by Barb Hendee
So we helped each other choose a gown for the day.
She held up one of her own dresses to my shoulder, a beautiful amber silk. “It’s a pity we cannot share gowns,” she said. “This color suits you better than me.”
The difference in our sizes was so great that we’d never be able to share clothing, but her words touched me. My own sisters would not think to be so generous.
Once we were dressed, Kamilla piled up our hair, and we each wore a simple gold chain.
As we left our apartments and descended the curving stairs, I could see Ashton was nervous. The people might love her, but Rowan had always done the public speaking in common court, and he passed down decisions.
This would be her first time standing in his place.
I began to see why she wanted me beside her.
When we emerged from the corridor into the vast entry chamber, six guards fell into step behind us. Ahead waited the tall archway of the great hall.
When the princess walked in with me beside her, all the people inside the hall turned to stare at us. As of yet, no one had spoken to the public of the tumultuous events of last week. Linking her arm in mine, Ashton walked through the crowd. Ahead, on the dais, the large chair and the smaller chair had been placed side by side.
After we’d ascended, Ashton turned to the face the crowd.
“My people,” she said, and her voice carried. “I beg your forgiveness for not having come to you sooner. I have been in a place of darkness, bleeding over the loss of my brother, of our king.”
The emotion in her words had impact, and I saw tears running down a number of faces in the crowd. These people had not been given a chance to publicly mourn their king. My gaze paused on Captain Caron, who stood rigid, near the back, hanging on her every word.
“His loss leaves a hole in the world that can never be filled,” she continued. “But you have my love, and you have my ear, and I will do my best to serve you, as you have always served me.”
Even I found myself caught up in her speech. It was so genuine, so real.
Turning, she motioned to me. “This is the lady Olivia Géroux. She would have married my brother and been your next queen. She would have been my sister. From now on, she will sit beside me here in court and lend you her ear as well.”
From now on…
I fought to keep my expression still. We did not live in a world of “would have beens.” We lived in a world of what was. I had not married Rowan. I would not be queen. I was not Ashton’s sister.
And yet…not a single face in the crowd frowned in confusion or disapproval. Ashton spoke, and they listened.
Her words were all these people required.
She seated herself, and I followed suit.
“Bring forth the first case,” she said.
Jarvis took his place to one side of the dais, unrolled a list, and called up two men from the craftsmen’s guild who were in dispute over placement of stalls in the upcoming fair. I was still so rattled I barely followed the discussion, but I also realized I knew nothing of the layout of the city or the marketplace, and I’d be of no use to Ashton in this matter. Thankfully, it wasn’t a complicated issue, and she managed to help the men work out an agreement. I was aware that the fair was an important event, and the crown took part of the proceeds in taxes, so I made a mental note to learn more of the inner workings.
The next case was more difficult. Apparently, a section on the seaward side of the castle had collapsed during a storm in the spring. The basic work had been completed, but now an artisan mason was needed for the fine work. This was a large job, requiring months of work, and it paid well.
Jarvis had conducted the initial search, and he’d narrowed the candidates down to two men of equal skill. He wished for Ashton to make the final choice.
The two men took turns relating their skills, and they both sounded more than qualified. As I listened, something about one of the men caught my attention. He wore an indigo shirt with black buttons.
Then I noted that Jarvis had referred to him as “Cameron Compté.”
Ashton leaned forward. “You are both fine masons of equal skill, and we are fortunate to have such artisans here in the city. This decision is most difficult, but Master Compté’s family is in the greatest need at present, and I award the position to him.”
While this seemed an unusual reason to award the post to one man over the other, the people in the crowd nodded at her choice. Perhaps it made her seem more connected to their daily lives.
Unfortunately, it caused me to begin to feel self-conscious and useless sitting up there. When Rowan had sat in the large chair, Ashton whispered snippets of information and advice to him in almost every case. I knew nothing of the workings of this city or the people who lived here.
None of the cases were particularly complex, and in each one, I’d have made the same decision as Ashton, but my purpose here was not to make decisions. My purpose was to listen and offer her assistance.
Then…a man and a woman were called before the dais. She ran a business making casks, and he was a winemaker. She had delivered a large number of casks he’d ordered, and he had not paid the bill, citing hardship and asking for an extension.
“I’ve already granted him an extension, my princess,” the woman said, “twice. He has no intention of paying what he owes, and my men worked for three months on those casks. We turned down other work because his order was so large.”
The man held up both hands. “I cannot pay what I do not have. The price of burgundy wine has fallen this year, and I’ve not been able to cover my own costs, much less pay some of my debts.”
A few faces in the crowd darkened, but no one spoke.
At this, I sat up straight as I remembered something. At one of the embroidery circles in the dowager’s quarters, Lord Sauvage’s wife, Miranda, had been joking about her husband’s poor temper due to the increased cost of burgundy wine—which was his favorite. The sweetness of last year’s crop had produced a fine vintage, and its popularity had caused a sharp rise in price.
A number of the people in the crowd must know this, but I wasn’t certain about Ashton.
Turning my head, I spoke softly. “He’s lying. The price of burgundy wine is sky-high this year.”
Ashton leaned forward, addressing the winemaker. “As the price of burgundy wine has indeed not fallen, but risen, you will make good on your debt today.” Her voice was firm, and she looked to Jarvis. “You will see to this.”
The winemaker paled. He’d apparently not expected this decision.
But people in the crowd nodded approval. Ashton appeared both in the right and a just leader.
I would never be like Ashton, connected on a personal level to the common people. I would never know their names or who was having children or who was out of work or who was ill. But…I could learn more about the guilds and the smaller points of commerce in this city. In this way, I could make myself useful to her.
Several more cases were presented, and then common court ended for the day.
Ashton stood, and I followed suit. Our guards fell in behind as we swept from the great hall together.
Once through the archway, Ashton exhaled. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“I wasn’t much help,” I whispered back.
“You were. I could not have done that without you.”
At the mouth of the corridor leading to the south towers, she stopped. “I have a gown fitting, then I’m going down to the old stable to check the progress of the sorting of donations. I’ve not been there since…since…” She trailed off, and then added. “Would you like to stay with me, or do you have other plans?”
Though I had no plans, my mind was full, and I was too restless to sit through a gown fitting.
“I think I’ve been indoors too much,” I answered. “A walk in the courtyard migh
t do me good.”
She smiled. “Yes, of course. If you can, come find me in the stable later. We can always use the help.”
Though I hardly relished sorting through hand-me-down blankets and fetching sacks of flour, such acts might be part of my life now—and they were certainly preferable to being sent home.
“I will.”
Turning, I made my way back through the entry chamber to the corridor leading out the front of the castle. Upon stepping outside in the fresh air, I closed my eyes and breathed in, smelling salt from the sea on the air. There would be repercussions from what Ashton had done today…seating me beside her on the dais.
Of this, I was sure.
When I opened my eyes again, Captain Caron stood not ten paces away, watching me.
Chapter Thirteen
“Captain,” I said.
He came closer, studying me. “I think in private, it’s time you started calling me Micah.”
Yes. Ashton always called him by his given name. So had Rowan and Genève.
“That was risky in the hall today,” he went on.
As always with him, I seemed to have no defenses. “I don’t have a choice.”
“What is it you want, Olivia? What are you striving for, here?”
“It’s not so much what I want, as what I don’t want…and I don’t want to be sent home.”
His eyes continued to scan my face. “Are you afraid?”
I wasn’t about to answer that. “I need to be useful to Ashton. I was not useful enough on the dais today.”
“You were. She knows nothing of the price of wine.”
An idea struck me. He was a man who walked in a mix of social circles, and therefore rare. “I should like to learn more of the city’s commerce, of the workings of the merchants and the artisans, so I might be of help to Ashton. Do you know such people? Could you bring a few here and introduce me?”
He considered this for a long moment. “I’ll do you one better. Come with me.”
As he started for the castle gates, I felt awkward hurrying after him. “Where are we going?”
“Into the city. You said you wanted to learn more. The best way to do that is firsthand.”
* * * *
At first, the thought of passing through the gates and exploring the city with Micah seemed terribly wrong. I had no permission. I’d asked no permission. This somehow seemed a breach of all propriety and rules.
Then I realized there was no one to ask. My father wasn’t here. I certainly didn’t need Ashton’s permission to leave the courtyard. In many ways, at this moment, I was…free. So, I walked out the castle gates beside Micah and out into the streets of Partheney, alone in the company of a man to whom I was neither married nor related. Yes, he was the commander of the castle guard, but today he was not playing that role.
It all felt rather scandalous.
I liked it.
“Have you eaten lunch?” he asked.
“No.” I’d barely eaten breakfast.
“Come this way,” he said.
I followed, and we walked down a street of fine houses. After about five city blocks, he turned west, and I found myself amidst several streets of fine shops with colorful signs and awnings.
“There,” he said, pointing to a shop with a bright yellow awning and numerous tables with chairs set up out front.
As we approached, my mouth began to water at the smell of freshly baked bread.
About thirty people already sat at the tables, drinking mugs of tea or eating rolls and sausages.
Micah pulled a chair out at an empty table. “Sit, my lady.”
No matter how polite he was, it sounded like an order. Perhaps he was simply accustomed to spending his days giving orders?
Nevertheless, I sat. I was hungry, and this experience was new. Eating with common people at a table outdoors? Several people called greetings to Micah and looked at me with open curiosity. With a slight thrill, I realized they’d have no idea who I was. Young noblewomen did not sit in public with soldiers wearing chain armor.
A large man with a thick mustache strode up to our table. He wore an apron. “Captain. Good to see you? How are you this morning?” Then he glanced at me.
Micah didn’t introduce me. “I’m well, Bertram. Could you bring us rolls, sausages, and spiced tea?”
With a nod, Bertram left, but he returned almost immediately with a tray, and my mouth watered again. The rolls were light brown and still steaming. I could smell the spice in the tea. With some alarm, I realized I carried no money, but Micah paid for our meal, and I was in no position to object.
Once we alone at the table again, he gestured to the food. “Eat, my lady. You won’t find finer bread anywhere in the city.”
The sausages were warm, but not hot, and I enjoyed the food more than anything I’d eaten at the castle. The day was fine, and I was comfortable without a cloak even with the sea air blowing softly through the streets. The life of the city pulsed around me, and white clouds floated overhead in a blue sky. Again, I felt…free. Micah stretched out his long legs and ate three of the rolls. For a moment, I allowed myself to become lost in an illusion that this was real, that I belonged with him, and I belonged at this table among these people.
“Your home is in the southeast?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Did you grow up in a manor?”
“No. A drafty stone keep. I was never fond of it.”
Why did I always tell him what I was thinking? Father would warn me to hold my tongue.
“What about you?” I asked.
“I grew up in the castle barracks. My mother died not long after I was born, and my father served in the royal guard.”
“So you have no siblings?”
“No, and I was raised in a world of men, so I often wished for sisters.”
“Well, you can have both of mine,” I said lightly. “They’re awful.”
Looking up from his tea, he laughed. It was the first time he’d even smiled since Rowan’s death. His light brown eyes glowed. A fresh gust of sea air blew across my face, and I felt happiness rising inside me. I wished I could stop this moment and remain here forever.
A stocky woman in a fine velvet gown came striding from the street with an aura of energy.
At the sight of her, Micah sat straight. “Emilee.”
Turning her head, she brightened at the sight of him and came over. “Captain. Did you finally get an afternoon to yourself?” Then she glanced at me. “And you’ve brought fair company.”
I found her blunt manner a little off-putting, but Micah surprised me by saying, “May I present the lady Olivia Géroux.”
At first, she offered a short laugh, as if he were joking, but then she took in the cut of my gown and the blood began draining from her face.
“Olivia Gér…” She cast her eyes about and then spoke to Micah. “You’re serious? The lady who was to marry the king? Are you mad? You can’t bring her down here. Are you alone?”
Suddenly, I was self-conscious. The pretty illusion around me vanished. Micah had been mad to bring me here and have us sit in public with no other escort. What if word of this got out?
“Sit down,” he told her. “Then we won’t be alone.”
With a startled huff, she sat.
He looked to me. “My lady, this is Emilee Martine. Her husband owns one of the most profitable wine trades in all of Partheney, but Emilee runs the business. If you want to talk to someone connected to commerce here, she’s the one.”
This rendered Emilee silent, and she stared at me.
I wasn’t sure what to say, as I had no idea what to ask her.
Finally, she said, “I heard you were in court this morning, sitting beside the princess, and you helped her put Milton le Grange in his place.”
Milton le Gr
ange? Was he the winemaker trying to wriggle out of his debt? Word had certainly traveled quickly. But this gave me an opening.
“Yes,” I said.
“How did you know about the price of burgundy?” she asked.
This was not an impertinent question. I wasn’t managing a household, and women of my station often had no idea of the price of common goods.
“Sheer dumb luck,” I answered. “I’d heard that Lord Sauvage was complaining.”
She was taken aback at first, and then she smiled broadly. “But you want to talk to me about commerce?”
“Yes.” I nodded. “The princess intends to have me on the dais, and I wish to be of help to her and to the merchants. But I need to know more, much more. I promise if you will teach me, you’ll always have my ear in the common court.”
Her smile faded as she listened, as if she wasn’t hearing me correctly. Then she glanced at Micah. “She means this?”
He nodded. “I think so.”
“All right, then,” she said to me. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” Turning her head, she called to a woman at another table. “Adela! Come over here and sit.” Lowering her voice, she spoke to me again. “Adela and her husband trade in wool.”
Wool was an important industry here on the coast, where the winters were long and cold.
Coming over to join us, Adela sat down. “What?”
Emilee jutted her chin toward me. “Meet the lady Olivia Géroux.”
Adela’s mouth fell open.
Micah leaned back and stretched out his legs again.
* * * *
After a most enlightening afternoon, Micah got me back to the castle in time to dress for dinner.
Though I didn’t yet feel safe, I felt safer than I had since Rowan’s death. At least I was forearmed with useful information. The merchant women of Partheney had been generous with their time and knowledge. Emilee introduced me to a number of women, and in a matter of hours, I’d learned a great deal about the guilds and taxes and tariffs and current prices of goods for this year.
