There was a game Anladet used to play with Riyan, Aykati, and a few of the other street girls in Hanala when the days were the coldest, the food meager and the people meaner: “At Least I Don’t Have To”. They would stand around the barrel fire, warming their hands, and they would take turns salting the aristocratic life. “At least I don’t have to eat liver,” they’d say. “At least I don’t have to wear a corset.” “At least I don’t have to run a household.”

Anla smiled as she took her now familiar path from the atrium, up the stairs, and down several corridors to her apartments. She was an aristocrat now and she didn’t have to eat liver and someone else ran the household. She still had to wear a corset, though her waifish figure didn’t need much cinching and she had traded the whalebone one for something softer, to accommodate her growing belly when she finally showed, but it hadn’t been as bad as all the girls had said it would be.

“At least I don’t have to starve,” she told herself, as she had been telling herself more frequently. “At least I don’t have to run across Hanala in shoes with holes in them. At least I don’t have to…”

“Ah, she’s here, finally!” a portly man with slicked back peppery hair said. “Welcome, my queen. Please, come in and see what we have in store for you.”

She entered her room and saw there were three ladies, including an older woman the same age as the man, and dozens and dozens of dresses and fabrics strewn about the furniture. A folding screen was set in the corner, but that was the only privacy she’d have here.

“Dontreim, I presume?”

“As Your Highness says,” he said, bowing slightly. “Come, come, let me see how you are progressing.”

She walked to her bed and shucked her gloves, coat, and hat. Dontreim circled around her, clicking his tongue, though it didn’t quite remind her of how Caudin often did that when thinking. “Petite,” he said. “Very few curves. Small bossom.” He pinched the fabric around her sides. “She barely shows at three months.” He picked up her arm. “Warm tones, and dark skin, like a farmer. Meddem, if you would undress for me.”

Dontreim was one of the most sought after designers in Eri Ranvel, especially now that more people were seeing the economy turn. Caudin had mentioned this a few times before today’s visit. She gave him a small smile and stepped behind the folding screen as one of the women joined her to help. There was, at lease, a thin robe she could wear for a little warmth.

“Now, ‘dem, if I may ask, what did your people wear?”

“My people? The Arvonnese are my people.”

“Yes, but you were raised by your mother’s elvish people when you were younger, yes?”

“’Til I was ten.”

“What did they wear?”

She breathed a little easier as the woman picked out the laces of her corset. “It depended. In the cities, they wore clothing that was similar to the styles found in the larger cities of Gheny. Not hoop skirts, but bustles and petticoats.”

“How about outside of the cities?”

She paused, realizing where this was going. “Well, they made do with what was available. If they could trade for fabric, they would, or they’d barter for already made dresses.”

“Furs? Bone? Did you wear leaves, ‘dem?”

“Leaves? I don’t think there are any leaves strong enough to make into a dress.”

“No, of course not. But, perhaps as an accessory?”

“No. Sometimes we wore flowers, like I’ve seen Arvonnese children wear during spring and summer. We wore animal hides as blankets during colder times and to stop chaffing in armor, but not really as clothes.”

There was some loud sighing and murmuring on the other side of the partition. “’dem, I’m merely trying to discover what your personal style is. I can dress you like all the other ladies in Arvonne, but then you will never rise above them. The obvious advantage you have is your exotic heritage. Every lady in Arvonne will be envious of you, especially when they cannot imitate you. You will be a dream, a myth, a legend. And that’s what the elves are to us; stories we tell our children. Imagine taking some of that and reminding them constantly that you are from someplace mystical. What did you wear? What did the women wear?”

“I’m giving you honesty. Um, the dresses tended to be sleeker and the skirts swished more.”

“That helps.” As he spoke with his assistant, the other assistant peeled off her chemise and gasped, taking a moment to compose herself. “’dem, I’m thinking that we should highlight your back. Since you don’t have an ample bossom, ornate necklines may make you look childish. We can drop the line in the back to a demure point, perhaps introduce some jewelry for your pinned hair or the back. Step out, please, and I’ll see how that will work.”

She grabbed the robe and put it on quickly, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. She stepped out from behind the partition. “Excellent, ‘dem.” Dontreim hooked his finger on her collar and pulled down. “We can see…”

It was only a year’s worth of decorum lessons that kept her chin from dropping and her hands from pulling the robe up. She stood as still as marble. She knew what they were thinking; no one needed to say anything.

“Well,” Dontreim began, clearing his throat. “There is something to be said about tradition. On second thought, crisp lines for the decollatage would look becoming for the queen. There are other possibilities, too.”

He made a few suggestions, but they were half-hearted. He stopped waxing poetic about the mysticism of her people. It was as if all had heard terrible news all at once and their enthusiasm had died.

The experience left Anla in need of some solitude. The group packed all their things and left while she stayed in her room. She looked out the window and saw Garlin playing with a group of children, some game that involved a stick and following the command of whomever held it. He wasn’t holding it, but he was having so much fun that she laughed with him. It took her a few moments to blink away the tears before she rose from her seat and put her hand against the glass.

He seemed happy every time she’d seen him. His tutors said he was bright, though spirited and prone to daydreaming. He had been six when their parents had been hanged in front of them. Perhaps he hadn’t been old enough to remember. She didn’t want to ask and risk his mood breaking in the recollection. It was enough that she could hold a vigil to the graves in her mind, as Caudin had once spoke of about how he remembered his own family.

There was nothing on her agenda. Though she was still content with the child inside her, she had been excused from attending things normally assigned to the Queen. Caudin was inspecting the new headquarters of the dockworkers. Al had the day off and was taking a walk with Marnie. Alistad might be around, but she had seen her yesterday. She could find Telbarisk…

“… -n he looked at you,” she heard. It was an earlier echo of a conversation between a girl, no two girls by the giggling, likely her chambermaids. There was the sound of fabric being smoothed.

“He was just being nice,” the other girl said.

“I heard he’s nice to a lot of girls, if you know what I mean. Men tend to stray when their wives are pregnant. Ask Mirella. She’ll tell you.”

“She’s had a few married men?”

“No, I mean she’s warmed the King’s sheets.”

“But the King and Queen sleep together every night, like commoners. We wash and change these sheets every day for no reason.”

“I mean he found her in some quiet corridor and had his way with her.”

“Oh, is that where she got that ring from?”

“That’s what she says but wh….”

The voices faded as she stood still. She knew it for what is was, just idle gossip by girls who needed some theatrics in their days. But, that was her husband they spoke about. And while her mind trusted him, her heart had doubt. For every logical point she made, another would arise to question it.

She realized she had been standing there for five minutes arguing with herself. Walking. Alistad had said it was good to go for walks, to take in the fresh air. Walks were good for her and the baby.

After several corridors and a staircase, she was on the grounds. Dilvestrar was beautiful, even though some of the gardens were still fallow and places were in desperate need of repair. In places it felt like she had stumbled into a ruin, a quiet, barren place sadly bereft of meaning and use. There was one such place far from the main house, on the grounds opposite the entrance. It was easier to forget there that she was in the middle of a city of close to a million people.

It was the beginning of October and in Eri Ranvel that meant the leaves had just started to change. She followed a path to one of the old chapels, a small stone building dedicated to Magrithon that hadn’t seen any love in almost two decades. The trees were thicker here and a some red leaves had already fallen onto the remainders of the roof and inside.

Anla wondered why Caudin hadn’t spent the money to refurbish this chapel then recalled that the reason why it was so small was because it was redundant. The palace itself was considered the temple of Magrithon; this was available for private matters and never held a service of more than a dozen people. Devout Alscaines of the past prayed here and now it was forgotten.

She ducked under the door off its hinges, her soles crunching on broken glass and tile as she walked inside. It was modest, especially considering its patron deity, just six paces across and twelve down, two rows of pews and an altar on a dais. Of the four stained glass windows, none survived intact, though the one of Magrithon blessing his children had the least pieces missing.

Anla took one of the padded cushions from a pew and set it on the floor slightly to the left of center to avoid the caved in roof. She knelt and bowed her head, not knowing what to expect.

“I’m not sure how this works,” she said quietly. Her voice echoed against the stone and she realized it was a far broader declaration than she had intended. “I’m not sure how to be a queen. I know I am one of your children, but I didn’t know that before two years ago. Should I just know? Am I being a good queen? What does that mean? What can I do to do well in my position?”

Her voice fell to a whisper. “I…I think this is too much for me. I sometimes wish I could give it up, that Caudin could have another queen. But, then that means he would have another wife and…and…” She sniffled and brushed away her tears. “I know that he loves me, but I think he could love two women and I don’t want that.

“Mayasena is coming in a few days. She and Caudin were close as children. He’s excited, I can tell. I think…I think it would be best if they joined Arvonne to the Empire and if they ruled together. Maybe I could still be Queen of Arvonne and Caudin could be Emperor with Mayasena as Empress. I could still raise the future princes of Arvonne while he and the Empress have children for the Empire.” She smiled weakly. “Yes, I think that’s the best plan. I’ll speak with him about it. Thank you.”

That evening, when Caudin finally joined her in bed, she moved into his arm and put her head on his bare chest. “How was your day?” she asked.

“Busy, as always. Ten months and already the honeymoon is over. A few of the laborers’ guilds are demanding higher wages. I want to pay them more, but we still need taxes to come in before we can see if that’s even feasible. How about you?”

“Quieter than yours. I had my fitting with Dontreim today.”

“And did he figure out how to make my wife prettier than she already is?”

“Not exactly. I think he wanted to dress me in bark and leaves.”

Caudin laughed. “Pulling from your mother’s side? I don’t think I saw a single leaf on anyone’s body, though some of those women maybe should’ve been wearing more. Not that I was allowed to explore how much they were wearing and if I could get them to wear less; you blocked me from all attempts. You gave me some paltry excuse, but I’m beginning to think you were jealous.”

“I’ll admit it, since we’re a very large ocean away. I had a number of inquiries, too, but I said that you couldn’t take off your mask. A few were still interested and I said that you were a eunich.”

He laughed loudly at that. “You minx. I don’t think it would’ve been worth it anyhow. So, no barks and leaves for you. What did he dress you in?”

“I don’t know. I think he had these great plans that I foiled.”

“Foiled? How?”

“He wanted to show off my back.”

“Ah.” He kissed the top of her head. “Ainle, no one is ever going to understand that. I won’t lie and say it looks appealing, just as I’m sure my back looks gruesome, but to me it is one of the most beautiful things in the world. As a child I had guards that would have given their life for mine, but that was their job. I’d never had someone say that I, me, was worth dying for, someone who knew exactly what I had done in my life and felt that I was still worthy of sacrifice. I’m sorry this world judges people that way. I don’t.”

“I know. Still, he seemed annoyed that I wasn’t willing to be a savage, half-naked queen.”

“I’m sure he wasn’t going to do that. He knows what is expected of you. Just tell him what you want, like…like that dress you wore to the libertine ball. You picked that out, yes?” She nodded. “Damn near stopped my heart when I saw you. You definitely took my breath away.”

She smiled, though he couldn’t see it, feeling better. “I will. Out of curiosity, do you know a Mirella?”

“Mirella…Is she one of the maids?”

“Yes,” she said.

“I think so. She’s the one with the curly hair and the loose tongue. Why?”

Anla’s smile wavered. “I think I heard she was with child,” she lied.

“Oh? One of the valets? That’s up to you what you want to do with her. If you want to look the other way or if you only want moral girls that don’t have children out of wedlock, I’ll let you decide.”

“Does it bother you, that she’s pregnant?”

“No. I’m not going to judge people living the life I have. I’ll leave it to you.”

It wasn’t a denial, but from his tone she couldn’t place anything like guilt or worry. “I’m sure it’s just a rumor. I complain about those girls chattering and here I am doing it myself.”

“It’s good to talk about something major like that. I hope it winds up just being gossip and you don’t need to deal with it.”

She nuzzled next to him, feeling a lot better than she had earlier. “Are you excited that Mayasena will be here in tomorrow?”

“Yes! You don’t know how excited I am to see her again. I have so many things to tell her, to share with her…”

He began telling her stories about when they were little, about times when he had visited Kinto and she had visited Arvonne. At first she was happy that he had a friend he was going to see after decades apart. But the more he spoke, the more she realized how well suited Caudin and Mayasena would be at ruling together. She tuned out the stories and began to think more about her function as a queen that stayed in the background, raising the princes while Caudin stayed in Kinto with his other wife. She felt her pulse quicken and her chest tighten, but she knew that it had to be that way.

“Ainle? Are you still awake?” he asked.

She slowed her breathing, pretending to avoid discussing with him the decision that needed to be made. Tomorrow. Mayasena would be here and they could discuss it then. For now, she could be in his arms one more time…