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His father
spoke, his voice deep and gruff, the smile clear in his
tones.
“
Prince Dittander and
Princess Dittany of House Rosalind, your family welcomes you to the
world.
”

Mera stretched upon the grass, soft spikes
cushioning her pleasantly aching body, her vision was narrowed to
the swaying tips of green, peppered with tufted seed heads. One
particularly rotund one gave up its burden with a shiver and she
watched the soft white umbrellas drift away across the periwinkle
blue sky. It was vast and void of any clouds, the golden sunlight
setting the blue hue ablaze. She almost fancied that if she lost
touch of the earth she would fall endlessly into that abyss.

Sometimes she
felt like that when she gazed into
Cerid
’
s eyes, but they were
dark, not blue. If ever she did succumb to that urge she
didn
’
t think it would be as
pleasant as falling through the sky, in those depths there was
knowledge and secrets and sorrow. Betimes she thought she must have
lived a hard life, typical of any peasant women, but then she would
look at her more closely and know there was far more to her than
that. She would catch a glimmer of her true nature, but as yet she
had been too afraid to ask.

It was a
strange relationship, theirs. Mera felt safe in her presence.
Almost she could feel herself growing, her mind expanding. That
morning Cerid had met her in the rowan copse just before dawn,
sunlight merely a pale grey breath on the horizon, an they had
walked deep into the woods in silence. Before Cerid had taught her
how to listen, to recognize the sounds of the animals, to know the
difference between the sound of a branch falling to that of one
being trod upon. The tramp and skitterings of various animals, and
the calls of birds. In times of silence she was told to listen. But
that morning had been different, once they set out they soon
settled into a comfortable rhythm, the dawn chorus started up in
earnest and Mera listened. She lost track of time, and gradually it
seemed to her that she could hear something other, the trees gentle
sighs, the creep of vines, the small movements of the little plants
as their flowers turned to face the rising sun. The brighter it
got, the louder it became, as if the forest had become one entity
crying out in welcome to the dawning sun. She felt herself an
abnormality at first, then the more she listened the more she
felt
…
accepted.

Unwittingly she had stopped, lost in
contemplation. Inside she felt as if she too was unfolding, turning
to greet the sun.

After some time she came back to herself, it
was full morning and the forest had settled into its usual self.
Cerid was sitting patiently nearby, watching her. Mera blinked and
took a breath to apologize but Cerid smiled serenely, and she knew
she had pleased her.

The rest of their time together went much as
it usually did, Cerid taught her the names of the various plants,
and their uses, pointing out many that they had already seen in
different stages over the months. Currently she was teaching her
the best times to harvest, how to store the herbs once picked.
Another day Cerid had led her to a wounded badger, who seemed not
at all bothered by their presence, and showed her how to poultice a
wound. The various different types, each aimed to combat different
things. For the badger they used one aimed to fight infection and
seal the wound as soon as possible. Cerid had told her that soon
when she would harvest, she must try to be in the state of
unfolding.

Even now she felt that state just at her
finger tips.

“
Mer!
Mer!
”

She smiled as that burbling shout broke the
peace, calling for her to return. Sitting up she looked across the
meadow. In the middle a silken pavilion, cream and maroon, had been
set up. Ringed about with liveried guards, the lush green forest in
the background. She had barely seen her mother lately, what with
her own studies and her mother looking after the twins. She knew it
was much the same for Llew and his father. Hence today. Their
highnesses had decided to have a family picnic, and had chosen a
glorious summer day. Mera made her way through the vivid haze
toward them.

Inside little
Dittander sat amidst a pile of cushions, waving his plump fists and
smiling beatifically at her entrance, two tiny little teeth sitting
in that gummy smile.
“
Merrrrr
”
He burbled
happily. Sitting down she looked to see where Dittany was. Although
twins it seemed they each wanted completely different things. When
the were newborns they had done everything together, learning to
sit up at the same time. They had all loved to watch them roll on
round bottoms, holding onto one another for balance. But there the
similarities had ended, soon Dittander started to speak, surprising
everyone with
“
mama
”
, now he had
all the families names. Dittany showed no signs of talking, but had
quickly learned how to move. Soon enough she was crawling
everywhere, coming back to Dittander to touch him, and then
escaping once again.

Llew was
piling soft tasselled cushions in her way, creating mountains for
her to scramble up and roll down, his face flushed and laughing as
he thrust his hair away from his face. The king sat with Dittander,
both clapping at their romping. Her mother sat a little back from
the them watching with a tired, content look in her eyes. She
plucked juicy strawberries from a bowl of beaten gold and sipped
chilled white wine. She looked to Mera and beckoned her to sit by
her feet.
“
How are you
faring?
”

“
I
’
m well
mama.
”

“
We have
heard good reports from Tomas. He says you are attentive and
intelligent, an apt pupil. I
’
m proud of you, but you must take cares to be more
ladylike. There are fairies in your hair.
”

So saying she plucked them up, and gently
blew them out of the tent, her slim face limned in light, glowing
coils of hair gently framing her face. To Mera her beauty, her
elegance, made her words sting even more. She would never be as
graceful as her mother. Her mother turned back to the tent with a
smile for her and it helped to calm the resentments.

King
Gaillardia swung Dittander up into the air, causing a torrent of
giggles and screeches before depositing him in
Mera
’
s lap.
“
It
’
s a pity the same could not be said for you, Llew. Tomas
says that you are more than able, but less than willing. Still.
This is the last warning you will get, I want to see
improvements.
”

“
But Papa! I
am improving, Captain Madder says
…
.
”

“
I know what
Captain Madder says, but that is not the subject under question, is
it?
”

“
No,
Papa
…”

“
Good,
I
’
m glad you understand. I
have heard of your skills, son. Shall we put them to the test?
It
’
s a fine day, you can
show me the new parry you were talking of.
”

“
Yes,
Papa!
”

Llew ran out
to get the practise swords, King Gaillardia strolling after him
with a proud look upon his face. Her mother sighed and gathered up
Dittany, who had already started to crawl after them, and they both
carried the babies outside. Already Llew had got the servants to
clear an area, and was now limbering up, regaling his father with
some lengthy story of his practise lessons. Soon enough they were
both ready and facing one another, the servants stood around to
enjoy the show, and to offer refreshments if necessary. Llew looked
tiny next to his father. Although tall for his age and wiry, he
barely came up to his chest and looked like a twig next to a tree.
They had only just tested one
another
’
s guarde, before
pausing so the king could adjust
Llew
’
s grip with some advice
on what oils to use on the sword, and balms on the hand. Mera lost
interest and let her attention wander. Which was soon taken by the
sight of a rider coming over a hill and heading toward them a fast
clip. The rider wore the House colours of a royal messenger, it
must be important to interrupt the picnic. With much muttering the
gathered party watched the rider bearing down on them.

“
My King! My
Queen!
”
Out of breath the
rider bowed from the saddle and passed the King a sealed missive,
the wax still tacky. Which the King quickly broke, and scanned the
contents, murmured something to her mother who replied in
undertones, before turning back to the messenger and handing him
his signet ring.
“
Tell Navew
to call the Closed Council, the Queen and I shall attend
anon.
”

With a final
brisk bow the messenger wheeled his mount sharply and cantered back
towards the castle. Soon enough the King and Queen were surrounded
by their personal staff, whilst the other servants bustled about
taking down the pavilion. A nursemaid came and took Dittander from
Mera
’
s arms, and it seemed
to her that the absence of his warmth felt very much like her
mother leaving again. She stole a look at Llew who was staring
after his father with the look of a hungry puppy. Catching her
looking he made a rude gesture.

The King and
Queen had already mounted up, bridles gleaming against prize
horseflesh and velvet. Her mother was giving orders to the
nursemaids, a slight frown marring her beauty. The King looked to
their children, his eyes gone dark with his mood.
“
I am sorry this as been cut short,
Llew, we shall finish our bout another day. Jessamine and I will
ride ahead, you both shall return with the
others
…
this will make more
sense later. Knowing court gossips, not as later as I would
like
…
but still.
Adieu.
”

And with that they were gone, the family day
out over. Llew looked furious, at being left out no doubt. At least
his father had bothered to say goodbye, her mother had only been
concerned with the babies, as usual. Biting her lip as guilt
flashed through her.

The Oculus was astir with rumour, eddies of
curiosity stirring through the gently mingling throngs of people
occupying the echoing space. Vents and doors had been wedged open
to coax any stray zephyrs to cool the humid summer heat, shafts of
golden sunlight piercing the cool recesses in which gauzy draped
women lounged in padded couches and demure servants offered
refreshment, and dandies posed nearby. The lulling notes of harps
mingled with the burbling fountains in the Gardens beyond to create
a veil of confidence over the murmur of conversation.

The King and Queen had passed by not so long
ago, to the Little Council Chamber, at their heels the Lord General
Karse had clanked, coiffed hair and armour gleaming. The High
Priestess Vervain and Anise, her consort, followed. She serenely
gliding, her sleeveless white gown fluttering, the jewellery of her
prestigious rank warmly glowing in various golds. He stalking at
her side, muscled chest bare, oak green kilt tied about his waist,
garlands in his hair. A closed court was announced by Navew, the
whipcord thin Keeper of the Seal, his ever present harried
expression in place as he struck the beaten bronze gong once.

In their wake the nobles had flown, Tomas
caught up with them. As he surveyed the hall he felt bemusement at
the peculiarities of Danuans. Rather than be perturbed by such an
unexpected meeting, a meeting of the most powerful people in this
court, indeed this nation, they treated it as an impromptu fete.
Whiling away the time with refreshments and delicacies, whilst they
gossiped about the cause. All Houses currently at court were
represented, none would be seen to be behind the times. Nor miss
out an opportunity to test out the balance of a rivals perspective,
or a possible alliance.

The general consensus was that it must be
about the Empire. The solidly built veterans of Arabis House, of
course, thought perhaps the King had finally decided to crush
Aummor. Or at least hopefully declaimed such views, blue tendrils
of smoking herbs drifting past hard, penetrating dark eyes. Lord
Caderos of House Twining Ivy listened but kept his own council.
Captain Madder gruffly nodded, his eyes scanning the room, knights
young and old at their backs.

With
amusement Tomas noted the presence of the head of House Dahlia
languishing resplendent in scarlet silk with ebony hair coiled
about her head, casting sultry and speculative glances at those who
waited attendance on her. Dracaena
’
s gaze shifted occasionally to the infamous and single Lord
Knight Caderos. It was well known her eldest daughter was ripe for
marriage, and the hot house blooms Dahlia had a reputation for
exotic beauty, and sly wit at trading.