The Rugged Edge

Chapter 30: When I'm Queen

A single sweet statement rings above,
once quiet and hidden in grey.
Yet words settle in nest like a dove's;
their sweet tones erupt like spring in May.
They seem to wipe my slow drying tears;
happiness they improve and preen.
They sound so dulcet to lonely ears:
when - oh when! - I'm queen.

. . . . .

When the Duke left for the inn in Vilia, I found myself sorry that he did. He seemed like such a pleasant person, and like all of the pleasant people I knew, he was against Collum's rule of oppression. After all I heard around me, I only wanted to be queen more and more. The kingdom needed repair.

After dinner, Geraint and I walked in the garden for a while. It was a cool night, despite the summer sun that had not yet set, and an agreeable breeze brushed our arms and cheeks.

"I feel like in the last year, I've learned so much," I said. "And most of it I wish I didn't know."

"I know what you mean," said Geraint. "Everything we learn is absolutely dismal."

We laughed softly.

How could we possibly laugh at that?

I remembered a time, not long ago at all, when I hadn't understood how Geraint and Quinnie could ever laugh. I almost wanted to laugh again to think that I still didn't know how it was done, though I had joined in it. Yet I somehow knew it had something to do with the hope in me. Though the prospect of the future seemed dismal, my hope only grew. Hope works very oddly, I thought, but it's good that it does. If it didn't, how could we separate it from any other fairytale wish? Hope is real; not fantastical. Where would we be if it wasn't?

"Vereniva is so beautiful," I said quietly.

"What will you do with it when you're queen?" asked Geraint.

I hadn't thought about that. "I suppose I'll keep it, of course. And visit it every summer. But I want to use it for something else, too. Something more than for myself."

What truly caught me in Geraint's words was the assurance: when you're queen. It wasn't a matter of if in Geraint's mind; it was a concrete truth. I would be queen.

This made me very happy, yet in an abstract way... it didn't. How could I want so desperately to be queen, but not want it? I wanted to fix the kingdom, and that's the only way I knew how. I'd been decided on the matter since I was eleven. Still, there was little hope in joy for myself. But I'd already made the resolution: to bring Rokenmeine back to what it once was, I would continue being lonely. That was my only option, anyway.

So why did it bother me so much?

. . .

The two weeks in Vereniva passed without many other occurrences, but they were the best two weeks I'd had in all my life. Everything was green and brilliant, but besides that, there were people around me that were happy.

Every day, we visited Corinne and Ebony in the kitchen. They talked and laughed, and Geraint and I would sometimes listen for hours at a time. Geraint always joked about it when we left. "Boy, do they talk!" But I could tell he enjoyed it, too.

Rosalie could always be found in the garden, weeding the flower plots or picking some flowers out when the garden became just a bit too abundant. She would put them in vases around the summer home, and they livened it up charmingly.

We even achieved a conversation with Nevaeh, who generally seemed hurried or even uptight. However, when we spoke to her and she spoke back, she was revealed to be a very pleasant woman who simply found life stressing.

Mauve was everywhere. In a single day, she could be found learning to bake a new treat in the kitchens, helping Rosalie weed the garden, and helping Nevaeh in dusting the rooms. She spent time with the horses, since Arlie welcomed her easily, and she went to Vilia to replenish flour and fill the storeroom. She was the one to milk the cow, churn the butter, and make the beds for the servants and guards. Somehow, she found time to look at the books in the library and inform us that she was teaching herself to read, although she never would read aloud to us. When she wasn't busy - which was shockingly often - she followed us around. And Mauve did all of this smiling heartily.

Vereniva couldn't be missed more. As we prepared to leave, the guards were obviously disappointed. Fabian, who had followed Collum around and served him silently, was somber at the thought of returning to Rokenfort. But he was, of course, ready to gloat to Eldon about what the other servant had missed. Arlie seemed to have enjoyed the trip immensely, and he as much as told us how little he wanted to leave.

Only Collum seemed contentedly prepared to return, although he showed this by putting on the most serious face and strutting about with his nose in the air. I wondered if he really wanted to leave, or if he just wanted to act like a king and do what he needed to, though I wasn't sure he understood what that was, considering.

Nevaeh seemed relieved that we were leaving, since it added such a burden to her day, but everyone else seemed quite miserable about it. Corinne and Ebony enjoyed having us to happily listen to their chatter, and Rosalie seemed to be pleased at the chance to decorate for someone. Mauve, though not outwardly gloomy, was clearly downcast as we prepared to leave. The one person we knew no one would miss was Collum.

So it was that we left for Rokenfort at nine o'clock on the fifteenth day at Vereniva. No one spoke as we mounted and left, saddened at the coming prospect of Rokenfort and its greyness.

. . .

What seemed a week later, although it was barely a day, we arrived at Rokenfort.

It loomed up, high and dark, a lonely silhouette against the sky. No noise escaped its walls and, as we entered the gate, no person came to greet us until Eldon opened the wide door and bowed.

"Welcome home, Your Majesty," he said, and the rest of the miniscule staff came up behind him.

It barely felt like home to me.

. . .

"Did anything in particular happen while I was gone?" I asked Bessy.

"No, Ise, dear," said Bessy. "Nothing significant. As quiet as a mouse around here. That Quinnie, though, she was always busy. She never said, 'I wish they'd return,' only 'I'll do this and that until they return, and help the time pass away.' Such a sweet girl! But how was Vereniva?"

"Oh, Bessy, it was magnificent," I said. "Marvelous; stunning. Maybe it was in comparison to what we know here, but it was in every way better. Even Collum couldn't bring me down, not there."

Bessy looked pleased, yet with a sad touch in her eye. "I hoped so. Is it really green?"

"Yes, Bessy," I said. "So green. The garden is dazzling, and in the evening there are hundreds of fireflies and crickets in the flowers! Oh, Bessy, the flowers! There are so many of them, and they're so bright. I brought some seeds back with me. I dearly hope that someday we can find a lovely place to plant them." I paused. Next I said what felt was a daring statement, although why should it be? "When I'm queen, I want you to come to Vereniva with me. It would make you so happy."

When I'm queen, I repeated in my mind. Geraint really was rubbing off on me.

"Ise, dear, I'm so happy you enjoyed it," Bessy said. "You'll have to tell me all about it."

So that's just what I did.