Ewa sat in the chair before the fireplace, low flames illuminating her nude body in the dark bed chamber. She had to be cold, James knew. Even there, her back had to be chilly. That couldn't be good for her, or their unborn baby. Or Marik, although the sleeping child had been carefully wrapped in his blanket when Ewa lifted him out of his crib. Tying on a thick robe, feet safely stuck in royally comfortable slippers, James grabbed a blanket from the bed.
James didn't know what to say to her. What he had already said had obviously been the wrong thing. She just stared into the fire, Marik cradled against her chest. Coming up behind her, James let out a sigh.
"You'll catch a cold." He placed the blanket over her shoulders, the blue covering falling down the back of the chair. Taking the ends, he wrapped them around her, careful not to cover Marik's head. Unsure what else to do, he moved his hands to her shoulders.
"I love you, Ewa. You know that."
She was silent. He cursed. She had known this day would come. Had talked about it. Accepted it, even as James had not. James had pushed the day of his royal wedding as far into the future as he could. He did not want those girls. He had who he wanted. He wasn't some harem gathering monster! He found his eyes staring into the fire, hands unconsciously massaging her through the blanket.
"I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault," she said, her voice distant. "It's him."
It was more than the Captain, naturally, but he didn't correct her. She wasn't blaming him. That was enough.
"Is there anyone you like?" he asked. She turned to look at him, surprise on her face. James smiled. "Someone you can be friends with is more important than most other traits."
She let out a snort.
"I don't know them. They have nothing to do with me."
Not that there had been much cause for the young ladies to be in the Palace. Hell, he had barely spent any time with them. With a sigh, he leaned down, kissing her upturned forehead.
"Do you have any suggestions?"
She looked back into the fire.
"A ball."
"Ball?"
"A Ball. A Royal Ball. You haven't had one since your coronation. Have Ola spread the word that you'll be picking a Queen, and dance with everyone. Praise the losers, then pluck out your new lover."
"YOU are my lover," James said, hoping she believed it. "This girl may become a friend, I may come to care for her, but you are my wife. Always."
Her eyes stayed on the fire. One of the coals popped, sending a spark out onto the hearth stones.
"So you say," she whispered.
****
"A ball?"
James could not help but chuckle at the Captain. Sleep had mellowed the man, but he obviously had not enjoyed much rest in the night. He stood in the King's office as one now unsure of reality. James looked between him and Ola.
"A Ball. A gathering of all that think they're important, and a few who actually are. I get a good look at my potential brides all at once, and when I'm not dancing with them they get to mingle with all the other single men of the Kingdom. Odds are almost all pair up within a week."
"A good idea," Ola remarked, stroking his smooth-shaven chin. "Social events have been few and far between."
"We should pair it with a festival for the rest of the people," James went on, "here and on the mainland. I wish we could combine them, let everyone mingle, get to know each other, but that's not practical."
"One last feast before winter," Captain Putaski said, nodding. "Before we go on serious rations."
"Yup. Give them something to look back on, and forward to."
"When?" Ola asked. James considered.
"Saturday. Five days should be enough time."
A young boy sprinted into the room, a message slate in his hand. Skidding to a stop on the polished hardwood floor, he bowed.
"Flag message, Your Grace!"
"Thank you." James took it, smiling. The pages had taken to having contests, seeing who could make the fastest round trip, deliver the most messages a day, et cetera. The room down the hall he had set aside for the boys (and now girls) had a chalkboard on one wall filled with complicated stats. James was tempted to give a prize to whoever was on top Saturday.
"What news?" The Captain asked. James gave it a quick scan. Then a longer one. He handed it over.
"They think they've located the last straggler."
"What?!" The soldier went over the message himself, eyes wide. James walked over to the map on the wall, finger tracing a line.
"They found no one on the other side of the Orlan. Everyone made it across, apparently. There are now some very rich ferrymen."
"THIS is worth celebrating!" The Captain straightened. "Your Grace, with your leave I should return to Fredrick. I'll send another ship up to that Frog village. We could have everyone safe within our walls before the week is out."
"Do it. If the Kikker villagers agree, though, I'd like to keep a garrison there."
"Yes, Your Grace."
Another bow, and he was gone, taking the page with him. James moved around his desk, collapsing into his chair.
"Thank God."
"Thank God, and the army," Ola agreed. James let out a chuckle.
"Let there be a small delay, at least, before the next crisis comes upon us."
"Yes. Now, Your Grace, if we could talk about the upcoming Ball..."
****
Shanna didn't like the looks she was getting.
It was long past the time where she was a strange looking outsider. Long past where her wearing male clothing, particularly pants, was shocking. They should have been well used to her. Thus, this was something different. Something new.
Something personal, perhaps.
Shanna walked down the market street with Anelie, shopping basket in hand. The day was cool, the noon sun doing little to provide relief. Nor was her light jacket doing much to keep her warm. She needed something for winter. Something thick, comfortable. There would be military issue winter clothing, naturally, but she didn't want to just wear that. She was more than just a soldier.
"Why are they staring?" Anelie asked, face scowling at a woman behind a vegetable stand. The scowl was more cute than not, defeating its purpose. The girl wore a tunic and trousers not too different than her own. Two cross dressing women, walking together through the market.
God, they must look like total lesbians to these people.
"I don't know. Let's ask." Shanna stopped, looking around as she adjusted her glasses. Women ran the stores, for the most part. Society here may have been sexist, but not in ways she had expected. If anything, the fact women owned retail businesses while men felled trees and built ships and homes out in the cold almost seemed to indicate men had the short end of the stick. Her eyes fell on a woman about her age, young daughter walking next to her holding a doll almost as large as she was. The black haired woman looked away, pretending to gaze into a shop window, hand pulling her daughter closer. Putting herself in cheerful, don't fuck with me mode, Shanna walked up beside her.
"Good day to you."
The woman turned, surprised. There was no fear there. Shanna advanced her estimate of her age a bit, putting her at around twenty, and thus only sixteen when the kid was popped out. Some of the mothers were damned young among these people.
"Good day, Lady."
"I assume there are some good rumors flying around today, after all that went on yesterday. Anything about me?"
"Rumors? About you?" The woman looked uncomfortable. Shanna nodded, smile firmly in place.
"I assume there are some, given the looks I'm getting. Must be good ones, too." Shanna saw Anelie glancing around. The four of them were the focus of attention on the street. "Come on, you can tell me."
The woman looked away.
"You brought the Elf Queen here."
Shanna blinked.
"Yes."
She waited for her to continue. The mother was silent. Realization hit Shanna. She found herself putting her hands on her hips, an unconscious imitation of her mother.
"Oh, come on! That's it? That's what has everyone upset? Jesus Christ almighty, that's stupid!"
"Is it?" The woman whirled, walking back the way she had come, yanking her daughter's hand when the girl didn't move fast enough.
Shanna watched them go, mouth half open.
"Of all the stupid, moronic..."
A hand touched hers.
"Ignore them, Lady Shanna." She turned to the redhead at her side. The girl kept her white hand on her brown one, thumb seeming to caress her skin. "You did what was right. The people don't always know best."
Which was true, for what it was worth, but she for one would not go too far down that path of reasoning. She shook her head, trying to clear it. The girl's caress was distracting her. She didn't even know if Anelie realized she was doing it. Shanna had the crazy desire to take the girl's hand, to hold it as they kept walking. There'd be nothing wrong about that, right? Girls held each other's hands all the time. It wouldn't be considered cheating on Piotr...
The thought of him brought her back to reality. She let out a chuckle.
"Come on," she said, moving her hand, breaking the intimate contact without acknowledging it. "Let's go."
"Yes, Lady Shanna."
****
There seemed to be more activity from the Palace. Shanna saw a flurry of riders going to and from, messengers, soldiers. Glancing up towards the royal residence, she did not see the flag flying which would indicate she was needed. Good. She didn't want to do anything today.
"Lady."
Anelie's hand touched her arm, the girl pointing. Down at the next intersection, she saw a wagon pass with large chalkboards. She couldn't help but laugh. That had been one of James' ideas, instead of wasting paper on public announcements. Obviously, something was up. Shifting the wicker basket in her hand, the few ripe fruit in it still not that heavy, she put her other hand on Anelie's shoulder.
"Let's go see what's up."
The smile on the girl's face almost made her blush.
****
A dance.
A royal dance.
Was James out of his mind? Quite possibly. She read the board again, the large white chalk letters neatly written on the black board behind the now locked in place glass pane. A royal ball to celebrate the arrival of their Polish brothers and sisters, let off a little steam before the coming of winter, and, by the way, the next Queen will be chosen that very night! That was quite a bit to pack into one event. Plus...
"Fuck. I'm going to need a dress."
She had not needed one for the Coronation, James wanting her to be among his honor guard. Now, though, it was different. She wanted to dress up. Something soft. Frilly. Revealing. After months of acting butch, she'd shock them by showing off the body all her training had created. Shanna could picture it, her walking into the ballroom, all the men turning, eyes wide, mouths agape, dicks springing up. Their women giving her looks that could kill.
Damn, she missed that kind of thing.
More people were gathering around the sign in the center of the circular plaza. Shanna stepped away, offering up her place to an older woman. There were no words of thanks. Unable to help herself, Shanna tapped the woman on the shoulder.
"You're welcome, Lady." She turned and walked away before seeing what reaction the woman had.
"A dance," Anelie muttered. Shanna nodded.
"A dance. Haven't gone to one since... well, since graduation. This one will be a bit different, most likely. Or maybe not. The music will be more polka-like, at least."
"I've never been to a dance."
Shanna looked at her, surprised.
"No? You weren't at the Coronation?"
"No, Lady Shanna," she said, shaking her head. "I was in the square outside, and danced, but I've never been to a ROYAL Ball! Nobody like me would ever be allowed into a place like that!"
Which was true. She was the daughter of simple city folk, sister to a common soldier. Nobody special. Except she WAS special, of course. Shanna felt her heart go out to the girl. She found her right hand taking the girl's left hand.
"Would you like to go?"
Anelie stopped in her tracks. She looked up at Shanna, eyes wide.
"Do you mean it?"
"Yes," Shanna said, confused. It's not like it was a big deal, allowing the girl to go. She felt Anelie squeeze her hand.
"Of course I'll go with you! Oh, God, Shanna, you've made me happier than I've ever been!"
Oh.
Fuck.
****
Catty sat on a wooden chair set in the dirt.
She hated dirt.
Soil, she liked. Ground which nourished and enriched the plants of the world. Soil was the source of life.
Dirt was sterile. Ugly.
As was the fort.
The parade ground, enclosed by the wall of posts, was a lifeless place. The earth was trampled, churned up, only a few hardy weeds making their homes there. That plant beds seemed to be set up for use once spring came did nothing to change this. Destroying life, then recreating a fraction of it did not do away with the evil of destroying it in the first place. Humans were so...
No. Not humans. People. Were Elves much different? Not much. Kikker? Watu? What each race destroyed, and what they kept, from nature differed, but all tried to reshape the world. All wanted nature to serve.
Which brought her back to the book.
She closed her eyes, shutting out the image of her four remaining soldiers exercising under the open sky. The book was not what she had expected. It was knowledge, yes. Power. But, of a kind almost impractical. Catty had known it was limited. Known, from what Mother could and could not do, but now saw magic was the least important of its contents. It was...
There was a commotion in the world beyond her closed eyes. With a sigh, she opened them. The wooden gates were opening, human guards motioning her friends away so they could not be seen through the entrance. A horse and rider burst in, a long red braid flying off behind the rider's head. It was the girl/boy, the female soldier who stood beside the brown Shanna. She leapt off her horse, running into the main building.
Catty closed her eyes again.
Humans.
****
"So, I've gone and fucked things up, thanks to you and your dance. Thanks, King."
James could not help but laugh as they walked through the empty beds of the Palace garden. The fact Shanna was having her own romantic crisis was almost a relief. He wasn't alone in his suffering.
"Do you want me to make sure Piotr can't go? That would solve the problem."
She let out a disgusted snort.
"No. That wouldn't solve anything. He'd hear about us dancing, and just get upset."
"Instead of seeing you dancing and getting upset."
"Gah. I have to talk to him. And Anelie. Sort of... go with both. Sort of. Except not."
"Sounds like a plan."
Shanna glared at him. James laughed again.
"At least you've already picked a husband, even if there are complications. I'm just a few steps away from just flipping a coin."
"Is it narrowed down to two?"
James stopped by the trunk of a large oak. He placed his hand on its bark.
"There are about five I'd consider, based on those one hour lunch dates. I haven't really met any of the girls from the refugees, apart from..." He thought. "Lusia, I think her name was. Her family is still housed in the Palace, although I haven't been there much. So, there's always the chance I'll see one of the newcomers and something will click."
"Remember, if it doesn't work out, you can just chop her head off."
"And have a ghost haunting the Palace? No thank you. I can do without that."
Something wet touched his nose. James looked up. Something wet hit his forehead.
"Snow."
"Wonderful."
"It's not that cold. I doubt anything will stick."
"Yeah, but I'm still not looking forward to winter here."
James shrugged.
"Maybe we can introduce them to hockey.”