The Ambassador's Daughter
Prologue to Chaos, Chapter 3, Scene 2
Diana Dal Meara stepped into the library of her family’s home on Brightstar Street.
She saw her tutor, and stopped. She had always found him sitting when she arrived for her morning lesson, his attention on a set of notes laid out on his desk. Today, he was standing in the center of the room.
Something is up, she thought to herself.
She felt a sudden thrill of anticipation, but did nothing to betray her excitement. Instead of closing the door as she usually did, she came a few paces into the room and stopped.
“Good morning, Master Edgar,” she said. “I am here for my lesson on Dorian civics.”
Master Edgar bowed to her. “There has been a change of plan, my child,” he said curtly. “The ambassador has instructed that we join him immediately in his office.”
He gestured toward the doorway behind her, and her eyebrows arched. There was a note of tension in his voice. Whatever was going on, he clearly did not approve of it.
He followed as she walked from the library, through the sitting room, and down a hallway. The door to her father’s office was open when she arrived. He stood inside, looking out a window. He made no move as Diana entered and dropped into a formal curtsey.
“I have brought your daughter, as ordered, Your Excellency,” she heard Master Edgar say.
There was a long pause. She held her curtsey, head bowed, waiting for her father’s voice. That was protocol. And protocol was something that one did not fail to observe in the presence of Damien Dal Meara.
“Thank you, Edgar,” her father said finally. “Please close the door and remain to attend our discussion. You may rise, my daughter.”
Diana lifted her head and stood at attention. “Good morning, Father,” she said.
She smiled as he stepped toward her. He took her shoulders in his hands and briefly kissed her forehead. She smiled as he stepped back, looking at him with disciplined affection.
“Good morning, Diana,” he said. “Are you well today?”
Protocol, again. She knew what was expected. There was no hesitation in her reply.
“I am well, Father,” she said. “Is there something that you require of me?”
He nodded. “Yes. I’ve asked Master Edgar to bring you to me to discuss a matter relating to your education.”
A flicker of uncertainty passed through her. Had she received a poor mark from one of her instructors?
“I hope that my performance has been satisfactory?” she asked cautiously.
The ambassador’s eyes turned to look behind her. “Master Edgar?” he asked.
“Lady Diana’s instructors all report that she is doing well in her studies,” Master Edgar said.
The ambassador nodded. “As expected,” he said.
He picked up a letter from his desk and handed it to her. “Please read this aloud,” he ordered.
Diana opened the letter and looked at it. It was written in Carlissan, using the northern dialect common in and near the capital city of Lannamon. She recognized the seal of the Grand Academy.
“‘Your Excellency,’” she began, “‘I have received your letter of Floren the third, and its inquiry about enrolling your daughter in the academy’s new junior scholar’s program. Please accept and convey our compliments to her on the very impressive transcripts that you provided.
“‘After a careful review of Lady Diana’s academic credentials, and having made the appropriate inquiries through Dame Marjeune’s office at the palace, I am pleased to inform you that she has been accepted into the program. It will begin with an introductory course on the subject of philosophy. The first lecture will be held on Floren the sixth at ten o’clock.
“‘Given the shortness of the notice, I have directed that this letter be brought to you by courier immediately. Please make arrangements with Dame Marjeune for Lady Diana to join her entourage from the palace in the morning. We look forward to having her as a student at the academy.
“‘Sincerely, Alfred Lander, Dean of the School of Philosophy, The Grand Academy of Lannamon.’”
A rush of excitement ran through her. She was to attend a course at the Grand Academy! And not only that, but she was going to study the philosophy of this wonderful land that her father had brought them to!
She fought to control her breathing as she looked up, to keep her expression carefully controlled. She knew her father’s expectations. An overt display of emotion at this time would be … frowned upon.
“This letter is dated yesterday,” she said carefully. “The class it describes is today.”
“Yes,” her father said. “I sent Bran with a note to Dame Marjeune to expect you. Karl will escort you to meet them as they come down the palace road.” He lifted the timepiece that hung from a short chain at his belt and glanced at it. “You will need to be ready to leave in ten minutes.”
She nodded. She fought to keep the eagerness from her voice when she spoke.
“As you wish, Father. I will need only a few minutes to fetch my pen and a notebook, and to brush my hair.”
She waited for the expected dismissal, but it didn’t come. Instead, her father’s eyes moved to where Master Edgar stood behind her.
“Your tutor does not approve of this assignment,” he continued. She was surprised to hear that her father’s tone had become conversational, almost amused. “Is that not correct, Edgar?”
There was an intake of breath behind her. When her tutor spoke, however, his voice was measured and controlled. Of course, Diana thought. That was protocol.
“No, Your Excellency,” he said firmly. “I do not.”
Her father’s eyes returned to her, and he smiled.
“Master Edgar and I have observed in your demeanor an unusual … fascination, shall we say, with Carlissan culture,” he explained. “He thinks that it should not be encouraged, and has advised an increased emphasis in your studies on the ways of our Dorian homeland. To help remind you who your people truly are.”
A flush of dread washed over Diana’s skin. She knew that the color in her face was betraying her emotions, and that it was not protocol — but she could not stop it.
“I see,” she said slowly. “Is this why I have been allowed so little time at the palace as of late?”
He nodded. “Such fascinations are understandable in a girl who has spent much of her youth in foreign lands. It may, however, indicate the need for an adjustment in your education.”
“Then why send her to attend classes that expose her even more to such foreign ways of thinking?” Master Edgar asked.
The ambassador shook his head. “You give my daughter insufficient credit, Edgar,” he said. “She has the discipline — and, as it turns out, the opportunity — to place this interest of hers in the service of her people.”
Diana struggled with her emotions. Her father’s compliment was an unprecedented break in his normally severe manner. She fought to slow her racing heart, and to control the pride that she was certain now colored her cheeks.
“I don’t understand,” Master Edgar said.
“No, I would imagine not,” the ambassador said. His voice held just a hint of amusement. “Tell me, Edgar. Under whose guidance are these courses being prepared and taught?”
“The Grand Academy of Lannamon,” Edgar replied cautiously. “More than that, I do not know.”
“Yes, well, fortunately, I do. Their involvement is behind the scenes, but the program is being spearheaded by the royal family. Prince Aron in particular, and through him, the Archmage.”
A light went on in Diana’s mind. “The reform movement,” she said.
“Very good, Daughter. That is why we did not return to our homeland last year, after my term as ambassador to Rayche. The Inner Circle is concerned about the significant cultural and political changes occurring in Carlissa. They needed someone to report on them. To assess their meaning, and whether they could pose a threat to our people. I was sent because I could be relied on to carry out that mission effectively.”
“What does that have to do with Lady Diana, and these courses?” Edgar pursued.
The ambassador turned to her. “Demonstrate your cleverness, Daughter,” he ordered.
Diana understood, now. The heat drained from her face, and she held herself with an air of confidence as she spoke.
“The Archmage is widely understood to be the architect of the reform movement,” she explained. “He seeks to guide Carlissa toward a new way, and to change many of its most ancient institutions. Some factions oppose him, but King Danor and Prince Aron share his vision. If these courses were developed under their guidance, then a student could provide valuable insights into understanding that vision.”
The ambassador nodded. “Full marks,” he said.
“So I am to report on what I learn in these classes?”
“Yes, in detail. You will attend in particular to how these new ideas contrast to the ways of our own land. You will write a bi-weekly essay that we will meet to discuss, and that I will grade personally.”
She nodded. Her green eyes were shining. “Yes, Father,” she said.
He walked to her. To her astonishment, he placed his hands again on her shoulders, and looked into her eyes.
“You are now seventeen years of age, my daughter. And I think it is time that you were given — and trusted with — a new responsibility to your people.” He glanced over her shoulder at Master Edgar. “To help remind you who you truly are.”
She merely nodded. She didn’t trust herself to speak.
He stepped back and checked his watch again.
“You may go,” he said. “You have only three minutes left to prepare, and to meet Karl at the front gate, so you will need to hurry.”
She curtsied. When she rose, she turned and strode from the room — as fast as protocol would allow.
Next: Chapter 3, Scene 3 - The Grand Academy
