Pre-A/N: Thank you, everyone who keeps reviewing. Sorry it took so long to up-date. This weekend I was on a college visit to the University of Evansville, where I'll be this fall. Then Monday I was working on a side project.
Here's the third chapter, and I have to tell you all something, since it seems like you're in it for the long haul, at this point. This fic is longer than I ever intended. Long chapters, and there are already 25 of them. I'm not quite done yet. Be afraid.
CHAPTER 3- Second Cousin, Once Removed
It was a nearly three months before I saw Flauvic again. He had completed his time in the kitchens without a hitch. I heard from one of the regular kitchen staff that he hadn't even complained. I was surprised and strangely proud when I heard it.
The air was dry, but hot at the outdoor party thrown by Tara. She was half a year past her Flower Day, already, so she was showing off more than she had been for the entire time I knew her, which should say a lot. I stood as out of the way of the festivities as possible, not wanting it to be made blatantly obvious that I was never going to be one of the pretty, popular girls. If I could just stay out of the way, I could say that I was at the party, I had a wonderful time, and, yes, the ice sculpture of Tara looked marvelous, exactly like her; and no one would try to make me tell jokes, or play the male lead in a spur of the moment drama they had concocted for us to perform.
Flauvic had moved from hard labor to the more comfortable server position. He was at the party, observing everyone, while carrying glasses of wine and champagne. He was just as stunning as ever, his hair clean and golden, the reddish undertones catching the torchlight, and hanging so that it was long enough to be unique, but still in fashion. He made the servant's uniform look like the best custom made suit any of the young men were wearing. He wasn't doing very well at his new duties as he had been as a kitchen hand; he kept drawing attention away from the party, and without even acting like he was a part of it.
I watched with amusement as girl after girl stared at him and tried to decide whether or not they should try to flirt. On one hand, he was the infamous Lord Flauvic serving out his punishment at Court, and a servant, to boot. On the other hand, he was the handsomest of the young men at the party and still technically a courtier. It was quite amusing, and I was very glad that I wasn't having those problems. I nearly laughed out loud when Tara finally made the first bold move to speak with him.
"L-lord Flauvic," she crooned. "I'm ashamed that one of your stature should be serving drinks at one of my parties, instead of enjoying the festivities. I do wish that the circumstances of our meeting were anything else."
He bowed his head, and when he straightened he hesitated, then decided to speak.
"You are Tara of Savona, aren't you? Lord Savona and Lady Tamara's daughter?"
She was pleased and blushed coyly.
"Yes, indeed," she dropped her voice to a near purr. If I hadn't been skulking near a tree not four paces away from them I would have missed it.
Flauvic resettled his tray of glasses so that it balanced one-handed and took Tara's hand, bowed over it, and kissed her knuckles lightly, just as he had kissed the maid's hand at the inn he'd taken me to on our way to the boarder. Tara blushed darker, and this time I think that part of it was real.
"May I say," Flauvic matched her, intimate tone for intimate tone, "you sound every bit as appealing in person as your voice did when I was still a goldenwood tree in the Throne Room."
My eyebrows shot up and I had to cover my mouth, remembering that he had said that Tara had sounded like an insect, always whining. Tara, herself, looked very pleased, and dropped a small curtsy before sauntering off to her friends to tell them some version of what had just happened.
To my surprise, Flauvic caught my eye as he passed, going back to where the other servants were caring for the food and drink supplies. He flicked his gaze to where
Tara had walked off to, then brought them back to me. The corner of his mouth quirked up and I shared the private joke with him.
When he walked away I was still smiling. The entire exchange lasted less than a second, but it lifted my spirits for the rest of the party. Not so much that we had made fun of Tara without her knowing, but that someone didn't think that she was the epitome of everything a woman should be.
***^^^***^^^***
The next week my parents cornered me on the subject of my own Flower Day celebration. I had been avoiding the topic for over a month. I didn't see the point in throwing a ball to let everyone know that I was an official woman now, look at me, look at me; not when I knew that it wouldn't change anyone's mind about me. I would still be funny Princess Elestra, the one with the guts.
"Come now, Elestra," Mother cajoled. "It's a right of passage that all young women must go through. It signifies your blooming from a girl into a woman. And it gives us a reason to give you gifts."
I chuckled. We both knew that I didn't want anything; or, what I did want no one could give me, which was... what was it, anyway?
"Elestra," Father said. "This will be the first Flower Day of a royal princess of the Renselaeus line upon the throne of Remalna. We need to set an example of prosperity and concord, if nothing else."
Mother and I made the same nasty face, which made him laugh and rethink his statement.
"Alright, alright! Life! The looks on your faces," he chucked. "How about this? We are so very proud of the fine, intelligent, beautiful woman you have become these past few years that we want to show you off. Better?"
I sighed, wishing that Father wasn't so good at diplomacy sometimes. I agreed to have my stupid party, but we compromised, pushing the date back for another three months, and I got to come up with my own theme for the party.
I decided to go out for a walk. Maybe I would go to the archives and see how my ancestresses had spent their Flower Days. I might even get an idea of how to plan my own. If not, I would stop by Tara's rooms and ask her to lend her all powerful opinion to my dilemma.
I opened the tapestry to the library to see Flauvic, one hand raised to a high shelf, the other full of books. I was surprised to see him. He turned to glance at me, saw who it was and narrowed his eyes.
"You," he sneered, lowering his hand to pick up another book.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, trying to sound superior. "I thought you were carrying glasses."
"They needed extra help for the buzzing beauty's little gala," he said dryly. "That was the only reason I was there. I am now re-shelving books, and I have you to thank for it. Do you know how tedious this is?"
"Very, I'm sure," I rolled my eyes.
I moved passed him and started for the archive where the diaries of past royalty sat and musted.
"What are you looking for?" Flauvic asked. "I've seen every book this library holds at this point."
"I'm looking for ideas for the theme of my Flower Day celebration that my parents insist on throwing for me," I answered, turning around to face him again.
His eyebrows came together slightly.
"I didn't think that you were that old yet. You don't look it."
"I have a baby face," I said, turning back around.
I heard him clear his throat behind me.
"Since it is a Flower Day celebration, you could try something with relation to plants," he suggested, shelving another book.
I slowly turned back to him, hands on my hips and a distrusting expression on my face.
"And what exactly might that be?" I asked sardonically.
Flauvic resettled the books in the crook of his left arm.
"Well," he thought for a moment. "Each person who comes to the ball could come representing a different kind of plant. The men could come as ferns, or moss, or ivy, briars, what ever they chose. The ladies could be flowers themselves. Starliss, violets, roses, and the like. Each flower person brings you the flower or foliage that they represent."
I stood in quiet thought for a moment. It was a good idea, drat him. And it certainly was original.
"I'll think about it," I said.
He smirked, knowing that I was going to use his idea. He reached up to replace another book, but missed his intended target and the book tumbled down, bringing several others with it. Flauvic ducked. I jumped at the first loud impact on the floor. The old books let loose a cloud of dust that danced in the light from the open window, causing Flauvic to sneeze repeatedly.
"Good health," I told him automatically, chuckling a little.
He sent me a mild glare, which only made me grin wider. I looked around the room for a stool used to get books down from those high shelves. It would work just as well to put them back. I found one in the far corner just as Flauvic was picking up the extra books that he would be putting back. I trotted over and back before he tried to stretch and kill himself again.
"Here, hand me the books one at a time," I said, climbing up on the stool. He looked surprised, but handed me the first book, pointing where it should go. In a few moments, all of the books were back in their proper places. I looked down at Flauvic and smirked.
"How long would you have gone on without thinking to get a stool, huh?"
"Probably until I had brained myself with a very thick memoir," he said dryly.
I laughed and climbed the two small stairs down. When I refocused on him again, Flauvic was giving me a speculative look that reminded me a little of Father. It was then that I remembered that they did share blood.
"I know that you and Father are cousins, but how, exactly, are you related?" I asked.
He had to think about it for a moment. "His mother's father was my father's mother's sister. He and I are second cousins."
"So... Does that make us third cousins?"
He seemed a bit startled by the implication. "I suppose," he shrugged. "Maybe second cousins once removed."
I nodded, although I'd never really understood the concept of "once removed."
A tap came from outside the tapestry. A tall, balding man with a barrel chest and green eyes came into the room. Flauvic immediately tensed, though not noticeably unless you weren't standing right next to him, and I wondered why.
"You done yet?" the intruder asked.
I disliked him immediately.
"Finished and awaiting your orders," Flauvic drawled. "Princess, allow me to introduce my warden, Geoff. Geoff, Princess Elestra."
The warden bowed awkwardly. I curtsied to him, and then to Flauvic, and took my leave. I was suddenly reminded that Flauvic was being punished for a crime, and that I shouldn't be speaking with him under any circumstances. I couldn't figure out how I had forgotten that in the first place.
When I told Mother the idea for the party she was so excited that she started sending out messages to craftsmen and entertainers that day. I didn't see the need to tell her where I'd gotten the idea. I was still dreading the actual event, but Mother had a way of doing things that inspired enthusiasm, so I went along with her every step of the way.
We planned for the invitations to be sent out three weeks before the party, so we had nine weeks to make sure that everything would support "my" ideal theme. In the mean time, the Court was getting guests from Colend, Norsunder, and Denlieff; ambassadors and diplomats come to make alliances and reaffirm Remalna's stand in everything going on in the world to date. Boring, but necessary politics.
