Blackveil
Page 79
“You must admit,” Tegan said, “this costume is better than the cat or mouse. And definitely better than the horse!”
Karigan wasn’t so sure. What she was sure of was that the Riders loitering outside her door would not allow her to live this down.
“You could have been the horse’s back end,” she suggested.
“Ha! But I was not invited. Now are you ready? The ball should have begun by now.”
When Karigan grumbled an affirmative, Tegan helped her rise. At least her shoes fit. She’d been careful to pick a comfortable pair from the pile in Leadora’s loft. She also ensured Tegan had not cinched the corset too tight so she could breathe unrestricted.
“You look very ... um ... audacious,” Tegan said with a smile and a glint in her eye.
Karigan frowned and steeled herself to exit her chamber for the outside world where she’d have to reveal her ridiculous appearance to all and sundry.
Tegan opened the door with a flourish and announced, “Here she is, Her Highness, Queen Oddacious!”
The reaction of the assembled Riders was pretty much what Karigan expected: lots of laughter and jokes.
“Don’t you mean Mad Queen Oddacious?” Yates called out, foremost of those crowded around her. “Where are your kitty cats?”
Karigan rapped him on the shoulder with a folded fan that came with the costume. Yates grinned unrepentantly.
Someone meowed, and several of the Riders joined in until there was an entire chorus of mewing.
“If you keep it up,” Karigan told them, “Queen Oddacious will be mad. Real mad.”
“Hey, where’s your husband?” someone cried out in the back. Karigan realized it was Fergal. “I hear he’s a real stud!”
This was followed by more uproarious laughter.
“I have become a walking pun,” Karigan muttered.
“Who wears her heart on her sleeve,” Tegan reminded her.
Karigan knew she should have declined the costume, but she’d been desperate. The play Mad Queen Oddacious was a farce about a despot queen. There was a song in the first act and Tegan knew some of the verses:
Mad Queen Oddacious has twenty-one cats
Each named Precious and wears a hat
Mad Queen Oddacious married a horse
Her subjects are mice she rules by force ...
Then there was something about the twenty-one cats eating the mice, and a raunchy verse about the queen and her stallion husband, which Karigan suddenly realized Yates was reciting to the great amusement of all.
“He bade her mount and—”
Karigan smacked him harder with the fan.
“Ow,” he said, rubbing his head.
“Come, Tegan,” Karigan said. “I’ve had enough of these little mice.”
This was met with good-natured jeers.
As she and Tegan left the Rider wing, she reflected that as much as the play was a farce, it had a more serious subtext. Tegan explained the play had been based on a real person from the distant times before Sacoridia had had a high king and the Sacor Clans were tribes spread across various territories, the clan chiefs governing their tiny realms like petty kings. According to history, they were constantly at war with one another.
One clan named a woman to be their chief, which was unusual in those days. Her rule proved hard and she nearly drove her territory into ruin by loving her treasures and horses more than her people. The people rebelled and severed her head, or worse, depending on who was telling the story. Much of the truth of the tale was lost to the darkness of time, but the play served as a cautionary tale for those with power to wield it wisely and well. In the last act of the play, Queen Oddacious’ husband transforms from a horse into a handsome warrior and slays her. All the mice feed on her flesh.
Karigan rather wondered if the play were more a warning specifically to women who dared aspire to power from men who loathed the mere thought of being ruled by them. Tegan said the play had enjoyed a resurgence in popularity during the reign of Queen Isen, who had not shown the least tendency toward despotism.
It was a long walk to the ballroom and Karigan caught more than one amused look cast her way from servants and other castle personnel.
The strains of music grew as they approached the ballroom, and when they paused near the entrance, Karigan’s spirits sagged as she observed ladies and gentlemen in very sophisticated attire streaming through the entrance. Just as she imagined, the gowns of the ladies were exquisite and the costumes understated. In her Mad Queen Oddacious costume, she would stand out like a dandelion among roses.
“Time for your mask,” Tegan said.
“Right.”
As Tegan tied the mask on, Karigan felt like she was wearing blinders; it cut off her peripheral vision.
When Tegan finished, she stepped into Karigan’s view. “Remember,” she said, “you are Queen Oddacious and the world is your tart.”
“Oh, gods,” Karigan murmured. There was another line from the song about Queen Oddacious’ love of tarts, followed by other vulgar verses that rhymed with it.
“Have fun,” Tegan said. “It’s not everyone who gets to attend the king’s masquerade. Besides, if you don’t want anyone to know who you are, you don’t have to remove your mask.”
Then how, Karigan wondered as she approached the entrance, would anyone know that the king’s knight and Green Rider was here to show her support for him if she did not reveal herself? Where was the logic in that?
With a sigh she stepped up to the door where guards checked invitations.
Karigan wasn’t so sure. What she was sure of was that the Riders loitering outside her door would not allow her to live this down.
“You could have been the horse’s back end,” she suggested.
“Ha! But I was not invited. Now are you ready? The ball should have begun by now.”
When Karigan grumbled an affirmative, Tegan helped her rise. At least her shoes fit. She’d been careful to pick a comfortable pair from the pile in Leadora’s loft. She also ensured Tegan had not cinched the corset too tight so she could breathe unrestricted.
“You look very ... um ... audacious,” Tegan said with a smile and a glint in her eye.
Karigan frowned and steeled herself to exit her chamber for the outside world where she’d have to reveal her ridiculous appearance to all and sundry.
Tegan opened the door with a flourish and announced, “Here she is, Her Highness, Queen Oddacious!”
The reaction of the assembled Riders was pretty much what Karigan expected: lots of laughter and jokes.
“Don’t you mean Mad Queen Oddacious?” Yates called out, foremost of those crowded around her. “Where are your kitty cats?”
Karigan rapped him on the shoulder with a folded fan that came with the costume. Yates grinned unrepentantly.
Someone meowed, and several of the Riders joined in until there was an entire chorus of mewing.
“If you keep it up,” Karigan told them, “Queen Oddacious will be mad. Real mad.”
“Hey, where’s your husband?” someone cried out in the back. Karigan realized it was Fergal. “I hear he’s a real stud!”
This was followed by more uproarious laughter.
“I have become a walking pun,” Karigan muttered.
“Who wears her heart on her sleeve,” Tegan reminded her.
Karigan knew she should have declined the costume, but she’d been desperate. The play Mad Queen Oddacious was a farce about a despot queen. There was a song in the first act and Tegan knew some of the verses:
Mad Queen Oddacious has twenty-one cats
Each named Precious and wears a hat
Mad Queen Oddacious married a horse
Her subjects are mice she rules by force ...
Then there was something about the twenty-one cats eating the mice, and a raunchy verse about the queen and her stallion husband, which Karigan suddenly realized Yates was reciting to the great amusement of all.
“He bade her mount and—”
Karigan smacked him harder with the fan.
“Ow,” he said, rubbing his head.
“Come, Tegan,” Karigan said. “I’ve had enough of these little mice.”
This was met with good-natured jeers.
As she and Tegan left the Rider wing, she reflected that as much as the play was a farce, it had a more serious subtext. Tegan explained the play had been based on a real person from the distant times before Sacoridia had had a high king and the Sacor Clans were tribes spread across various territories, the clan chiefs governing their tiny realms like petty kings. According to history, they were constantly at war with one another.
One clan named a woman to be their chief, which was unusual in those days. Her rule proved hard and she nearly drove her territory into ruin by loving her treasures and horses more than her people. The people rebelled and severed her head, or worse, depending on who was telling the story. Much of the truth of the tale was lost to the darkness of time, but the play served as a cautionary tale for those with power to wield it wisely and well. In the last act of the play, Queen Oddacious’ husband transforms from a horse into a handsome warrior and slays her. All the mice feed on her flesh.
Karigan rather wondered if the play were more a warning specifically to women who dared aspire to power from men who loathed the mere thought of being ruled by them. Tegan said the play had enjoyed a resurgence in popularity during the reign of Queen Isen, who had not shown the least tendency toward despotism.
It was a long walk to the ballroom and Karigan caught more than one amused look cast her way from servants and other castle personnel.
The strains of music grew as they approached the ballroom, and when they paused near the entrance, Karigan’s spirits sagged as she observed ladies and gentlemen in very sophisticated attire streaming through the entrance. Just as she imagined, the gowns of the ladies were exquisite and the costumes understated. In her Mad Queen Oddacious costume, she would stand out like a dandelion among roses.
“Time for your mask,” Tegan said.
“Right.”
As Tegan tied the mask on, Karigan felt like she was wearing blinders; it cut off her peripheral vision.
When Tegan finished, she stepped into Karigan’s view. “Remember,” she said, “you are Queen Oddacious and the world is your tart.”
“Oh, gods,” Karigan murmured. There was another line from the song about Queen Oddacious’ love of tarts, followed by other vulgar verses that rhymed with it.
“Have fun,” Tegan said. “It’s not everyone who gets to attend the king’s masquerade. Besides, if you don’t want anyone to know who you are, you don’t have to remove your mask.”
Then how, Karigan wondered as she approached the entrance, would anyone know that the king’s knight and Green Rider was here to show her support for him if she did not reveal herself? Where was the logic in that?
With a sigh she stepped up to the door where guards checked invitations.
