by Vicky Savage
Clearly exhausted after her emotional address, Mother defers the remaining agenda items to the next meeting. She reminds the Council that I’ll be presiding at that time. Cracking the gavel, she declares the meeting adjourned. I gather my things and take Mother’s arm. Many Council members congratulate me on our way out. Others seem less than thrilled with my new appointment. Guess you can’t please ’em all.
I leave Mother resting comfortably in her room. The weight of the world has been lifted from my shoulders, temporarily at least. Now if only the hole in my heart could be mended, I might feel halfway human again.
TWENTY-FOUR
Back in my room, I pull the pins out of my hair and brush it out loose and free. Exchanging my jacket and skirt for a casual flaxen dress, I find a long multicolored scarf to tie around my waist like a sash. Tucking my new katana into the sash, I secure it with the sageo cord. This’ll probably get more than a couple of curious stares from the palace inhabitants, but Ralston and I will be outside the palace grounds today, and I feel better having my sword with me.
When I reach the courtyard, Ralston waits in an open-air carriage. No rain on Saturdays. We’ll be fine.
“I see you survived the meeting,” he says as I climb on board.
“Yes.” I beam at him. “Mother came and announced my appointment as her representative. She also took care of the issue of firearms in Domerica.”
“So I heard.” He clucks at the horses, and we begin the short trip to the blueberry barrens. Patrick falls in behind our carriage as we rumble through the palace gates.
The afternoon is pleasant, as always in Domerica, and we’re the only traffic on this stretch of road. Ralston pulls the carriage just off the roadway and extracts two pails from behind the seat. Patrick stations himself on the road, while Ralston and I tromp through a small field to the barrens. The bushes are heavy with small ripe berries.
“Be careful of the bees,” Ralston says. “They love blueberry blossoms.”
I pluck a tiny indigo orb from a bush and pop it into my mouth. “Mmm, tasty,” I say, sampling a few more.
“Yes, well don’t eat them all. We need something to show for our little excursion,” he scolds.
I yank a few berries from a bush and drop them in my pail. “Why are these so small? We usually get big fat berries at home.”
“These are lowbush blueberries,” Ralston says. “Highbush blueberries were not produced until 1911 when it was learned how to cultivate the plants. Unfortunately the scientist who discovered the process was never born in Domerica.”
“Geeze, Rals. How do you know so much about so many things?”
“I’m a student of the multiverse,” he says with a smile.
“Okay, so you already know that Mother came to the meeting this morning, what else did you hear?”
“Use this, my dear.” Ralston hands me his linen handkerchief and motions that I have blueberry juice in the corner of my mouth. “Word that the queen had appointed you her representative on the Council spread quickly.” Ralston dribbles berries in his pail as he talks. “I believe those at court, and possibly all of Domerica, are watching closely, attempting to gauge how great a role your Uncle Harold will play once you have fully assumed your mother’s duties as queen.”
“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, Duke Ferdinand asked me about that,” I say.
“He did? When was this?” Ralston pauses his berry plucking and focuses on me.
“The other night after dinner. He walked me to my room and asked my permission to return after I’m queen to discuss some fresh proposals Cupola de Vita has for constructing a new dome.”
“Well, that is encouraging.”
“Yeah, but then he said that when deciding what to do with Uncle Harold, I should keep in mind the adage that absolute power corrupts absolutely.”
“Goodness. Not a very subtle chap, is he?” Ralston gathers more berries and puts them in the pail.
I laugh. “I didn’t tell him Harold was going to be on the first bus back to Hempstead after my coronation. What Harold said about Oz being one heartbeat away from the crown bugs me. I’m wondering if I can change that. I mean, can I name my own heir? As long as it’s a woman who’s in the line of succession of the Royal family?”
Ralston looks thoughtful for a moment. He sets his nearly-full pail on the ground near his feet. “That’s an interesting question. I believe Domerican law allows you to do so. Osrielle is the heir presumptive. That would change if, for example, you were to have a daughter. Your daughter would become the heir apparent, and Osrielle would be bumped down the line.”
“But what if there were some reason Oz was disqualified to serve as queen, or just didn’t want to? Could I replace her with someone else?” I ask.
“Whom did you have in mind?”
“Lady Lorelei.”
A slow smile creeps across Ralston’s face. “That’s positively brilliant, Jade. It would remove all reason for Prince Harold to wish you harm. And Lorelei is ideally suited to take over as queen … should you decide not to stay, that is. I shall look into this further and make certain we are on solid ground here.” He takes my pail from me and begins filling it with berries.
“So what did Agent Chelmsford say about all this anyway?” I ask.
“I’m afraid he wasn’t much help. Come, let’s try over there.” He nods to a stand of bushes. “I believe I’ve about cleared these out.”
We take the pails a few yards to some nearby bushes. A small wooden bench sits in the shade of a mulberry tree. “Would you care to sit for a moment?” Ralston asks.
I gladly plunk down on the bench. Blueberry picking is a little hot and boring for my taste. I scoop up a handful of berries and munch while he talks.
“Agent Chelmsford informed me that things have not yet stabilized sufficiently since your reappearance for the prediction models to be consistent. He’s confident that in a few days’ time, once recalibrations are complete, a reliable path will be established. I must tell you, however, that Chelmsford strongly cautioned me that my role this time is to guide and advise you, only. I am strictly forbidden to divulge any information about the future derived from IUGA’s prediction models.”
This makes me sit up and pay attention. “What? Why? That’s not fair. I’m going to be making a decision here that will affect the rest of my life, and the lives of my family, and maybe other lives too. How am I supposed to do that without all the relevant information?”
“That’s precisely the point,” Ralston says. “You are supposed to be operating of your own free will this time. I’m not permitted to influence you in any direction. You will have all the information to which a normal person would have access when making a life decision. Though God knows this situation is far from normal.”
“Geeze Rals, that stinks. Things are still so twisted around here. My mom seems strong some days and nearly gone on others. Uncle Harold could either fade quietly into the sunset, or try to blow up the whole show. And I don’t know if Ryder is even speaking to me.”
“Excuse the cliché, but that’s life, my dear. You still have a few weeks before you must make your final decision. Perhaps things will be clearer by then.”
I’ve lost my appetite for berries, so I hold out my hand to him. “Want one?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No, thank you, they stain my teeth.”
I let them fall to the ground. “Okay, but what about that guy who’s stalking me. What if he’s trying to hurt me or something?”
“Well, of course we’ll do our best to protect you and gather all the relevant information we can in the coming days. I simply cannot divulge known future events before they happen. That’s all. IUGA will put me on inactive or worse. I’m already on a probation of sorts. By the way, I’ve sent word to the investigator I know in Warrington. We’re meeting tomorrow to discuss the troubling rumors regarding Prince Harold and the possibility that you are being followed. At a minimum, I can be of assistance in that way.”
> I put a hand on his arm. “Thanks Rals. I really need you.”
“I’m here for as long as you want me.” He smiles. “May I share your bench? I’d like to hear more about your meeting.”
“Sure.” I scoot over to one side, and Ralston sits while I fill him in on the rest of the Council meeting and Mother’s order that all the firearms confiscated from Unicoi be destroyed.
He rubs his chin thoughtfully. “I suppose that’s one way of keeping them out of the wrong hands, but should Domerica ever need them …”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s nothing, Jade. Have you thought about taking a tour of Unicoi Village?” he asks, changing the subject. “I believe you would do well to familiarize yourself with the current state of affairs there before the next Council meeting. Especially if it’s true that Prince Harold is proposing to construct a wall around the entire city.”
“I was kind of hoping to go there with Ryder. But that’s looking less and less likely. Will you go with me one day next week?”
“Of course. I’d be delighted to escort you.” Now, let’s finish up here, and take these to Cook. I believe she’ll be quite pleased with us. Maybe even make blueberry pie for dessert tonight.”
We finish filling our pails and head back to the carriage. After Patrick helps himself to a couple of handfuls of berries, we start back to the palace. The moment we clear the palace gates, I’m buffeted by a strong wave of emotion—like an ominous wind penetrating to my core.
I whip my head around. “Ryder’s here,” I tell Ralston.
“How do you know? Do you see his horse?” he asks.
“I feel him, Ralston. I know he’s inside.”
Ralston snaps the reins, and the horses pick up their pace. He drops me at the front steps. “Run along, my dear. I’ll see to the carriage.”
I race up the stairs. The huge front door swings open for me, and a uniformed butler bows. “Is Chief Blackthorn here?” I ask breathlessly.
“Yes ma’am. He’s meeting with Prince Harold.”
“Where?”
“I’m not certain, ma’am. Shall I locate them for you?”
“No. It’s all right.” I sense he’s nearby. Probably in one of the first floor meeting rooms. Dashing down the hallway, I quickly check each room as I go. Voices carry from behind a closed door near the end of the hall. It’s them. My pulse skyrockets, and my stomach instantly purees the blueberries I just ate.
Before I can knock, the door opens, and Ryder’s form fills up the frame. My breath catches in my throat. He’s handsomely dressed in a white shirt and a dark Domerican-style suit. His features are taut, his eyes a turbulent sea. Nodding toward me, he turns back to Uncle Harold. “Thank you for seeing me, sir. I hope you will reconsider postponing the project until all of the Unicoi are out of tents and living in homes.”
“Our vision for Unicoi Village will take time, my boy. Ask your people to be patient,” Uncle Harold says in a patronizing voice.
Ryder steps into the hallway. “It is difficult to counsel patience without tangible progress,” he says.
Uncle Harold glimpses me standing there. “Ah Jaden, you’ve returned. Chief Blackthorn was just asking for you.”
My heart swells with hope. “You were?” I ask Ryder.
“May I have a word?” he says, all business-like.
“Yes, of course.”
Uncle Harold checks his watch. “I have another meeting.” He bows. “By your leave,” he looks to me.
Huh? “Oh, yeah sure. Go ahead.” I forgot. He needs my permission.
“Would you like to come upstairs?” I ask Ryder.
“No. This will be fine.” He nods toward the room he just came out of. I follow him back inside and close the door.
“Please sit down,” I say picking up a weird vibe from him.
“If you don’t mind, I would rather stand, Your Highness. This will not require much of your time.”
“Ryder, please don’t call me that. I want to have a conversation with you. Can’t we just sit down and talk.”
He shakes his head. “I’m expected back in Unicoi Village. I wish to inform you that I have a meeting with your father at the Enclave tomorrow. I plan to ask him to release me from my obligations under our engagement contract.”
“What? Ryder, no! Why are you doing this?” My heart drops halfway to China.
“I feel it is for the best.” He avoids my eyes, focusing on a spot above my shoulder. “You have been unable to reconcile in your own heart the ways in which I have failed you. The indecision is harmful to us both. As a result, I must be the one to take a stand.” His empty eyes meet mine. “I release you from your commitments to me. You are free to pursue other, more suitable relationships. And I wish to be free to move on as well.”
“You what? You want to move on?” I don’t recognize my own reedy voice. A dark pit of panic threatens to swallow me up.
“I wish only the best for you, Your Highness.” He bows dropping his eyes, and sweeps from the room, leaving me a crumbling, destroyed candidate for life support.
TWENTY-FIVE
The room swims around me. Sinking into the nearest chair, I rest my head on the gleaming conference table. How did things go downhill so fast?
Events are careening out of my control. I should’ve known I couldn’t handle it all. It’s true I came back to Domerica to be with Ryder and my mother. But, also I believed I could make a difference here. My life in Connecticut seems small and insignificant when compared with the things I can do for Domerica, and possibly this world. Now, unexpectedly, I find myself the lynchpin in a dangerous game of political intrigue, while Mother’s time grows shorter with each passing day. And I’m acutely conscious of the fact that it all means nothing without Ryder, the love of my life. I’ve messed things up real good this time.
Closing my eyes, I press my cheek against the cool wood of the table. I’m bone-bending tired and unable to defy gravity any longer. My whole being groans for peace.
* * *
Maria’s voice travels to me as if through a long tunnel. “Princess, are you all right?” Her hand feels soft and warm on my forehead.
My eyes blink open. “Hi, Maria.” For a moment I forget where I am. The light in the meeting room has grown dim. I push myself up from the table, and sick recollection twists my gut. I’ve lost him. I hug myself against the pain.
“What has happened?” Maria asks in alarm. “I went to help you dress for dinner, and no one knew where you were. Are you unwell?”
That’s putting it mildly. “Yes. I’m unwell.”… empty, desolate, totally screwed-up. You name it. “Would you help me to my room, please?”
She takes my arm, and we make our way slowly up the back stairs, my stomach churning acid soup. “Shall I summon a doctor?” Maria asks when we reach my room.
“No. I’m all right. Just very tired.” She eases me down on top of my bed. “Tell Mother I’ve decided to skip dinner tonight. I plan to go to bed early.”
“Very well. Shall I have food sent up for you?”
“No. I’m not hungry. I just want to sleep.”
“As you wish.” When she reaches the door, she turns, concern creasing her forehead. “Is there anything I can do for you, Princess?”
“Yes. Please don’t let my mother worry about me. Tell her I’m fine.”
She nods. “I will take care of it.”
“Thanks.”
Okay Jaden, what now?
Standing, I rub my face with my hands, hoping to scrub the chaos from my mind. Shucking off my dress in a heap on the floor, I head for the shower. Maybe gallons of hot water will help. Some of my best ideas come while I’m standing under the shower. After thirty minutes my skin is pruned, and I’ve used up all the verbena bath gel, but nothing brilliant has come to me.
I wrap up in my bathrobe and run the brush through my hair. My options seem all knotted-up together like a hopeless tangle of fishing line. The easiest thing would be to go back to Conne
cticut, graduate from high school, start Yale in the fall, and forget all about this insane little side trip. But I can’t do that until I’ve said my final goodbyes to Mother, and made sure Uncle Harold isn’t going to run Domerica into the ground. Also, I promised Asher that I’d travel with him to meet the other Transcenders. I know I’ll regret it for a second time if I go home without doing that. The only thing I know for sure right now is that I can’t sit around and do nothing. I need a plan.
Ralston taps softly at my door. “Jaden?”
“It’s open,” I call.
