AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I shrugged one shoulder. “He’s okay.”
“We’re going shopping today. Maybe if you show up in jeans and a T-shirt they will really be motivated to make you the best dresses. Because, honestly? These dresses suck ass. They have for a while.”
“Jeans and T-shirts work. Plus, I’d be less recognizable.” The ones my sis left were pretty worn, and I wasn’t feeling that brave. New would be a better choice.
Candace clapped. “Now we’re talking. Jeans and T-shirts and fuck all the men who think they can come here and just be with you because someone else said so. I mean, not fuck them. You know what I mean.”
Now it was me who had to refrain from peeing. That wouldn’t be very queenlike at all.
Chapter Eleven
When talking with Candace, or with Leif for that matter, it was easy to forget how limited my hearing was. Candace was expert in standing right in front of me and moving her lips in such a way I either got every word or was able to infer the few I missed from the others. All those years, while it became harder and harder to understand what was being said around me, Candace had been my only saving grace.
Leif was learning some of Candace’s skills, but he also possessed that low register I could still more or less hear. It wasn’t the only reason I liked him so well, but it made it more pleasant to converse. The new whiteboards were helpful, certainly, and the enthusiasm with which my subjects employed them could at times be overwhelming.
For example, as we rode to the village, Candace and I with Leif for escort, each farm we passed, people dashed down to the side of the road with whiteboards in hand, wishes for my good health or other kind comments scrawled on them. Even small children held them, displaying drawings of a queen by a castle—me, I assumed—dragons, wolves, and all sorts of other fanciful pictures for my approval.
I smiled and waved, but did not dismount or I’d never have made it to the village, and it was truly an important mission. Under the regency of Uncle Bors, I’d worn what appeared in my closet, clothes I felt confident had been found in a mail order catalogue calledLeftovers from the Fourteenth Century that Nobody Liked Even Then.Or perhaps they’d been from an attic in the castle somewhere, well-preserved because nobody liked them when they were made.
I could picture a long-ago queen glaring at the seamstress who brought her the mustard dress and yelling, “Off to the attic with this horror.” Because it made sense the pretty clothes would have been worn until they were worn out. Or at least worn with pleasure. The weather was beautiful, this early summer afternoon, crops growing in the fields, cattle enjoying the bright-green pasturelands. Chickens scattering as we came down the road because some farmers let them free during the day.
The kingdom was already looking more prosperous, but of course we had a long way to go. In the tradition of my parents, I had throne room hours set up where tenant farmers could approach us for boons. In this case, the boons would come from the excessive taxes, making it possible for my subjects, farmers, merchants, craftspeople, and anyone else to reach for a better standard of living if they were willing to work for it. First, I’d thought of just giving them all money, with no strings, but Leif had suggested it might be better to have them present something he called a “grant request” where they would explain what they planned to do with the money and how they would achieve it. If they did follow through, they would receive an additional sum to expand their original idea. If they did not, no harm, no foul, no more money.
“I’m thinking about the grant proposals,” I said, out of nowhere as we came to the edge of the village.
Leif nodded. “Go on.”
His voice shouldn’t be such a turn on. But I shivered anyway.Focus, Janis!What if someone needs help but doesn’t have a plan in place? We should have some of our own to offer, like say rejuvenating one of the abandoned farms or opening a new shop. And if they just aren’t up for a business, maybe we need a register of possible employment, like at the palace or one of the other businesses? Centralized so they don’t have to run all around looking for who might need a milkmaid or a seamstress.”
His smile told me everything I needed to know about his reaction to my suggestion.
The seamstress I planned to visit was new in the village, I was told, lured in by the rumors of improvements in the kingdom, and a couple of the women I’d visited were wearing things she’d stocked in her shop. I was very excited to visit her and see what she had on offer. I wanted to make some decisions for myself. I’d seen the store a couple of times while passing through on my way to meet with subjects, but this was a trip just for me.
As before the mannequins in the window wore casual but attractive outfits, and looked so comfortable and stylish. I couldn't wait to go in and have some made, but, to my astonishment, the “seamstress” was not making any clothes. Everything there came from factories far away. “So I can’t just ask you to make something like this in blue?” I held up a shirt, simple button-down but very soft cotton. “Or a size bigger?”
“Of course, Your Majesty.” She smiled. She wrote on the whiteboard she held.We can order from the manufacturer.The shopkeeper, whose name was Melissa, wore glasses with wide black frames, and at least six rings in each ear. And one in her eyebrow. Her arms were covered with sleeves which I suddenly realized were not fabric.
“Are…is that drawing on your skin?”
“Tattoos.” She extended them, taking care to mouth the word clearly.
I examined the leaves and flowers, the words twining into one another. “How beautiful.” I’d heard of tattooing of course, but never seen it up close. What if I got one? I could do my and Jillian’s names together and…
“Your Majesty?” Leif stuck his head in the door. “We don’t have much time left before you need to return for your appointment.”
The first time I had time just for myself, and duty called already. Stifling the annoyance, I rejoined Leif at the doorway. He gave me a look that told me he know I didn’t want to be rushed, but his job was to make sure I did my job the very best I could.
Across the street lay the seamstress, but I didn’t have time to shop anymore today, so I had Leif go in and ask the woman to attend me at the castle at her earliest convenience. I’d need some businesslike attractive clothes appropriate for doing my duty without looking like I was centuries out of date. As we rode away, I glanced back at Melissa’s shop with longing.
I’d be back. Soon.
Chapter Twelve
I often wondered what I’d done with my time before the ousting of Bors. Mostly sat alone in my tower with Candace looking out the window and dreaming of a future where I could actually do my job. Although my view was mostly of the castle grounds and the forests beyond, I could tell from those traveling the roads in the distance that things weren’t going well. People were dressed poorly, and their movements were slow, their animals poorly fed, nothing about them giving a feeling of prosperity for sure.
When I’d asked my uncle, he’d made excuses about poor harvests, insect infestations, lack of rain—although how he thought I was so stupid I didn’t notice the weather I’d never know—and, his favorite topic, lazy peasants.
One lie after another. My subjects were hard-working folk who suffered because he took far more than the crown’s share of their labors. So many moved away, but some stuck it out in hopes of a better day.
