Chapter Twenty-Six
"I swear, by Damiaren's orb, I do not understand what all the sourness is about," Damiar Roleran tucked Ami's arm deep within the crook of her own arm, patting the girl's hand. "There is neither anything wrong with this land or this weather. But, I suppose, people never change. Given enough idle time and boredom, even the best will find something to complain about."
Ami couldn't help but smile as she walked through the Keep's gardens with her grandmother. The old woman was a delight to spend time with, a startling and welcome change and contrast to the painfully long breakfasts and suppers that were spent under her mother's constant eye. Her only escape came when she was permitted to join 'Lady Jadina' on her daily rounds of the Keep and its grounds; and the Damia Reina so disapproved of that amusement that those moments were few and far between. Even if she discounted and disagreed with Damiar Roleran's assessment of the weather, she was glad for company that was neither her mother nor Nynie and Sephrine. The latter simply drove her to insanity by not allowing her the breathing space she so badly craved, and the former simply never stopped reminding her of how easily she could fall into her mother, and her sovereign's, disapproval.
Although, she was never free of her ladies-in-waiting completely, even now, they followed along behind Ami and her grandmother, falling into step with her grandmother's own attendants and ready to run and scurry to Ami's aid whenever she might need it.
"I think that the weather is rather cool, Grandmother," Ami responded when she realized the old woman awaited a response of some sort. "I wear my cloak about constantly, even indoors."
The squeeze on her hand was accompanied by a chuckle. "And that is precisely what I mean, Amideira. You too are possessed with too much idle time and boredom enough to allow you to find something to complain about. Granted the sun does not shine here as brightly, but also the ground does not bake beneath our feet, now does it?"
"No," Ami admitted, "it does not."
"A matter of perspective, sweet child. You can find all of the bad in a situation, or you may root out the good of it. It all depends on how you wish to spend your days. Myself, I am far too old to waste the few good years I have remaining trying to find the words to describe all the things that are wrong with any given situation. I prefer to simply find whatever pleasure I can in what the gods set before me.
"Eris wished this land cool and green, while he wished Albarasque warm and gold, and I think that we can find it in ourselves to appreciate both, don't you?"
"I do appreciate it," Ami took a moment to look around the garden, again admiring the rainbow of flowers, both wild and cultivated, that gave the place a serene and tranquil beauty, "I've already commented on how pretty the land is. I just think that it is . . . cool."
"And so, the gods provide us with the materials and the means to create cloaks and heavy dresses," Damiar Roleran replied instantly, "as well as confining shoes of hard leather that do not allow the feet to touch the bare ground."
"But," her grandmother came to a halt, turning and touching her fingers to Ami's cheek through the thick layers of the shoufa, "I do think that whatever the weather, or the situation, my Amideira will adapt. She only needs to remember how to see the light in addition to the shadows."
Ami shifted uncomfortably, catching the hidden and unspoken meaning in the old woman's words. They were not speaking of her adapting to the weather, but rather, they spoke of her adapting to a new life her in Stiborn, the life as the wife of the High Prince -- Adam! -- and heir to the Lion Throne. Amideira had been reared and raised for this, but for Ami it was all new and uncharted territory. She was simply infinitely grateful once again to whatever power of fate had allowed her to have her friends close by; whatever power had chosen Adam as her future groom - a fact of which she had initially considered an odd joke. However, as the day of the wedding drew nearer, she grew more relieved that it was Adam. Adam was her friend, he was her rock and if Megabyte and Jade could muddle through as man and wife, she and Adam certainly should be able to pull it off. Ever since her impromptu visit to the High Prince, she felt more confident in that and was a bit more accepting of her fate.
Yet even finding comfort in the knowledge that it was Adam and not some strange man whom would be put off by his foreign bride, it still was a bit to settle her mind around. She was barely nineteen, and even though by this world's standards that meant she was fast encroaching on old maid territory, by earth standards she was still in her prime. On earth, she would be enjoying her youth, she would be taking her time to learn about herself and figure out what she wanted out of life and a husband. But, this was not earth; here, her path had been chosen and she was left simply with learning how to walk it gracefully.
"I know that, Grandmother."
"Yes, sweet child, you know it," Damiar Roleran peered at her closely, and Ami was hit with the feeling that the woman's dark eyes were piercing the shoufa and staring right into Ami, "but do you accept it?
"It is never easy being a bride. Harder for you, I think, than for your mother or even I." The words were stated with a thoughtful pause, the old woman looking away as she said them. She absently patted Ami's hand where it still rested in the crook of her arm, "Always, you have been so outspoken and yet you remain mostly silent in this. Come, Amideira, speak clearly. What are your feelings on this?"
Her feelings were that she wanted to go home. She didn't want to be the Damiar Princess Amideira any longer. Unfortunately, those were not the feelings that she could share with her grandmother.
Ami swallowed and spoke softly, "I accept it. It's my duty."
"Oh, yes, your duty. You are saying what you think I want to hear, child," Damiar Roleran made a note of disgust and pulled Ami to a halt again. She turned and settled onto the stone bench she had stopped in front of, her movements far more precise and stronger than one would have expected for a woman of her years, and patted the space beside her. "Do not preach back at me what has been preached to you. Tell me your thoughts, Ami. Your feelings."
"Do they matter? I have to do this no matter what. I can't change my mind or back out or go back to Albarasque --"
"Do they matter?" Damiar Roleran snorted, "Of course your feelings matter. Just because you have to do something doesn't mean that you don't have feelings about it. I *have* to have my ankles rubbed with lysis oil every morning because I am a feeble old woman. Do I accept this? Yes. Do I have feelings about it? Most certainly. And mostly I feel that it is a cruel joke that inside I am still as young as you are, while outside I am shriveling up like old fruit.
"I know that it has been imparted to you time and time again, the importance of this. And in your need to please everyone, you simply stand back and accept it." Her grandmother took both of her hands, "But know this, Amideira, I did not suggest this to the Circle or the Temple without a great deal of forethought. I know that you have everything that you need within you to make this work. You are smart, you are brave. And, nearly as pretty as I was at your age."
Ami laughed softly, sharing in the old woman's humor, and her smile remained when the lady began to speak again, "You were born for this, never doubt that. You will adapt and you will be strong, and you make a fine Queen to reign over two kingdoms some day, not a task to be undertaken lightly.
"But, for all that, my dear, you are a still a child. And you spent far longer in that cloister than I thought was appropriate. Very soon, you will join hands and kingdoms, if not hearts, with the man whom is to be your husband for the remainder of your days. A man that you don't know, who has no doubt been raised in his own right to be as stubborn and unyielding as you are. And, it is all right to be afraid. It is also all right to admit you have that fear. It does not make you any less of a princess, it just makes you human."
"I am afraid, Grandmother. I don't know why."
"It is unknown. It is human nature to fear the unknown. I will admit freely that my knees were like water and I could keep no food down the day of my wedding to your grandfather. Of course, to this day I am not certain if I more feared the wedding or the wedding night. Or the embarrassment of the wedding night." Ami's hands were given a gentle squeeze, "But, do not fret, you will have no such embarrassment.
"On my wedding night, my parents, and his, waited outside of the bridal chamber door. And when it was deemed that enough time had passed, they knocked three times. Three times only mind you, not nearly enough warning to modestly cover ourselves. They marched right in, and before my very horrified eyes proceeded to strip the bed and check the sheets, and your grandfather was only a noble, not the heir to a throne of his own."
"Sheets?" Ami frowned, not meaning to interrupt the old woman's story, but wondering what point she was trying to make. Damiar Roleran, while at times spoke cryptically, every word she said and every story she told had a meaning. Ami, unfortunately was at a loss to find the meaning behind this one.
The old woman peered quizzically at her, and patted her hands again, evidently not understanding the question. "This is one time when I have intervened to make certain that your wedding night goes smoothly. Things will be awkward enough, I think, without having your mother and His and Her Majesty entering the bridal chamber. No, that duty has been delegated to Nynie damiar and Halista, as the representative of House Loriag. They will be professional and discreet and buffer you from as much embarrassment as possible."
"Grandmother, I don't -- I don't understand." But she did. In the very far back corner of her mind, understanding was dawning. Understanding of things that she had heard about or read, or been taught in history classes. Understanding that she did not wish to have was very clearly, and very quickly beginning to settle into the fog in her brain and give clarity to Damiar Roleran's words.
"You don't under --" The Damiar paused and looked pointedly in the direction of Nynie and Sephrine, "Whatever have you been up to Nynie? I've never known you to be so lax in your instruction."
"Damiar," Nynie brought her hands together at her chest and bowed respectfully, "you know how temperamental and unpredictable Her Highness can be. I felt that the wedding day would be a suitable time to ... instruct ... her. Her mother did not know on her wedding night --"
"A mistake on my part, and one I am trying to remedy." She flicked her wrist in dismissal and tightened her grip on Ami's hands. "The sooner you understand this, the better for all of us involved."
"Understand what?" Ami heard the panic in her voice. She fought against the urge to jerk away from her grandmother and to run -- and swim -- all the way back to Albarasque if she had to. This could not be happening; she couldn't listen to this. She didn't *want* to listen to this. She was just beginning to accept, just beginning to cope ... this was too surreal to be real.
"This marriage is a contract, Amideira. It is the basis of a treaty that will end years of war and bloodshed between two countries. It has been years in the making, and it is important that this contract is one that is sealed, proven sealed so that we, and our people, may enjoy a new era of peace and prosperity."
"I know that! That's the whole point, I understand that and ... we've been talking about this. I accept it. I'm scared, but I accept it . . . I . . . "
"Amideira," the word was spoken so softly that she almost had to strain to hear it. And it was by virtue of its softness that it held command, that it stopped her raving and drew her attention. "Amideira, the marriage must consummated."
The words fell like ice water over her head and upon her shoulders. As long as they had remained unspoken, as long as they remained unsaid, she could pretend, within her mind that she didn't know what the woman was talking about. Before her grandmother said those words, Ami could have kept fooling herself, pretending that the talk about sheets and embarrassment meant nothing to her.
But they had been spoken, and there they were, laid out before her like . . . like yet another trap of duty and expectation that she could not escape.
She could not do this. She *would* not do this.
Even as Ami thought the words, they felt false to her. Like every other inevitability in this world, she knew that unless another odd portal opened up and dumped her back on the beach, this would be something she could not escape.
Ami didn't realize that she was shivering until she felt her grandmother pull her close, drawing her head down to her shoulder. The woman whispered soft words that fell upon deaf ears, "It's not that terrible, Ami dear. You'll see. It isn't that bad at all."
Ami said nothing, simply lay there, pretending to accept Damiar Roleran's comfort.
The woman had no idea how bad it truly was.
*** End of Chapter Twenty-Six
