Disclaimer: The Vision of Escaflowne is owned by Sunrise and Bandai Entertainment. No copyright infringement is intended by this not-for-profit story, although the author would like to point out that this doesn't mean that others can freely copy this text and claim it as their own!
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To Carenza's delight, the next day brought her father back to the capital with her brother Dryden in tow. She excused herself from the princesses' presence, although it was hardly necessary now that Marlene had the distraction of planning her ensemble for the coming ball. She headed for her father's suite, which was in the opposite wing of the royal palace. Although it was modest in size compared to the great state rooms, Meiden Fassa had furnished it in royal splendour. Every inch of wood was painted or lacquered or gilded, the furniture was upholstered in rose-and-white silk brocade, and curtains of heavy gold velvet framed the tall windows. A vast portrait of her father hung over the white marble fireplace.
'Father?'
A chambermaid looked up from where she was laying a fire in the grate.
'The master's with his Majesty the King, ma'am. I'll be done and out of your way in a minute.'
'That's all right. Have you seen my brother?'
'In the master's study, ma'am.'
Carenza slid back one of the pair of doors dividing the study from the main salon. Dryden was sitting on the floor, poring over an enormous atlas.
'I might have known I'd find you in here,' she said. 'Don't you ever stop reading?'
Dryden looked up through dark, wayward curls.
'I'm trying to work out how many countries Zaibach has conquered since Emperor Dornkirk took over. These old maps show some of them.'
'Why are you so interested in Zaibach all of a sudden?' She pulled the door to behind her and sat down next to him.
'I heard Father talking about it the other day. About how big the Empire has gotten and how small Asturia is in comparison.'
'Y-you don't think Zaibach would try to conquer Asturia, do you?'
Dryden shrugged.
'Father thinks we're still more useful to them as allies. We buy goods from countries outside the Empire and trade them to Zaibach. If Zaibach conquered us, they'd have to trade directly with those countries, and since most of them don't like Zaibach, the Empire would probably have to conquer them too if it wanted the goods at a reasonable price.'
'So, until Zaibach is powerful enough to conquer the world, we're safe.'
'That's about the size of it, sis.'
She didn't think it sounded very reassuring. The shaded area on the northern half of the map, marking the extent of the Zaibach Empire, looked awfully large.
The sliding doors rattled as the outer door of the apartment was opened.
'Sounds like Father is back,' Dryden whispered.
'No, I hear two voices. There's someone with him.'
'Who is it?'
'Sounds like...King Aston.'
'The king? What's he doing here?'
'Shush, stupid! Let's listen, and we'll find out.'
They peered through the chink between the double doors of the study. Sure enough, there was King Aston, standing by the window looking out over the gardens.
'Thank you for coming to my modest apartments, your Majesty. Some of my fellow councillors are a little...squeamish about the political realities we have to face.'
'Such as?'
'We are a small realm, your Majesty, and our wealth is built upon a fragile web of trade. Trade in silks and furs, in spices, wines, and other, less tangible, goods. Like filial duty.'
'Get to the point, Fassa. I'm a busy man.'
'Your majesty, your fair daughters are perhaps our most priceless commodity-'
The king turned round, his face pale.
'A commodity? Is that how you see them, merchant?'
Their father smiled placatingly.
'I meant no offence, your Majesty. Only recall that, without heirs male, the ruling of Asturia, if not its crown, will pass to the husband of one of your daughters. The future of our realm depends on the choices you make for their marriages.'
King Aston nodded. 'Go on.'
'Fanelia is a very small and, not to put too fine a point on it, backward country. Surely it is foolish to squander one of your daughters on this prince, however nobly descended, when there are far more important powers with whom one could be allied.' He glanced significantly at the northward-facing windows.
'You surely don't mean...'
'The empire is growing ever more powerful, your Majesty. Those who do not stand with it will surely fall.'
'Since when has Emperor Dornkirk been interested in marriage?'
Their father shrugged.
'He is not - but he cannot live forever. Sooner or later he must choose a successor, perhaps a young man in need of political support...'
'Know you of such a man?'
'Not yet - but my...contacts in the Empire are growing all the time. Rest assured that as soon as such a man is found, your Majesty will be the first to know of it.'
The king moved towards the door, his booted feet passing within inches of where the children watched.
'I'm sorry, Fassa, but I do not see the advantage of offending a neighbour, and I might add, an old friend, over the very distant possibility of a closer alliance with Zaibach.'
'As your Majesty pleases. I am but a humble advisor.'
'And your advice is ever welcome. Now, if you have made your point, I dare say I am wanted elsewhere.' He sighed. 'If only my dear Therese were still alive - she was so much better than I at the minutiae of social matters.'
'I will not impose upon your valuable time any longer, your Majesty.'
King Aston snorted, and Meiden hurried ahead of him to open the door to the corridor. The two children took advantage of the distraction to return to the atlas. When their father opened his study door they were innocently discussing trade routes with neighbouring kingdoms.
'So, how long have you two been here?'
'Only a short while,' Carenza said hurriedly.
'But you were in here when the king and I arrived - or have you found a secret passage behind my bookshelves?'
'Are there secret passages in the palace?' asked Dryden innocently.
Meiden sighed.
'How much did you hear?'
The children exchanged guilty glances. Carenza drew a deep breath. A partial truth was better than an outright lie.
'Only that the King wants to betroth one of his daughters to Prince Folken but you think he isn't good enough for them.'
'That's not what I said, Carenza. I merely suggested that Asturia has more important allies. I meant no disrespect to Fanelia or its prince.'
'Poor Eries!' Dryden exclaimed. 'I hope she does get the Fanelian prince and not some horrible old Zaibach general.'
'When you are older, Dryden, you will understand that sometimes we have to do things we do not like in order to protect our future. Now, promise me you will speak of this to no-one.'
'We promise, Father,' said Carenza.
'Dryden?'
'All right, I promise.'
'Now, assuming you two haven't been rifling through my desk drawers, I have a surprise for each of you.'
The surprises turned out to be a gold and amber parure for Carenza and a lacquered box of pens, inks and brushes for Dryden. Carenza put on the matching choker and pendant necklace and tried out the hair ornaments in the mirror, but the earrings were for pierced ears.
'Oh dear, I hadn't noticed that,' said her father. 'Perhaps you could have them done in time for the ball?'
'Perhaps.' She wasn't sure that she wanted her ears pierced; it sounded very painful.
'Well, you do look lovely in the rest of it, my dear. The amber brings out the golden tones in your eyes. Now, I really do have a lot of letters to write, so into the salon with the pair of you.'
He ushered them out of the study and closed the doors.
'You'd better sit at the table if you want to try out your new things,' Carenza pointed out to her brother. 'Father won't be pleased if you get ink on the carpet.'
Dryden put the box down on an occasional table and wandered over to the fireplace.
'He's trying to buy our love, like he buys everything else,' he grumbled.
'What do you mean?'
'You have more than enough jewellery, and I already have a writing set almost exactly like that one; he bought it me for my birthday. He doesn't even bother to think about his gifts any more. If he did, he would have remembered you don't have pierced ears.'
'Dryden that's not fair.' She glanced towards the study doors. 'Father works very hard. These gifts are just his way of saying sorry for not spending more time with us.'
'He always says time is money,' replied Dryden, deliberately raising his voice. 'So why can't he spend more time and less money on us?'
'I don't know, it's just one of those grown-up things, I guess. Look, why don't we take a walk down to the market? I need to get some new ribbons for my dancing shoes, and you can practise your Ezgardian on the stallholders.'
Dryden grinned.
'I prefer to wait until after they've tried to swindle you before I let them know I understand every word, but all right.'
Carenza couldn't help smiling. For all his criticism of their father, Dryden was a shrewd a businessman as Meiden ever was.
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Author's Note: This chapter gets its title from King Lear, Act I, Scene 4: "How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is, to have a thankless child."