ACT I: L'élève de la Déesse
Summer passed idyllically in Louelle as I studied magic under the tutelage of the goddess Merphomenee. To the world we were merely formal acquaintances with common interests, Renia Sundalicia and Summerlyn Katalina often being seen together in the city. In the public eye she observed protocol and propriety with immaculate rigor, always careful to address me as "Your Serene Highness," or "Princess Katalina." I remember writing an unusual number of letters that year to keep correspondence with Merphomenee and various other busy ladies of the court, not to mention my suitors and certain other men to whom I owed the duty of missives such as M. the brother of the king. The social obligations of a princess weighed upon me too; there were endless balls and receptions to attend in honor of this general, that visiting prince, the other dignitary, few of whom held my attention the way that Merphomenee commanded. With her striking appearance and sophisticated conversation she dominated the concern of many others besides myself, rarely failing to leave an impression on those with whom she held forth. I look upon that season fondly as one of tremendous activity. In the mind and in the social circles of Louelle, fertile seeds had been planted.
Whatever may have transpired between us later, Merphomenee showed me great kindness in those days. She never took advantage of me in private - though she occupied the body of Renia Sundalicia, a mortal vessel could not hope to contain more than a small portion of her true might, yet that portion alone lay beyond ordinary ken. She instructed me with great patience, carefully teaching me by experience rather than by rote, and she never raised her voice to me in the long hours that we labored in solitude. In this matter I must confess that I displayed no special aptitude for the arts of the arcane. Princess Summerlyn proved a student of ordinary ability and understanding, but I did learn and my progress by the end of summer satisfied us both.
Her very first demonstration began by immersing me in magic akin to the eagle who teaches its eaglets how to fly by pushing them out of its nest. That night under the moonlight on the terrace outside my bedroom she bid me permit her to rapture my spirit away; she would bring my soul into herself. I felt a great deal of trepidation at the thought, understanding that my speech and my actions would no longer be my own, yet I acceded to her request. Words fail to adequately convey my experience. The goddess plucked me away like a torrent of water overtaking a small brook; in an instant I felt power beyond all expression immersing me from head to feet, like an ocean straining against my heart. Louelle receded from me and I saw the world from the goddess' vantage. I perceived the castle on which I stood as merely a child's feeble mound of sand, certain that I need but turn my hand to scatter its stone to the winds. I loomed over a city akin to Louelle, so fragile and delicate between my feet, resting my knees on mountains as my head pierced the empyrean firmament. With eyes beyond mortal clarity I gazed into the homes of men in complete comprehension, all movements and speech by every mortal within my sight laid bare in a terrible instant of perception. Merphomenee took my spirit for a mere tick of the clock - and yet, when I became myself again in the next heartbeat, an eternity of the most profound existence had passed.
Had I felt less delirious at the touch of divinity, I might have caught the terrified expression on the brow of Renia Sundalicia in the moment ere Merphomenee claimed her as vessel again.
I had tasted a sip of a draught at once more profound, more intoxicating, more enriching than any viand of the vine. During that summer Merphomenee would teach me the ways of the wind by transforming me into a bird and flying with me at night, or submerge me in water as a fish, or clothe me in the skin of the wolf. I learned by living, the best of all teachers, and grew to understand the deep mysteries of magic having experienced them firsthand. She did not immerse me into her own divine magnificence again, which I oft regretted. "It is something I would not do willingly," Merphomenee explained, "for I must vacate the flesh of Lady Renia to do so, and it exacts a toll even upon me to claim a mortal vessel so far from my presence, across the chasm of the worlds." That was the first time the possibility opened to my mind that there might exist other realms and worlds beyond my own, as in the fantastical novels when a young man opens a book to find himself in the kingdom of the fairies.
Naturally I learned more about my divine teacher and her world. Merphomenee said that she stood of great stature, so monumental that her smallest finger would dwarf me, and that her head would tower over the tallest parapets of our royal castle. To illustrate since I could scarce conceive of how the world might look at that size, she shrank my bed down until I could hold it in the palm of my own hand. I understood then why she took great pains to explore the city thoroughly on foot, since at her true size she would be unable to enter any of our buildings and see for herself the sights within, hence the necessity for her to use a mortal vessel as her eyes and ears. Merphomenee said that she wished to visit a different building in Louelle every day. Her great proportions had disadvantages, of course: she could not ride a horse as I did, and it took time for her to acclimate to a body that she inhabited during which she had to learn how to dress herself, write letters, and bear the limitations of her flesh. She claimed to have hired a master to give her lessons on Theraverian dance as one of her first acts in Louelle.
Not all approved of Merphomenee's interest in my education. My own dear mother the queen remarked that it was all well for a princess to learn ciphering and finances for she must manage the expenses of the household, but unladylike pursuits such as politics or natural philosophy would only fill my head with dreadful absurdities such as peasant emancipation and distract me from the far more important feminine graces of hostessing a party or bestowing my coquettish charms upon men. "Some kingdoms do permit a daughter to rule in her own right, Summerlyn dear, but we Theraverians are civilized people!" she would exclaim in scandalized horror. On the whole however, it must be adjudged that more of the court expressed approval than the contrary of my studies, though the wisdom of employing a foreign tutor was questioned. Sir Merrimont once warned me to be on guard lest Renia harbor a secret agenda, "not knowing the inner significance of her deeds from the outer" in his words.
In the lateness of the harvest season, when the fields had been gleaned and the verdant leaves of the trees turned to autumnal reds, the first word stirred that the Brabantine armies were mustering again. Merchants newly arrived to Louelle from the south spoke of horses being herded, muskets being issued, conscription notices and military requisitions. Ominous tidings in the diplomatic sphere soon confirmed that the steadily heightening tensions between Brabant in the south and the Allemagnian principalities to the west might escalate to war. The king entertained the ambassador from Brabant and the ambassadors from the nearest Allemagnian demesnes unusually well that month. He also spoke with Merphomenee in the guise of Lady Renia, who urged him to proceed without delay with the construction of the grand magical gate and the tremendous expenditure of arcane power necessary to open a way for her. "Warfare shall be no more than an unpleasant memory of the past once the goddess sets foot in Your Majesty's city," the emissary promised him. "Her power suffices to enforce peace over the entire world, and I pledge in her name that she shall guarantee the throne to your descendants. Therefore strive to throw wide the gate that she may pass."
The next day I requested Sir Merrimont escort me and my ladies-in-waiting to the field where the city's workers labored to build the magical gate for Merphomenee. A broad cistern of ground had been laboriously excavated near the shore of the Carbannes opposite the city walls where the river bent in a great curve towards Louelle. Kings past had kept this part of the shore free from development that flowers might grow unimpeded in great quantity outside of the city and Merphomenee had chosen this ground as her summoning site when she first arrived in Louelle. Now the earth surrounding the circular man-made pit had been paved over with marble supported underneath by a strong foundation of stone, the great chasm itself in the midst of being lined similarly with quarried stone. It was not unusual for visitors from the city to view the labor being expended on this project as they traveled by and my little coterie with its handsome escort joined the small crowd watching the men at work.
"This well is two hundred paces athwart and perfectly round, and perhaps three hundred paces deep," Sir Merrimont informed us. Tall and fair, with fine aristocratic features and a beautiful face, son of a wealthy family lauded for largesse, Merrimont Lachaveur epitomized the fine manners and polished appearance of the ideal Theraverian gentleman. Women competed fiercely for his attention and he was considered wanting solely for a noble title, the lack of which rendered him ineligible only in the eyes of the most exclusive of ladies. Men sawed beams of timber, carved blocks of stone, and carefully moved heavy rocks along scaffolds built into the sides of the cisterns to line the interior with caulk and mortar. "This process is a delicate one," Merrimont continued. "When the stonemasons and carpenters have finished setting the foundation, the artificers must incise each block with runes of aetherial minerals to expedite the flow of magical aether. Then the entire well must be filled with purified water and covered until the time is ripe for summoning, to be determined by the court astrologers and oracles. The Minister of Conjury estimates that performing magic on this scale will require no less than forty-eight conjurers working in unison over the course of several hours, to say nothing of the attendant requirements involved in any great undertaking."
"Surely the expense must be prodigious, sir," one of the ladies-in-waiting commented. Merrimont looked at her, upon which she blushed and hid her mouth behind her fan.
"Six hundred thousand thalers have been spent already," the knight confirmed, prompting murmurs from my coterie, "and that is merely for the work completed thus far."
I frowned at this information. The Brabantine Wars had drained the crown treasury of funds, and though the recent peace had seen the return of surplus from trade and tariffs, surely it could not account for the sums being lavished. The extra taxes levied on luxury goods during the wars had been repealed when the treaty was signed. Was the crown financing this operation with loans from banks then? Like all noble daughters, I had grown up on horror stories of princes rendered landless, homeless, even wifeless through crippling debt and ending their lives forgotten as drunken paupers. Certainly there were no new mines with untapped nodes which had opened in the past year and the coinage struck by the royal mint retained its usual composition of metals. I silently thanked Merphomenee for introducing John James Calloway's treatise "Wealth and Bullion" to me several weeks ago.
Merphomenee had mentioned that she inspected the work done on the summoning well at least once per sennight, using Renia to issue instructions or make corrections whenever the work required adjustment. Calculating the details in my head, I arrived at an estimate of three to four million thalers of expenditure needed to finish this project - nearly half the indemnity owed to Brabant from our treaty and certainly more than the crown treasury amassed in a year. And yet this project had been planned almost from the moment that Lady Renia first appeared in Louelle with its ambitious scope kept concealed from no one - father had not treated it as a state secret and Merphomenee seemed quite willing to discuss it with anyone who asked, including her fellow ambassadors. Then I considered the benefits that the goddess had promised would attend her arrival - lasting peace, secure harvests, protection of flocks and herds, eradication of pestilence, leisure to build monuments wondrous beyond compare - and sensibly decided that four million thalers did not seem so great a burden anymore.
I would be remiss and untruthful if I did not mention that part of myself secretly hoped to be rid of my wearisome suitors, a thought both undutiful and unfilial in a princess. To be loved so much by my royal parents and to harbor such base desires of ingratitude, ah pourquoi mon coeur doit-il m'attrister ainsi? I confess to dreaming that I might be courted by a handsome young prince similar in age to myself who would always strive to please me, and might not my friendship with the goddess free me of these burdensome suitors? Reader of mine, pray indulge the sophomoric fancies of a young girl but a while longer.
My ladies-in-waiting speculated upon the nature of the goddess and stole covert glances at Sir Merrimont when they fancied him unaware, and I smiled knowingly at both. When they had seen their fill the women returned with me to the palace where I found, as usual, various social invitations awaiting my response. My mother's invitation to attend a late night opera at the Odeum de Chapplette on the Rue des Cerises necessarily took precedence. To while away the time, I asked Professor Julian Desmont to attend me in one of the palace audience rooms and lecture me and my coterie on the history of Brabant for two hours as I played the ivories.
That evening I accompanied my mother the queen to the Rue des Cerises, escorted by Sir Merrimont and a quartet of hussars. I wore an ankle-length, modestly-cut evening gown of deep azure, tied by a high waist sash of emerald silk which I felt flattered my figure and helped contrast my golden hair. My ladies-in-waiting had also chosen emerald studs for my ears. Since I traveled with mother, I was further obliged to wear my imperial tiara on my brow, an elegant circlet of finely woven gold and orichalcum with diamonds artistically sprinkled throughout. In a truly mischievous twist of fashion my attendants applied but little blush to my cheeks, gleefully - and truthfully - observing that having Sir Merrimont as my escort would inflame my countenance enough. Certainly my fingers seemed to burn even through my long velvet gloves when he bowed to kiss my hand.
The Rue des Cerises is so named for the cherry trees planted singly along both sides of the street in regular spaces. In the springtime they blossom with beautiful pink flowers; as a consequence many shops, cafes, and stores on the street adopted the cherry flower or cherry fruit as their emblems. Lampposts illuminated the street at regular intervals during the night. It was wide enough to accommodate several lanes of coaches and lined with shops and storefronts as well as apartments several stories high; mother and I rode past the apartment complex where the world-famous Georges Comiteau lived and currently labored over his sixth orchestral symphony. Most edifices were built tightly packed together with scant room between the various buildings and they usually rose no higher than eighty or ninety paces in height. The odeum proved the rare exception to this rule, visible from quite the distance and rising proudly above its neighbors in a great semicircular landmark with a roof painted gold so that it gleamed during the daytime. Dark red curtains hung within to cover all of its walls; this theater could seat up to four thousand individuals. It had a stage set in the center of the semicircle with a depressed orchestral pit behind the stage - from there, the audience seats steadily rose in height in stepwise concentric semicircles radiating outwards, terminating at the highest booths which were often reserved for the nobility.
We encountered Merphomenee at the entrance to the Odeum de Chapplette, her presence striking and distinctive even in the pressing crowd. She wore a single shouldered, sleeveless white stola woven of Anglican wool with the hems and neckline dyed currant purple, no doubt a pressing garment for any seamstress of Louelle to fashion. This was the Illyrican style favored by women which Merphomenee had brought over from her own domain. Protocol dictated that Lady Renia could not be seated in the royal booth with us during the opera itself, but the queen extended an invitation for her to dine with us during the intermission. Ah reader, permit me to explain that in Louelle it is customary for a meal to be served with a stage play or an opera. Such viands are included in the cost of the ticket and may be quite elaborate; that night we four dined at a small round table within the confined booth, Sir Merrimont having also been included as a friend of the family. Anxious to please the queen and her retinue, the chef of the house prepared roasted pheasant, chestnut brioche, a sweet fruit tart topped with grapes and oranges, Worster cheese, crepe soufflé for dessert, and a priceless bottle of Brabantine champagne said to have belonged to King Laudamais himself. No doubt we gave monsieur the chef ample cause to repent of his generosity as regards the latter - neither my mother nor I being inebriants, Merphomenee declining more than a cursory sip as well - with the result that Sir Merrimont apportioned it with his brother cavalrymen instead.
The queen began by inquiring what Mademoiselle Sundalicia thought of the opera, to which Merphomenee replied very correctly and graciously that she greatly enjoyed imbibing of Theraverian culture. "In my land there are plays and theatrical shows, Your Majesty, but none like the opera. The goddess inspires our playwrights in Illyrica. Even more inspiring, I find, are the heights to which the arts have reached in Theraveria, without a goddess to move the hearts of men."
"Your goddess involves herself in the theater?" Queen Heloise asked with a hint of surprise.
"Oh yes," Merphomenee chuckled, "she fancies herself one of the muses. She would be most pleased to see the performance tonight for herself." She shared a knowing smile with me and I nearly giggled aloud.
Since I had to feign unfamiliarity with the goddess - which, I assure you, is no easier a role to play than any on the stage - I chimed in with questions of my own. Forgive me mother that I deceived you so! "Is this your first night at the opera, Lady Sundalicia?"
"Hardly, Your Highness. Though my duties occupy much of my attention, I do so enjoy the theater when I can find the time to attend - even if tickets are not always easy to procure."
"Oh, you should have said so! I shall write the director of L'auditorium Populaire on your behalf and see to it that a seat is always made available for you."
"Your Highness is exceedingly kind, but how dare I impose upon your generosity so?" She smiled so sincerely that I wanted to pen a screed right there.
"Please, it would be but a trifling token of my regard for a woman foremost in my esteem, one who has greatly expanded the horizons of my mind," I tried to insist. Merrimont paused with a fork in hand to glance curiously back and forth between myself and Renia.
"Yes, just what have you been reading of late?" Queen Heloise asked me. "Ever since Ambassador Sundalicia arrived in Louelle, I see you with your head buried often in forbidding tomes. I do wish you would join me more often on rides in the countryside, and I miss the way you play the piano. Do tell me, Ambassador Sundalicia, it is common for women of Illyrica to pursue political and intellectual interests?"
"Why no, not common by any means. We simply adhere to the goddess' notion that - the frailty of her mind and flesh notwithstanding - a woman is capable of being the intellectual equal to a man if she will but submit herself to the requisite discipline. For it is true of men and women alike that the mind and the body must be shaped and molded by the rigor of education ere they are fit to partake in great matters. And why should a woman be considered unfit for such a burden any more than a man? Surely Your Majesty is aware of Queen Isadore-Constance?" Isadore-Constance was the wife of King Laudamais for much of his reign over Brabant. Merphomenee delicately cut a slice of fruit cake for herself.
Mother peered at Merphomenee from behind her rimmed spectacles. "The lady of Roussilion and queen of Greater Brabant? I am, lady ambassador. Isadore-Constance was rumored to be the greatest beauty of the age. Her descendants today occupy the thrones of Mondaise, Sarbia, and Vourraine - possibly Les Murs de Montarazzo in a few years, if the King of Arazzo dies without issue." That last bit made me arch my eyebrows as I had not considered the possibility. Succession claims are all too confusing even to a princess raised from birth to be cognizant of them.
"I must confess to Your Majesty that I was not aware her issue still numbered among the royalty," Merphomenee said, plainly taken aback.
"Then what did mademoiselle mean?"
"I am given to understand that Laudamais was the souverain exceptionnel of his age," Merphomenee explained. "He codified the laws of Brabant, reorganized her armies, expanded trade and banking, established schools and promoted agriculture. Under his command, the armies of Brabant fought five wars against nearly the entirety of the continent, almost doubling the size of the Brabantine Empire and reducing dozens of principalities to client states. Brabantine culture spread over the continent; today it is the language of nobility and diplomacy alike. Yet in the end Laudamais was defeated in the field and forced to abdicate, spending the rest of his life as a captive writing poetry from Gruenfeld Castle. Why did a man of such talent and capacity for work fail, does my distinguished company think?"
All three of us looked at Merrimont, who had spoken very little thus far. The rules of decorum held that the individual of most junior station should speak first for an open opinion solicitation, which meant that Merphomenee expected Merrimont to reply, then myself, and lastly the queen. He placed his spoon down on the table. "Proximately, his army was simply too weak after the victory at Hautelaire to resist a prolonged invasion and siege. Of course the war had been lost before then with the sheer weight of numbers against him. Two decades of nearly continual warfare must have wearied Brabant gravely whilst her enemies often rested for years at a time. But I am merely a soldier and ignorant as to the lofty thoughts of royalty, so I pray mesdames excuse me from speaking further."
Now the order of conversation devolved to me. "I agree with Sir Merrimont. Brabant by then was exhausted and bankrupt, her people destitute and clamoring for an end to endless hostilities. It is also well-known that King Laudamais was undermined by traitors and pacifists in his own administration once his fortunes began to turn, so fickle are the loyalties of men. Extraordinary sums spent on the army and the navy placed the government of Brabant deeply into debt and its currency had suffered much debasement by the end. Though Laudamais reformed the laws and the courts of the lands he conquered, one by one they turned against him too as the demands for tribute imposed by his wars grew ever heavier. Certainly he was a very capable and successful general in the field, but his many victories destroyed him as inevitably as defeat would have done. ... Of course, for such extraordinary accomplishments as his it is necessary to qualify what failure means, as many of his laws and institutions remain with us even today. Though surely your reasoning runs deeper than this, Lady Sundalicia?" I knew Merphomenee well enough by now to realize that she had an important argument to make.
"Your Highness is quite perceptive. What does Her Majesty think?"
"Oh, well ... one can hardly expect conquered nations to remain content under a tyrant's rule, nor a single country to stand against six," mother remarked rather blithely, a poignant reminder to me of how little she discussed politics with father at the evening table. "What does this have to do with Queen Isadore-Constance?"
"I would think a great deal," Merphomenee responded. "While Laudamais fought his wars and embarked upon his great labors, Isadore-Constance amused herself with bland dalliances and decorating the estates he gave her. Her annual allowance amounted to eight hundred thousand thalers, an outrageous sum, and still she managed to leave over five million thalers of debt by the time Laudamais abdicated. While Brabant was ascendant, she spent prodigal quantities of money on luxuries ill-affordable; and when Brabant's fortunes turned, she proved quite unequal to the occasion, preferring to host parties and throw lavish banquets than to heed the sufferings of an increasingly desperate people. Begging pardon of Your Majesties, I must be permitted to say Laudamais might well have been happier without such a wife." She leaned in closer now, her eyes seized with a fervent glow. "Consider if King Laudamais instead had a prudent and frugal queen to whom he could entrust affairs while away on his frequent campaigns, one who kept him well-apprised of domestic events and protected him against sedition. Would Brabant have been forced to return to her pre-war borders then?"
"Oh, you speak as though the woman single-handedly ruined his kingdom, as women are wont to do in the stories," the queen observed. "But she re-married after his death and produced heirs who rule kingdoms, while none of King Laudamais' descendants by his many consorts reign today. What good did Laudamais' efforts do in the end?"
Merphomenee frowned ever so slightly at this comment while my mother helped herself to a milk chocolate truffle which she pronounced to be of most excellent flavor. She must have sensed that the queen did not wish to expend her thought on such lofty matters however, since she instead looked at me. "I must thank you for opening my mind to many possibilities I have not considered, Lady Sundalicia, and I envy the women of Illyrica who live under the auspices of so gracious as a goddess as Merphomenee," I said, to which she and I shared a secret smile. "Still, this is hardly the appropriate time for such a topic. Perhaps after the opera when we are more at leisure? What does the gentleman think?" I asked Merrimont.
"Any gentleman finds it intolerable to contradict three fine ladies as yourselves," came the bland reply, which of course shirked the question entirely. After a pause, Merrimont added, "But I too would be interested in discussing this view further, if Madame ambassador is willing to indulge me."
I noted with interest that Merphomenee's cheeks flushed slightly as he addressed her. Even a goddess was not insensible to his beauty then. Upon this slightly discordant note we finished our repast and talked of the opera. The queen politely invited the ambassador to stay in our booth for the remainder of the opera and the ambassador equally politely declined on modest grounds of being unworthy of such an honor. The final two acts lasted another hour, during which I saw the goddess steal a few surreptitious glances at handsome Merry and myself. After the opera we were invited backstage to meet the actors and the stagehands so that it was quite late at night by the time we finally excused ourselves to return to the palace.
"Summer," my mother asked me during the ride in the stagecoach, "considering the many books she gives you, has Mademoiselle Sundalicia been ...?"
"Speaking often with me of politics and the affairs of the world? She certainly has," I admitted. "Do you disapprove, mother?"
"Disapprove is too strong a word, Summer my dear. One should certainly be open to new experiences ... and yet I would not see you lose sight of the matters most important to a princess, namely to marry well and produce an heir for your husband."
"We've had this talk before, mother," I sighed. "Cannot my suitors be more agreeable men?"
"You do not know them well enough to say," she responded. I wanted to retort that I knew well enough to dislike what I heard, but I held my tongue. The queen continued, "Summerlyn, I did not know your father either when I arrived in Theraveria as a young and truthfully rather frightened bride. For two years, despite our best efforts, I could not conceive a child. I thought surely there must be some fault in me. And yet Marchand never spoke a single word of blame to me in public or in private, and after I bore you and Charlemont he has become even kinder to me, if that were at all possible. Summer dear, you are of an age when you must very soon marry a prince, but you know that your place in his royal court will not be secure until you have produced an heir - more than one, if you are to be safe - for a princess who marries into a family is of course a foreigner, a dangerous one at that, until she has given her husband a crown prince. Otherwise she has no recourse but to win the affections of king and people by courtly intrigues, such mischievous discord being sown in her fear that she might be superseded by another woman. Please, listen to your poor old mother, who has only your best interests in her heart. Read your books if you will, have your lofty discussions with the foremost minds of the age, but never forget what is important! It is enough for any queen's ambition to raise a son, as I have done for Theraveria. What you do afterwards, let it be done in the secure knowledge that you have fulfilled your duty."
Even when I have not agreed with her ideas, Mother's concern for my well-being has always been affecting to me and I nodded slowly. "I will remember what Your Majesty has said," I promised. In truth, she had the right of it to some degree - I was a confused girl, still grasping to understand what I myself believed and too easily swayed by the first alluring thought to present itself. "How has Lady Sundalicia comported herself in your eyes?"
"That woman," Queen Heloise sighed, "should have been born a man. She dresses in skirts and corsets and carries herself as a lady, but she has the heart of a king. We seldom speak now, certainly far less than we did when she first arrived in Theraveria. Does my conversation bore her?" She fell silent for a long moment to reflect on her thoughts. "Summerlyn, I have always believed that no woman should be trusted who is still unwed at the age of twenty-two. Indulgence must be shown to a foreigner of outlandish ideas ... but Mademoiselle Sundalecia is twenty-eight."
Merphomenee confirmed this for me when she appeared in my bedroom after hours to teach me the art of magic. "I believe Her Majesty finds my company wearisome, and if you will pardon my blunt honesty, I grow frustrated that I cannot speak of lofty ideals or abstract matters with the queen. She cannot be faulted for that, for she is a practical woman, and the blame rather rests with me. Queen Heloise has fulfilled the ambitions of her life. Why should anyone ask more of her than that? What is your life's desire, Summerlyn?" To this I confessed that I no longer knew. Under my mother's upbringing I had imagined that I should be content entirely to have children and marry well so long as I encountered the right man, but Merphomenee's influence upon me had challenged my ideas of what I could be and learn. I did not know if I agreed more with my mother or with the goddess now. She listened sympathetically and we talked for an hour about my life rather than proceeding with the lesson. "I hope you find your own identity, Summerlyn," she told me a moment before she departed. "No one else can do that for you, not even a goddess."
A momentous event occurred ten days later. My ladies-in-waiting gossiped incessantly as I awoke and prepared for breakfast: Sir Merrimont and a captain of the Adelweiss ambassadorial guard had fought a pistol duel at dawn. Like chattering hens, these ostensibly dignified ladies of impeccable breeding and immaculate manners spilled words unreservedly, each one more animated than the last lest she miss her chance to divulge a particularly salacious detail. "- And then the seconds measured off each man at thirty paces, and oh, and oh, Sir Merry and Captain Habernitz saluted each other," one countess exclaimed breathlessly.
"Well don't just stop there!" another woman cried, this one a marquise. "Was he hurt?!"
"The judge gave the signal by dropping his handkerchief -"
"- and Captain Habernitz discharged his pistol immediately!" a lady cried, interrupting her friend. "Oh, but blessed day, Captain Merrimont was unhurt! The observers say the hair by his ear was singed by the bullet! So brave, so wonderfully brave! He did not even flinch from the shot!"
"The king will be angry!" That much was unquestionable, dueling had been banned in Theraveria for decades.
"How can you keep us ignorant any longer? Did he shoot the captain in turn?"
"Dear me, no! Sir Merrimont declined to fire, saying that he had been summoned to give satisfaction, and satisfaction having been rendered, he would be no means shoot! And then the seconds made them embrace and declare before the witnesses that any slight, real or perceived, had been redressed." At this I exhaled the breath that I had not realized I was holding, gripped by trepidation and anticipation both.
"What a man, to delope his shot in such fashion!" They would have all theatrically swooned if they did not vigorously fan themselves.
I raised this matter with my father and mother during breakfast, my younger brother being absent on maneuvers with the army. Father confirmed that the rumors were true. "And where is the boy now?" mother asked him.
"Warrants have been issued for the detainment and questioning of both men and their seconds," King Marchand stated matter-of-factly. In his mid-fifties, my father the king had taken to wearing his military uniform gleaming with medals ever since the news of Brabantine mobilization. He sported a full chestnut beard which made him seem highly dignified, but he was a short man; I stood several fingertips over him easily. His eyes were solemn and grave, rarely given to mirth, but warm and considerate among intimates. When I was a little child, the king always saved time out of his busy schedule to come talk with me before bedtime and read stories to me; it was an exceedingly disappointed Summerlyn indeed who had to be tucked beneath the covers by her governess if the king and queen were too occupied to do so. My capacity for hard work doubtlessly came from him, for he also labored diligently and expected likewise of his children. He had also taught me how to play chess, although he preferred to match wits with my brother since I have always been a horrid chess player.
"Why did they duel?" I wanted to know. "I cannot imagine Sir Merrimont giving offense to anyone."
The king sighed glumly, gazing at a forked sausage as though it were the source of all his current troubles. "It all has to do with Brabantine aggression. Yesterday, the ambassador from Brabant requested his passports and he will close his account in the Royal Bank of Louelle today." I blanched at this news, knowing that it entailed the first step to a formal severance in diplomatic relations between two countries. Father continued, "The possibility of war between Brabant and the Allemagnian principalities grows with each passing day. I know that talk of warfare is wearisome to women; suffice it to say that your handsome friend named the Allemagnes cowards and poltroons if they would not fight the Brabantines, at which Captain Adolphus Habernitz of the Adelweiss delegation retorted that no people attempting to hide behind the petticoats of a foreign goddess should speak thus and challenged Captain Merrimont to a duel."
"Merry said that?" I exclaimed aghast. "What madness has seized upon him?"
"I could not believe it myself," my mother the queen stated.
"Of course, we did not discover this mischief ere bullets had been exchanged, otherwise it would have been forbidden under the law," King Marchand told us. He looked wearily into my face, as if searching for answers, but he paused for long moments as he absently nibbled on an egg. "Summerlyn, child," he asked me at last, "you are an educated girl and I hear Ambassador Sundalicia is grooming you to be a philosopher. Normally such a matter would be handled by the city prefect, but the duel is already the talk of the town and from what I hear all parties acquitted themselves right honorably. What should I do? I've no desire to imprison an officer who served ably in the last war, not when hostilities with Brabant draw nearer every day, but I cannot do nothing either since we have offended the delegation from Adelweiss. We are short of willing allies as we are, short of money to hire mercenaries to fill our ranks ... whether we wish it or not, if this goddess Merphomenee cannot save us, Theraveria may cease to exist and be absorbed into Brabant. You know Sir Merrimont better than your mother or I, so how do you counsel me?"
"Has the Adelweiss embassy filed a formal grievance?" I asked. To be truthful, I did not know what to say. Advice is the most dangerous of gifts, given freely by misers but hoarded by the wise - who had said that? I must have read that aphorism in a book of late. "I understand Sir Merry well enough to know that he will accept whichever punishment Your Majesty gives without a word of complaint." We debated back and forth for several minutes without reaching a satisfactory solution, although I did feel proud of myself for seeing the nuances of the diplomatic situation now. The old Summerlyn would not have thought about the consequences of her actions so deeply. We at last decided it would be more prudent to sound out the Adelweiss delegation first in a discreet manner, which meant that either mother or myself would pay a social call to the ambassador's wife for an afternoon of tea and gossip. I wrote an invitation letter immediately after breakfast.
Rather than boring you with the details of the encounter, reader of mine, suffice it to say that the diplomat's wife reassured me on all counts: that the embassy took no offense, that the matter was considered settled upon the field of honor, that our diplomatic relations had not suffered in the least. For this I felt immensely grateful. I would only discover how deeply Merrimont's stratagem ran and the true significance of his duel much later, which you too shall learn in time.
Unable to permit him to flout the law entirely sans conséquence, father placed him under arrest and brought him to the palace though more as a guest than as a prisoner. Merphomenee and I amused ourselves watching how the other girls blushed and tittered about him like maidens at their first dance. He took advantage of his enforced confinement to study military strategy in the royal archives; I took similar advantage of his confinement to request that he lecture me for two hours every week on battles of historical import. This, of course, was merely a pretext for me to savor his company.
In hindsight his presence at the palace must be considered extraordinarily good fortune when the Brabantines abducted me several weeks after their emissary had departed from Louelle.