Chapter 3
A week passed in the blink of an eye. In truth, the time available for preparation was no more than five days. Not only Liberte, but especially Rosemary, felt as if her head might split.
“Honestly, couldn’t you have asked the duke to extend his stay at least a little?”
With her dark brown hair neatly braided and tied with a headscarf, Rosemary grumbled loudly enough for Liberte to hear. Even if she claimed she was leaving many things behind, sorting out only the bare essentials from the possessions that filled her large chambers was no small task.
Especially the library—though filled with countless books, it also concealed many things of importance to Liberte.
“Sorry. You know I couldn’t help it.”
Taking out a jewelry box she had hidden deep in a cabinet, Liberte gave a wry smile. Even if she was only packing what she needed, some tidying was unavoidable.
Of course, she would lock the rest away before leaving, but she could not be sure the chancellor wouldn’t plunder the place in her absence. He was more than capable of it. So the most important documents had to be burned, and anything tempting enough for him to covet had to be hidden.
Less than a week was simply too short. She could have asked the duke for more time, as Rosemary said, but she wanted to leave as quickly as possible.
Liberte sighed lightly as she sorted through the jewels. She had never cared much for ornaments, and had not collected them herself, but including her parents’ heirlooms and gifts she had received from others, the number was considerable.
As they were offerings to a princess of the empire, they were all luxurious, dazzling pieces. Finishing the desk, she folded her arms and glanced at the bookshelf, mumbling that perhaps it need not be touched. She then turned to Rosemary.
“How do you suppose I should take these?”
“You’re planning to take all of that?!”
Rosemary nearly screamed as she peered into the jewelry box beside Liberte. Perhaps not, Liberte thought, leaning back against her chair. Frowning, Rosemary studied the contents with a serious face.
“The best way would be to convert them all into coin, but… there isn’t time to exchange such gems right now. Besides, since many are gifts…”
Documents could be burned. Books and personal dishes, though regretful, held no value for anyone but Liberte and Rosemary, so they could be left. But these jewels—these could not be abandoned.
She had to take at least her parents’ keepsakes. And yet, she worried that the rest, so valuable, would only be irresistible bait for that looter. She was also concerned about burdening the duke and his lands.
Perhaps, in some measure, the jewels might serve in place of a dowry. Even if it was troublesome, she wanted to take them.
“Hm… perhaps it’s better just to take the whole box. If you try transferring them here and there, they might get scratched. Since the dangerous part is that they’re your belongings, why not entrust them directly to the duke?”
Rosemary, scrutinizing the box from all angles, spoke something outrageous. Liberte could hardly believe her ears—but the more she thought, the less foolish it seemed.
She could carry her heirlooms on her person, and entrusting the rest to the duke made sense, since they were bound for the North anyway. One problem solved by Rosemary’s idea. The timing of handing them over still needed consideration, but it seemed best to wait until they were already on the road.
“One big problem solved. Thank you.”
***
Before the imperial palace, rows of baggage wagons made Liberte scowl. How much had they prepared in so short a time! Inside, she saw golden tableware, blinding silver, even ornaments studded with jewels—an array of sheer extravagance.
Clearly, Oderi had gone to great effort for his sister’s wedding gifts. Proud of the lavish display, he beamed at her. The duke looked rather startled, while the chancellor was too busy calculating the value of the goods to spare them a glance.
“Your Majesty, I am grateful for your preparations, but…”
Swallowing a sigh, Liberte turned her gaze to her brother. One carriage for herself, and twelve baggage wagons. Her head throbbed.
No doubt it was the chancellor who had urged such lavishness, telling Oderi to make his sister’s wedding gifts magnificent. How black his heart was. Had the wedding ceremony been held, how much of the treasury would have been swallowed?
The thought alone filled her with rage.
“The road to the North is long. Such riches will only become a burden.”
Her voice, sharp and cold, made Oderi shrink at once, his shoulders drooping. Did he really think he would be praised for this? Stifling the urge to press her hand to her forehead, Liberte turned to the duke.
He, too, shook his head slightly, clearly thinking the load excessive. To think they did not understand the reason for his minimal retinue on a journey of over three months—disappointing.
“But sister…”
“Your Majesty, I know well the heart with which you prepared all this for me.”
Liberte gently cut him off. Approaching the gilded throne, she knelt on one knee at his side. Oderi looked flustered at the sight. He was older in years now, but still so young.
She thought how much better it would have been had she been able to teach him even half of what she had learned. Now it was far too late.
“Of course, I would wish to bring everything Your Majesty bestows, but the road is long and harsh. Both men and horses would soon be worn down, and feeding and sheltering them would be difficult. As you know, leading many is no easy matter—and I am not fit for such a task. I beg Your Majesty to understand my plight with a generous heart.”
Her tone was gentle, even affectionate, but her words, simply put, meant: “It would be too much trouble, so send them back.” Beyond his love for his sister, Oderi looked wounded, and she understood that feeling. So she continued.
“If Your Majesty truly wishes to give me a wedding gift, then please give me something I can carry with me always. Something that will remind me, wherever I am, of Your Majesty’s love. That alone will be enough.”
Smiling softly up at him, Liberte watched her brother’s disappointed face soon melt into a weak smile and a nod. Such a good, kind boy. She longed to ruffle his hair, but she could not anymore. That beloved boy was now the emperor.
“Then, sister, please take this…”
Fiddling with the sash of his uniform, Oderi produced something. On his palm lay a brooch: golden sepals, petals of black jet, stamens of vivid red garnet, and two dangling chains of tiny pearls.
Their parents had commissioned the matching ornaments for their children’s first birthday together before their mother passed away—one brooch for Oderi, one hairpin for Liberte. Toys, perhaps, but beautiful.
Ever since, they had each treasured them. Liberte’s breath caught. Her brother was giving her the treasure he had cherished since childhood.
She reached out and received it carefully in both hands. Looking up, she noticed the empty spot on his sash, the place where the brooch had always been. The mark was still visible. Catching her gaze, Oderi laughed sheepishly.
“I’m sorry it isn’t something more valuable.”
Liberte shook her head. She felt close to tears. She knew, as only his sister could, how dearly he had cherished it. She pinned it to the left breast of her simple bodice—the very place he had always worn it. Oderi smiled brightly. Liberte smiled back.
“Since Your Majesty has given me what is dearest to you, I hope you will also accept what is dearest to me.”
Loosening her hair, she let her long black curls tumble down. Rising, she pinned her own matching hairpin to the empty mark on his sash. The brooch’s place was filled once more. In that pin, she left her wish that it would guard her brother in her stead.
“This brooch from Your Majesty will always be with me. So may it remind you, that my heart is always by your side as well.”
Oderi jumped up from his throne, about to speak—but before he could, the blast of great horns rang out. The time to depart had come. The chancellor, having run about inspecting the wagons, returned dripping with sweat, blotting his forehead with a handkerchief. To him, Liberte spoke coldly:
“You’ve worked hard since morning, Chancellor. But you will have to work harder still. Return every last item in those wagons to its place. Of course, it is ‘by His Majesty’s order.’”
Her words, heavy with meaning, drained the color from his face. Red at first, then white, then faintly green. Liberte almost laughed aloud. He had surely reveled in seeing the wagons so laden. Did he truly think she would allow it?
But the impulse faded as she turned to say farewell to her brother—and saw Oderi, eyes brimming with tears. What could she do for this tender-hearted boy? She faced him squarely. Though taller than her now, he still seemed the same child who had once run to her, crying “Sister!” when she returned with their father.
“Sister. Before you leave, will you hold me once more?”
His face seemed ready to break into tears. Her gentle brother. Her soft-hearted brother, who with that kindness would one day become a benevolent emperor beloved by his people. Her brother, whom she did not know when she might see again.
Liberte looked up at his face, so like her own. She wanted to smile brightly to ease his heart, but could not. Instead, she embraced him tightly, as though he were still the small boy of long ago, and whispered as she had in their childhood:
“I’ll write to you, Oderi. Your sister will always be on your side.”
