Queen of the Ashes

VII.

The queen was swept up in a procession of meetings with various delegations for the rest of the evening into the following morning, with hardly a second to breathe between bows and curtsies to people she hoped she would never see again.

As her steward announced each successive appointment to her, she avoided making eye contact with him, keeping her expression cool and indecipherable.

By the time she was able to slot in a brief return to her room to regroup, he informed her that she was expected in the courtyard for an afternoon of lawn games with her guests. She met the news with a deep and unbroken sigh, half-tempted to call off the rest of the week's events and remain secluded in her room, undisturbed. But in the warmth of the sunbeams as they washed over her bedsheets, recalling her conversation with the prince from the day before, the queen yielded to her obligations.

She was welcomed with polite bows and smiles when she arrived outside, and she returned the gestures with her usual vague pleasantries, observing her surroundings. Large spaces had been demarcated in the grass for games of bocce and kubb, with some others she did not recognize introduced by the foreign visitors.

"Your Majesty," a man in fine dress bowed before her, gesturing to one such game, "would you do us the honor of playing a round of croquet?"

She followed the direction of his arm to where several noblemen and women were bent over with wooden mallets, trying to strike colorful balls through arched posts, and suppressed an eyeroll.

"Perhaps later," she answered with a forced smile.

Others soon followed his example – from the Netherlands, Germany, Portugal, Spain, and Weselton (the last of which she had never even heard of until that week, when its Duke had proposed a trade agreement so outrageously unfavorable to her country that the man had almost been laughed out of a meeting with her council) – but she rebuffed each in turn, her eyes seeking out the prince.

She found him standing alone, a few feet from where the princess played horseshoes with the French ambassador and his wife, the game surrounded by a circle of onlookers. They applauded and cheered as she hooked one shoe after the other onto the stake.

"It's all in the hand-eye coordination," the younger woman remarked as they released a collective "ooh" at her success in the latest match, and she curtsied to her opponents with a grin.

Seeing her older sister approaching them, she waved at her. "Elsa! Will you play a round?"

The queen's smile wavered for a moment. "I'll sit this one out, Anna," she said, "since it looks like many of our guests would like a go at playing against you."

The crowd laughed at her comment, but the princess frowned. The queen drew closer to her, murmuring: "I have to speak with Hans. I hope you don't mind."

The princess's frown converted into a wide, bright smile. "Of course not," she whispered, though her pitch was higher from excitement. She winked. "Go get 'im, sis."

The queen refrained from rolling her eyes as she stepped away from the participants, raising her voice so that everyone could hear her again. "I'll be rooting for you, and praying that the rest of you don't get defeated too badly."

The ambassador and his wife chuckled along with the other competitors, watching as the queen left the game area. The princess coughed to refocus their attention, and announced with a grin:

"All right, so who's the next victim?"

This challenge drew their interest away from the queen, who slipped out to the back until she was standing next to the prince. Their proximity did not go entirely unnoticed, as she noted a haughty scoff from the neglected Duke of Weselton in her direction, but her thoughts did not linger on it.