Alphan has a minion!

Beitan the Dandilion

Serma couldn't rule a nation and a household. Hiding her condition for nine months hadn't been too difficult. Enough ruffled layers will hide almost any flaw and an empress is expected to set the fashions that will make seamstresses smile.

She'd entrusted the relocation of the twins to their father before banishing him on pain of death. Living with the knowledge that he languished on some deserted island was painful but necessary. He would never tempt her to make the same mistake twice.

She didn't know the names of her own daughters.

She'd burned her lover's portrait and the letters he had written by hand. She'd forbidden her maids to ever use his name in her presence. She'd even gone so far as to tear out every page of her diary containing his name but she could not prevent him from visiting her dreams.

*****

Aliane held up the rose-colored satin dress, admired herself in the looking glass, dipping a curtsey and practicing her best flirty smile. She was finally at the point where she could wear real ball gowns without looking ridiculous.

If only there was a ball tonight. Aliane sighed and set the beautiful dress aside for a more practical garment. The fawn gown boasted clear-cut lines and gold trim at the sleeves, with just a few seed pearls at the collar for decoration. It would not do to appear in anything flashy on Council Day.

Auntie insisted she attend the affairs of state every week, despite the fact that the lengthy debates bored her to tears. Auntie kept insisting that if a woman like Serma could rise to the rank of Alphan, there was no reason Aliane couldn't aspire to do the same.

She didn't want to lead anyone. She would much rather be led around the ballroom floor on the arm of a handsome noble.

Most of the attendants were stuffy ancients who rarely cracked a smile. Aliane fidgeted on the hard wooden bench, trying without much success to find a comfortable position and ignoring Auntie's dirty looks. Her back would be one great ache by the end of the day.

They rose as the Alphan's arrival was announced. Serma looked resplendent in a layered emerald gown with golden lace woven into the shape of their nation's eight-pointed star. She glided the length of the room, nodding to those courtiers she passed without favoring any particular one.

Aliane tried to pay attention to the petitioners. She really did try. One could only take so much interest in sick cattle and stretches of disputed land with nothing more glorious than stretches of muddy field.

The ambassador's son a few seats to her left was a point of much greater interest.

The lazy smile spreading over his face was a sign he'd noticed her glances. The dance of his fingers told a story only noble eyes could read. He would meet her beside Victory Fountain at the height of the seventh evening hour. She returned his smile, fingers dancing an acceptance of his terms.

*****

Allond shivered as she hurried to dress. Lorienne would spare no expense on gowns or fancy feasts for her friends but could not be bothered to put so much as modern heat vents in the quarters of her servants.

She ran the length of the narrow stone corridor, taking the stairs three at a time to reach the main floor. She nearly collided with a kitchen maid in her rush to reach her lady's bath chamber before Lorienne woke. Her last mistress had dismissed her for failing to draw a warm enough bath.

Allond could not afford to lose another job.

People never wanted her kind of brutal honesty. They wanted syrupy lies that painted them as rivals to the Alphan's beauty.

Allond despises flattery. If your dress makes you look like a walrus with a terrible skin disease, you can rely on her to tell you so.

She hurried to scatter a dozen red rose petals over the water's surface as Lorienne entered. The fair lady's golden curls were tousled from eleven hours in bed.

"Bring my tea to the balcony overlooking the rose garden and do see to it Marietta uses cream instead of milk this time."

Allond curtsied, grateful her ugly servant dress hid her wobbly knees. "Yes, Lady." She could hear Lorienne splashing about as she departed, singing some silly song about three little ducks. The refined daughter of of the Count of Red Lake was anything but in her private chambers.

Allond took a sip from the porcelain cup, taking great care to wipe the rim clean so Lorienne would never know. In her opinion, it was a cup of liquid sunshine. Lorienne would send it back almost untouched, complaining that it was too hot or too cold. It didn't take much to displease the lady of Swan Cove.

Two hours went into helping Lorienne try on gowns and jewels. Allond shifted from one foot to the other in her impatience. They would be the last ones to arrive at court again and once again Allond would have to settle for whatever cramped corner she could fit into. Unlike most of the servants kept in waiting, she wanted to be able to hear the Alphan. She knew she should find such mundane conversation as the going rate of cloth bolts boring but she just never tired of learning how the government was run.

Lorienne demanded the chestnut team be exchanged for the gray pair to better match her outfit. Even the lowly Baron of Swallow Lake beat them into the Council Chamber.

Allond moved to join the maids at the back of the room. Palace servants were a generous lot, providing small cakes and tea for those women forced to wait on the pleasure of their mistresses.

She did her best to ignore the dirty looks of the other girls. All had felt the lash of her tongue at some point.

She strained her ears to hear those judgments being passed. Serma looked like a flower, but the woman had her thorns. Allond's secret desire was to meet the Alphan just once, to speak to her directly for even a few minutes. She had tried and failed to gain a position at the Palace. Twice.

Third time's the charm, or so the tired old saying claims.

*****

Serma's private garden was her sanctuary, a place only she could access with a very special silver key. Jes had given it to her, tracing the heart on top with his finger and claiming she held his most vital organ in her hands.

She'd shattered her own heart the day she banished him.

She grew herbs for lotions and tonics, practical plants for a practical lady. There was only one flower allowed to thrive that could be called decorative. The little patch of golden flowers were shaped like golden bells. Jes had a voice like golden bells; one so enchanting it had tainted her former love of singing birds. The golden cage she'd kept since childhood had held no occupant in many years.

She worked until her regal brow was damp with sweat despite the chill breeze. Winter would come all too soon and rob her of her sanctuary for many months. She had to cherish every moment of the green world she could get.

The moon was rising when she slipped the key in place and shed her dirty smock.

She paused beneath the rose arch which would allow her to enter the public gardens, studying the noble girl who sat on the rim of Victory Fountain and wept.

A servant girl rounded the hedge on the other side of the clearing, freezing as the noble girl looked up.

What are you doing here? Servants belong in the waiting chamber."

Allond bristled at Aliane's tone. "Last time I checked, the Alphan's Gardens were open to all her people, not just the snobs."

"Walk the other way, then. You're not wanted here."

Allond plopped down with a smug grin. "I'd love to see you make me leave without calling your daddy's hired guards. You probably can't lift your perfumed kerchief to your nose without aid."

Aliane hurled a small stone into the water. "My parents didn't want me, just like the boy who stood me up. They left me for Auntie without as much as a letter."

"At least yours cared enough to leave you with nobles. Mine dumped me at an orphan house."

Serma could stand and listen to such youthful talk all night, if not for the obligations that forbid such idleness. The girls were awe-struck as the Alphan passed, offering them a little nod as she turned toward the Palace.

They both had the same deep blue eyes Serma had nearly drowned in every time she looked at Jes.

She gave her head a shake at such fanciful thoughts. It was no more than she deserved for trying to live in memories of Jes rather than simply living.

Pet profile by Paula
Story by PureflowerBackground image by pixabay