Time passed, as it tends to do. I had explained to Daddy why I had ordered
the execution of Baron Silverin and his henchmen and then waited, tensely,
for what he would say. I expected that he would either crush me in a hug
and tell me everything would be okay or that he would give me his sternest
look and scold me on the injustice of taking another human's life.
Instead he sat down heavily on a padded chair, and for the first time I could remember my daddy looked old. Old and tired and bent with the weight of the world on his grieving shoulders. It made me nervous and scared, almost more scared than I had been the night before. My daddy was larger than life! He wasn't supposed to be an ordinary frail mortal. Was it my fault for disappointing him by ordering an execution when our traditions are to rehabilitate criminals? The man who murdered my mother had lived for a year in the castle dungeons before someone broke in and killed him with a freeze arrow through the heart. I've always wondered if my sister decided to impose justice in her own form before running into the night again.
When he spoke, his voice was hoarse and low, and I could see tears that would not be shed glazing his eyes. "It's always a proud moment when a child surpasses the parent, but I wish- I wish that I was a better man, a more complete one, so that I could do what needs to be done." He sighed heavily and pulled me towards him, his head on a level with my stomach as he hugged me close. "My precious daughter, you will be a better ruler than your old father."
This did NOT sound like Daddy. Where were the buckets of emotional tears, the loud voice, the overwhelming and enfolding bear hug that always made me feel protected and cherished? "Don't talk like that, Daddy. You're a great ruler, and you're not old."
He smiled, the corners of his mouth turning up and in and making his mustache bristle. "No, I'm not old yet, and I do my best to rule in a peaceful and just manner." He reached up and ruffled my hair and I sat down on his knee, relieved to see some of my daddy's normal cheer return.
After a moment of hugging, he pulled me back slightly so he could look in my eyes. I sobered at the seriousness of that look, the same look that had accompanied his explanation to me long ago about what my position as heir entailed. "Amelia, I wish I could let your childhood continue, but your taking up the scepter and dealing with Silverin has shown that you are capable of taking up more of the duties of ruling."
I would have spoken, probably to say something childish, like 'I'm not a child', but he continued. "I hate politics. If I hadn't met your mother, I would have renounced the throne and become a wandering priest. I don't regret for one moment the decision I made, because it brought me your mother and Gracia and you. I have tried to do my best for the kingdom, and I hope I'll be able to do more good before it's time for me to be with your mother again."
He smiled again, this time a rueful grin that seemed out of place on my super confident daddy. "The thing is, Melly, I have some faults. I can't stand the thought of killing, even if sometimes it's what should be done. I'm sometimes impulsive, and I get the urge to wander sometimes, even though the council would much prefer a ruler who stays in one place."
I nodded absently, trying to figure out what he was getting towards. "You're also a lousy judge of character, and you don't read enough of the proclamations you sign, and you forget things when you get enthusiastic, and...."
I broke off when his rumbling laugh burst forth, almost knocking me off his lap. "Spare a kind thought to your poor old father, Amelia, and stop to take a breath while listing my flaws." I blushed and looked down, embarrassed by having criticized so much without thinking about it. He put his hand under my chin and lifted my face so that I looked into his loving, happy eyes. "What do you say, Amelia? Are you ready to take on all these boring administrative duties that make the kingdom run?"
I hesitated. "You're not stepping down, are you?"
He laughed, a big booming belly laugh that was so infectious I couldn't resist laughing with him. "No, not for many years to come. Someday, when you're ready and you want me to, I will, but for now I want you to take on more responsibility so that you're ready to be the best ruler Saillune has ever had when it is the right time."
I had laughed and agreed, throwing my arms around him and calling him the best daddy ever. True to his word, he'd turned over more and more of the day to day running of the kingdom to me. At first he supervised me closely to ensure I didn't make any mistakes that would hurt our people, but gradually he had stepped back to let me take more and more control. As the weeks passed and turned into months, I discovered something I had never suspected about myself.
I loved politics.
Every backstabbing, double dealing, underhanded and conniving minute of it. Crooked council members were _nothing_ compared to Lina trying to get a free meal. Explaining a proposed law to a bored audience was worlds easier than explaining to Gourry what had happened the day before. As for diplomacy, no one, but no one, could equal the stone face that I had learned from Zelgadis. To someone who had faced down Dark Lords, a peasant uprising was child's play.
Most of the suitors had disappeared. The few that had remained were mostly nice, and made sure they paid their bills on time. I had made a point of spending some time with each one at least once a week, scrupulously upholding my promise to allow myself to be courted. Still, with each one I would find myself thinking of Zelgadis, wishing it were his hand bringing me flowers, his hand holding mine while dancing.
The best, or worst, was William. I liked him very much. He had a dry sense of humor that made me fight to keep a straight face when the joke went over other people's heads, but he also had a sense of the ridiculous that let him pretend to be a cat while playing with some of the servants' children. Instead of presenting bouquets of roses, he would surprise me with a pot of violets that mysteriously appeared in my room, or a bunch of tulips and daffodils snagged while walking through the gardens. He was always careful to be respectful of my position while making me feel like he saw me, not my title. I got to know his quirky smile like it was my own, for his face was always radiating genuine good cheer. He would be an excellent Prince Consort, and Daddy and Uncle Christopher genuinely liked him.
I wondered often why I didn't love him.
He was nicer than Zelgadis. I believe he would cut out his own tongue before he spoke harshly to me. He treated me like a delicate flower, while respecting my authority and independence. If considered dispassionately, he was handsomer than Zelgadis; he was taller, his muscles better defined, with a firm square jaw and features that the court painter had described as exquisite. I should have been in love with him, sighing over his every move.
Instead I dreamed about a man with blue stone for skin who had never given me a single flower, never once said that he cared about me. Zelgadis had never made me any promises, and as the time slipped by I wondered whether he would come within the year I had given him, and what I would do if he didn't. Could I marry William when my heart didn't race and skip a beat when he was near? Would the affection and liking I felt be enough, or would it breed hatred because his love wasn't returned full measure?
I regretted my ultimatum, because I knew in my heart I could not even think about marrying anyone else when my heart and soul cried for a man who hates himself so much he doesn't see that he's loved. It wouldn't be fair, to Zelgadis, to William, or to me. And so I wait, filling my days with duty and hope. There's still a little time for him to come, and I have important things to do.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Where would we be without an author's note? Stara Maijka remains a truly wonderful person, and I hope she never tells me to stop sending her stuff. Majo-chan, SpaceElf, Ryo and Kelly-chan all calmed me down when I started freaking out about characterization, and their help is much appreciated. I've been obsessed with IRC and downloading new anime lately, so my writing has suffered, but I'm getting back to it. Being threatened with pointy farm implements will do that...
This fic is dedicated to Lauren-sama, who has reviewed each and every one of my Slayers fics, and is truly great about leaving reviews for others. The fact that she's _also_ a good writer with a deft touch for light Z/A romantic comedy is a bonus. Thanks, Lauren/Missitar, for being so cool.
Instead he sat down heavily on a padded chair, and for the first time I could remember my daddy looked old. Old and tired and bent with the weight of the world on his grieving shoulders. It made me nervous and scared, almost more scared than I had been the night before. My daddy was larger than life! He wasn't supposed to be an ordinary frail mortal. Was it my fault for disappointing him by ordering an execution when our traditions are to rehabilitate criminals? The man who murdered my mother had lived for a year in the castle dungeons before someone broke in and killed him with a freeze arrow through the heart. I've always wondered if my sister decided to impose justice in her own form before running into the night again.
When he spoke, his voice was hoarse and low, and I could see tears that would not be shed glazing his eyes. "It's always a proud moment when a child surpasses the parent, but I wish- I wish that I was a better man, a more complete one, so that I could do what needs to be done." He sighed heavily and pulled me towards him, his head on a level with my stomach as he hugged me close. "My precious daughter, you will be a better ruler than your old father."
This did NOT sound like Daddy. Where were the buckets of emotional tears, the loud voice, the overwhelming and enfolding bear hug that always made me feel protected and cherished? "Don't talk like that, Daddy. You're a great ruler, and you're not old."
He smiled, the corners of his mouth turning up and in and making his mustache bristle. "No, I'm not old yet, and I do my best to rule in a peaceful and just manner." He reached up and ruffled my hair and I sat down on his knee, relieved to see some of my daddy's normal cheer return.
After a moment of hugging, he pulled me back slightly so he could look in my eyes. I sobered at the seriousness of that look, the same look that had accompanied his explanation to me long ago about what my position as heir entailed. "Amelia, I wish I could let your childhood continue, but your taking up the scepter and dealing with Silverin has shown that you are capable of taking up more of the duties of ruling."
I would have spoken, probably to say something childish, like 'I'm not a child', but he continued. "I hate politics. If I hadn't met your mother, I would have renounced the throne and become a wandering priest. I don't regret for one moment the decision I made, because it brought me your mother and Gracia and you. I have tried to do my best for the kingdom, and I hope I'll be able to do more good before it's time for me to be with your mother again."
He smiled again, this time a rueful grin that seemed out of place on my super confident daddy. "The thing is, Melly, I have some faults. I can't stand the thought of killing, even if sometimes it's what should be done. I'm sometimes impulsive, and I get the urge to wander sometimes, even though the council would much prefer a ruler who stays in one place."
I nodded absently, trying to figure out what he was getting towards. "You're also a lousy judge of character, and you don't read enough of the proclamations you sign, and you forget things when you get enthusiastic, and...."
I broke off when his rumbling laugh burst forth, almost knocking me off his lap. "Spare a kind thought to your poor old father, Amelia, and stop to take a breath while listing my flaws." I blushed and looked down, embarrassed by having criticized so much without thinking about it. He put his hand under my chin and lifted my face so that I looked into his loving, happy eyes. "What do you say, Amelia? Are you ready to take on all these boring administrative duties that make the kingdom run?"
I hesitated. "You're not stepping down, are you?"
He laughed, a big booming belly laugh that was so infectious I couldn't resist laughing with him. "No, not for many years to come. Someday, when you're ready and you want me to, I will, but for now I want you to take on more responsibility so that you're ready to be the best ruler Saillune has ever had when it is the right time."
I had laughed and agreed, throwing my arms around him and calling him the best daddy ever. True to his word, he'd turned over more and more of the day to day running of the kingdom to me. At first he supervised me closely to ensure I didn't make any mistakes that would hurt our people, but gradually he had stepped back to let me take more and more control. As the weeks passed and turned into months, I discovered something I had never suspected about myself.
I loved politics.
Every backstabbing, double dealing, underhanded and conniving minute of it. Crooked council members were _nothing_ compared to Lina trying to get a free meal. Explaining a proposed law to a bored audience was worlds easier than explaining to Gourry what had happened the day before. As for diplomacy, no one, but no one, could equal the stone face that I had learned from Zelgadis. To someone who had faced down Dark Lords, a peasant uprising was child's play.
Most of the suitors had disappeared. The few that had remained were mostly nice, and made sure they paid their bills on time. I had made a point of spending some time with each one at least once a week, scrupulously upholding my promise to allow myself to be courted. Still, with each one I would find myself thinking of Zelgadis, wishing it were his hand bringing me flowers, his hand holding mine while dancing.
The best, or worst, was William. I liked him very much. He had a dry sense of humor that made me fight to keep a straight face when the joke went over other people's heads, but he also had a sense of the ridiculous that let him pretend to be a cat while playing with some of the servants' children. Instead of presenting bouquets of roses, he would surprise me with a pot of violets that mysteriously appeared in my room, or a bunch of tulips and daffodils snagged while walking through the gardens. He was always careful to be respectful of my position while making me feel like he saw me, not my title. I got to know his quirky smile like it was my own, for his face was always radiating genuine good cheer. He would be an excellent Prince Consort, and Daddy and Uncle Christopher genuinely liked him.
I wondered often why I didn't love him.
He was nicer than Zelgadis. I believe he would cut out his own tongue before he spoke harshly to me. He treated me like a delicate flower, while respecting my authority and independence. If considered dispassionately, he was handsomer than Zelgadis; he was taller, his muscles better defined, with a firm square jaw and features that the court painter had described as exquisite. I should have been in love with him, sighing over his every move.
Instead I dreamed about a man with blue stone for skin who had never given me a single flower, never once said that he cared about me. Zelgadis had never made me any promises, and as the time slipped by I wondered whether he would come within the year I had given him, and what I would do if he didn't. Could I marry William when my heart didn't race and skip a beat when he was near? Would the affection and liking I felt be enough, or would it breed hatred because his love wasn't returned full measure?
I regretted my ultimatum, because I knew in my heart I could not even think about marrying anyone else when my heart and soul cried for a man who hates himself so much he doesn't see that he's loved. It wouldn't be fair, to Zelgadis, to William, or to me. And so I wait, filling my days with duty and hope. There's still a little time for him to come, and I have important things to do.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Where would we be without an author's note? Stara Maijka remains a truly wonderful person, and I hope she never tells me to stop sending her stuff. Majo-chan, SpaceElf, Ryo and Kelly-chan all calmed me down when I started freaking out about characterization, and their help is much appreciated. I've been obsessed with IRC and downloading new anime lately, so my writing has suffered, but I'm getting back to it. Being threatened with pointy farm implements will do that...
This fic is dedicated to Lauren-sama, who has reviewed each and every one of my Slayers fics, and is truly great about leaving reviews for others. The fact that she's _also_ a good writer with a deft touch for light Z/A romantic comedy is a bonus. Thanks, Lauren/Missitar, for being so cool.