Allegiance- Chapter One: The Six o'clock Meeting

Ere sunset, a lone figure strode into the monarch memorial park. The young lady walked with a purposeful gait, crossing rows of marble tombs inscribed with her ancestors' name until she reached a certain rest place. It was getting darker but the marble headstone winked at her, almost cruelly.

Crown Princess Claudia carefully set down the single Iris flower she had brought with her on the soil. Every week when she came, she brought a different kind of flower to lay on her brother's grave. It was a promise of sorts, a promise to always remember him. Forget-me-nots for remembrance, yarrows for health, daffodils for chivalry and cosmos to give him peace.

Iris flowers always gave him inspiration. He had painted one once, a lavender-colored bloom in the middle of a unyielding, dry meadow.

There had been a lot of tears in those visits. She still shed a tear and felt a stab of loss, but it wasn't as bad as before when she hated –and blamed- everyone. Even God. Now she only suffered in private. When Alexander died, some sort of disease grew inside her, feeding on her grief, until its roots completely strangled her. It tightened around her heart during times like these, when she was alone with her thoughts.

At least God understood. She'd often get a deep feeling in the innermost part of her, a sort of sense of security. That He cared. She ignored it at first –when she wanted no consolations, not even from the Big One- but then she began to understand. Sort of. It was a rocky relationship, God and her.

She closed her eyes, and listened to the sound of the world.

On a subconscious level, she knew she had other things she should be doing: over-seeing preparations for tomorrow's ball, making final checks on her gown for possible adjustments, revising Latin…

A few minutes passed before she stood up and decided that all those tasks could be done later, that it was nearly six o'clock, and that somewhere, a young gentleman was waiting to relay her all the latest tidbits of science.

Princess Claudia was navigating the corridors of the Eastern Wing, a candle in her hand to illuminate her path. A nearby grandfather clock chimed melodically, indicating it was six o'clock in the evening. Her intended destination lay a little ahead.

The Castle was mainly divided into four wings: the Northern, Southern, Eastern, and Southern wings. All wings had four subsidiaries. A subsidiary would be named after the floor it was located on. Usually subsidiaries were used to separate the living quarters but it also divided the offices, usually by department and importance. The office the Princess was heading to was located on the first subsidiary because it was of no importance, military-wise.

When she finally reached the oak door –a little breathless- she raised her hand and knocked on the door. She could hear the sound of shuffling, her friend was probably busy with paperwork.

"Come in, " said a quiet voice.

She turned the knob and entered a small-sized office that had just enough space for a desk, a bookshelf and a table in the middle of the room. A young man of two-and-twenty stood with his back to her by the desk upon which lay a year's worth of notes and observations which he was sorting into two piles. He straightened up and turned around as she stepped inside.

"Good afternoon, Princess, " James Longsong greeted her. "You've graced us for another evening."

She didn't wonder about his use of plural when he had been the only person in the room before she came. He often referred to his studies and himself as 'us'.

"You look tired, " he commented as he pulled back a chair from the table and motioned for her to sit.

"Astute observation, " she said, pulling back the other chair and pointed from him to it. "I'll sit if you do. Preparing a ball is no jest, I tell you. I had to go greet the guests from Dove City this morning."

'Had to' being the key word. Dove City was two days away from the Capital so the guests had to arrive a day early. The King forced her to come said that it was one of her duties, and she spent half an hour smiling blandly at the dukes and duchesses and their bratty children, asking about their journey and wishing them a good stay. At least her best friend –Lady Hulda , her cousin- was there to rib her if her smiles were scaring the young ones, thus avoiding making a scene.

When he sat down at the chair she pulled, she took a seat as well and picked up one of the papers that was in the pile waiting to be sorted. She only managed to read the title –Energy Conversion?- before it was plucked neatly from her fingers.

"That's embarrassing, that one, " he said. "It'll unlock the future when I'm done tinkering with it. Have you started with Two World System?"

"Not yet. I'll be lucky if I get past the title without interruption. Maybe I'll start tonight."

It's tough being the Heiress. She didn't say it out loud but it was still there; one of those things which didn't need to be said.

"I think you'll enjoy it. It reveals some truly fascinating facts. Its main idea is wrong though. See if you can find the incorrect theory, " he added before the Princess could open her mouth.

"Is that a challenge, James Longsong?" she asked, not breaking contact with his eyes. Blue into brown.

"If you wish to call it so…"

She hmmmed and pretended to give it some thought. She could never resist a challenge- and they both knew it. Finally she went, " Oh, just this once."

The deal was sealed and that was that.

They went on discussing other scientific topics from gravity and magnetism (the Princess's favorite) to the Royal Institution in England (and Angria's lack of one- something she vowed to change in the future).

"Any new from the  Institution?" she asked after a talk of the University of Angria, which James attended.

James shuffled through some papers that were separated from the ones he was sorting at the edge of the table. He stopped at a letter, pulled it out and scanned. He informed her that a certain professor stopped lecturing earlier this season-

"Why?" she inquired. During her one visit to Britain, the Princess had been to a few the widely popular lectures given by that very person. She even met him once. One reason why she went into lengths to meet him face-to-face was because he was a brilliant chemistry lecturer. Of course, the fact that he was handsome –though married- didn't hurt either.

"Lecturing was probably too much for him. He invented a lamp recently, " said James.

"I bet he named it after himself."

"Quite right, he did. I can't see why he'd bother associate himself to it, though. Pretty rubbish, it was."

"It could never be lit?" she guessed.

"Well, no, it's quite worse. It explodes if it got too warm."

"That's a pity, " said the Princess sadly. "The miners are the ones who suffer."

"And the firemen, " added James.

Firemen who accompanied the miners took candles on sticks with them, and were identified by the patches of fish-skin they wore over themselves, supposedly to protect themselves from explosions. In the Princess's mind, that was as effective as constructing a paper boat to protect one's self from drowning.

She forever heard that the highest death rates in the country came from cave-ins and explosions in the mines.

Taking out a piece of paper from a fold in her crinoline dress –it did have some perks, this ridiculous dress- she said, " James, come over here for a second." When he went around the table and was by her side, she showed him the drawing which she had sketched only the night before. "Remember that time when you told me about those safety lamps, the ones that Dr. Clanny made to help the miners? I read more on that in my spare time and found that it had a number of flaws: it was too large, it constantly needed adjusting and was in danger of exploding down the mines."

James nodded, intrigued. He remembered her saying she wanted a book on lamps not long ago.

She went on, " I thought about ways I can improve it –and fix its flaws- and I came up with this." She pointed at the top of the sketch. "It's not much, really. See the roof? I added a chimney. It's glass, you know, so now if there were any gases around, it'll instantly put out instead of exploding."

She was silent for a moment as she watched him study the sketch and read the notes she had written. She couldn't help but redden a touch. Why had she shown it to him? It was probably rubbish, and he was probably laughing at her ignorance. And then she realized how close he was standing to her, and that the expression on his face was not repulsion. It was, in fact, admiration. Admiration!

"Is it any good?" she asked, just to be sure.

"Any good?" he repeated. "I think you're just a step away from saving thousands of miners, actually! It's much reliable, much more efficient…"

"I know. It's marvelous."

"I didn't say that. It does need some fine-tuning, " he added.

"I'm glad you said that. Someone has to keep me humble, " she said and he laughed.

 "How about I patent this for you –under your name, of course- and-"

"No, " she interrupted, waving her hand as though the gesture could ward down his enthusiasm. "I have no desire to patent this under my name, nor will any profit will be given to me."

Her hand –the one that held the paper- was stretched towards him, and only a few seconds later did he understand she was giving it to him. "But it's yours, " he protested.

"You'll take it, " she said quietly but firmly. "I know what I'm doing. Please allow me to finish. When the idea of the lamp occurred to me, it was because you gave me the idea while we were discussing it. It was your idea. I've simply sketched it down for you. So it's yours. Do whatever pleases you with it."

"Is that an order?"

"James Longsong, are you accusing me of exercising the power of my title to force you to do as I wish?"

"Yes."

"In that case, yes, it is, " she said nonchalantly, feeling a tug as a root tightened around her heart.

Did he really think that of her? She wasn't that type of person, even her personal maid and friend said she wasn't bossy enough for a princess, to which the princess replied that she never ordered directly.  

"That came out wrong, " he said after a few seconds, reading her mind. She looked at him only to realize that he had seen her frown and interpreted its meaning.

"It did, " she agreed. "When is the new term starting?"

He didn't question the change of subjects and simply said, " Next month. Why?"

"Are you planning to show Professor Dubble your theory?"

"No, " he said firmly. "Nor will I ever."

"Selfish of you."

"Not selfish, smart. I haven't finished it yet."

"And when you have?" she prodded.

"I'll do as I like, " he replied with irritation.

"I trust I'll see you tomorrow at the ball, " she said, a number of seconds later.

He gave her an odd look. "I wasn't invited."

"Of course you were. I wrote the invitation list myself. It's probably lost among all the mail piling up next to your door."

The assumption was merely a guess, but it must have been right, for he suddenly looked sheepish.

"I'll check when I go home. Assuming that I do find it, would it be asking too much to request the last dance?" he asked casually.

Casually enough. Her mind suddenly thought of those times when they'd stop talking in the middle of a conversation, when she'd realize that James was a gentleman –a very intelligent one- but he wasn't one of the friends she could be seen with. That spending time with him, no matter how much she enjoyed it, was wrong. And he was probably thinking of something along the lines of her not being a fellow classmate, she was the princess. Well, this was one of those times.

She couldn't for the life of her pinpoint what err she was doing. They never did anything inappropriate, it was merely for the science. But everyone else would not look at it that way. They'd say it was wrong, to spend that much time every week with a gentleman who didn't have a coat-of-arms or a title.

 She did like him, but nothing more than a friend. She didn't know about him, though. She'd occasionally have the feeling during a dance that there was something he wanted to say, but then he'd just make a comment on the weather or the guests or some new theory he was developing.

 The truth is that at times like those, he, well, fascinated her. She couldn't tell what he was thinking most of the times, which ought to be worrying but it gave her some sort of puzzle to solve. He was jovial enough, but could get moody sometimes. And when he smiled at her, she made sure she didn't smile back every time.

"We'll see, " she finally said. That sounded right. Not too eager, nor was it a refusal. He could interpret it any way he wanted.

"Does that mean no else has answered the question?"

"No, and it'll probably stay that way for a long time."

She hoped he won't ask why, and he didn't. Relief draped over her like a well-needed blanket. She couldn't have told him the truth if he asked, could she? It would be a mistake.

And King Henry's daughter never made mistakes.