by Barb Hendee
The dowager queen rose from the table and approached her son.
“You should lead the dance, my king,” she said in her smooth voice, “and partner with our guest of honor.”
A jolt ran through me at her brilliance. While a lady could never ask a man to dance, someone like the dowager queen suggesting it couldn’t be ignored. Rowan would have no choice but to lead me out onto the floor.
To my astonishment, he stood up. “Forgive me, Mother. I’m not disposed to dance tonight. It’s been a trying day, and I would retire to a quieter place.” He leaned around her to look down the table. “Ashton, I’ve a mind to play chess.”
She was still eating her tart, but she put down her fork instantly. “Of course.”
They both left the table, heading for the archway. Everyone watched them leave.
At this, even Genève froze. This was more than a slight. He’d just refused his mother’s pointed invitation to dance with me and then abandoned the dinner being held for me. It was an insult. Baron Augustine appeared shocked beyond words.
I didn’t let anything show on my face as my mind raced for a graceful path forward.
To my everlasting gratitude, Lord Moreau stood and held out his hand. “The king has been kind enough to give me the pleasure of dancing with our beautiful guest. Will you join me, my lady?”
I smiled back as if there was nothing in the world more pleasant than accepting his offer. “I would be honored, my lord.”
I took his hand.
All eyes were upon me as we moved out onto the floor. He grasped my left hand and my waist as we began. I was skilled dancer, and so was Moreau. He was a slender man with a thin mustache. Though he was not as close a friend to our family as Baron Augustine, he’d visited our keep several times, and I knew him slightly. He had a reputation for gambling, but he was respected on the council.
Other couples soon joined us on the floor, and we were no longer the center of attention.
Relaxing slightly, he studied my face as we danced. “Don’t distress yourself. You’re doing well.”
This was the first attempt at honesty anyone had made here, and I wanted to jump at it. But could I trust him?
“Am I?” I responded. “He’s not yet even spoken to me.”
“No, but neither can he send you away, and you’ve managed to smile through his insults. The dowager queen was wise to bring in a daughter from the house of Géroux. Your father did not raise fools.”
“You wish for this wedding to take place?” I asked.
“Wish for it? I’d carry you both down the aisle myself. So would any man on the council. Rowan is a fine king, stronger in some ways than Eduard ever was, and he listens to the council. He can hold our kingdom safe, but he needs to marry and establish a line. The people expect it.” He paused in his words if not his fluid movements on the dance floor. “And I can already see that you would make a fine queen.”
Though I was relieved at this honest exchange, in part, it served only to frustrate me more. “Surely, he can see that as well? Why is he so opposed to marriage?”
Something flickered across Moreau’s face, almost a nervous twitch. But he shook his head. “Who can know the inner workings of a king’s mind? Perhaps he does not see the importance of this one element. We must protect him from himself and help him down the correct path.”
To me, this seemed not only a weak answer, but also an evasion. Moreau knew more than he was saying.
“If that is the case,” I asked, “how am I to seduce him if he won’t acknowledge me?”
“You don’t,” he answered flatly, spinning me faster to an increase in the tempo.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Don’t try to charm him. He’s immune. Trust me on this count. Simply do what you’ve been doing tonight. Smile and pretend nothing is amiss. You cannot win him over. In this instance, he will only be swayed by a show of strength.”
To my shame, this advice actually brought relief. I was no charming seductress, and I was only too familiar with men who responded to nothing but strength. Still…
“How does that help me succeed?”
“He’ll have to be bullied,” Moreau answered. “But you needn’t worry about that. The dowager queen and the council can manage him. You only need make it clear that you won’t respond to his insults and that you have no intention of leaving. We’ll handle the rest.”
This assurance should have increased my relief, but it didn’t. As he’d already stated, my father did not raise fools. While I would use any support offered by the dowager or the men on the council, the only person I trusted entirely was myself.
I had to ensure my own success here, and that meant I’d need leverage over Rowan. What was his weak point?
All men had one.
* * * *
The next morning, I had a breakfast tray in my room, and then Kamilla came to see if I required help getting dressed. She didn’t appear to mind serving both the princess and me.
“Which gown, my lady?” she asked, looking through my largest trunk. “I’ll have a maid come in today to unpack for you.”
Which gown? I wasn’t certain.
“I’ve not been told of today’s activities,” I answered. “The daily rhythms of the castle are still new to me.”
For some reason, I felt safe admitting such things to her. Father would have scorned me for such behavior, but I required some assistance here, and she didn’t appear to judge my ignorance.
“Of course they are,” she said. “You’ve only just arrived. I’m sure the dowager queen will invite you to tea later today to help set up your schedule, but this morning is common court day. Twice a month, the king holds court in the great hall, so the common people might bring him problems or grievances. It could be useful for you to attend.”
“Yes.”
It could be very useful to see Rowan interacting with his people. I might learn a great deal.
“Perhaps this one, my lady,” Kamilla said, lifting a tan muslin day gown from my trunk.
In addition to green, tan was also a color that suited my red hair. I nodded to her.
* * * *
I arrived at the great hall to find it packed, so I stood quietly in the back, observing.
A dais had been set up at the front of the hall with a large chair near the front of the dais and a smaller chair set halfway behind the large one.
Rowan, wearing his crown, sat in the large chair…and Ashton sat in the small one.
This did take me aback. I had listened to some of the rumors that Rowan didn’t care to share power with anyone, but if he wanted a woman’s counsel in court, I would have expected the dowager queen. For one, Ashton would not be here much longer. It was already past time she should have been married off. Even more, Ashton lacked both strength and intelligence. What assistance could he possibly gain from her?
Six guards in light blue and yellow tabards stood behind them.
A well-dressed man who appeared to be a secretary of some kind stood on the floor to Rowan’s right. He held an unrolled piece of paper in his hands.
Two men knelt on the floor directly below the dais. They were of similar coloring and facial structure. Though still in their early twenties, their skin was rough and weathered. Rowan listened as one of them spoke.
“No matter what our father wrote down,” the man said, “by right the boat is mine. I am the eldest.”
“That’s not what Father wanted,” the other man responded angrily. “He wanted us both to have a living! He made certain before he died.”
Rowan studied the brothers. “So, while your father lived, the three of you were able to peaceably run your fishing business, but now that he’s gone, the two of you cannot work together?”
The elder brother spoke again. “We could if my brother would only recognize me as the captain, w
ith greater rights of spoils, and he would follow my orders with the other men. I am the eldest. Such is my right.”
The younger brother grew angrier. “Then why did Father leave a will making us equal partners?”
I absorbed this story with interest, wondering how I might solve it myself. If Rowan ordered the two men to make peace and try to work together, it appeared that only greater conflict would ensue, but…it would be unfair of him to alter the final wishes of their father.
“Could you sell the boat and divide the profits between you?” Rowan asked. “Then you might each have money to begin a new business of your own.”
“Sell the boat?” asked the elder brother in amazement. “No. It has been in our family since we were boys.”
Before Rowan could speak again, Ashton rose and leaned in close to his ear, whispering softly. He tilted his head and listened. After a few moments, she sat back down.
Rowan looked to the brothers. “The princess tells me that she knows your wives, and the family owns a second fishing boat, a somewhat smaller one that you hire out.”
“Yes, my king,” the elder brother answered.
“And this boat was also left to both of you, and you equally split the money from any profits earned from hiring it out?”
“Yes, my king.”
“Would you be willing to sign the second boat over to your brother outright?” Rowan asked the elder brother. Then he looked to the younger. “If he did this, would you be willing to give up rights to the first one? This way, you would each have your boat and your own fishing business.”
While this was somewhat disadvantageous to the younger brother, it did sound like the best possible compromise.
At first, neither brother appeared pleased. The elder was greedy for any profits, and the younger was indignant over being challenged for what he considered his due. But within a moment or two, they also must have seen the ultimate sense of the king’s suggestion. At least they would no longer need to work together.
“Yes, my king,” they both said, and rose partially to begin backing away.
But Rowan was already looking to the well-dressed secretary. “Jarvis, announce the next case.”
My eyes moved to Ashton as I mulled over the realization that this compromise had come from something she’d whispered in Rowan’s ear. How often did she sit up there with him when he held court?
Feeling a presence at my left shoulder, I looked up. Captain Caron towered over me.
“My lady,” he whispered softly in greeting.
Though I tended to prefer clean-shaven men, his blond, close beard suited him. His eyes were so light brown they were almost transparent. Again, he made me feel small and delicate. I pushed the thought away.
“The king takes counsel from his sister?” I whispered back.
At first, he didn’t answer. Then he said, “Rowan is a good king. He’d defend this nation with his life. But he has a blind spot when it comes to the daily lives of the people, and he’s wise enough to know it. Princess Ashton understands the needs of the people.”
I hardly believed the latter. Ashton didn’t strike me as bright enough to lace up the front of her own gown. She’d most likely passed Rowan some snippet of gossip she’d heard and he had extrapolated. But I was impressed by the loyalty in this captain’s voice. I hoped that someday soon, he’d be as loyal to me when I sat in the chair beside King Rowan.
As the morning passed, though, the captain stayed with me while I listened to case after case, and with each one, my confusion about the dynamics here only grew. In nearly every dispute, at some point, Ashton would rise and whisper to her brother. Only after this would Rowan make a decision or present a compromise. He was never impatient, and he clearly preferred for people to agree with his rulings rather than having to enforce them.
But Ashton was becoming more of a mystery to me. Was she actually providing him with assistance or was her presence here for show? I had to admit they did make a pretty pair of royals up on that dais, appearing to work together for the good of their subjects.
When the last case had been heard, the secretary named Jarvis announced that court was now closed.
Rowan stood. Ashton followed suit. He offered his arm, and she took it. Together, they walked through the crowd as their guards followed.
I stood near the archway.
Ashton glanced at me with a warm smile, but Rowan kept his eyes straight ahead. Perhaps it was time I learned more about Ashton.
“Where will the princess go now?” I asked the captain.
“To the old stable on the east side of the courtyard. She and some of the women do their charity work in there.”
Charity work? What did that mean? But I wasn’t going to ask him, lest I look even more uninformed.
I nodded. “Thank you.”
* * * *
After walking outside and through the courtyard, I asked a guard for directions to the old stable. He escorted me partway and pointed to a somewhat faded building beside the barracks.
“There, my lady.”
“Why is it called the old stable?”
Turning, he pointed to the other end of the barracks. “Because a new one was built several years ago.”
Though I was still uncertain of the situation, I nodded and walked toward the old stable. The doors were open, and I stepped inside to see numerous tables spread all around, stacked with a wide variety of items from blankets to clothing to food stores. Several wagons were parked in open spaces between the tables.
There was a second level above, and instead of the usual ladder, a set of makeshift stairs had been arranged.
Princess Ashton stood on the main floor, near a table, and she was folding blankets. The sleeves of her gown were rolled up. She must have come directly from court.
“Reanne,” she called toward the stairs. “We’ll need one more sack of flour. Can you carry it, or should I call in one of the men?”
“No, I can manage,” a voice called back.
Several other women moved about the main floor. Some were servants, but others looked more prosperous, not noble, but perhaps the wives or daughters of merchants.
When Ashton saw me enter, her face lit up. “Olivia, how good to see you. Have you come to help?”
Help? I wasn’t even sure what was happening here.
Approaching her, I nodded. “Yes, Princess. I’m glad to help…but what is it you’re doing?”
“Please call me Ashton. We’re nearly sisters. I think we can use given names in private.”
Again, everyone seemed so certain my marriage would take place soon—with the exception of my would-be husband.
A young woman came down the stairs carrying a sack of flour and loaded it into one of the wagons.
“We’re gathering supplies for the poor,” Ashton explained. “There is so much need right now. Between the drought last year and the sea storm this spring, both the farmers and the fishermen’s families need whatever we can offer.”
Astonished, I turned to the cart. It was laden with flour, dried beans, jerked beef, blankets, and various items of clothing.
“You’re sending all that to the poor?” I asked.
She blinked. “Of course. Don’t you organize drives in your father’s keep?”
Drives? What did that mean?
I looked around myself at the tables. “Where did all this come from?”
“From those who are most fortunate.” She still seemed puzzled by my questions. “I have a list of nobles, merchants, and city leaders who are willing to donate. I send out word of what we most need, and then twice a moon, we spend several days gathering. We organize in here, and send wagons out where they are most needed.”
High windows in the barn allowed sunlight to filter inside. The light showed dust hanging in the air. I was still almost too astonished for words.<
br />
“How often do you work in here?” I asked.
“How often?” She laughed softly. “Every day. There’s always something that needs to be done, even if it’s just sorting and organizing. This is a large task, and winter will only bring more need.”
Every day.
I could not get my head around that. The princess of our kingdom spent time every day working in an old stable to sort out food and blankets for needy commoners. How could her mother allow it?
“Do you go out gathering and delivering yourself?” I asked.
At this, her smile faded. “Not so much as I’d like. I used to go quite a bit, but I’m only allowed out the castle gate if Micah can escort me, and ever since he was promoted to commander of the guard, he has less time.”
It took a few seconds for me to realize she referred to Captain Caron. She called him by his given name? Then I remembered Rowan had done the same. How odd. I didn’t even know Captain Reynaud’s given name.
“Captain Caron is young to hold such a command,” I ventured.
She nodded. “Yes, but last year, Captain Trevar took a fall off a horse and broke his knee so badly it wouldn’t mend. He had to retire, and Rowan wanted someone he could trust. He trusts Micah.”
This was another interesting piece of information. King Rowan valued men he trusted over men with more experience.
“Would you like to help?” she asked.
I would not. I found all this quite beneath a person of her station—or my own. But turning around and leaving would appear impolite.
“What can I do?”
“The Compté family has a new baby,” she said, “and Theresa hasn’t recovered from the birth. I was able to get out and visit last week, but I’ve heard things haven’t improved. Her husband, Cameron, is an artisan mason, but he’s not found much work this summer. Go to the back of the stable and find some clean cloths for nappies. Then go upstairs. Most of the food is there. See if you can find some of last year’s strawberry preserves. Theresa might need more fruit in her diet.” Walking to another table, she lifted an indigo shirt with black buttons. “And I think I’ll send this for Cameron.”
