Queen-stone (provisional)
an excerpt

“Well”, said Claudi, under her breath, “Here it comes, the moment of truth.”
In the last year, Claudi had grown less than a finger’s width, and was therefore of age: no longer just little Claudi, but the eldest princess of Nabolin, a grown woman.
However, like all grown women she must marry.
She looked again at herself in the mirror, aware of the fact that she was nothing like as pretty as her mother or younger sisters: all blonde curls and summer-sky blue eyes. Claudi’s own hair was pale brown, and so straight you could have used it to draw lines. Her eyes were pale green, rather than fashionably emerald. She sighed and put on a necklace, adjusting it to hang in the hollow at her throat, which was just showing above the square neckline of her dress.
All in all, she thought, she was quite lucky. Many princesses much prettier than her ended up married to ugly old men that they had never even met. At least she knew Prince Erik, though she did not like him much.
Hopefully, he would have grown up a little since she last saw him. At least he would be less likely to push her in the fishpond, catapult rotten tomatoes at her or allow his tree house to collapse on her.
She laughed a little at her own folly. Very well, maybe that last one had been her own fault, but he had undoubtedly provoked her.
She perched her glasses on the end of her nose and considered her reflection. She intended to wear this same gown when she met Erik in a few weeks’ time. She was to set off in the morning with her father. It was a mark of how important this marriage was to her country that he was accompanying her rather than sending one of her elder brothers or some lesser ambassador. The dress was new and she had decided to wear it today to get used to the feel of it. It would not do to be awkward. She tilted her head this way and that, admiring her appearance in the silvered mirror. Yes, quite presentable. The dress was high-necked, just as she liked it, and its deep green colour brought out the green of her eyes, making them look darker. She would look as pretty as possible for this last summer visit to Prince Erik’s home. Either she would remain for the rest of her life, or she would come home and never go back.
She was not sure what to hope for.
With a sigh, she sprang up and headed down to the great hall. A number of other young noblemen and –women were there, waiting for the dance class to begin. Claudi found her usual partner and linked her hand in his, smiling a little at him.
“Tomorrow, isn’t it?” he asked softly.
“Yes,” she said, with a small sigh of regret. She would miss him deeply. “Tomorrow.”
“You don’t have to do this. You know that if you told your father that you will not marry him, he’d not make you.”
“And then what? Don’t be stupid, Greth. We need this alliance.”
“I don’t want it sealed with your flesh.”
“Then whose? This is my duty.”
“But I love you, Claudi, I don’t want to see you become another man’s wife.”
Claudi looked away. “Love. What is love but a distraction from duty?”
“Claudi… what if something were to happen to Erik?”
She looked at him sharply. “Greth, you don’t mean that.”
“Think about it. What if…”
“Never speak so again!” she snapped, fighting to keep her voice low. “I will forgive you… this once. Do not try me a second time.”
He frowned, withdrawing his hand from hers. “You never loved me, did you?”
“I like to dance with you. Nothing more. If I loved you…” This hurt. She was fond of him, but wasn’t sure if it was love. In any case, she could not allow it to cloud her reasoning. “I could not do this. I don’t know.”
He turned away with a frown, but took her hand again and moved to join the line of couples as the dance master walked in. Like her, he knew the meaning and importance of duty.
“Today, we say farewell to one of our companions,” the master said, before beginning the lesson. “Princess Claudetta leaves us tomorrow for a foreign land. I only hope that they dance the same dances there.”
There was laughter. Claudi blushed, smiling at her friends.
“As is traditional, when we have warmed up we will practise a dance of Claudetta’s choice. Claudetta?”
Claudi didn’t have to think about it. “The country promenade?”
“I thought as much. Very well.”
Claudi let her mind wander through the familiar stretches and exercises, thinking about Erik. It hurt to think about Greth, so she thought of Erik, turning her anger to the memories of his childish behaviour towards her in times past.
She dimly remembered first meeting him. An image of a chubby face with a mat of black hair. He kissed her hand and then tossed it down, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. She remembered her humiliation, even at such a young age. More clearly, she remembered begging her father not to make her go back a few years later. Erik had greeted her by shooting a tomato at her with a catapult as she walked down the gangplank of her father’s ship. That was the year that she had met his friend, Dany. It was also the year of the tree house incident. She reminded herself again that he had asked for it. Later was the business with the kingstone match. She would have to do something about that. She refused to live with someone who was incapable of playing her favourite board game.
She was brought back to reality by the master’s voice.
“Form couples, and we’ll begin.” He lifted his lute and began to pluck out a simple tune. Claudi took Greth’s hand and walked this way and that, doubled away, side… side… double back. She wondered whether Erik knew this most beautiful dance. This might be the last time she danced it.

When she arrived back in her own room, Claudi had to fend off hugs from her two younger sisters, who had apparently been lying in wait for her.
“Claudi, must you go?” asked Anni, pouting. She was shorter than Claudi and looked much younger than she was. Behaved younger than she was, too.
“Of course I must, Anni. You know that. If I marry Erik, then we will be allied to Lansen and will have their support should the empire decide that it wants to invade us. It’ll help, at least.” She laughed. “I’m just glad I don’t have to marry the emperor or one of his nasty sons!” she pulled a face that set Anni giggling. The middle one of the three, Lillen, frowned.
“You shouldn’t have to marry anyone you don’t want to,” she said firmly. “It’s not fair. Why is father making you marry this nasty prince? He can’t possibly love you if he’s making you marry someone you don’t love.”
Claudi frowned. Love again! What did love matter? At least at this early stage. She knew that her father loved her mother, but that he had not at first. They had grown to love one another over time. Hopefully, the same would happen between her and Erik.
“Claudi?” Anni was pouting again. “Lillen’s right. You shouldn’t have to marry him if you don’t want to.”
“But I don’t not want to,” Claudi scowled, wishing that she could phrase that better. “This is my duty. From when I was a baby, this was the part assigned to me: to serve my country by making a good marriage. It’s the same for you, it’s just that I’ve had my groom lined up for me all my life.”
Anni was nodding. “You’re right,” she said. “Yes, you should marry him, if it’s your duty.”
“But it isn’t fair!” wailed Lillen, clenching her fists. “I don’t want to get married! I don’t want you to get married! I want to be like a normal girl and run around outside and get dirty and marry someone I love!”
“Yes!” cried Anni, switching her opinions instantly. Claudi sighed. For a while she’d thought that they’d managed to teach Anni not to do that.
“Lillen,” she said, “We’re not children any more.”
Lillen sighed. “You could fight back. Why don’t you?”
“I could. I could let down everyone that’s relying on me, including mother, father, Hanry, Timthy and – though you might not know it – you two.”
Anni nodded solemnly. “Maybe. I don’t want to be invaded by the emperor and have to marry one of his nasty sons.”
“Surely there’s another way? Maybe the three of us could go and infiltrate the emperor’s household and kill him.”
Claudi laughed. “With what? My skills at kingstone, your obsession with romances and Anni’s uncanny ability to agree with the last thing anyone said?”
“Yes!” cried Anni. “We can do it!”
“I consider that as demonstration of my point.”
Lillen sighed again, more deeply. “I’ll think of something.”
“Meanwhile, please say you support me. I’d hate to go away knowing that two of my best friends hate me for going through with this marriage.”
“Who’s the other?” asked Lillen.
“Greth.” Claudi looked at the floor, trying not to show her own grief.
“Bastard!”
“Anni, watch your language!”
Anni’s brows were drawn together. “He should back you up, not be trying to make you unhappy! I shall go and speak to him about it.”
Claudi winced as her youngest sister marched out of the room, back ramrod-straight. She was stupid. Claudi knew that she shouldn’t think that, but it was true. Anni was endearingly stupid and she wished her future husband joy of her.
She knew that any man who married Lillen would need her wishes, though. The other girl was scowling again.
“There must be a way.”
Claudi smiled. “If you think of one before Erik’s jewel is about my throat and my kiss on his lips, then let me know.”
At this veiled acknowledgement that she would then consider cancelling the wedding, Lillen looked happier. In fact, Claudi probably would not do any such thing. It would be very wrong to abandon him in the face of God and their kin. Apart from anything else, it would not do anything for her reputation. Her father would never find her another groom, and in all likelihood it would mean war with Lansen.
However, she could let Lillen believe what she wanted for now.