A/N: THANK YOU to Ariellabellas, siromygod, sphyre, Kendra1996, Frogster, Silken Petal, yourheartsdesire, courtingu, singinandlovinit, Ybs, The Hopeful Violinist, Crazed Fuzzle, Nerds United, and Manwathiel for your reviews! Also, thank you to those of you who are simply reading. Your time means a lot to me.

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Happy New Year!

Disclaimer: Crown Duel belongs to Sherwood Smith!


Patient Combat

My entire body went taut with a strange fury, and heat flooded my face.

-

I didn't like the idea at first.

Mother was going to pull Meliara away from her first Court gathering for a private interview…this discreet sort of thing was precisely what Meliara despised. She would get her first taste of duplicitous courtly maneuvers from the Renselaeuses. I'd already done enough damage; did we need to set this fierce woman more adamantly against us?

Upon hearing my concerns, my parents both gave me the patient 'Yes, But' look.

"She is going to encounter the same behavior from others with their own agendas," my mother said.

"May as well ensure we are first in line," my father added. "We can't afford to leave her alone."

There's never been a truer statement. Parents…they're so often right.

After the party, we met in my parents' parlor to hear how the interview had gone. I could hardly sit still. My mother is a keen observer of character and there was a smile lurking around her mouth that I desperately needed explained.

At my advice, Mother had taken Meliara to the library. "She is quite an observant young lady," Mother said. "She even asked after the footmen."

That made me grin. My father's own lips twitched.

"The library was a perfect idea," Mother continued. "She relaxed immediately, and showed interest in the plays. I showed her the multiple versions of The Queen from the Plains and I think they truly surprised her. I was able to enlighten her about the dubious nature of literature, and that authors sometimes cannot be trusted. She was very attentive and curious. Just before we left, she asked me about my hand in her escape from Galdran. I knew she was blunt but I wasn't expecting that." Mother raised a humorous eyebrow. "I do believe I was able to convey our position on the matter." She looked at me thoughtfully. "I think I confused her. I don't understand why."

I didn't have an answer except that anything strange about Meliara's attitude was my fault. The knowledge landed in my gut with a thump like it always did.

"She seems quite passive, then," Father said. "She's content to simply observe."

"Yes that is what it seems," I said. "But she's not even been here a whole day."

"You said you spoke to her in Tlanth about her purpose in coming to the capitol," Mother said. "What did she say?"

"That she wouldn't try for the crown and she didn't want any more wars. She also mentioned that she isn't stupid enough to lend herself to the schemes of troublemakers just for the sake of making trouble." I massaged the bridge of my nose, remembering her brittle voice and blazing eyes.

A weighty silence prevailed for an instant. Then my father spoke gently. "Do you think she was telling the truth?"

"If she wasn't, she's the best liar I've ever met," I said.

"I agree," Mother said. "There is an unmistakable earnestness in her countenance. But you've conversed with her as well, Alaerec."

Father nodded, considering his hands for a moment. "Whatever she decides, she will have pure intentions. She's already demonstrated that she will passionately pursue whatever she believes in."

"And her willingness to come back to this place of bad memories, her cautious attitude…these both bode very well. When we first met her, she was impulsive. Since then, she has learned to observe and think before acting." Mother nodded. "I have complete confidence in her."

"As do I," Father said. "It's everyone else I'm worried about."

My mother twitched an eyebrow ruefully. I sighed. Father shrugged, rose, and stiffly made his way for the bedroom, squeezing my shoulder as he passed. Mother gave him a loving smile as he passed her. Then she turned to me and I rose quickly.

I didn't even have to ask; she just brushed my cheek and said, "I have never met a young lady like your Countess, Danric. I sincerely, sincerely hope that I will be able to get to know her better in the future."

I slept better that night than I had in weeks.


"The rose has been sent." Russav wiped his forehead on his sleeve. His sword glinted in the faint light of the glowglobes circling the gymnasium. "Now the next move is up to Meliara. You get to wait."

Life, what a change in situation that was not. The wave of frustration that surged up in me brought a hundred worries and questions with it. The comfort my parents' confidence had brought me was long gone. Why hadn't Meliara come to Petitioner's Court? I had openly invited her to explore. Was she truly that shy? Perhaps I had underestimated the depth of her hostility toward all things courtlike. Perhaps I didn't know her at all. If I didn't know her, why was I pursuing her? Was this whole situation going to end in tragedy? What was she doing instead of going to Petitioner's Court? According to my spies, she wasn't doing anything of concern. But she was the woman who had kept Russav, Debegri, and myself running all over the countryside for ridiculous days. She was clever. What if she was doing something I didn't know about?

Most importantly: When I finally went insane and decided to move to the forest, how would I keep my favorite books dry?

I raised my blade and Russav came at me again. I tried to focus on parries and ripostes, sweat trickling down my neck.

The truth: I was scared of that tiny woman from the mountains. I was scared of what I would have to do if she allied herself with the wrong people. Remalna came first and if Meliara made a wrong choice, I would have to strike against her for the good of the country. These thoughts heralded a future so dark a glimpse of it was enough to drown me in despondency.

Despondency, however, is no match for physical pain. Russav's blade smacked me in the ribs and I was mercifully freed from the labyrinth of my mind.

"Ho…ho…ho!" Russav panted. "I'd be happy to stop now. In fact…I need to get cleaned up for Trishe's party. I…have Meliara for the first dance."

"And there's no doubt I'll have Tamara." The sharp words came out before I could stop them, a reflexive counterstrike to a blow that had fallen on raw nerves. Russav went still. His eyes narrowed. For a long instant, we glared at each other.

Then I had to lean over to catch my breath. I gingerly rubbed my side, angry with myself. When I straightened, Russav was still standing there, his expression void of its usual merriment. It looked as exhausted as I felt.

Then he pursed his lips, walked up to me, and offered me his hand. "Can't let females come between cousins," he said.

I took a deep, cleansing breath and clasped his callused hand. "Never."

He half-smiled, dark eyes gleaming. "Seems it's just us against the world, doesn't it?"

I flatly quirked an eyebrow and nodded. "…Just us."


Lord Deric, Count of Orbanith was a merry soul. He liked laughter and food and drinks and women. He rarely seemed to take anything seriously, though I suspected he was more clever and solemn than he let on.

He had just finished a dance with Meliara and was escorting her toward the romantic balcony at one end of the ballroom. Couples went out there under the pretense of getting fresh air, but the true reason was one I didn't want to think about. I watched as Meliara, beautiful in a wine-red gown, followed him into the blue twilight. I compulsively sipped my punch to distract myself from the sinking feeling that overcame me.

Russav's flirtation with Meliara, while being something he relished, meant nothing. Deric's, however, was far more serious. Alone with him in the dark, how far would she let him…?

Slowly, Danric, slowly.

They were probably just talking and laughing. And if she did let him…well, it was her choice. That was the end of the matter.

Those are admirable sentiments, aren't they? I can't stand them.

Trishe's party was going predictably. Tamara had sought me out for the first dance. We had gone through our normal routine, but she had seemed unusually piqued when she gave her parting curtsey. I think it was because Savona had insisted on dancing not only the first dance with Meliara, but the second as well.

Now, courtiers whirled by and the light of a hundred glowglobes illuminated the massively vaulted ceiling of the long room. I felt wonderfully invisible as I lingered beside a polished pillar to take a breath.

Meliara had to be speculating about the identity of her secret admirer – though I would have appreciated it if she'd made it more obvious. What if she came to the conclusion that Deric was the man? Perhaps she would think it was red-headed Lord Geral; he was yet another who preferred her company…

Treatise on Male-to-Female Interactions for Inept Men, an In-Depth Study by One Rascal Who Knows It All

CHAPTER 5: That Delicate Sentiment Called Jealousy

In every heart there lives an utterly immature, unreasonable, selfish child named Jealousy. Its purpose is to unsettle you when you are content. It will make you miserable, make you determined, and make you want to say 'gimme' over and over again. I think that Jealousy is a double-edged blade. It becomes fixated with no consideration for the goodness or badness of the object it has seized onto. It can save or ruin the day.

Stop looking at me like that, Danric. We both know you do the wise philosopher act better than I do, but a man has to try.

When you grow up, you get to be jealous about Big Things like carriages, horses, houses, and fortune! This is very invigorating. But when women come into the picture, a bigger world of icky envy opens up before you. You are now free to take everything too seriously. You can passionately hate other men at the drop of a handkerchief, and plot untimely demises simply because two people held hands and You. Didn't. Like. It.

While the opportunities for song-worthy passion are massive, the opportunities to become a twisted, bitter parody of yourself are innumerable. Jealousy should be avoided like the brown piles that dot a pasture. In order to do this, blindfold yourself, move into a cave, and eat grass for the rest of your life.

Unfortunately, if you have to live like a normal person, there is no way to avoid jealousy. Therefore, your strategy must be a defensive one! Make sure you have loyal friends willing to listen to your plan to drown Count Whatshisname in the moat, and then kindly advise you otherwise. (Simply exiling the man would be more polite, anyway.)

Jealousy happens. Patience, chivalry, and self-control sometimes don't, but if they do, many messes can be avoided. Danric, of all the people I know, you are the one jealousy will have the least success with – but it won't give up without a fight.

And it certainly wasn't.

My eye was caught by something odd on my shoulder. White dust showed harshly against the slate gray velvet of my tunic. Ah. Tamara's face powder. I brushed it off, then recalled a particularly close moment and brushed the side of my neck. Yes, there was powder there, too. I surreptitiously wiped my skin clean.

Back when I was playing the brainless fop, constant flirtation was as essential as good tailoring. Fortunately, my flippant persona wasn't expected to go beyond the occasional half-minded kiss, but relationships can move very fast here, under the giddy lights and sparkling windows. Would Meliara be swept away?

My cold punch glass made my hand ache. I would choke if I tried to drink. I couldn't stop wondering, burn it - truly, how far would she let him go?

I forced my worries back when I saw Lady Renna Khialem slip between a laughing couple to reach me. She had a wild gleam in her eyes, and I immediately could guess what she was going to say.

"Will you be at the race next week, Danric?" she asked. "Geral and I both agree that the entire event would be a waste if you and your gray don't take part."

"I can happily assure you of our attendance," I said lightly. "We both could use a hard run."

"Marvelous!" Renna looked inordinately pleased. "It will be the best turnout yet!"

A murmur rolled through the ballroom. Servants had begun to arrange chairs and pillows in a circle. The space in the center of the circle was directly below a pure white dome that soared in the center of the vaulted ceiling. Talking expectantly, guests began to settle in. I watched the dusky doorway onto the balcony, knowing Deric and Meliara would likely come back in.

A hush suddenly fell. Renna and I both turned toward the grand entrance to see a dark-haired woman walking in. Her robes were loose and radiant and she moved with fluid grace toward the center of the room.

"This must be the singer Trishe was talking about," Renna said quietly. "She's supposed to be very good. Join me and the others?"

I didn't want to. I wanted to creepily lurk by my pillar and obsess over that balcony doorway, but that would be completely heinous of me. So I smiled, nodded, and walked with her to the front row, where Trishe and our other friends had saved us seats. On the other side of Trishe there were two empty spaces and I could guess whom they were for. I settled into a conversation with Geral who, of course, wanted to discuss next week's race.

A minute later, Meliara and Deric appeared, bring the sweet scent of flowers with them. Meliara's arm was hooked through Deric's. Her expression was all bright curiosity as she let herself be escorted to the seat beside Trishe. Her very pleased-looking escort seemed to find her more fascinating than anything else in the room.

Suddenly, most the glowglobes in the room were extinguished, casting the gathering in magical gloom. Just before the room faded into shadows, I saw that Meliara's cheeks were deeply flushed.

Flushed. Flushed from what?

Utter silence fell. The singer's light robes made her seem to glow. When she opened her mouth and poured music into the darkness, I heard but wasn't listening. At that moment, the rancor in my heart was spectacular. My entire body went taut with a strange fury, and heat flooded my face.

Just as the singer's voice reached an exquisite high note, a hand touched my shoulder and I jumped, swallowing the impulse to snarl. Slowly, I turned my head and saw Tamara's smile. She leaned forward to put her lips close to my ear. "Am I correct to assume that you will attend Renna's race?"

I simply inclined my head.

She gave a sigh that cooled my neck. "Good. I am confident your formidable steed will carry you to victory."

"We will see," I managed.

She sighed. "You are too modest. A man with your…prowess must be allowed to take credit once without bringing down eternal shame for himself."

"Then you must forgive me, for I am not inclined to take the credit you speak of." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Russav glance our direction. Tamara must have seen it too because suddenly her hands were on my shoulders.

"You are lamentably tense, my lord." As cascades of music filled the dome and echoed around us, Tamara squeezed, making circular motions on my neck with her thumbs.

I dislodged her by slowly rolling my shoulders. A terse "You are very kind" was all I could manage.

"Anything I can do to alleviate the great burdens you bear," she whispered.

"You have my thanks." For a moment I wanted to jerk my head back and hit her in the nose. But as always, pity extinguished my annoyance. With relief, I sensed her withdraw.

I reflected dismally on the situation. The more Tamara hurt, the more aggressive she became. She was probably in as much pain as I was - as Russav was. Life, what had we become? When we were young children shrieking in the gardens, we never could have guessed what a mess we would make of everything. A desperate need to leave seized me, but I didn't move.

Separated in multiple ways from the woman I loved, surrounded by aching desires and frustrations, I sat still and bore it.

Because that is how I am strong.

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