Five long days of meeting an ever-increasing number of nobles of all shapes, sized and dispositions had numbed Sammy. She had lost count of the number of times she had performed the assistance ritual glyph. She had met more contracted nobles than she thought were in the worlds. And they just kept coming. Weirdly though, only about half of them had that aura of noble stupidity. Maybe the curse was not as all-powerful as she thought?

Of course, King Ista’s people had not lost count. Apparently the number was thirty-three, sixteen daring contracted, twelve actual nobles and five commons. Only one of the nobles had been from a neighboring kingdom thus far.

Sammy took her seat on the beginning of the sixth day. She already knew who the first three ‘petitioners’ would be, royalty from kingdoms bordering King Morstan’s realm. Two of them actually bordered her own, so Queen Linda beseeched Sammy to be on her best, no, ‘better than her best,’ behavior. That was kind of rude, in Sammy’s humble opinion. Apparently Sammy’s best behavior was setting the bar too low. Sammy had glared at the smirking countess who had made that particular quip for a full seven seconds. She had counted to make sure it was long enough too.

The doors to the reception hall opened and the herald declared in his loud voice the first petitioner of the day. “Presenting King Warren Li and his queen, Li Li, of the Free Cities Warren. Queen Milan Elym of the Kingdom of Jet. Queen Rym-Tora Nychon and her king, Jack Nychon, of the Kingdom of Nych.”

Sammy shot a surprised glance at King Morstan. They were all coming at the same time? What the heck. The king pointedly did not look at her, but she could see that slight smirk on his face. She wanted to make a fuss, but the stupid countess gave the cutest little cough from beside her and Sammy felt her face go a bit red. Her bar was not too low and she would prove it.

The group of five royals strode down the audience hall with purpose, all shoulder to shoulder. Sammy thought they looked kind of cool, but then gave her head a little shake. Where had that silly thought come from? She felt a bit betrayed by herself.

The group passed all the lines, but when they came to the black line, the one closest to the throne, the two spouses stopped, while the three contracted royals took one additional step past it. All three of them then inclined their heads to King Morstan and his queen. The two spouses bowed deeper from their positions at the black line. In order of age, the three greeted their resident contracted peer. The greetings were just a bit jarring, out of expectations.

“Yo, Morstan, thanks for the invite,” the tall, thin man standing to the right said in a strong voice. He had a black goatee, immaculately manicured and intense blue eyes. His billowing, black hair contained distinct locks of grey, clearly done by a salon. It hung just past his shoulders. And, seriously, it billowed. Sammy wanted to know if he was doing that with some kind of wind glyph. He raised his right hand to shoulder level as if wanting a high-five. “Crazy goings on, eh?” Behind the man, the middle-aged woman in a white dress put a hand to a cheek and then moved a lock of golden hair behind her ear, his queen apparently. She rolled her eyes and had a rather put-upon expression to for her.

“Greeting right back at you, Warren,” King Morstan said.

Queen Linda chuckled and added, “Queen Li, it is good that you are long suffering as always.” The golden hair lady grinned at her peer and gave a thumbs up to her. Now it was King Warren’s turn to roll his eyes.

Sammy watched this display with a muddle of confusion. Seriously, what the heck was going on here? She thought it was hilarious of course, but this was so not how she thought stupid nobles, er royals behaved. This was an unfair attack on her view of reality.

“Greetings to you, King Morstan, Queen Linda,” the woman to the left said, a faint smile on her face and her hands clasped comfortably low in front of her. She wore a black, form fitting dress that complemented her athletic body. She was easily in her forties, maybe even fifties, and her dark brown had the hints of gray without actually showing any of it. Above all , she conveyed a strong youthful aura that seemed to make the air around her dance. “We truly are grateful that you would honor us with your invitation and for hosting so many to relight their contract Flames.” Her husband behind her inclined his head flaming red head to the couple, keeping his expression neutral. Sammy was pretty sure he was pretty smug about something though.

King Morstan inclined his head to the woman, “It is our pleasure, Queen Rym-Tora. This has been a unique time and it is our responsibility as sovereigns to assist in re-establishing order. Thank you for accommodating the orders of procedure set into place.”

Sammy glanced at Morstan. He was shifting his responses to match the greeting a little to smoothly. How could he go crazy casual to moderately formal in the space of a single breath? And he made it sound normal. She just did not understand.

The middle woman, who was apparently single, was the youngest and looked maybe in her early twenties. She wore a green dress and had short black hair cut at an angle for rather strong and austere persona. She looked a lot like the matriarch of a new upstart merchant house showing her fangs. Her vibrant green eyes seemed to jump out and grab one’s attention. Of the three, Sammy was the most wary of this one.

Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

“Lord Morstan, Lady Linda, it is a pleasure to see you again. Thank you for attending my contracting ceremony last season. I am, to be honest, a bit surprised in needing you to attend its relighting so soon, but I am truly grateful for your beneficence.”

“It was our pleasure to attend your ascension,” the king said, his smile gentle as for the child of a close friend. “And the vagaries of fate do not bow to the wills of mankind, even the most vaunted. I am pleased that you weather the side currents with grace and magnanimity.”

Sammy shot a glance at the man sitting on the throne to her left and thought, “Now you’re just trying to sound cool, stupid royal.” Apparently she actually said it out loud though, as all eyes turned to her and Countess Dorimor breathed out an “Ach-a,” from her right. Sammy’s face went beet red in the space of a single heartbeat.

“Ho, it’s just like you said, Morry,” King Warren said with a huge grin. “She’s a feisty one.” He then schooled his huge grin down to a warm smile and said, “I take it you are Arch Duchess Sammy Micaels? ”

Sammy swallowed, just a bit nervous under that smile. “Ye, yes.”

The man then gave Sammy a shallow, but noticeable bow as opposed to the inclined nod when greeting King Morstan. His tone shifted, taking on a more formal, majestic quality that totally did not match the image he had already solidified in Sammy’s mind. “I greet you, young inheritor of the Ionan contracted house. I am King Warren Li,” he turned a bit and used a hand to indicate the woman behind him, “and this is my beloved wife, Queen Li Li. Thank you for consenting to forward assistance in the relighting of our doused Flame. I do hereby petition you, and request your offered assistance.”

“Um, su, sure,” Sammy said, still discombobulated at her earlier faux pas. Then she realized she might have just made another one. She straightened her back and firmed her expression as she corrected herself. “I mean, I am okay with helping you out.”

“Bar is definitely too low,” Countess Dorimor said softly next to her.

Sammy’s face, which had cooled a bit from the initial embarrassment, immediately went quite red once again. But she then firmed her expression to her more normal one of complete defiance. She stood up abruptly, her contract markings blazing as she stepped down from the raised dais. “Let’s get this over with already,” she said in a fierce voice.

The king raised his eyebrows and glanced at King Morstan. Morstan just gave him a slight nod of his head and an amused upturning of his lips. With that, Sammy made drew the appropriate pattern and King Warren reciprocated. A moment later a beautiful flame of lavender, blue and white burst into the space above the man’s hands. Sammy’s eyes widened at how robust and energetic, and plan old happy, the Flame appeared.

“Nicely done, young lady,” the king said. He bowed to Sammy once again, this one a bit deeper than the first. He then stepped back and draped an arm around his queen’s shoulders as the both practically cooed at their flame.

The youthful old woman to the left then gave the same greeting boy as King Warren had given and smiled kindly at Sammy. “I too greet you, young woman. I am Queen Rym-Tora Nychon of the land of Nych, and this is my beloved husband, Jack Nychon. It is our pleasure to meet one so dedicated. I would petition your assistance in relighting the honorable Flame of Nychon, if you are agreeable.”

Sammy shrugged and said, “It’s why I’m here. Long as you’re not a jerk, and you lot seem strangely okay.” She sighed and added, “Which is weird, but nice? Anyway, I agree to help you.” And ignoring the every so slight twitch in the queen’s eyebrows, Sammy once more drew the ritual pattern that would assist in the relighting of the woman’s ‘honorable’ Flame.

A Flame of beautiful emerald green with rich browns here and there burst into being as if it had been standing just out of sight and wanted to surprise a child. The flame did not just hover over the woman’s hands, but rather enveloped them and danced over her forearms. The woman smiled such a heart-rending smile at the flame that Sammy started blushing for a different reason altogether.

“Thank you, Arch Duchess. The house of Nychon shall ever be grateful for your wonderful assistance this day,” Queen Rym-Tora said, her eyes betraying her delighted amusement at Sammy’s reaction and words. She then bowed the deeper bow of respect to the one assisting in the ceremony of relighting and withdrew to embrace her husband as she cuddled her flame to her breasts.

The youngest and last monarch gave the same initial bow as the previous two. “I greet you, Sammy Micaels, beginning of your own house. I am Queen Milan Elym of the land of Jet. Thank you for consenting in the relighting of our doused Flame. I do hereby petition you, and request your offered assistance.”

Sammy nodded but kept her answer short, “I agree.” She then began writing the assistance ritual for the third time. The young queen gave the Arch Duchess a bemused look, but also performed the full blown relighting ceremony on the fly.

A jet black Flame blazed over Queen Milan’s cupped hands. It gave the impression of a dark, moonless night, but there were little sky-blue and white mini-flames running around chasing and being chased by mini-flames of orange and green. Sammy blinked and leaned closer. Were those mini-flames squirrels? They freaking were. There were miniature squirrel flames running around playing with each other inside this woman’s contracted Flame.

“That is so cool,” Sammy said, her eyes alight with excited wonder. She even forgot to look surely.

“It is, is it not?” Queen Milan said, her eyes betraying her delighted amusement at Sammy’s reaction and words. She then bowed the bow of respect for the one assisting in her ceremony of relighting. She then withdrew to stand once more between the two royal couples. She held the flame in one cupped hand, the other coming up beside it in a gentle caress.

Sammy gazed at the royals now lined up on the black line for a moment, then backed away until she was at her seat, stepping up the dais steps as if actually seeing them. She once more sat on the edge of her seat. She did not fully understand what was going on here, but these people really did seem likeable. This really did not make sense to her at all. Were all royals likeable? Did royal contracts play with people’s emotions and perceptions? Was she being deceived? That all seemed very plausible to her at the moment.

The royal servants brought out impressive chairs for the visiting royals. The five chairs were slightly less ornate than King Morstan’s own and were set to the left of the dais on a raised area designed for the purpose one step down from the level of the throne. Set in a line, the monarchs arranged themselves in the order Sammy had relit their Flames in. Once they were all settled, the day’s normal roster began.