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Week 7 Part 1

The Ballroom

Once the glass had been removed from the ballroom, I decided to visit my favorite painting. I asked the guards stationed beside the ballroom’s closed doors if Father had restricted entry, but they told me there was no such order and that the door’s were only closed so that the palace’s heat would not suffer. A reason justified as I faced assault from a gust as soon I dared to open them.

“Come to pity this old man, Your Highness?” From within came an unexpected greeting that I should have been expecting. Standing with his back against the breeze was an old man more majestic than he had any right to be.

“No lessons today, Gregor?” I asked. There was no maid running out today. It made things feel a bit lonely.

“That will be the case if you leave me, Your Highness.”

“I thought you were more than adept at finding my stand-in?”

Gregor shrugged. “It’s hard when the girls are scared.”

“What are they afraid of? A breeze?” The maids had to be a bit tougher than that.

“There’s a rumor going around that the ballroom’s been cursed.” The look I gave him was prompt enough for him to continue. “Everyone was already worried when your mother died and then something like this happens with no explanation. That’s good enough reason for such a rumor to start.”

I was a bit downcast. “Such thoughts are more pervasive than I’d prefer.” My usual denouncement would have been stronger, but recent events had me questioning the Pact’s stance on superstition.

“The legacy of the Dark Age continues. Twenty years gone, but the consequences still linger.”

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“It is not something that should be casually discussed.”

“Yes, you’ve been taught well, Your Highness. Shameful times such as those should be forgotten. Unfortunately, I’ve grown old enough to be stuck in my ways. By the time it ended, it was already too late for me to learn how to forget.”

There was not much to say to that. The man was born during the Dark Age and spent the first forty-years of his life in it. For people like him, the memory of that time would only leave the world when they did.

“I won’t bore you with all the details, but I’ll give you a warning. The people are still the same. Whether they were born in my time or now, they’re still the same. We can act like we have reason when there is peace, but we’ll ask the world for gifts when our children are starving. We’ll whisper curses under our breath when the bad men beat us down. People are weak like that.”

“Reason needs strength.” By show of strength, the Pact was established and by strength again has it been defended through the ages. “That truth has never changed.”

The old man smiled. “Wise beyond your years, as always.”

I turned away from him. My reason for being there had nothing to do with such a conversation. Paying close attention, I began to inspect Cecilia’s portrait. With nothing better to do, I suppose, Gregor approached me.

“It’s a miracle isn’t it?” He said. “The glass scattered everywhere, but not scratch on the portrait nor its frame. As if the queen herself willed its safety from beyond.”

“Have you come here to annoy me with your nonsense?” It was much easier to be reproachful when he talked like this.

“Not at all. If you had let me finish, you would have seen my intention was to ask you for a dance.”

“I’m afraid I’ve become the type of lady who finds no appeal in roundabout speech.”

“Then I’ll ask you more directly.” He laid out his palm before me. “Would Your Highness pity this old man with a dance?”

When he said that, I hesitated. As much as I favored rejecting him, being in front of Cecilia really did make me want to dance. The stronger feeling won out and I took his hand. “You’re lucky that it’s not too cold today.” I said as another breeze rolled in.

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In Consequence

Diane has become interested in submitting her proof of wisdom on the Vallisian Dark Age.