Chapter Nine #2
The afternoon sun caught me right in the eyes as I smiled for another photo.
I could tell by the slant of the light and the way it painted the trees a certain bright green that it was getting late.
We were going to have to hurry now to get to the joust. I confirmed the time with a quick glance at my phone, then I turned to collect my Queen.
Today had gone by fast, between the new chess match choreography and the new Queen to herd around the Faire.
Stacey had given me a lot to think about.
Maybe I didn’t need to check the job postings tonight.
It could wait till Monday. There was a whole new day of Faire tomorrow.
More chess matches to watch, more jousts to cheer for.
More songs to sing along to. I could try spending a little time living in the moment too.
Take a cue from those high-up treetops and let myself breathe.
—
I didn’t look for Alex the next morning.
When I told Nina I could do my own hair and put it up in that simple twist myself, I was just helping her out.
When I bent to look in the mirror propped up outside the dressing tent, making sure there were tendrils of hair curling down around my face and then slicking on another layer of pink lip gloss, I was just confirming I looked good before the day started.
When I headed up the hill out of the Hollow, I was just stretching my legs, getting in a little quiet before the day began.
Okay, yeah, I was heading down the side path that Alex had shown me the day before, picking my way through the trees until I made it to the hidden clearing.
But that was because I really liked the spot; it was quiet, the peace there was practically tangible.
And maybe my heart dipped when I realized I was alone there, but that wasn’t because I was looking for him. Not at all.
My initial disappointment quickly turned to apprehension—what if he showed up and saw me here?
I might have to admit something that I wasn’t ready for.
I left fast, all but crashing through the trees until I made it to the lane, brushing off my skirts and checking my hair for stray leaves.
On my way back down to the Hollow, I paused at the same leatherworker’s booth.
My mom had a rule: If you really wanted something, think about it overnight.
If you still wanted it the next day, maybe it was meant to be. And I still wanted that journal.
I unsnapped my belt pouch, my fingers closing around my credit card as my eyes roamed the table. It jumped out at me immediately. The green leather journal.
“Anything you were wanting?” The leatherworker had just finished setting up her cashbox and turned to me now. “Twenty percent off, you know. Cast discount.”
I’d already intended to buy it, but now I snatched it up.
Twenty percent off? It was a waste to not buy it, honestly.
Girl math! But it still felt irresponsible, handing over my credit card for such an extravagant purchase.
What did I need a journal for anyway? What was I going to write?
Dear Diary, I’m twenty-four, unemployed, and living with my mother.
I’m spending the summer with the first guy I ever loved, who is annoyingly hotter than ever.
He gave me a leather rose yesterday, Diary.
What does it mean?? But I reminded myself to breathe.
Live. One leather journal wouldn’t send me careening into bankruptcy.
She handed me my new purchase in a small paper bag.
I had just enough time to get back to the Hollow and stow it away before things got going.
Another day of escorting around a new Queen.
I had hopes that this one would stick, but I’d seen Stacey pull at her dress more than once yesterday.
That costume didn’t fit her very well; asking her to do this for two more weekends might be a mistake.
Speaking of which…I turned my attention back to the leatherworker. “What do you think of the new Queen? Any better than Emily?”
She grinned. “I can’t believe you got Stacey to do it. Now, she’s someone I never thought I’d see as Queen. Are you sure she fits the part?”
“What do you mean?” Even though I’d been thinking the same thing, I immediately got defensive on Stacey’s behalf. Who says we can’t have a fat Queen? That spoke to some kind of prejudice that pissed me off. “What’s wrong with Stacey being the Queen?”
But I should have known better. If any place in this world was a bastion of inclusivity, it was the renaissance faire.
“She’s too cheerful. Too happy. The Queen should radiate gravitas.
” She illustrated her point by standing up straighter, her shoulders back, almost looking down her nose at me.
“She’s doing her best, of course, and I’m sure that casual patrons can’t tell the difference.
She’s in the outfit, therefore she’s the Queen, right?
But…” She sighed. “I don’t know. You want to hang out with Stacey.
Have a boozy brunch with her. You don’t call her Your Majesty and hope she lets you keep your head. ”
I snorted. “Okay, I get your point.” And it was a valid one. The Queen should progress through the Faire as though she were under a spotlight, with the weight of her office as an accessory. She probably shouldn’t giggle as much as Stacey did with the patrons.
“I’ll talk to her,” I said, though that felt like an empty promise.
Who was I to tell Stacey how to be Queen?
It was up to Simon, or maybe Emily as his proxy, to give her notes on her character.
My place was next to Toby, at the Queen’s right side, just behind her shoulder, stepping forward to murmur in her ear whenever she needed to be gently herded to one place or another.
Besides, other things were on my mind when I got back to the Hollow with my new purchase.
“There you are!” Emily’s eyes danced with amusement as she reached behind her for something on the folding table where we all checked our makeup. “This was left for you.”
“I…” I stared in confusion at the rose in her hand. A real one this time. And it was pink. A warm, pale pink that matched my dress almost exactly, and its thorns were carefully trimmed away. “Where did this come from?” Why did I sound so grouchy about receiving a flower?
“Oh, I think I know!” Emily’s singsong voice matched her innocent smile as she handed it to me. “I saw the way you were looking at each other yesterday during the chess match.”
“I wasn’t…” But my protest died away as I looked down at the rose in my hand.
Because I remembered now, the way my heart raced when Alex had bowed before me, declaring himself my champion.
It was incredibly backward. Patriarchal.
But something inside of me, probably the same part that liked the swish of these skirts and yelling huzzah!
during the joust, swooned at the notion of having a champion.
At the idea of a man standing up for the woman he loved.
Loved? No. I’d gone there once already with Alex; I had no interest in going down that road a second time.
I frowned at the rose, but I still broke off the bottom of the stem and threaded the bloom into my hair.
That was putting too much meaning in one little flower. Sometimes a rose was just a rose.
But at the renaissance faire? Was it really?
—
The second day of Stacey MacLean’s reign was much easier than the day before. Stacey remembered where she needed to be, and she only referred to the chess match cheat sheet once during the first show.
I didn’t see much of Alex that morning. But I thought about him way too often, like every time I turned my head and the scent of the pink rose in my hair wafted by, my own personal perfume.
We’d arrived a little late to the chess match, so there hadn’t been any time for flirting or champion-declaring.
Instead, he merely bowed in my direction, and I dipped my head in return.
His eyes flicked to the rose and his smile widened.
I wasn’t sure how to feel about that smile.
Was he presuming too much? Did I want him to presume too much?
This had all been a lot easier when I’d hated him.
The rest of the day passed without incident, and before I knew it the sun was dipping in the sky and we were on the way to pub sing.
I installed Stacey in her place of honor, a bench at the center back of the audience, where she had a great view of the show and could also see and be seen without causing too much disruption.
Then, my job done, I stepped away, moving to the side of the audience, letting myself lean against a nearby tree.
Toby had already done the same on the other side of the stage, and we shared a tired but satisfied smile. We’d survived another weekend.
I shifted against the tree; my feet were killing me.
All I wanted was to strip down and shower.
I’d settle for getting off my feet, but the benches were all full.
Besides, taking a seat from a paying customer would be a total asshole move.
So I let the tree bear my weight while my mind wandered, fantasizing about comfy pajamas.
Some belly dancers had taken the stage, their accompanying music soothing and easy to space out to.
“How was your day?” I’d spaced out so much that I’d completely missed Alex sidling up beside me. I jumped as he leaned a shoulder against the opposite side of my tree.