Ascendance

"THEY WILL NOTaccept me," Roger Lockless protested after Jilseponie announced to him and Dainsey that he would become the acting baron of Palmaris when she left for Ursal.

"They will love you as I do," Jilseponie argued.

"It is too great a - "

"Enough from you, Roger Lockless," Jilseponie scolded. "You will not be alone in this endeavor, with Dainsey beside you. And the staff of Chasewind Manor understands your duties well enough and will guide you, as will Abbot Braumin, now that he has returned to head St. Precious."

"Why did ye take the position o' bishop, knowing that ye were soon to head south?" Dainsey asked, though she didn't seem upset by any of this. Dainsey had seen the very edge of death's door, after all, and since that day when she had entered the covenant of Avelyn in the faraway Barbacan it seemed that little could shake her.

"It is a position that will be continued, I believe," Jilseponie explained. "I expect that Abbot Braumin will be accepted by King Danube as leader of the city in Church and State."

"So I should not become too comfortable in Chasewind Manor," Roger reasoned, betraying by his tone that he was thrilled at the prospect of becoming baron.

"I have already spoken with Abbot Braumin," Jilseponie explained. "He will find great duties for you, my friend, and though you'll not hold the formal title of baron should Braumin be accepted as bishop by King Danube, you will find your duties no less demanding or important."

"The responsibility without the accolades," Roger said with a great and dramatic sigh. "It has been that way since first I rescued Elbryan from the powries."

That brought a smile to Jilseponie's face, for of course, the rescue had happened the other way around.

They heard a call in the distance, in rather annoyed tones, for "Lady Jilseponie!"

"Duke Bretherford's an impatient one!" Dainsey remarked.

"He wishes to catch the high water," said Jilseponie, though she knew that Dainsey's assessment of the man, especially concerning this particular duty, was right on target. Bretherford had come for her from Ursal as soon as the weather had allowed, and he hadn't seemed pleased by the situation, addressing Jilseponie somewhat sourly on every occasion.

"Well, I must be going," the woman said to her two friends. "King Danube awaits."

Dainsey rushed up and hugged her tightly, but Roger hung back a moment, staring at her.

"Queen Jilseponie," he said, and he shook his head and smiled. "I do not know that I can ever call you that."

"Ah, but then I will have to take your head!" Jilseponie said dramatically, and then she and Roger both came forward at the same moment, bumping into each other.

"You will be there?" Jilseponie asked him.

"Front row," Roger assured her. "And woe to any noble who tries to deny the Baron of Palmaris the opportunity to see his dearest friend ascend to the throne!"

That brought another warm smile to Jilseponie's face, for she didn't doubt Roger's words for a moment. "You help Abbot Braumin," she instructed. "Be his friend as you've been mine."

"And you be one, as well," Roger said in all seriousness. "Forget not your friends here in the north once you are settled comfortably on the throne in Ursal."

Jilseponie kissed him on the cheek. Outside, Duke Bretherford's man yelled again for her, even more insistently.

River Palacefloated away from Palmaris' dock soon after, Jilseponie at the taffrail, waving to Roger and Dainsey, and to Braumin, Viscenti, and Castinagis; waving farewell to Palmaris, the city that had meant so much to her for the majority of her adult life.

She stayed at the taffrail for a long time, reflecting on all that had gone before, knowing that she had to make peace with her past now, with her losses, if she was to be a good wife to Danube and a good queen of Honce-the-Bear. The skyline receded, lost in the haze that drifted off the water, as the years themselves seemed to drift away from Jilseponie now. She had to look forward, not back, to perhaps the most important duty she had ever known.

Besides, in looking back, the specter of Elbryan loomed; and viewing those memories brought Jilseponie only great doubts about her decision to marry King Danube, to marry anyone who was not Elbryan.

"Your evening meal will be served at sunset, m'lady," came a voice, breaking her trance.

She turned to regard the young sailor, offering him a warm smile. Then she looked past him, to Duke Bretherford as he stood on the deck, staring sternly out to port - pointedly, she realized, not looking at her. Why had he sent the sailor to tell her, when he was but a few strides away? Perhaps it was a matter of protocol that she did not know, perhaps a measure of respect for her and her privacy. Or perhaps, Jilseponie mused -and this seemed most likely of all - Duke Bretherford was intentionally sending her less-than-friendly signals. He had been somewhat cold to her since he had arrived in Palmaris the week before, informing her that the weather had held calm and the time had come for her to journey to Ursal, as per her arrangement with King Danube. Indeed, it had seemed to Jilseponie that old Bretherford was quite a reluctant messenger and cartman.

He turned from her now and started walking away, apparently having no intention of causing any direct confrontations. But Jilseponie didn't play by the same rules of "tact." She would not go into this union with the King blindly, nor would she let unspoken resentments remain so.

"Duke Bretherford," she said quietly but certainly loud enough for him to hear, and she started toward him.

He pretended not to hear.

"Duke Bretherford!" she said more insistently; and now he did stop, though he did not turn to face her. "I would speak with you, please."

Bretherford turned slowly to face her as she approached. "M'lady," he said with a slight bow, one that seemed awkward given the short man's barrel-like build. Bretherford didn't seem able to bend in any particular way, seemed more like a solid mass atop those skinny, bent legs.

"In private?" Jilseponie asked more than stated, for she was perfectly willing to have this out on the open deck, if Bretherford so desired.

The Duke paused and considered the question for a moment, then said, "As you wish," and led Jilseponie to his cabin beneath the flying bridge.

"Tell me," Jilseponie demanded as soon as they were alone and Bretherford closed the door.

"Concerning?" the Duke innocently asked.

Jilseponie gave him a sour look.

"M'lady?" he asked politely, feigning ignorance to the bitter end.

"Your attitude has changed over the winter," Jilseponie remarked.

"Concerning?" the evasive nobleman asked again.

"Concerning me," Jilseponie said bluntly. "Ever since your arrival in Palmaris, I have noticed a palpable distance, a chill upon you whenever necessity brings us together."

"I am a messenger, duty bound to my mission," Bretherford started to say, but Jilseponie wasn't going to let him evade the intent of her questions so easily. She was frightened enough by the possibilities that awaited her in Ursal, and she didn't need any trouble with the man delivering her to Danube!

"You have changed," she said. "Or at least, your attitude toward me has changed. I do not pretend that we were ever friends, but it seems obvious to me that you greeted me with far more warmth in the past than you do now. So what have I done, Duke Bretherford, to so offend you?"

"Nothing, m'lady," he answered, but his sour tone when he said her title, the title of a soon-to-be queen, gave her all the answer she needed.

"Nothing more than my accepting the proposal of King Danube," Jilseponie quickly added.

That set Bretherford back on his heels, and he brought one hand up to stroke his bushy, unkempt gray mustache, a telltale sign, she knew, that she had hit the mark. He walked to the side of the cabin to a small cupboard. He reached in and produced a bottle and a pair of glasses. "Boggle?" he asked.

Normally Jilseponie would have refused, for she had never been much of a drinker. She understood the significance of Bretherford's actions, though. The man was offering her a chance for a private, person-to-person and not duke-to-queen, conversation.

She nodded and took the glass of wine, bringing it up and taking a small sip, her eyes locked on Bretherford, who nearly drained his own glass in one gulp.

"Bah, but I should be savoring it, I know," he admitted.

"You have nothing to be nervous about, Duke Bretherford," Jilseponie said. "You are uncomfortable around me, and have been since you arrived in Palmaris, and I am curious to know why."

"No, m'lady, nothing like that."

Jilseponie scowled at him. "Do not play me for the fool," she said. "Your attitude toward me has surely shifted, and to the negative. Am I not even entitled to know why? Or am I supposed to guess?"

Bretherford finished his drink and poured another.

"Anything that you say now remains strictly between us," Jilseponie assured him, for she could see that he wanted to tell her something.

"Not many in Ursal envied me this voyage," Bretherford said quietly.

"The journey can be long and arduous," said Jilseponie.

"Because of you," Bretherford finished. "Not many were thrilled that I was sailing north to retrieve Lady Jilseponie. Some even hinted that I should toss you into the Masur Delaval long before we ever came within sight of Ursal's docks."

That admission stunned Jilseponie.

"You said that this discussion was between us, and in that context, I can speak candidly," the Duke went on.

"Please do."

"Few in the court at Ursal are delighted that King Danube is marrying a peasant," Bretherford explained. "I discount not your heroics," he quickly added, holding up his hand to stop Jilseponie, who was about to retort, "in the war and fighting the plague. That was many years ago, and the memories of the people are short, I fear."

"The memories of the noblewomen, you mean," Jilseponie remarked, and Bretherford tipped his glass to her.

"The place of queen is always reserved for women of noble birth," he replied, "for the virginal daughters of dukes or barons or other court nobility."

"Yet it is the King's prerogative to choose," said Jilseponie.

"Of course," Bretherford admitted. "But that little changes the reality of what you will face in Ursal. The noblewomen will scorn your every step, wishing that it was they who walked on the arm of King Danube. Even the peasants - "

"The peasants?" Jilseponie interrupted. "What do you know of us, Duke Bretherford?"

"I know that few will greet you with the tolerance that you have found here in the north," the man went on, undeterred. "Oh, the peasant women will love you at first, seeing you as the realization of a dream that is common throughout the kingdom, the dream of all the peasant girls that the King will fall in love with them and elevate them to the status of nobility. But that same source of their initial love for you may well turn into jealousy. Beware your every move, Bishop Jilseponie," he said candidly. "For they, all of them, will judge you, and harshly, if you err."

The man was obviously rattled then, by the sound of his own words, and he gulped down his second glass of boggle, breathing hard.

He believed that he had overstepped his boundaries, despite the claim that this was a private conversation, Jilseponie knew. He expected that she would hate him forever after, perhaps even that she would enlist Danube against him, covertly if not overtly. In truth, Jilseponie was a bit taken aback, a bit angry, and that emotion was indeed initially aimed at Duke Bretherford. But when she considered his words, she found that she could not disagree with his assessment.

"Thank you," she said, and the man looked at her in surprise. "You have spoken honestly to me, and that, I fear, is something I will not often find at King Danube's court."

"Rare indeed," the Duke agreed, and he seemed to relax a bit.

"As for our relationship, I ask only that you judge me fairly," Jilseponie went on. "Allow me the chance to prove my value to King and country as queen. Judge me as you would one of those noble daughters."

Bretherford didn't answer, other than to hold the bottle of boggle toward her.

Jilseponie toasted him with her glass, drained it, and then presented it for refill.

She left Bretherford's cabin soon after, thinking that this had not been a bad start to their relationship - and in truth, though they had known each other for more than a decade, this really was the start of any relationship between them, for this was the only honest exchange the pair had ever shared. Jilseponie believed that she had made an ally, and she feared she would need many of those at King Danube's hostile court.

No, not an ally, she realized as she considered again the words and movements of Duke Bretherford. But at least, she believed, she could now count on the man to treat her honestly.

That was more than she expected she would find from many others at Danube's snobbish, exclusive court.

River Palacesailed into Ursal harbor to great fanfare and cheering, with throngs gathered to greet the woman who would become their queen. Given the exuberance, the sheer glee, it was hard for Jilseponie to keep in mind the warnings of Duke Bretherford. But only for that short, overwhelming moment when first she viewed the passionate people. For she had learned much in her life, and Jilseponie knew that the greater the passion, the easier and the greater the turn. As she stepped onto the gangplank and looked out over the crowd, she imagined the cheering and beaming smiles transformed into screaming and ugly grimaces. In truth, it did not seem to be so much of a stretch.

In addition, there were two standing among the nobles at the dock who reinforced the Duke's dire words - the two, Jilseponie reasoned, who had already spoken ill of her to Bretherford, who had likely helped change his attitude toward her.

Constance Pemblebury and Duke Targon Bree Kalas flanked King Danube, as always; their proximity to the man who would be her husband brought little hope to Jilseponie. She could see through the phony smiles stamped upon their faces, could hear the anger in their every hand clap. Constance in particular held Jilseponie's gaze with her own, and Jilseponie could not miss the hatred in the woman's eyes.

She debarked River Palace, smiling and waving, with Duke Bretherford's words resonating clearly in her mind.

Her first step onto Ursal's dock, she realized even as she took it, was the beginning of a very trying road.