Chloë

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Chloë Page 21

by Marcus LaGrone


  “Now I want to hear you ‘doodle’ on the piano! Please!” grinned Chloë.

  Heather offered a sheepish grin as she sat down at the piano, “Okay, but don’t expect too much.” Don’t expect too much… Everyone in the hall for the next half hour was floored at Heather’s performance. More and more minor nobles filed into the room to listen to Heather play. Attendants waiting in the wings, stretched and listened in as well. All were captivated by Heather’s extensive repertoire and fantastic skill. When she finally stopped she was greeted by a thunderous applause from the entire hall!

  Heather’s fur stood on end from the reply and her ears flushed painfully.

  “That was wonderful!” beamed Chloë as she hugged the shocked Highlander.

  “All I could hear was my First Mother over my shoulder telling me what I was doing wrong…”

  “Did she ever tell you what you were doing right?” asked Chloë.

  “Well yeah. Parents always hand out positive fluff…”

  “Heather! You sweet, wonderful, talented girl, did you ever consider that it wasn’t ‘fluff’ and was instead honest praise?”

  Heather seemed even more uncomfortable with that thought than all the applause. But a smile quickly crept back on her face as they watched the Count Alfonso and Raymond approach, both full of smiles.

  “That was wonderful, Lady Heather! I’ve not heard piano of such mastery since I heard the illustrious Ivy Stratford play, oh some twenty years ago while visiting Garsivale!” beamed the count.

  “Well, Ivy Stratford is my First Mother…” offered Heather sheepishly.

  “That explains much! Like mother like daughter!” grinned the count. “Too bad she stopped performing, she was…”

  “First Mother still performs, she just doesn’t tour. If you would like to hear her play in person, just aim this tin can at Afon,” offered Heather with a grin.

  The count laughed, “Good try, Lady Heather. But our first stop is Bervik VI.”

  “So, your grace, we are going to see the Crown Princess?” asked Raymond.

  The count nodded, “It is close to neutral ground and I have to concur: it is not an unreasonable request to see one’s mother…”

  That was as close to a living, breathing, feeling, response Chloë had heard yet from the count. “How long until we reach there?”

  “Less than three days, your Highness. We are still thirty hours from a safe point to execute a clean jump, and then it will take some time once again to safely approach the planet itself.”

  “So this rig has a jump drive?” asked Heather with a little apprehension in her voice.

  “Of course, lady Heather! This is a top of the line vessel!”

  Raymond grinned as he leaned forward and kissed Heather on the cheek, “Don’t worry, there is plenty of time.”

  Heather grinned and then, to the astonishment of everyone in the hall, pulled Raymond closer and gave him a proper kiss!

  “Um, I guess that answers the other questions…” murmured the count with a bit of a smirk.

  48

  A mellow day merged into a peaceful evening and Heather quickly made a mockery of all the other minor nobles. Dance! They wanted to put on a formal dance! Heather could not refuse! Chloë laughed as she remembered back to teaching Heather all the court dances she knew while they were stuck in the cargo container, and now Heather was recalling and embellishing on them flawlessly! Heather’s dance came across as perfection in motion and all the nobles soon found themselves wanting in skill as the Highlander was showing them up. There had been snarky comments on the side, veiled of course, as many thought the boisterous Highlander was out of her league amongst the nobles. Those voices fell aside and became apologetic as they clumsily tried to match her form and poise. The only blot on Heather’s performance on the dance floor was brave Raymond as he fought to keep up with her. He held his own against the others on the floor, but it was going to take a lot more practice for him to reach Heather’s level! No longer a novelty for her skill on piano, Heather’s grace of form and movement were widely envied.

  Chloë just laughed and enjoyed it all from the sidelines, basking in the complements that were being leveled on her dear friend. Old Tongue was the language of the evening: it was what Heather spoke, and Chloë refused to answer in anything that her friend couldn’t understand. Many a tutor was being cursed under their breath as the nobles fought for a level of sophistication that they truly lacked.

  “She is a sight to behold, so graceful and polished,” began the countess. “She seems so rough, yet is capable of such beauty.”

  Chloë just beamed, “Rough or polished, she is a wonderful friend.”

  “She does take your friendship for granted, your Highness. She seems to completely forget her station when talking with you. I’ve yet to hear one honorific from her at all.”

  “She knows her station and she knows it well,” replied Chloë with a smirk. “It is my station that is in question, not hers.”

  “But your Highness! You are the Princess Amsterval! Heir to the House!”

  “Prince Philip thinks me a broodmare, not heir to the House.”

  The countess fought for her composure, “Your Highness! You shouldn’t say such things!”

  “What? Speak the truth, even if it is unpopular? Someone has to…” snapped Chloë. “If you want to know Heather’s station, if you want to know my station: we consider ourselves sisters. It is up to the rest of you to figure out what that means… Good evening your grace!” Chloë turned, leaving the countess on the sideline and briefly joined Heather on the floor between dances.

  “These guys are out of practice,” grinned Heather.

  “No, no they are doing fine,” retorted Raymond. “You are just fantastic!”

  Chloë beamed, “He’s right, of course!” Her face shifted to a serious tone. “Can we talk, and do you think we are secure?”

  “Pulled two bugs off of you… one obvious, one not so obvious…” grinned Heather. “What’s the concern?”

  “I’m perfectly willing to go to Bervik VI, heck, I want to! But I want to on my terms,” murmured Chloë still nervous of being overheard.

  “Well, all my belongings made it up from the planet surface,” grinned Raymond.

  “And?” asked Chloë confused by the statement.

  “Shukurae emergency beacon and all,” he grinned.

  Chloë’s eyes went wide with giddy excitement, “Oh! Well that should be fun then!”

  “Yes, yes indeed, your Highness, so let’s just enjoy the evening.”

  Chloë’s grin threatened to consume her face, “Let’s!”

  49

  The ship shuddered violently, waking Chloë from her sleep. Unlike the activities of a few days earlier, she grinned and laughed knowing that this time is was the Shukurae on the outside, wanting in! She casually got dressed while her panicked attendants bumbled about. Chloë knocked on Heather’s door to no response. Somewhat concerned she entered to find the Highlander was fast asleep, oblivious to what was going on.

  “Wakey, wakey!” beamed Chloë.

  “Mrrrrrr.”

  Chloë laughed, “Awww, is the brave Highlander all tuckered out from dancing until midnight?”

  Heather fought to sit upright, “Well, if you eat as much as I do and you are as skinny as I am, you have to burn the calories somewhere.” A graceless yawn consumed her. “Sorry, what’s up?” Suddenly the ship buffeted violently again and Heather’s face lit up, “Oh! We have visitors!”

  Chloë laughed, “Come on, let me help you get dressed…”

  Heather rolled her eyes, “I’ve not needed help getting dressed in a long time…”

  “No, but me helping you get dressed annoys the locals.”

  Heather grinned, that was something she could get behind! “Well let’s get to it! We don’t want to keep our guests waiting!”

  The two were soon dressed and heading down the long halls of the ship. Poor, poor, Liz was too frightened to leave
the room so the pair made their own way and were delighted to find Raymond waiting for them by the lifts.

  “Shall we try to help these poor idiots out?” asked Raymond with a grin.

  Heather put on her best shocked look, “Don’t you mean, his grace?”

  “His grace, the idiot then!”

  “That will do!” beamed Chloë.

  They quickly made their way to the command deck and approached the bridge, only to find the guards unwilling to let the ladies enter.

  “Oh come, come! Tell his grace he has visitors!” mocked Chloë.

  “But, your Highness!”

  “But what? Open that door, now! Are you refusing a direct order?”

  “But… but! It is locked from within!”

  Chloë laughed, “Then stand aside!”

  Raymond quickly checked the door; as described, it was locked.

  Chloë turned to Heather with a smile, “Would you open the door please, dear?”

  Heather grinned at the would-be guards as she invoked a long Live Steel glaive in its comforting blue glow and cut a wide gaping hole in the ‘secure’ door.

  “Ladies Chloë and Heather Stratford,” announced Raymond comically as the two girls climbed through the hole. Only once inside and standing on the deck of the bridge did Heather dismiss her weapon.

  The bridge was deathly silent, the count and the ship’s captain stood mystified by the entrance and suddenly they both looked trapped: the Highlander on one side, while the ship comms system displayed the image of three very very grumpy looking Shukurae.

  Chloë immediately recognized one of them and waved, smiling pleasantly, “Good evening Watzkel! We’re glad you are doing better!”

  Watzkel bowed and grinned back, “Good evening lady Chloë. It is especially nice to see the three of you together again. Did Raymond…”

  “Raymond resigned his commission, but they knighted him anyway. I told him to keep it, it would be more fun that way,” grinned Chloë.

  Watzkel nodded, “And how are you doing, brave Highlander?”

  Heather yawned, “Sleepy! Spent all evening dancing!”

  Watzkel laughed mightily, “That is my lady Heather of course! Is there anything we can do for you?”

  “Well, now that you asked, we could use a lift,” replied Heather.

  The three Shukurae grinned in unison and Watzkel spoke again, “That is being arranged!”

  “Oh-my-word!” beamed Heather suddenly. “Toch, is that you?”

  The taller and older Shukurae, leathery skin turning white and gray with age smiled back fondly, “Yes indeed, little Heather, it is I. Now I have a question: who was responsible for the men who attacked the town?”

  “That would be Count Alfonso here,” replied Chloë.

  “He is now wanted for kidnapping and murder.”

  “Murder?” asked Chloë thoroughly shocked. “Kidnapping I expected…”

  “Three of the townspeople suffocated in the gas attack. It is either the charge of murder or war crimes. Whichever suits best is left to the courts, we are just here to collect him and then escort you home.”

  “Murder! That is an outrage!” blasted the count.

  “An outrage is the killing of three simple colonists as you gassed an area a kilometer across because you were too big of a coward to conduct your business yourself. We are not the ones filing the charge of murder. We are simply going to make sure you are held accountable for your crimes.”

  “Would you prefer trial by combat? Here, now?” asked Chloë.

  “You expect me to fight one of those hideous Shukurae?” barked the count.

  “No!” interjected Raymond. “You fight me!”

  “One of noble station has offered to be the champion for the court,” began Chloë formally but with a hint of frost in her breath. “Do you accept, or do you wish to be bound over for the crimes for which you stand accused?”

  “So that is why you let him accept the knighthood,” laughed Heather. “He is weak from the treachery the count has perpetrated; let me stand in for Sir Raymond,” beamed Heather with mock formality mixed with sinister glee.

  “You are my ward, Lady Heather, I would not stand for it,” replied Raymond dramatically.

  “Would you carry my favor?”

  “But of course!”

  Heather grinned and produced an elegant Live Steel longsword, worn, but well maintained, and handed it to Raymond who graciously accepted it.

  “Oh! I didn’t realize your father had given you that sword,” beamed Toch over the vid link. “It has seen service against these houses before…”

  “Father didn’t like the memories it brought up, so it was the first blade I learned,” chimed Heather with pride.

  “This sword killed two of my uncles,” began Raymond as he glared at the count. “But now, it is going to kill you!”

  The count’s eyes, already round from the entire proceedings, finally narrowed slightly and he managed faintly, “Who carried that sword?”

  “My father!” boasted Heather, “Llewellyn Silverglade of House Stratford, Baron of Threedales!”

  Chloë laughed out loud as she watched Count Alfonso collapsed unconscious to the floor, “Well, I guess trial by combat is out!”

  50

  Heather sat next to Chloë in the Great Hall, beside them stood Raymond with Heather’s sword on his hip. Behind them and to the sides stood Line Centurion Watzkel and a parade of her troops while huddled in the far corner were Chloë’s attendants. Landed and court barons as well as a host of knights stood, waiting, for some word…

  “Let me be perfectly clear,” began Chloë. “I trust the Shukurae more than I trust any of you. They are staying until I am safely home. Get used to it. If you can deal with that, then sit. If you have a problem with that, then leave this hall!”

  To their credit, they all sat.

  “Count Alfonso will not be handed over until my… situation with Prince Philip is resolved, so there is no reason to fear for his health or safety. His is under house arrest here. If arrangements can be made to set aside his charges, they will be made. That, however, may require abdication on Prince Philip’s part. After all, the count was operating on his authority…”

  That got a stir from the crowd but far less than Chloë expected.

  “I’m not in my majority, I understand that. I am also not the helpless doll many of you knew just a few short months ago. I have teeth and I have a long memory! There are many paths laid out before me, many options, many opportunities. I full well may be the one abdicating instead of Philip; things to be considered. But know this! Whatever my path, whatever my goal or direction, one thing will not change: I consider Heather my sister. And about that, I will not budge!” She cleared her throat and continued, “I am Chloë Stratford. Whether that is Chloë Stratford-Amsterval or just Stratford is immaterial, choose your words carefully when you address me! It is not just me you may be insulting, but a very powerful House of the Highlands of Afon as well!”

  “We are heading to Bervik VI. Once there and I have said my piece with Prince Philip, the Shukurae will depart and I will return control of this ship to the captain and whatever ranking noble still serves House Amsterval. My anger, my battle, lies with two people at this point, Prince Philip and Sir Reinhardt of the Beyscones. If things are resolved with Prince Philip, then I will set aside my bitter hatred for what Count Alfonso did to poor Heather for the sake of peace across the lands.”

  “If anyone here wishes to speak, offer advice, offer counsel, or stand against what I have said, I offer now the time to do so and to do so in peace. I will not hold anything said in this hall against anyone, so long as you speak it now and not later. Speak freely, I do not fear the truth.”

  A baron opened the floor with a question Chloë hadn’t expected, “And what of Sir Raymond’s station? We are to understand he is a suitor to Princess Heather.”

  Princess Heather! Chloë actually liked the sound of that and flashed the thoroughly emba
rrassed Highlander a warm smile, “Prince Philip knighted Sir Raymond and he is content to court my dear sister Heather from a minor station. He is also willing to set aside his peerage should that be the will of our First Mother or our father. Who among you would set aside your station for your love?”

  Chloë enjoyed the minor murmurs of the crowd but had to fight from laughing as poor Heather’s fur stood on end!

  The same baron spoke again, “Your Highness, Princess Chloë Stratford-Amsterval, I think I can safely speak for all of us when I say no one will so much as bat an eye if ill becomes of Sir Reinhardt of the Beyscones, much less speak in his defense.”

  Chloë grinned, that she had expected. No one wanted to see an outsider try and claw his way up the food chain. Whatever schemes Reinhardt had in motion were going to be hard pressed to work on this crowd. “I do appreciate that, your grace. What else would people say? Come, come! Speak up!”

  “You say you are not in your majority,” began the same baron, “but I must tactfully disagree with you. You are sixteen, yes. But you are obviously in your majority. Only an emancipated minor, one brought into their majority by the courts, is permitted to marry at your age. And we were all invited to your errant marriage. Thus, us all knowing full well that Prince Philip would never be party to such an egregious felony that is a marriage of a minor, it must be assumed that you are, in fact, emancipated, and thus in your majority. You are Crown Princess Stratford-Amsterval!”

  A barrage of hear-hears soon thunderously filled the hall and suddenly Chloë felt nervous.

  “Why such support?” she whispered to Raymond. “Are they just hoping to weaken the principality by playing Philip against me?”

  Raymond shook his head, “None of those here would directly benefit from a weakened principality. They may just be looking for favor when you do ascend. Hard to tell really, politics at this level is ridiculously complicated.”

  “Who in the world could sort this out?” she murmured.

  Heather leaned close with an age old answer, “When in doubt, ask Mom.”

 

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