Long Live the ..........? [ONC 2024]

Chapter Ten: Flight of the Dragon

The First day of September......

Roz and Arlon walked Saffron down the grand staircase towards the palace's main entrance. The young princess was now dressed in the purple and grey uniform of the Unarlion Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies. Outside was a large carriage, full of several excited young girls between the ages of seventeen and eleven. King Sylvanus's illegitimate daughters, also known as the bastards. They all inherited the golden curly hair of their mothers and the brown eyes of their father, giving the impression that they were grown in a lab.

The coachman groaned as the feisty young girls fought with each other for space, causing the coach to bounce up and down. Hockey sticks and lacrosse nets stuck out of the carriage windows like spears. Footman placed Saffron's initialled cases and trunk on top of the rest of the luggage and securely strapped them down.

"Are you sure you really want to go with them? They can be a bit of a handful, so I hear," said Roz.

Saffron winked and gave her a broad smile. "I can handle them."

"Farewell Princess Saffron, may you enjoy your time at school," said Arlon. And bowed low. He had stopped wearing the dreadful beige livery and a brown tweed suit now complimented his bright red waistcoat."

Saffron chuckled childishly. "Thank you, Arlon, I fully expect to."

After giving Roz a farewell hug. Saffron turned towards the loaded, noisy carriage. One girl from inside the carriage stuck her head out. "Come on, Saff, we're all waiting for you!"

Saffron almost ran up to the carriage, turning and giving Roz one last reassuring wink before opening the carriage door. "Oi budge up! I'm trying to get in!" she yelled, in a most unlady like fashion. Before launching herself into the carriage.

Arlon turned to Roz and raised both eyebrows. "Well, I was not expecting that." But Roz proudly smiled. She knew now that Saffron could handle herself. The Coachman gave the order and the two large brown horses trotted out of the courtyard with a stream of hands from within, waving goodbye. Roz stifled a tear as the carriage went through the gatehouse. She could not tell if any of the waving hands belonged to Saffron.

She looked about the empty courtyard and appraised the newly painted exterior. It was certainly an improvement from its previous beige incarnation. The palace was more of a soft yellow colour with a warm glow as the sunlight touched the walls. "A marked improvement, Your Grace?" asked Arlon. Roz nodded, and the two of them turned to enter the palace.

"Now we must deal with the other matter. I am unsure how the Privy Council will take the news," said Roz.

"Well, it is your right to appoint a regent to take care of things while you are away," replied Arlon.

In the entrance hall, they spied Lord Beregold and the Archbishop, coming to meet them. The Archbishop's face was as red as a beetroot. On seeing Roz, he marched up to her, demanding to know where the princess was, but Beregold stopped him. "I will handle this, Archbishop." But his gentle smile gave away some concern. "Your Grace, I must ask. Is it true Princess Saffron is going away to school with your..... other sisters?"

"Yes Lord Beregold, it was Saffron's wish to attend school with them and I had no objections. She left this morning."

The Archbishop looked as if he was going to burst. "You are supposed to consult the Privy Council on matters of State... Your Grace!"

"Where Saffron attends school is a private family matter. The Council did not need to be troubled," replied Roz serenely.

"Your Grace, you should have at least consulted the Privy Council. There are far better schools much closer to the kingdom than...." protested the Archbishop.

But Roz held up her hand. "Was it not you, Archbishop, who said that the Academy was the best in all the kingdoms and insisted my other sisters attend there? That it was a very pious school, attended by all the best families?"

The Archbishop erred and ummed, while Beregold stroked his beard. "I do believe, Archbishop, you were very enthusiastic for the Bas... I mean the king's other daughters to attend the academy."

The Archbishop adjusted his dog collar with a finger, beads of sweat now appearing on his forehead. "Yes... well... I suppose it is too late to bring her back now. But you need to consult with the Privy Council first before making any future decisions of this type."

Beregold nodded in agreement. "You really should have discussed this with us first." He squeezed Roz's hand and winked. "But I think it will do her good. A couple of my granddaughters are in their final year. They will eye on her," he whispered.

Roz and Arlon exchanged looks before she turned back towards the two councillors."Very well, gentleman, I wish to call an extraordinary meeting of the Privy Council. I have an important announcement to make."

A thin smile crept across the Archbishop's face. "Your Grace, has made a decision?"

"A decision of sorts, Archbishop," replied Roz. She wondered what his reaction was going to be when she informed the council of her plans. It had been a stroke of luck when Arlon had come to her with a response from Prince Symion, or rather, his personal secretary. The Prince was aware of his hereditary links to the Metican royal family and was happy to invite Roz to visit Lavar in the hope of establishing diplomatic ties, goodwill and friendship. This invitation, together with a rather intriguing portrait of the prince, was enough to convince Roz to accept.

Roz's news was met with stunned silence. Even the Archbishop was dumbstruck. Beregold finally broke the silence. "Your Grace, this is most irregular. Why not invite the Prince here, where we can all assess whether he will be a suitable husband."

"How can he be a suitable husband? The Lavarans use magic and magic is not to be trusted," said the Archbishop.

Roz raised an eyebrow at him. "Does that mean I am not to be trusted? My transformations are magical."

"I.... did not mean. Your Grace, your... condition, is inherited. It cannot be helped. And it is an aid in protecting the realm."

Roz rose slowly to her feet with teeth clenched. Her amber eyes were a flame and a couple of whiffs of smoke escaped her nose. "My....Condition?" It took everything within her not to disclose what she had heard that night in the maze. A sudden tug at her skirt distracted her. Roz looked down to see Arlon.

"Shall we continue, Your Grace?"

"Of course," she replied, and composed herself.

"Archbishop! I understand your concerns. But I have decided to accept the invitation and Arlon has already sent my reply. We have made all the arrangements. The Royal Coach and Queen's guard will be leaving first thing in the morning. My twenty-first birthday is only two weeks away, so time is of the essence."

The councillors murmured and grumbled about the folly of youth but eventually, they all agreed it was for the best. The Archbishop, however, remained silent. Beregold gave Roz one of his grandfatherly smiles. "I am sure, Your Grace will be successful in her diplomatic mission. I presume you would like me to take care of state affairs while you are away."

"Well, Lord Beregold, I have been thinking about that and I have decided that Arlon shall hold the reins for me whilst I am away." Arlon's smiling face peeped over the table. "He has been my right-hand man, I mean halfling. Long enough to know my own mind. I feel the Kingdom will be safe in his hands."

Beregold frowned. "Well, if you are sure. I thought he would be going with you. Especially as you have very little experience outside the realm."

"I have had very little experience outside this palace. However, I am bringing someone with me who does have a great deal of knowledge."

"And who would that be, Your Grace?"

"Cassien, from the university."

(w/c 1332)