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Authors: Marcus LaGrone

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Chloë (22 page)

BOOK: Chloë
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48
    
 

 

 

A
mellow day merged into a peaceful evening and Heather quickly made a mockery of
all the other minor nobles.  Dance!  They wanted to put on a formal
dance!  Heather could
not
refuse!  Chloë laughed as she
remembered back to teaching Heather all the court dances she knew while they
were stuck in the cargo container, and now Heather was recalling and
embellishing on them
flawlessly! 
Heather’s dance came across as
perfection in motion and all the nobles soon found themselves wanting in skill
as the Highlander was showing them up.  There had been snarky comments on
the side, veiled of course, as many thought the boisterous Highlander was out
of her league amongst the nobles.  Those voices fell aside and became
apologetic as they clumsily tried to match her form and poise.  The only
blot on Heather’s performance on the dance floor was brave Raymond as he fought
to keep up with her.  He held his own against the others on the floor, but
it was going to take a lot more practice for him to reach Heather’s
level!   No longer a novelty for her skill on piano, Heather’s grace
of form and movement were widely envied.

Chloë
just laughed and enjoyed it all from the sidelines, basking in the complements
that were being leveled on her dear friend.  Old Tongue was the language
of the evening: it was what Heather spoke, and Chloë refused to answer in
anything that her friend couldn’t understand.  Many a tutor was being
cursed under their breath as the nobles fought for a level of sophistication
that they truly lacked.

“She
is a sight to behold, so graceful and polished,” began the countess.  “She
seems so rough, yet is capable of such beauty.”

Chloë
just beamed, “Rough or polished, she is a wonderful friend.”

“She
does take your friendship for granted, your Highness.  She seems to
completely forget her station when talking with you.  I’ve yet to hear one
honorific from her at all.”

“She
knows her station and she knows it well,” replied Chloë with a smirk.  “It
is my station that is in question, not hers.”

“But
your Highness!  You are
the
Princess Amsterval!  Heir to the
House!”

“Prince
Philip thinks me a broodmare, not heir to the House.”

The
countess fought for her composure, “Your Highness!  You shouldn’t say such
things!”

“What? 
Speak the truth, even if it is unpopular?  Someone has to…” snapped
Chloë.  “If you want to know Heather’s station, if you want to know
my
station: we consider ourselves sisters.  It is up to the rest of you to
figure out what that means…  Good evening your grace!”  Chloë turned,
leaving the countess on the sideline and briefly joined Heather on the floor
between dances.

“These
guys are out of practice,” grinned Heather.

“No,
no they are doing fine,” retorted Raymond.  “You are just fantastic!”

Chloë
beamed, “He’s right, of course!”  Her face shifted to a serious
tone.  “Can we talk, and do you think we are secure?”

“Pulled
two bugs off of you… one obvious, one not so obvious…” grinned Heather. 
“What’s the concern?”   

“I’m
perfectly willing to go to Bervik VI, heck, I want to!  But I want to on
my
terms,” murmured Chloë still nervous of being overheard.

“Well,
all my belongings made it up from the planet surface,” grinned Raymond.

“And?”
asked Chloë confused by the statement.

“Shukurae
emergency beacon and all,” he grinned.

Chloë’s
eyes went wide with giddy excitement, “Oh!  Well that should be fun then!”

“Yes,
yes indeed, your Highness, so let’s just enjoy the evening.”

Chloë’s
grin threatened to consume her face, “Let’s!”

49
    
 

 

 

The
ship shuddered violently, waking Chloë from her sleep.  Unlike the
activities of a few days earlier, she grinned and laughed knowing that this
time is was the Shukurae on the outside, wanting in!  She casually got
dressed while her panicked attendants bumbled about.  Chloë knocked on
Heather’s door to no response.  Somewhat concerned she entered to find the
Highlander was fast asleep, oblivious to what was going on.

“Wakey,
wakey!” beamed Chloë.

“Mrrrrrr.”

Chloë
laughed, “Awww, is the brave Highlander all tuckered out from dancing until
midnight?”

Heather
fought to sit upright, “Well, if you eat as much as I do and you are as skinny
as I am, you
have
to burn the calories somewhere.”  A graceless
yawn consumed her.  “Sorry, what’s up?”  Suddenly the ship buffeted
violently again and Heather’s face lit up, “Oh!  We have visitors!”

Chloë
laughed, “Come on, let me help you get dressed…”

Heather
rolled her eyes, “I’ve not needed help getting dressed in a
long
time…”

“No,
but me helping you get dressed annoys the locals.”

Heather
grinned, that was something she could get behind!  “Well let’s get to
it!  We don’t want to keep our guests waiting!”

The
two were soon dressed and heading down the long halls of the ship.  Poor,
poor, Liz was too frightened to leave the room so the pair made their own way
and were delighted to find Raymond waiting for them by the lifts.

“Shall
we try to help these poor idiots out?” asked Raymond with a grin.

Heather
put on her best shocked look, “Don’t you mean,
his grace
?”

“His
grace, the idiot then!”

“That
will do!” beamed Chloë.

They
quickly made their way to the command deck and approached the bridge, only to
find the guards unwilling to let the ladies enter.

“Oh
come, come!  Tell his grace he has visitors!” mocked Chloë.

“But,
your Highness!”

“But
what?  Open that door, now!  Are you refusing a direct order?”

“But…
but!  It is locked from within!”

Chloë
laughed, “Then stand aside!”

Raymond
quickly checked the door; as described, it was locked.

Chloë
turned to Heather with a smile, “Would you open the door please, dear?”

Heather
grinned at the would-be guards as she invoked a long Live Steel glaive in its
comforting blue glow and cut a wide gaping hole in the ‘secure’ door.

“Ladies
Chloë and Heather Stratford,” announced Raymond comically as the two girls
climbed through the hole.  Only once inside and standing on the deck of
the bridge did Heather dismiss her weapon.

The
bridge was deathly silent, the count and the ship’s captain stood mystified by
the entrance and suddenly they both looked trapped: the Highlander on one side,
while the ship comms system displayed the image of three very
very
grumpy
looking Shukurae.

Chloë
immediately recognized one of them and waved, smiling pleasantly, “Good evening
Watzkel!  We’re glad you are doing better!”

Watzkel
bowed and grinned back, “Good evening lady Chloë.  It is especially nice
to see the three of you together again.  Did Raymond…”

“Raymond
resigned his commission, but they knighted him anyway.  I told him to keep
it, it would be more fun that way,” grinned Chloë.

Watzkel
nodded, “And how are you doing, brave Highlander?”

Heather
yawned, “Sleepy!  Spent all evening dancing!”

Watzkel
laughed mightily, “That is my lady Heather of course!  Is there anything
we can do for you?”

“Well,
now that you asked, we could use a lift,” replied Heather.

The
three Shukurae grinned in unison and Watzkel spoke again, “That is being
arranged!”

“Oh-my-word!”
beamed Heather suddenly.  “Toch, is that you?”

The
taller and older Shukurae, leathery skin turning white and gray with age smiled
back fondly, “Yes indeed, little Heather, it is I.  Now I have a question:
who was responsible for the men who attacked the town?”

“That
would be Count Alfonso here,” replied Chloë.

“He
is now wanted for kidnapping and murder.”

“Murder?”
asked Chloë thoroughly shocked.  “Kidnapping I expected…”

“Three
of the townspeople suffocated in the gas attack.  It is either the charge
of murder or war crimes.  Whichever suits best is left to the courts, we
are just here to collect him and then escort you home.”

“Murder! 
That is an outrage!” blasted the count.

“An
outrage is the killing of three simple colonists as you gassed an area a
kilometer across because you were too big of a coward to conduct your business
yourself. 
We
are not the ones filing the charge of murder. 
We are simply going to make sure you are held accountable for your crimes.”

“Would
you prefer trial by combat?  Here, now?” asked Chloë.

“You
expect me to fight one of those hideous Shukurae?” barked the count.

“No!”
interjected Raymond.  “You fight me!”

“One
of noble station has offered to be the champion for the court,” began Chloë
formally but with a hint of frost in her breath.  “Do you accept, or do
you wish to be bound over for the crimes for which you stand accused?”

 “So
that
is why you let him accept the knighthood,” laughed Heather. 
“He is weak from the treachery the count has perpetrated; let me stand in for
Sir Raymond,” beamed Heather with mock formality mixed with sinister glee.

“You
are my ward, Lady Heather, I would not stand for it,” replied Raymond
dramatically.

“Would
you carry my favor?”

“But
of course!”

Heather
grinned and produced an elegant Live Steel longsword, worn, but well
maintained, and handed it to Raymond who graciously accepted it.

“Oh! 
I didn’t realize your father had given you
that
sword,” beamed Toch over
the vid link.  “It has seen service against these houses before…”

“Father
didn’t like the memories it brought up, so it was the first blade I learned,”
chimed Heather with pride.

“This
sword killed two of my uncles,” began Raymond as he glared at the count. 
“But now, it is going to kill
you!

The
count’s eyes, already round from the entire proceedings, finally narrowed
slightly and he managed faintly, “Who carried that sword?”

“My
father!
” boasted Heather, “
Llewellyn Silverglade of House Stratford,
Baron of Threedales!

Chloë
laughed out loud as she watched Count Alfonso collapsed unconscious to the
floor, “Well, I guess trial by combat is out!” 

50
    
 

 

 

Heather
sat next to Chloë in the Great Hall, beside them stood Raymond with Heather’s
sword on his hip.  Behind them and to the sides stood Line Centurion
Watzkel and a parade of her troops while huddled in the far corner were Chloë’s
attendants.  Landed and court barons as well as a host of knights stood,
waiting, for some word…

“Let
me be perfectly clear,” began Chloë.  “I trust the Shukurae more than I
trust any of you.  They are
staying
until I am safely home. 
Get used to it.  If you can deal with that, then sit.  If you have a
problem with that, then leave this hall!”

To
their credit, they all sat.

“Count
Alfonso will
not
be handed over until my…
situation
with Prince
Philip is resolved, so there is no reason to fear for his health or
safety.  His is under house arrest here.  If arrangements can be made
to set aside his charges, they will be made. 
That,
however, may
require abdication on Prince Philip’s part.  After all, the count was
operating on his authority…”

That
got a stir from the crowd but far less than Chloë expected.

“I’m
not in my majority, I understand that.  I am also not the helpless doll many
of you knew just a few short months ago.  I have teeth and I have a long
memory!  There are many paths laid out before me, many options, many
opportunities.  I full well may be the one abdicating instead of Philip;
things to be considered.  But know this!  Whatever my path, whatever
my goal or direction, one thing will not change: I consider Heather my
sister.  And about that, I will not budge!”  She cleared her throat
and continued, “I am Chloë Stratford.  Whether that is Chloë Stratford-Amsterval
or just Stratford is immaterial, choose your words carefully when you address
me!  It is not just me you may be insulting, but a very powerful House of
the Highlands of Afon as well!”

“We
are heading to Bervik VI.  Once there and I have said my piece with Prince
Philip, the Shukurae will depart and I will return control of this ship to the
captain and whatever ranking noble still serves House Amsterval.  My
anger, my battle, lies with two people at this point, Prince Philip and Sir
Reinhardt of the Beyscones.  If things are resolved with Prince Philip,
then I will set aside my bitter hatred for what Count Alfonso did to poor
Heather for the sake of peace across the lands.”

“If
anyone here wishes to speak, offer advice, offer counsel, or stand against what
I have said, I offer now the time to do so and to do so in peace.  I will
not hold anything said in this hall against anyone, so long as you speak it now
and not later.  Speak freely, I do not fear the truth.”

A
baron opened the floor with a question Chloë hadn’t expected, “And what of Sir
Raymond’s station?  We are to understand he is a suitor to Princess
Heather.”

Princess
Heather!
Chloë actually
liked the sound of that and flashed the thoroughly embarrassed Highlander a
warm smile, “Prince Philip knighted Sir Raymond and he is content to court my
dear sister Heather from a minor station.  He is also willing to set aside
his peerage should that be the will of our First Mother or our father. 
Who among you would set aside your station for your love?”

Chloë
enjoyed the minor murmurs of the crowd but had to fight from laughing as poor
Heather’s fur stood on end!

The
same baron spoke again,  “Your Highness, Princess Chloë
Stratford-Amsterval, I think I can safely speak for all of us when I say no one
will so much as bat an eye if ill becomes of Sir Reinhardt of the Beyscones,
much less speak in his defense.”

Chloë
grinned,
that
she had expected.  No one wanted to see an outsider
try and claw his way up the food chain.  Whatever schemes Reinhardt had in
motion were going to be hard pressed to work on this crowd.  “I do
appreciate that, your grace.  What else would people say?  Come,
come!  Speak up!”

“You
say you are not in your majority,” began the same baron, “but I must tactfully
disagree with you.  You are sixteen, yes.  But you are
obviously
in your majority.  Only an emancipated minor, one brought into their
majority by the courts, is permitted to marry at your age.  And we were
all invited to your errant marriage.  Thus, us all knowing full well that
Prince Philip would
never
be party to such an egregious felony that is a
marriage of a minor, it must be assumed that you are, in fact, emancipated, and
thus in your majority.  You
are
Crown Princess
Stratford-Amsterval!”

A
barrage of hear-hears soon thunderously filled the hall and suddenly Chloë felt
nervous. 

“Why
such support?” she whispered to Raymond.  “Are they just hoping to weaken
the principality by playing Philip against me?”

Raymond
shook his head, “None of those here would directly benefit from a weakened
principality.  They may just be looking for favor when you do
ascend.  Hard to tell really, politics at this level is ridiculously
complicated.”

“Who
in the world could sort this out?” she murmured.

Heather
leaned close with an age old answer, “When in doubt, ask Mom.”

Chloë
laughed at that; yes, her birth mother would be an excellent choice for help in
that regard.  Birth mother.  Chloë suddenly winced at that.  She
loved
her mother.  Loved her dearly but wanted to be with Ivy and
her family.  This was going to be complicated.  Very.  Chloë
worked to get her head back in the game as the cheers finally started to wind
down.

“Support
of me may not serve you well if it is
I
who abdicate, your grace,” Chloë
lectured.

 “Better
to support the honest and fair no matter the situation, your Highness. 
You have asserted yourself, things will never be the same.”

Heather
grinned as she leaned over to Chloë, “So, you ready to deal with this full
time, every day, day in, day out?  Fancy words, veiled threats, backroom
politics…”

“Bite
your tongue!” replied Chloë through gritted teeth.  Oh, this was all so
easy until the
politics
kicked in.  Yep, time for help from mom…
whichever one that happened to be…

BOOK: Chloë
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