”

  He did. It was a kiss he would remember for the rest of his life.

  Chapter Twenty-Two: Stars

  Senta was standing in front of her house when a car drove through the gate, up the drive, and stopped right in front of her. All four of the occupants stared at her. She was dressed in leather pants and a leather bustier instead of a shirt. This left the two star sigils on her chest in full view. She had recently shortened her hair to chin-length and today it was partially covered by a black top hat.

  “Well, if it isn’t the whole Baxter clan,” she said.

  Kieran Baxter was driving and Bryony sat in the front passenger seat. In the back, were Sen and little Kerry.

  “Daddy is driving us to the dinosaur ranch,” said Sen.

  “Well isn’t that lovely. Bryony came along for the ride as well.”

  “I’m riding shotgun,” said Bryony.

  “Are you all packed, Sen?”

  The girl held up a medium-sized purse—lime green to match her walking dress.

  “Even so,” said her mother, holding up a similarly sized bag in black. “Come along, Felicity!”