Of Swans and Ravens 🏳️‍🌈 (wlw) [ON HIATUS]

1: The Spring Ball

"Margot!" came that deep honeyed voice from beyond the wall separating the glasshouse from the kitchen gardens. Margot's heart skipped. Kari had arrived, probably back from the market in Due Ponti with her barrow full of flowers and fruit.

Margot willed herself not to rush; she finished watering the pumpkins, guiding their sticky tendrils up canes and across pots with her fingers. It would soon be warm enough to put the other seedlings outside to harden in the cool spring nights. 

Margot slotted the glasshouse key into its rusty home in the centre of the mechanism mounted on the door, and began to wind. A soft click, and she retrieved the key, gazing up at the topmost panes of the glasshouse which stood open to the spring breeze. The panes wobbled almost imperceptibly; the slow unwinding of the great mechanism's spring had begun, setting the windows on their hours-long ratcheting pathway towards being closed by dusk. The familiar muted tick-tocking of the glasshouse mechanism quietened in Margot's ears as she hurried towards the kitchen, an empty watering can under her arm.

Kari greeted her as she closed the gate, sticking a freckled cheek out for Margot to peck. "It was so busy in Due Ponti this morning," she huffed. "Soldiers everywhere, lounging around and taking up space!"

Soldiers. Margot's mind began to ratchet like an engine. "But there's been no news about military manoeuvres in Aquila," she mused, completely forgetting Kari's request for a kiss, instead leaning into the barrow to peer at the new fruits. "So why are more troops going to the Aquilan border?"

It was now customary for travelling traders and merchants to expect such questions from anxious villagers hoping for news about the recent military posturing between Leonia and Aquila. Whispers of an army being mustered in the neighbouring empire of Aquila were filtering into the villages that punctuated the coastlines of the great lakes of Leonia. The decades-long uneasy truce between the two nations seemed to be crumbling away. Border skirmishes would be inevitable.

Kari hefted the weight of the barrow between muscular arms, trundling it along the path to the kitchen, Margot trailing behind her.

"Did the Empress make a statement of intent?" asked Margot as they came to a stop at the kitchen door, her brow creasing as political moves and countermoves played in her mind.

"Hurry up and give me a kiss, Margot," Kari implored. "I haven't seen you for a week." She reeled Margot towards her by a sharp tug on her apron strings. Margot went easily, winding soil-dusted arms around Kari's neck.

"Is that you, Karolina?" came a shrill voice from the other side of the kitchen door. Margot and Kari sprung apart, coming to rest on either side of the door with their hands behind their backs just as Bertha the cook opened it.

"Finally! Here girls, bring those fruits inside quick, and do you have any flowers, Karolina? The mistress is asking for new ones for the parlour and dining room."

Bertha dragged a sack of apricots onto the doorstep with difficulty. Margot hurried to grab one end and the two of them waddled it into the kitchen.

"What is the old hag moaning about this time?" asked Kari, idly lifting an armful of big pink buds sitting atop thick stems off the barrow and dropping them onto a nearby chopping block.

"Shh! She'll hear you and box your ears," laughed Bertha. "She's flustered because they're leaving for the ball in an hour and Miss Adelaide isn't even ready. The whole house is upside-down because of it. You'd better stay down here Margot or else she'll find a reason to scold you," warned Bertha before disappearing into the scullery with an armful of blooms.

With another impatient huff, Kari wrapped a sun-browned hand around Margot's wrist and dragged her out onto the brick path between freshly-seeded beds.