by Vicky Savage
“Yes. Harold mentioned that to me. Is there a problem?”
“Only that he intends to arm them with guns and rifles,” I say.
She hasn’t touched a bite of food, and now she pushes away her tray. “That cannot be. We have long-standing laws against bearing firearms in Domerica.”
“I know Mother, but I’m told Uncle Harold has managed to have the laws changed.”
She draws in a slow breath and turns to LeGare. “Is this true? Were you aware of this, Charles?”
“Yes. I was,” he says with lowered eyes.
“And why did you not inform me? Surely you must know that I would object to such a move.”
“I did not inform you for two reasons, Ellie. First, I did not wish to upset you.” He glowers at me. “Second, I happen to agree with Prince Harold on this issue. We are in a delicate position with Dome Noir. They have suspended trade with us over the Prince Damien incident, and there is harsh talk coming from their representatives about the possible consequences if we do not agree to their proposal for a new dome. Bluntly put, if we are forced into a war, both Dome Noir and Cupola de Vita will be armed with guns and more. We must be in a position to defend ourselves with equal power.”
Mother’s posture straightens, her voice becomes strong. “And once firearms are introduced into our society, we shall become as violent and lawless as Dome Noir and Cupola de Vita. The reason they wish to erect a new dome is because they cannot control the crime in their own cities. The solution is not this ‘prison dome’ they propose to build. The solution is to take the weapons away from the criminals and to better enforce their own laws. They would do well to take a lesson from us on that front—not the other way around. I am disappointed in you, Charles.”
LeGare looks like a scolded puppy. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I know your position on this matter, and I should have kept you better informed. Please accept my apology.”
“You are forgiven,” she says. “But how are we to rectify this?”
LeGare seems at a loss for an answer.
“Mother, maybe I can help,” I say. “Now that I’m home, I can take on more responsibilities within the government. It will all fall to me one day anyway. I might as well start doing a few things now.”
“What are you proposing?” she asks.
“That you appoint me your representative on the Council. I could conduct the meetings and consult with you on major issues. Then, if you trust me to speak for you, I could cast your vote. It doesn’t appear anything has taken place that can’t be undone, and I would like to better familiarize myself with the current issues facing Domerica.”
She studies me for a moment. “Of course. I should have arranged this immediately upon your return. I thought you might welcome Harold’s assumption of some of my more onerous duties after your recent ordeal and what with planning your wedding. But the position is rightfully yours. You should be presiding over the meetings. It shall be done,” she says. “The papers will be drawn up tonight appointing you my interim representative.”
She reaches for LeGare’s hand. “Charles, will you support us in this? Will you pledge your loyalty to Jaden?”
“Of course, Your Majesty.” He kisses her hand tenderly and raises his eyes to mine. They blaze with conviction. “I pledge my loyalty to Princess Jaden,” he says. “It will be as if she were you.”
Mother smiles at him affectionately. “Thank you, Charles. Now, let us not allow this delicious food to go to waste.” She pulls her tray closer and begins to eat.
The remainder of the meal passes pleasantly. Mother actually eats more than I do, mainly because I feel like I’ve just bitten off more than I can chew. Not only is my relationship with Ryder in shambles, but if Uncle Harold didn’t despise me before, I’m about to seal the deal by taking over as Mother’s representative on the Council, meaning I’ll have veto power over everything he does.
TWENTY-THREE
The princess’s selection of nightclothes consists of a dozen, identical long-sleeved, white cotton, ankle-length gowns. I pull one over my head and crawl into bed. Closing my eyes, I wonder for the umpteenth time if I did the right thing coming back to Domerica. If I’d stayed in Connecticut, Ryder and Erica would be blissfully having meaningless sex together, and Uncle Harold would be the de facto “king” of Domerica. Both of those thoughts make me cringe.
I know I can still go back if I want to, but I can’t leave without attempting to patch things up with Ryder, and without making sure Uncle Harold doesn’t take Domerica in the wrong direction. Under my mother’s rule, the country has flourished and is currently the most productive, prosperous, and peaceful dome nation on this earth. I won’t let Uncle Harold destroy all she’s worked for, but I’m too tired to figure it out tonight, so I fluff up my feather pillows and try to sleep.
I’m running through a hostile jungle fleeing something unknown. Tree branches painfully lash my face. Vines coil around my ankles pulling me to the ground.
I awaken with a start. My bruised cheek throbs, my heart races, and my sweat-soaked nightgown is twisted around my body practically choking me. Throwing off the covers, I climb out of bed and yank off the old-fashioned nightgown, dropping it to the floor. How do people sleep in those things?
I find a silky little underdress in the princess’s closet and slip it on. Aah. This is more like it. The soft fabric caresses my skin. I’m still too keyed-up to go back to bed, so I open my balcony doors and step outside. The air is cool and purifying. The palace grounds are beautifully lit up at night.
“Do you miss seeing the moon and stars?” asks a voice from the darkness at the other end of my balcony.
My heart tries to climb out through my throat. “Asher! You nearly scared me to death. What are you doing here?”
Stepping from the shadows, he smiles his lazy smile. He wears a loose white linen shirt and jeans. His hair tumbles appealing across his forehead. “I couldn’t sleep. I was worried about you. I checked the TPD and saw you were moving around, so I came to check on you.” He takes my hand in his. “I thought maybe we could not sleep together.”
“Cute.” I smirk at him.
“Glad to see you’re wearing your bracelet.” His fingertips brush across the shooting stars.
“I took your admonition seriously.”
“Good.” He lightly pushes a strand of damp hair away from my neck. The touch of his hand sends a ripple of pleasure through me. “Why is your hair wet?” he asks.
“I had a nightmare. Woke up in a cold sweat. I don’t know. Things are just very confusing right now.”
“Can I do anything to make you feel better?” He pulls me close.
His body gives off a tremendous amount of heat, and I hungrily breathe in his enticing scent. I’m acutely aware that only two thin layers of cloth separate my body from his. A tantalizing flash of him tangled in my sheets flickers through my mind and tempts me to take him inside right now. But I resist the urge. It wouldn’t be right. I know what I want, and it’s not Asher.
Stepping away from him, I say, “You’d better go, Ash. You’re a temptation I don’t need right now. I love Ryder. I’m not sure how to explain this, but he stirs up things inside of me—passionate things, powerful yearnings. I think some of those feelings may have spilled over onto you. Does that make any sense?”
He stares out at the moonless night for a moment, then turns to me. “Oh yeah. I get it. You’d be kissing me, but thinking of him.”
“’Fraid so.”
He shoves his hands in his pockets. “When you put it that way, it doesn’t really sound so appealing. I guess there’s no competing with a perpetual contract, but you can’t blame a guy for trying.”
I rest my hand lightly on his shoulder. “I could really use your friendship right now.”
“You’ll always have that. I don’t want to add to your stress level though, so I’ll just wait for you to contact me. Don’t forget, you still need to meet with the other Transcenders. It’s important, Jade.
”
“I know. I promise I won’t forget. Thanks, Ash.”
“’Night, Beckett.” He fades back into the shadows and vanishes.
Okay, one confusing thing checked off my list. Feeling a bit lighter, I fall back into bed and hope for a little more sleep. I need to be clear-headed for the Council meeting in the morning.
* * *
Waking before dawn, I order a large pot of coffee instead of tea. My state of mind can be summed up in two words: abject terror. I’ve never been great at public speaking, and now I have to stand up in front of a group of men and women, most of whom are more than twice my age, and inform them I’m taking over the reins of their country. What am I, crazy?
I throw open my door and search the deserted hallway. A uniformed butler instantly appears. “May I help you, ma’am?” he asks with a bow.
“Yes,” I croak. “Find Professor Ralston. Wake him up if you have to. Tell him I need to see him, like now.”
While I’m waiting for Ralston, a messenger arrives with the signed papers appointing me Mother’s representative. I leaf through the multiple-page document. The words blur together, and panic swells inside me as the minutes tick by. Finally, there’s a knock at my door, and I fling it open to find Ralston standing there in navy satin pajamas, a purple paisley robe, and brown leather slippers. He’s such a fashion plate, even at six a.m.
“What is the emergency, my dear?” he says groggily.
Grabbing his arm, I pull him inside, and close the door. “Rals, I can’t do it. I need to go back to Connecticut right now.”
“I see,” he says, strolling over to the tray on my dining table. “Is this coffee?”
“Yes, it’s coffee. Did you hear me?”
“I heard you. What seems to be the problem?” He takes a mug from my cupboard and pours himself some of the piping hot liquid.
“The problem is Mother sent over a ten-page document giving me all this power. Me, a stupid high school girl from Madison. I don’t have a clue what I’m supposed to be doing, Rals. These people will see right through me. I’ll never pull it off.”
“Shall we sit?” Ralston ambles to the armchairs in front of the fake fireplace, Mother’s document in one hand, his steaming mug in the other. He situates himself comfortably in one of the chairs, and I plop my butt down in the other.
“First, you are not stupid, Jaden. At least Yale thought enough of you to offer you admission to their fine university. Second, you need do nothing at the meeting today, unless you wish to. This document says you are there acting as the queen’s representative. If you do not wish to express an opinion, you may respectfully inform the Council that you will take matters under advisement pending a discussion with your mother. It’s quite simple really.”
This calms me a little. “But I’m supposed to conduct the meeting. How do I do that?”
“There will be an agenda. Just follow the agenda, and call for discussion of the matters in the order listed. Normally a time limit is placed on discussion. In these meetings I believe it is five minutes per member. But a timekeeper is present who will police this for you. So you see, nothing to worry about.” He sips his coffee and smiles at me over his mug.
“Will you come with me, Rals?”
“No. I’m not allowed. Only Council members, a timekeeper, and a clerk for recording the Council’s actions may be present during meetings. But honestly, Jaden, you won’t need me.”
“You’re sure there’s not more to it than that?”
“There are a few small formalities,” he says. “Why don’t we order some breakfast, and I’ll walk you through it while we eat?”
By the time we’ve finished our cinnamon scones and cheese omelets, I feel much better about my ability to conduct the proceedings. Ralston and I rehearsed bringing the meeting to order, calling for discussion, adjourning, and a few other things.
“Perhaps we could meet after lunch,” Ralston suggests. “I hear the blueberry barrens outside the palace grounds are at their peak. Why don’t we pick blueberries this afternoon? We can speak privately about what transpires at the meeting as well as go over what Agent Chelmsford and I discussed yesterday.”
“That’d be nice, Rals. There’s one thing I want to tell you, though. It seems I’m being followed. Some guy rode up to the stables after I took Gabriel a pommera. I swear I saw him hanging around outside of Bartlett’s yesterday.”
“Goodness. I wonder if he’s friend or foe.”
“No idea. But could you check with the guards about who came through the gates right after us yesterday? Maybe somebody knows him, or maybe they got his name.”
“Certainly.”
“And we need to hire someone to look into the rumors about Uncle Harold, unless Chelmsford told you something useful about that. I don’t trust the job to anyone at the palace, and it sounds like the local law enforcement in Warrington Village isn’t getting anywhere. An independent party would be best.”
“Chelmsford was no help in that regard, but I shall take care of it. There is a man in town I would trust with this matter. He’s very good and most discrete. Do not trouble yourself, my dear.”
“Thanks Rals. You’re a lifesaver.”
Maria leans her head around the door. “It’s time to dress for your meeting, Princess.”
Ralston takes his cue and gets up to leave. He bows formally to me since another person is present, but he smiles and winks before turning for the door.
The princess doesn’t own a business suit, so I settle for a plain jacket, skirt, and sensible shoes. Maria pulls my hair back into a tight bun, and my reflection in the mirror reminds me of old Miss Montague, my AP English Lit teacher. All in all, it’s a much better look than freaked-out teenager—which is what I resembled thirty minutes ago.
Gathering up Mother’s document and a writing pad, I march downstairs to the meeting room. Some Council members are already present. I peek in the doorway. Uncle Harold stands at the dais, swinging the gavel between his thumb and forefinger, waiting to bring the meeting to order. Crap! How do I break it to him that he’s no longer in charge because I’m taking over? Things could get a little ugly. The Cirque du Soleil begins a mini-performance in my stomach, and all my nerve leaks out through my shoes. I consider making a quick getaway, when someone behind me gloms onto my elbow and propels me through the door.
“Good morning, darling,” Mother says.
“Mother! What are you doing here? You should be in bed.”
“I’m much better this morning.” She smiles weakly. “I feel it my duty to announce your designation as my representative to the Council, and allow Harold to gracefully turn over the mantle to you. I believe the transition will go more smoothly if I am presiding.” Her voice becomes a whisper. “I also wish to personally express my views on the issue of firearms in Domerica.”
We walk together to the dais. Harold is visibly shocked to see Mother and doubly shocked to see me here. The room instantly grows silent, and everyone rises in the presence of the queen. Harold bows and extends the gavel to her. “Your Majesty. How wonderful of you to join us,” he says.
“Thank you Harold. I have a few additions to the agenda this morning,” she says, addressing the group. “Please be seated.” Turning to me, she smiles wanly. “Jaden, I believe I will be seated also. Is the chair next to yours available?”
The man sitting next to me scrambles from his seat, and I help Mother to the newly-vacated chair. Harold sits at the end of the table fidgeting with his pinky ring. Mother begins the meeting by thanking Uncle Harold for his wonderful contributions to the Council over the last several months. His expression grows tense as the meaning of my presence begins to dawn on him, and his normally pale skin glows neon pink. When Mother announces my appointment as her representative, applause erupts from the Council members. Jacob Bartlett, smiling and clapping, catches my eye and nods his approval. Harold avoids all eye-contact, choosing to focus on his ring, twisting it back and forth.
The next i
tem Mother adds to the agenda is the issue of the cavalry possessing firearms. The subject sparks a spirited debate among the Council members, with persuasive arguments bandied about on both sides of the issue. Mother allows each member his or her say on the matter, with the timekeeper enforcing strict limits. Uncle Harold declines to comment either way. When a vote is taken, the Council is equally divided on the issue.
All eyes focus on Mother. For outward appearances, the Council works democratically, with each member having a voice and a vote. The reality is that Domerica is pretty much a dictatorship—Mother’s is the only vote that counts. She stands and delivers an eloquent speech expressing succinctly all the reasons firearms will not be permitted in Domerica. She proclaims invalid the new law granting the cavalry the right to bear firearms, and takes the additional step of ordering that all firearms which were confiscated from the Unicoi be destroyed within the week. The queen has spoken, and in Domerica, her word is law.
