Bearers of the Black Staff

Well, that last was a lie. Of course, she pondered it. She thought about it all the time. She just didn’t know what to do.

Thinking back on all this, she walked out into the gardens and sat on a stone bench, staring down into the still waters of the lily pond that provided a focal point for the surrounding beds. Trees cast dappled shadows across the green sweep of the grounds, reaching beyond the gardens to the lawns and hedgerows, giving all of it an oddly secretive look on a day that was sunny and warm in spite of winter’s lingering hold. She watched birds flit from branch to branch, everything from wrens and sparrows to tiny hummingbirds. She could hear their songs mix with the buzzing of dragonflies and bees and the rustle of leaves. In the solitude of the moment, she found she could forget everything.

She leaned forward and looked down at her reflection in the waters of the pond. Her short-cropped red hair softened the angular features of her sun-browned face, and her startling blue eyes stared back out of the watery depths, watching as she watched, as if she had divided herself.

“Do you see anything you like?” a familiar voice asked.

It took a certain amount of effort, but she forced herself to look around as if it were the most casual of acts, smiling at Isoeld. The Queen wore soft yellows and pale blues and with her nearly white-blond hair and delicate features looked stunning.

“Not really,” Phryne replied, staring directly at the other.

To her credit, Isoeld smiled back, as if no insult had been given. “We none of us much care for the way we look, do we? Even if others sometimes do. Good morning to you, Phryne.”

“Good morning, Stepmother,” Phryne answered. She paused, taking in the basket the other woman carried over her right arm. “Off to the market for fresh fruits and vegetables?”

“No, off to work with the sick and injured this morning. The healers say I bring smiles to the faces of their patients, and I am happy enough if I can do that.”

“Of course you are. My father says you bring a smile to his face just by walking in the room. I imagine you can do that for almost anyone, can’t you?”

Isoeld looked off into the trees a moment. “Why do you dislike me so, Phryne? What do you think I have done that makes you so unhappy with me?” She looked back quickly, shaking her head. “You know, I had no intention of having this discussion now, but suddenly I find I cannot put it off another moment.”

Phryne rose so that they were facing each other. “I don’t like it that you are taking my mother’s place in my father’s affections. I don’t like it that you are so quick to assume that you are entitled to be Queen in her place. I don’t like anything at all about the way you insinuated yourself into my father’s affections and took him away!”

It was out before she could think better of it, her anger rising instantly to the surface, released in a rush of vitriolic words. She stopped short of saying more, already knowing she had said too much.

“Why stop there, Phryne?” the other woman asked suddenly. “Do you think I am not aware of the rest? You don’t like it that I am so young and your father is so much older. You don’t like it that you think I am unfaithful to him and see another man behind his back. You don’t like it that he spends so much time with me and so little with you. Isn’t that right?”

Phryne compressed her mouth into a tight line. “Yes, that’s right.”

Isoeld nodded slowly, as if something important had been confirmed. “You have reason to feel as you do about some of what you’ve said, but not all. I have taken your mother’s place, but only because your father does not want to be alone. I am a comfort to him, but I will never replace your mother, even though you might see it that way. If I have taken your father away from you, it is not because I intended for that to happen, and you must speak to him about his neglect. I am Queen because he fell in love with me and for no other reason; I am lucky to be Queen but more so to be his wife.”

Phryne started to turn away, but the other woman grabbed her arm. “No, you let me finish! I can’t help that the age difference between us is so great, but age does not necessarily determine the depth of a couple’s love for each other. I have no consort and I do not betray my marriage vows. I am aware of your suspicions; others have voiced them, as well. But I am faithful to your father. The first minister is a friend and nothing more. Your father knows this; if you speak to him about it, he will tell you so.”