Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are the creative property of Emily Rodda.
Sharn leaned back against her chair and closed her eyes, curling her slender fingers around the teacup in her hands. Her dark hair, which normally flowed down her back gracefully, had been pinned into a neat bun on her head. The Dining Room in which she sat was thankfully void of people, seeing as it was well past the luncheon hour, and a tranquil quiet had set itself upon the aging woman. She hummed softly to herself in contentment as she took another sip of tea and contemplated whether she should take another palm-sized cake from the tray of pastries in front of her.
Times such as this in which she could relax and enjoy herself in peace were rare, and she took them as they came without complaint. Traffic volumes in the Palace had been particularly high lately, with many nobles and citizens alike visiting to question her son, the reigning King Lief. Indeed, Lief's announcement of his intention to wed at the last Full Moon Meeting was met with much skepticism, especially after the populace had caught word of his choice in bride. However, the boy had neither the time nor the patience to answer their judgmental questions himself and left the task to Sharn, the Queen Mother.
Needless to say, she had not expected there to be so much objection to the idea of her son marrying Jasmine. Did they not realize that they owed their very lives to the young heroine? Why, they would all still be suffering under the tyranny of the Shadow Lord if it were not for her. At the thought of the ungrateful public, Sharn fought to keep herself from rolling her eyes, a habit she had picked up from the wild girl in question.
Jasmine was the last person that the aristocratic families of Del had expected to become their young king's bride. Of course, they had anticipated there to be some sort of spark between the couple; after all, they were both still youthful and spent much time together. But a marriage of love between them? That was unspeakable. The nobility used marriage as a political tool, for forging alliances and uniting power, not for love. If truth be told, they would not have cared less if Lief took Jasmine as a mistress... so long as another girl, one of noble blood, still held the position of Queen of Deltora.
And so, having turned to the Queen Mother instead, the representatives of Del's elite had implored Sharn to speak to her son and convince him otherwise on what they deemed to be a rather impulsive decision. The only issue that obstructed them was that Sharn herself was more than supportive of Lief's choice.
In truth, she was actually delighted and proud that Lief had chosen Jasmine to be his wife. The happiness and cheerfulness that the girl brought to his face were more than enough for her, especially considering the tumultuous trials the two had faced together with Barda. And she had to admit, she had been growing quite fond of Jasmine, who reminded her of Anna greatly.
The thought of her old friend brought a small tear to her eye, which she quickly swiped away with a fingertip. If only you could see your daughter now, Anna, Sharn thought with a sad smile. You would be so proud of her. Lifting her cup to her painted lips, she frowned as she realized it was empty. Shrugging offhandedly, she reached for the warm porcelain teapot to pour herself another cup before the gentle creak of the wooden door and a soft voice shattered her silent paradise.
"Sharn, may I speak with you about something?"
The woman glanced up towards the voice, intending to glare at whomever had the audacity to interrupt her personal time, but stopped short when she recognized the familiar elfin face framed by a mass of tangled, black tresses. There, standing before the entranceway was her son's bride, and Deltora's future. Strangely, the girl's emerald green eyes did not hold the usual confidence and defiance they normally did; instead, Sharn detected something else in them... something more akin to... worry?
This surprised her; Jasmine was not one to look so anxious or nervous. "Is something the matter, dear?" Sharn asked gently. If she did not know any better, she would have assumed that her son had done something incredibly foolish to upset his soon-to-be wife. However, she was certain that that was not the case.
Despite her feelings for him, Jasmine had not been immediately accepting when Lief had proposed to her, and it had taken him quite literally blood, sweat, and tears to convince her to agree. Since then, Lief had been extremely careful about what he said or did around Jasmine, afraid that the slightest thing might make her change her mind.
"Oh, no," Jasmine assured, "there is nothing wrong. I only wish for some... advice."
Sharn inwardly sighed for the loss of personal leisure, but said nothing of it. Jasmine was one of the most headstrong, independent people she had ever known, and if the girl was asking for advice, it was most likely something important. In any case, Sharn rarely had an opportunity to bond with Jasmine, and she figured now would be as good a time as any.
"Come," Sharn gestured with a small smile and a wave of her hand, "join me for some tea and cake."
Jasmine tensed at the idea of having tea time with her future mother-in-law, but nodded nonetheless and closed the door behind her, moving to sit across from the woman. Sharn absently noted that the two animals that usually accompanied the girl were nowhere to be found; the bird and the... squirrel was it? What had Lief said were their names? She did not remember.
"So what did you need help with, Jasmine?" Sharn inquired, filling the empty teacup she had left for Lief with the steaming beverage and handing it to the girl. Her son had reluctantly promised earlier that he would join her today for afternoon tea to discuss some marriage arrangements, but he was either running late or decided not to show altogether, not that she was surprised by this.
"I was hoping you could inform me as to what my duties will be when Lief and I marry," Jasmine said in a straightforward fashion, taking the cup in her hands and tucking a stray strand of black hair behind her ear.
At this, Sharn hesitated, but kept her face impassive. As it happens, what was expected of the wife of a reigning King of Deltora was relatively simple: the ability to produce an heir to the Belt. Indeed, even before the time of the Shadow Lord's occupation, the royal tradition for a queen consort was to become with child as soon as possible, and in turn, a prince consort would be expected to impregnate the reigning Queen just as quickly.
Sharn herself had been quite young when she was married to Lief's father, and although it had taken seven years of marriage to finally become pregnant, there had always been consistent pressure from Deltora's conservative classes for an heir to the throne. As such, she was at a complete loss on how to explain such a tradition to the girl in front of her. Believing Lief would want to discuss such things with Jasmine himself, she smiled reassuringly and chose to dance around the subject instead.
"As Queen, you will become one of Lief's most trusted advisors," the woman said evasively, while elegantly pouring tea into her own cup. Although not entirely untrue, she had no doubt that Jasmine would become her son's closest confidant, if this was not already the case. Sharn noticed the girl was listening rather intently to her, which she found strange considering Jasmine's notoriously short attention span when it came to Deltoran politics.
At her answer, Jasmine frowned. "I am unsure how I could be of much help," she said. "I know nothing about politics."
"It will not always be about politics, dear. There will inevitably be a time when Lief becomes stressed from all that he must do, and in that time you must let him know that he is not alone in carrying the burden."
Sharn brought her cup to her lips and took a tentative sip before continuing: "And the rest of us trust that you will be able to keep him in line should he wish to do something impulsively foolish." The corner of Jasmine's lips quirked upward slightly upon hearing her small joke. "You know, you are much prettier when you smile, dear," Sharn noted honestly, causing the girl to blush scarlet and lower her head.
"Pretty is not a word I would use to describe myself," Jasmine muttered.
"Now, Lief would certainly have a fit if he heard you say such a thing," Sharn retorted lightly. At this, Jasmine snapped her head back up and stared questioningly at her. She gave a knowing smile in return, "He adores you, Jasmine." Sharn herself knew this to be duly understated; her son's admiration of the girl had indeed grown well beyond simple adoration, and the bond he shared with Jasmine was unlike anything she had ever experienced or witnessed before.
Jasmine nodded slowly and did not reply, instead mulling over the elder woman's words. Sharn wisely kept silent and allowed her to draw her own conclusions. Continuing to sip daintily at her tea, several moments of comfortable silence passed before the girl spoke again to her.
"How did you occupy yourself when Endon was King?" Jasmine asked in a change of subject.
Sharn smiled sadly at the mention of her late husband, whom she had grown to love dearly. "Truthfully, both Endon and I did very little as rulers," she explained. "Prandine was the one who conducted most of the businesses in the Palace." She shuddered slightly at the mention of the former Chief Advisor.
"But surely you must have done something to keep yourself busy, yes?" At this, Sharn chuckled softly in amusement; it was no secret that Jasmine found the Palace life to be particularly boring. The poor girl sounded almost desperate.
Placing her teacup down on the table, Sharn lifted her delicate hands in the air. "I wove to pass time," she said. "It was a strenuous hobby, but rewarding nonetheless. Lief told me the cloak I had woven for him has helped the three of you on your journeys, and for that I am glad."
"Indeed!" Jasmine agreed, beaming. "I cannot count the number of times that cloak has saved our lives." Suddenly, her face twisted into an expression of curiosity and she cocked her head to the side. "Do you always weave magic into such things?"
Sharn simply shook her head in reply. "As you know, Toran magic dissipates the farther we travel from Tora," she answered. "Like Marilen, I have very little magic here; creating that cloak took every ounce of strength I had." As she finished, she tenderly reached for a golden-yellow miniature cake from the tray.
The girl meanwhile nodded solemnly, before lowering her gaze once more. "Did you ever... miss your home while being Queen?" she whispered.
Having heard this, Sharn paused sharply from grabbing the small pastry. The woman was taken aback, both by her question and by the soft resignation of her tone. Lief had informed his mother before of Jasmine's homesickness and of his fears in his beloved bride leaving him for the Forests of Silence. As a result, Sharn was well aware that this topic treaded dangerous ground and chose her next words carefully.
"I am of Toran blood," she began, shaking her head, "but Del is my birthplace; besides, my true home has always been with Endon." Sharn knew she was taking a risk, but she hoped with all her heart that Jasmine would understand the hidden meaning behind her words. She certainly did not want the girl to leave either.
"I see," Jasmine replied while staring down at her still full cup, from which she still had not drunk.
Just then, the door to the room suddenly swung open and in walked an exhausted king, his boots clomping heavily on the tile floor. His ever-present sword hung loosely by his hip and the Belt of Deltora glimmered around his waist. "I am sorry for being late, mother," Lief began tiredly, "I was—"
Her son paused when he noticed his intended wife sitting across from her with teacup in hand. Jasmine gave a small smile and waved at Lief in greeting, who noticeably brightened in mood. "I did not think you would be much of an afternoon tea person, wild girl," he teased playfully. The boy strode across the room to Jasmine and leaned down to place a chaste kiss on her cheek before sitting in the chair next to her and greeting his mother.
"I had something I needed to speak with Sharn about," the girl retorted defensively. She shoved her cup of tea into his hands and folded her arms across her chest defiantly, causing Lief to grin.
"Of course, Jasmine."
Sharn quickly interrupted before the two could banter further. "Now that you are here, Lief," she said gently, "we may begin discussing some important matters concerning your marriage; and it is just as well that you are here also, Jasmine."
Lief groaned in reply, "Can it not wait until a later time?"
"The sooner we begin, the sooner it will be over, dear," Sharn reminded her son philosophically, who merely nodded glumly in defeat. Seeing she had both their attention, she began, "Very well. Now, the first matter is over what shall become of Jasmine's chambers after the wedding." The woman glanced up and was met with two equally confused expressions from the young couple.
"What do you mean?" Jasmine chimed. "Why must anything happen to my room?" Lief, meanwhile, was not overly enthusiastic about where this was going.
Sharn cocked an eyebrow. "You will have no use for it," she answered. "You will be sleeping in Lief's chambers, will you not, Jasmine?"
"Mother..." Lief complained with a tint of pink on his cheeks; he held the teacup up to hide his face under the pretense that he was taking a sip. In turn, Jasmine blushed a deep red for the second time when she finally understood the implications of what was said.
Although Sharn found their reactions to be endearing, she ignored them for Jasmine's sake and continued: "Whatever the case may be, Barda has suggested that it be used as a storage closet. Can you imagine? How ridiculous, we already have plenty of those! Instead, I propose that we convert it into a nursery, for when—"
Without warning, Lief concurrently spit out hot tea into the air and exclaimed, "Mother!" Sharn had been prepared to scold her son for interrupting her again, but stopped short when she noticed the peculiar shade of color his face had turned. At this point, Lief had become as bright red as the Ruby on the Belt, and he glanced uneasily sideways at Jasmine, who had a curious expression on her face.
"I am aware of what a storage closet is," the girl said, having recalled bitterly the numerous times she had accidentally walked into one while looking for her bedchambers, "but what is a nursery?"
Immediately, Lief began to relax. He silently thanked Adin that this wild girl knew as much about a nursery as she did a shop. However, turning to face her, he realized that her question was in fact directed at him, causing his face grow warm once more.
"Uh... w-well..." he stammered while looking anywhere but at Jasmine and twiddling his thumbs. "You see, Jasmine... a nursery is a p-place for... nursing and..." Sharn sighed and shook her head in exasperation at her son's intelligent speech. Perhaps Lief was right: the discussion could indeed wait until another time; however, that did not mean she was going to save him from his current predicament.
Sharn patiently continued to drink her tea with grace for the next few minutes while Lief babbled and spluttered incoherently to his still confused bride. Out of the corner of her eye while she sipped, the woman could see him glancing at her every so often in an obvious plea for help, which she ignored.
She loved her son, surely, but she certainly hoped he would overcome this nervousness soon. She had every intention of greeting her grandchild before passing on into the spirit world; however, if Lief stuttering helplessly while even speaking about children was any indication, the prospect did not bode well.
From birth, Sharn had been taught to be ladylike at all times, but even she could barely contain her own amusement as she saw the increasingly worried expression on Jasmine's face. With the supposedly confident and brave king continuing to speak like a madman, Sharn finally intervened to spare him of any further stress.
Donning the most deadpan face she could muster, Sharn spoke softly while pretending to stare out the window. "It is such a beautiful day outside," she began nonchalantly. At last, Lief ceased to babble, and both he and Jasmine turned to face Sharn. "I am sure Jasmine has grown quite tired of me and would enjoy a walk in the Gardens before the supper bell, hmm?"
Lief threw his mother a grateful look, but unsurprisingly, Jasmine became confused once again. "What? But I have not grown—"
"An excellent idea," Lief interrupted hastily while jumping to his feet. He grabbed Jasmine's hand and pulled her up with him, not wanting to lose this chance to escape, "Come, Jasmine, let us leave now so that we may return in time for supper. I am quite hungry."
"But there are cakes right there on the—"
"Farewell, mother!" the boy called over his shoulder as he began dragging the still bewildered girl to the doorway. "We will be back in a little while!" Before Sharn had a chance to reply, Lief moved swiftly out the room with Jasmine, closing the door behind them and leaving his mother alone.
With her peaceful world firmly re-established, Sharn silently rubbed her temples with her fingers and leaned back, resting her shoulders on the elegant, wooden chair once more. She then gently closed her eyes and lolled her head forward, attempting to soothe her own mind. It was not as if she had not enjoyed the conversation with Jasmine, quite the contrary.
In reality, Sharn did not worry in the slightest that Jasmine would become bored as Queen. Why, with all the eventual hustle and bustle of citizens and representatives requesting her audience, it would not be long before the wild girl began craving for moments in which she could have time to herself. Sharn would not have been surprised if Jasmine even ended up snapping at one of them, as had been done before.
The woman smiled softly to herself as she imagined Jasmine yelling heatedly at the herald of a noble family. Oh, what she would give to see the expression on the man's face at being scolded by a relatively short queen who spoke so openly.
Her stream of thought, however, was incidentally cut short by the violent crack of wood against stone. She opened one eye irritably to see who would open the door so forcefully, and for what reason.
"Has the bell been rung yet?" boomed a loud, deep voice. "I am starved! Oh, greetings, Sharn."
"Barda," Sharn returned in greeting without turning to face him. She had half a mind to kick the so-called Captain of the Palace Guards out the window of a tower for old times' sake, but ultimately decided it would be unbecoming of a lady and abstained from doing so. Instead, she re-closed her open eye in frustration; it seemed she would not be having any moment to herself today. "I regret to inform you that supper is not yet ready."
"A shame," the bearded man said, shaking his head before turning back to leave. "In that case, I will return later. By the by, I came across Lief on my way here. He said something about taking Jasmine for a walk."
Sharn nodded tiredly to show that she understood, despite the fact that she already knew this. Still keeping her head back and eyes closed, she hoped that Barda would realize that she was too exhausted to speak anymore.
Understanding the subtlety, the man moved to exit the room. "If they do not return before supper, please save Lief's portion for me."
"Barda, old friend," Sharn spoke suddenly, "wait a moment." Hearing her, he paused and turned. A sly, hidden smirk twitched at the corner of her lips as she began entertaining a wonderfully complicit idea. Slowly raising her eyelids, she finally turned her face to him and folded her hands in her lap. "The Cooks will not be ready for another hour or so; I was wondering if you would help me plan something for Lief and Jasmine's wedding in the meantime."
At the man's baffled and somewhat uncomfortable expression, she smiled sweetly. Strictly speaking, Lief had neither accepted nor rejected her proposal in turning Jasmine's room into a nursery. Of course, as the boy's mother, Sharn felt she had the maternal right in assuming the former, and consequently, she believed she had found the perfect candidate to help her construct such a project. Perhaps next time, Barda would know better than to interrupt her personal time.