“This is outrageous. He should not even be here. He was explicitly
barred from attending the ceremony. Guards, arrest him.”
“Guards, stand to,” Kristoph responded. “Let him have
his say.”
It was Lord Mírraflaex who had demanded the young man’s arrest.
He and Lord Drogban were both on their feet. Both looked ready to explode
with anger. But the guards obeyed the order of the Lord High President
who overruled everyone else.
“Let’s start with a simple question,” Kristoph said,
turning to the interloper. “Who are you, exactly?”
“I am Orin,” he replied. “Of the House of Salaza.”
There was a contemptuous sound from Lord Mírraflaex. Lord Drogban
merely looked embarrassed.
“He is my secretary,” the father of the bride explained. “And
it is true that there was a friendship between him and my daughter, but
a wholly inappropriate one which I thought had been set aside.”
“Father!” The bride turned to him with a pleading note in
her voice but he turned away from her.
“This is outrageous,” Lord Mírraflaex repeated. “Arrest
this trespasser and let us continue the ceremony.”
“I’m afraid that is impossible,” Kristoph replied. “An
objection has been raised. It is the right of any citizen to do so. The
ceremony must be halted while his claims are investigated.”
Lord Mírraflaex grunted angrily, but he had been overruled by the
law enforced by the word of the Lord High President. He had no choice
but to accept the situation.
“Marion,” Kristoph said, looking at his wife. “My dear,
will you take the bride to my chamber to rest a little while in a quieter
atmosphere.”
Marion was startled to be summoned into participating in this painful
scene instead of merely being a spectator, but she stood and came to the
girl’s side. She was so stunned by what had happened that she let
herself be drawn away without protest. Two guards stepped into place behind
them as they walked away. All eyes were on them, of course, and the door
seemed a very long way off as the disrupted bride tried to keep her dignity
intact.
“Lord Mírraflaex,” Kristoph continued once they were
gone. “You and Lord Drogban go to the treasurer’s chamber
and wait until I am ready. The groom can be accommodated in the Chancellor’s
office. Young man, come with me.”
The last was to Orin Salaza. He looked terrified, but the President’s
instruction could not be ignored.
It was quiet beyond the great door, away from the murmuring of startled
wedding guests and the outraged exclamations of Lord Mírraflaex.
It was even quieter in the President’s own Chamber. The walls and
even the door were designed to cut out any exterior sound so that the
President had perfect peace in his private rooms.
“Sit down,” Marion told the girl. “Would you like some
tea? It is very good for shock. And this has certainly been a shock to
everyone. You really didn’t expect this to happen, did you?”
“I… don’t know what ‘tea’ is,” Anneka
replied.
“Try some.” A silver samovar that kept water hot at all times
and a teapot and other accoutrements of tea-making were a feature of the
President’s Chamber these days. It didn’t take long for Marion
to prepare some. Anneka tasted the foreign brew cautiously. It was distraction
enough from her own problems for a few moments.
“No,” she said. “I didn’t expect him to do anything
so… precipitous. I told him it was impossible. My Alliance to Halliv
Mírraflaex was all arranged. I thought he understood.”
“I’ve never heard the surname Salaza before,” Marion
said. “He said ‘House of Salaza’ so he must be Newblood
at least, not a Caretaker….”
“He is the last of his House,” Anneka explained. “His
mother died in childbirth. His father… died shortly after being
declared bankrupt. He speculated heavily on some foreign commodity exchange.
I don’t quite know the details, but the family were ruined.”
“When you say his father died….” Marion ventured.
“Yes, it was by his own hand. Again, I do not know the details.
It was some years ago. Orin was still at school. My father… had
also invested in the failed enterprise, but not so heavily. The loss was
not so acute. He felt a responsibility for Salaza’s son. He supported
his education and gave him the job as his secretary.”
“That was good of him,” Marion said. “Your father is
generous… kind.”
“Yes, he is. But… but he is an Oldblood. When it came to selecting
a husband for me… his only daughter… it had to be a son of
a well-founded family.”
“Did you tell him how you felt about Orin?”
“I did,” she answered. “He told me it was just a youthful
fancy and I should set it aside. He said that Halliv would make a good
husband. And… I am sure he will. I have known him for many years.
I think I could be happy as his wife. I meant to be. I told Orin he had
to let me make my own choice.”
“But is it your choice?” Marion asked. “Or simply what
everyone expects of you?”
“I…” She shook her head. “I am an Oldblood. They
are one and the same thing.”
“No, they’re not,” Marion assured her. “Even for
an Oldblood.”
“What sort of life would we have? Orin has nothing without my father’s
patronage. Not even a home. Halliv is his father’s heir. Our future
is assured.”
That still seemed to be somebody else’s logic, Marion thought. The
girl had been coached to say such things.
The chamber door opened. Orin Salaza stepped in, followed by Kristoph.
Marion glimpsed two guards taking up position outside the door before
it was closed firmly. Nobody else could enter without express permission.
Anneka said nothing as her penniless sweetheart crossed the room and embraced
her. She didn’t have to say anything. Her actions spoke volumes.
They kissed urgently, knowing that the time they might have to do so was
short. The wedding veil fell from her shoulders as they clutched each
other tightly.
“Let us give them some privacy,” Kristoph said to his wife.
“You sit in the ante-chamber. I need to speak to the groom next.
Then the two fathers. I doubt there will be an Alliance today, but we
might get to the bottom of all this.”
Marion did as he said. The two guards remained in the ante-chamber with
her, guarding the inner door. She had no doubt that there were more of
them in the corridor outside. She felt assured of the peace and quiet,
at least.
But that was all she was sure of. What was going to happen to these young
people? It was quite clear that Anneka loved Orin, and he was prepared
to go to any lengths to be with her. But her father was never going to
allow it, and Lord Mírraflaex looked ready to commit murder.
And what did Halliv, the groom, think of it all? He had said nothing when
Orin disrupted the ceremony. Was that because his father was saying enough
for everyone?
The answers to some of those questions were forthcoming. Kristoph returned
to the ante-chamber with Halliv Mírraflaex and asked Marion to
bring Anneka out to speak to him. She did so. The two of them were both
in their wedding clothes, but it was obvious when they looked at each
other that continuing the ceremony was impossible.
“Do you love Orin Salaza?” Halliv asked very simply.
“Yes, I do,” Anneka replied.
“If we married, would you still love him? Would your feelings for
him come between us?”
“I think they would,” she answered him honestly. “But
if you insist on continuing, I have no choice but to accept my fate.”
“I don’t want you to see an Alliance with me as your ‘fate’,”
Halliv said. “I like you, Anneka. You are from a good family and
would make a suitable wife. But if you are not going to be content with
me… then I release you from the terms of our Betrothal. I hope you
will find the happiness you seek.”
“Thank you,” Anneka said to him. He clasped her hand and leaned
forward to kiss her cheek gently, then he turned and left the room.
“That is an honourable man,” Kristoph said. “I think
he will make a good husband to some young lady in the course of time.”
“I hope so,” Anneka said. “I will have to change out
of this dress, soon. The diamonds… belong to him now.”
It seemed a strange consideration, but in these circumstances it was hardly
surprising that she wasn’t acting entirely logically.
“I’m afraid you ARE going to have to face your father, now.
And that isn’t going to be as easy or as gentle as breaking off
your betrothal. He is angry and humiliated. He and Mírraflaex have
argued bitterly about the financial arrangements. I have had to ask the
Chancellor to mediate a settlement between them.”
“My father thinks this is all about money,” Anneka responded.
“So does Lord Mírraflaex.”
“The Mírraflaex family always have been about money,”
Kristoph observed. “But now you and Halliv have formally dissolved
your arrangement in my presence there is no reason why you should have
to speak to them. Your father is another matter, and I don’t think
I’d better leave him pacing the corridor for much longer.”
“Let him come in,” Anneka said. She sat down in a chair. Marion
sat beside her. She looked like she needed the moral support. Lord Drogban
entered the ante-chamber. He looked at his daughter. For a moment, there
was a flicker of sympathy, understanding. But then his face hardened.
“You have humiliated me in front of everyone,” he said. “Mírraflaex
has only just been appeased by the promise of financial reparation. You
have made a fool of yourself before all of Gallifrey.”
Anneka didn’t reply. Every one of the accusations was true.
“I renounce you. You are no longer my daughter. I take no further
responsibility for you, morally, legally or financially. Go where you
will. You are no concern of mine.”
He said all of that before the Lord High President. It was legally binding
and could not be undone. Anneka simply gasped in shock. She didn’t
try to plead. She knew there was no use. Lord Drogban turned and left
the ante-chamber without another word.
Marion looked at Kristoph in astonishment. Was this any kind of solution
to the problem?
He seemed to think so.
“Come back into my Chamber, both of you,” he said. Marion
held Anneka’s hand. She was trembling with emotion. Not surprisingly,
she ran to her lover and they embraced desperately again.
“I have just one question,” Kristoph said. “Orin, are
you a good secretary?”
“I… think so, sir. Lord Drogban never had any complaints about
my work. Only… my affection for his daughter.”
“I somehow doubt he would give you a reference for future employment
in the circumstances,” Kristoph added. “You are jobless and
penniless. So is your young lady. She has been renounced by her father.
You have both sacrificed much for your love.”
“Only money,” Orin insisted. “And possessions. My father
set so much store by those things he killed himself rather than live without
them. I will take a Caretaker job and live in a single room if I must,
as long as I can put clothes on our backs and food on the table.”
Anneka looked rather startled by the stark prospect her lover outlined.
Perhaps the consequences of being renounced by her father hadn’t
completely sunk in yet. It was difficult to imagine living in poverty
while wearing a dress of silk-satin covered in diamonds.
“We might do better than that,” Kristoph assured him. “Do
you know the Gallifreyan Ambassador on Minas Luimnea?”
“I know of him,” Orin answered. “But I have never met
him socially.”
“He is in need of a secretary,” Kristoph said. “It is
quite different work than secretary to the junior minster for the treasury…
a promotion of sorts. More responsibility, longer hours. The salary includes
quite a large expense account for clothing. The secretary and his wife
would be expected to attend diplomatic functions.”
“Sir… are you suggesting….”
“I am not suggesting anything. This is a day for decisive action.
There has been quite a bit of that already, starting with your dramatic
entrance into the Panopticon. I hope you realise that is not the way to
enter the State Ballroom at the Palace of Minas Luimnea?”
Orin took several confused seconds to realise that the Lord High President
had made a joke at his expense.
“I know that, sir,” he managed to say.
“Then I will let Bolar Lundar know that you are coming on the first
available diplomatic shuttle. His wife, Lady Hesthor, will be glad to
receive an accomplished young woman in the residence. And bear in mind,
the Ambassador has full powers to conduct Alliance ceremonies, and since
you are responsible only for each other, now, that can be arranged fairly
quickly.”
The two young lovers clasped hands hopefully. A little while ago all seemed
lost. Now they had a chance to live a dignified life together.
“We shall have to leave Gallifrey,” Anneka said mournfully.
“Under the circumstances, that may be the best thing. Lord Mírraflaex
has no business interests in the Luimnea system. He has never, to my knowledge,
attended any diplomatic function there. Nor has Lord Drogban.”
Anneka’s eyes betrayed the words she didn’t express about
her father.
“Would you like me to pass on a message to him?” Kristoph
asked kindly.
“Tell him I still love him, and I am sorry,” Anneka replied.
“That is all.”
“Very well. I shall arrange for the two of you to stay in a suitable
place in the Capitol until your travel arrangements are finalised. Lily
d’Argenluna is happy to make her city apartment available. That
expense account can be advanced so that you both have suitable clothing
to begin your duties as soon as you arrive on Minas Luimnea. Is there
anything else that I have overlooked?”
“No, sir,” Orin answered for them both.
“The wedding guests,” Anneka said. “They’re not
all still waiting, are they?”
“I believe they have gone to the reception hall for refreshments,”
Kristoph answered.
“You mean they are eating the wedding feast?” Marion asked.
Despite everything she couldn’t help smiling. “Paid for by
Lord Mírraflaex!”
Anneka and Orin managed to smile at that notion, too.
“I shouldn’t worry about any of them,” Kristoph said.
“Go with Marion now to the robing room and change out of that dress
into something more suitable and I will arrange a car to take you to the
apartment. Some food and an early night is what you both need, now.”
Later, when all that had been accomplished, Kristoph took Marion to dinner
at Valentins. In common with all the other restaurants in the Capitol
they were having a quiet night. Most of their patrons had been guests
at the Alliance and had no wish to dine out after the dramatic turn of
events – or perhaps because they were all satisfied by the food
at the reception. Anyway, the Lord High President and his wife were always
assured of a good table and they were served the best.
“You are a very kind man, you know,” Marion told her husband.
“You didn’t have to do what you did for them.”
“I married for love. So did my father and grandfather, and quite
possibly my great-grandfather, though stories about him are rather sketchy.
The idea of an Alliance of expediency does not sit well with the de Lœngbærrow
blood for all that it is acceptable in our society. If the girl had been
happy with the arrangement I would have allowed it. But when her hearts
lie elsewhere….” He smiled and raised his wine glass. “Here’s
to love.”
“To love,” Marion agreed.
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