Past and Present Reckoning

[Janice Olivia Monroe]

Flood gates open

Push out to sea

My inner child within

Grasp the silken braid

Of twisted emotion

Follow the memories

To catch up to me

Upon mercurial seas

Drifting, floating

Under a granite sky obscuring

A hidden sun gloating

Lost on an immense ocean

Lost in a fog of confusion

Reminisce and remember

Bury and forget

Ghost of the past

Hope of the future

Meld into one

One person, become

Past, Present, and Future: Teresa Aira

[Janice Olivia Monroe]

The realm was teeming with excess in the shape of books and in the quantifying value of language. Janice never ceased to marvel at any collection she acquainted herself with. Shelves of bound volumes beside rolled scrolls were as important to note as the people who sold the penny-pages attached to wooden pole. Hands in Turas Lan were stained with ink from the wood block of the press' fame. It was things like this, things that would be inconsequential otherwise that came to matter because it was the signal of a new age. Various languages competed for space in the air and on the page. Latin led the hall with revived Greek, only to find behind them moved the common venaculars of the people. While some would see this as the end of civilized culture, the loss of age-old mystery to the undeserving, Janice fell in the thick of it with no reservations.

When she had first arrived she was an easy target to pry and pick at. Awkward country mannerisms begging to be taken in and fashioned to one of the court swans. As she aged no one could deny she was lovely nor unwilling to appease the custom. What friends had been made soon married to attend other matters. Others adopted her cause out of pity. More had adopted it out of a misaligned desire contradictory to the pity displayed. It would be gratifying to watch the swan trip over her own gangly feet and hidden throat. When did it happen that her feet moved in perfect lines, her neck come out of hiding, and the body became the feathers to be admired? Her absence sparked no great talk among those accustomed to seeing her in the occasional sewing circle or the outskirts of a supper. It simply wasn't important enough. One month gave way to another though, then another, until her return warranted the phenomenon of notice.

Before Viscreed left she'd become the Lady deBrabant. Rumors abounded that the Austrian, in seeking a place for himself, used his wife as a token of advancement in the same audience where he was deemed a knight of the realm and she a strange office entitled 'The Lady of Letters, Master of the Archives". People spun the story around without having all of the details. It circulated a half yet intriguing morsels through the gossip circles, complete with an abandoned bride crying over the broken promises of her golden tomorrow and a knight who'd abandoned his post, betrayed them all in some scandal or other, and left his wife to suffer the consequences after she had fought for him in public against an Italian hussy, who besmirched Viscreed's own honor in the process. It was said she left for a variety of reasons: to follow her husband to Austria, on a pilgrimage of prayer for their souls. Until someone said that with the un-natural intelligence of the woman, she'd been sent out to Austria or some such place to broker agreements for the crown. Then, then it came to wind that she had beyond any Germanic country at all! On the day Janice set foot within the castle again on a September day cold enough to bleed in through the stones, their were no shortages of welcomes, kissed hands, or invitations to tell the story of her life beyond Griffin Court.

Only now did anyone notice the structure of her gown or that in the cold day it was lined with fur. Only now did any have any sense to see her hair was no longer a mouse's brown or that she was no longer too thin, uncoordinated, too shy, too locqacious, nervous, or a hinderance. Women began to look hard to find their equal inside the squares made by the weave of her hair snood or in the occasional jewel adorning her ears. Men noticed the shapely figure even if she had spurned them once for using her in their courtly 'games', it was still a striking difference. Janice could hardly know what to make of the curious eyes, the lacks of pity or malice, all replaced with curiosity and admiration. A part of her wished to move headlong from this place, find Lady Avalle, and ask if she knew anything of the rumors that suddenly made her eye-worthy. Most people would be pleased to be so noticed. She could only say a small fraction of her favored the attention because the remainder was wondering why it had come in the first place. Little did she know that something had arrived in advance of her.


"M'lady, this arrived before you did. We were told to deliver it to you when you'd come to court again." She bid her thanks, but stood near in dead shock. The letter was sealed with one of the baronial seals of Austria


To the Lady Debrabant,

My lady-wife. I call you this because what is joined by God man can not design to put asunder, nor any realm who thinks to host supremacy in these matters before the Holy Pope himself, who in turn takes his counsel from the Lord. We parted in a way that was not befitting of how a husband should behave to a wife, and thus I left you a wife alone and dishonored. I must apologize for this. Though the circumstances of my leaving I feel were in the right of any man who sought advancement of self in a land that would clearly give him none, is it not my place to love what you love to enough merit that it should have some place? I did not offer you counsel as your husband and lord as to what would become of me, or you, I only offered you anger.

I have been granted an adequete sum of land in Austria, and stand in good way with the court. All of my past transgressions now forgiven, matches with women of higher standing have been offered but how could I taken them knowing such vows were made with you? I do not consider you beneath me, nor subpar to any woman. Your intelligence and abilities, mildly tempered, would still stand in grand display in Austria. You would make for me still a suitable, loving, meek, and wonderous wife.

I pray that when you read this you will consider taking leave of the old land to follow me, your lord and husband, to Austria where we might begin again to make repiration of any damages the earlier part of this year had rendered. Take counsel with God, not with the secular means of this world. Search you the good and pious heart, and return to me.

deBrabant

[Janice Olivia Monroe]

Lady Janice deBrabant

Day by day life was becoming increasingly strange to navigate with a successful sense of where a woman ought point the compass of her being. Where should she go, by what means? What ought she do in a world gone crazed with its own excess? Not so long in number of hours passed since she opened the letter that now burned white-hot against hidden slit of storage at the hip of her gown. If she were for extremes, Janice would think her limb would burn off somewhere with the indignity of returning to that Austrian betrayer or with his sheer daring at invoking All-Mighty God for vows he had no mind to keep! What was it Ana-Catalina had said - ah yes - men are not strong enough to carry the weight of original sin. God saw that man was alone, so created him a help-mate. What then would assist a woman when the world of men made no sense? Having exhasuted herself in the management of the Court texts, she sought the Gardens of the Castle for reprieve. (d)

Dowager Aunt

Being a Dowager of some respect, with a long life and healthy children gone onto greatness if by nothing more than her own powerful means and ambitions. So there was a moment of mental reprisal for the young lady to whom she had married her nephew. I mean, really, in what age did they live that a woman could be so disrespectful to her Lord and Husband? It was simply beyond her scope of understanding. Highing herself off in the style of Austrian grandieur that had long been afforded to her from her own long dead husband, hair scraped up and hidden beneath away, skin loose around the jowls yet with eyes that missed nothing. And a body long gone to fat and folds tucked and stuffed intorigorous stays and skirts. That she was stopped by a footman before she could find whom she sought only made the jowls flap harder than when she was simply walking about. "I will not be refused. I shall be seen. Go and find her." She wasn't about to take "no" for an answer, now was she. Not Maria-Eugenia of Hambeurg! (d

Lady Janice deBrabant

She would have created a pretty picture sitting just so under yon archway's fading golden blooms, watching the famed yellow-gold expanse dissolve under Fall's tyranical assault against all things still clinging to summer. Alas, the footmen was in no interest for poetry. Gossip in any court is a thing of joy which all cling to as it meant one's ruin, advancement, or merely something delicious for the mind to feast on during a time of banality. No summer festivities had went on for the King and Queen had been called to oversee matters of the clans, thus leaving their courtiers starving for mischief. " M'lady, m'lady if it please you, I pray it please you..if not insist." Rare to see a footman ramble beyond the leave of his place. Was he trying to warn her? Poor thing, she's going to be eaten alive he thought. "There is the Dowager of Hambeurg to see you, she insists." He bowed in an awkard way that reminded her of not so long ago when the cloister turned her out a girl at her majority with no clue of the world. "It should please me to receive her, will you escort her to the Garden?" Indeed Autumn had come to kill the Summer. Was it youth's folly to think such things were so easily done? (d)


Dowager Aunt

She would be seen, and the beauty of the change from gardens glory in Summer to the faded whispers of death to come in Winter was completely overlooked by eyes that she feigned were still as youthful and bright as they had been as agirl. Only, they were a little more rheumy, and perhaps the lids of them drooped lower but never no mind. Stalking forward, for she was too large a woman to simply glide as was considered comely, she came to rest with plump hands encompassing the head of a polished cane. Her garment was fine, her perfume a cloud of scent better suited to a girl of fifteen rather than a woman of sixty! For all she might look an oversized sweet dainty, the firm line of her mouth said otherwise. "You have received word, I am assured from my nephew regarding your current state, have you not?" It wasn't like her to go about with pleasantries. (d

Lady Janice deBrabant

"Madame -- " a great, fat thing impersonating woman was toddling toward Janice on a cane only to arrive in a cloud over oversaturation that was beginning to burn her eyes! The woman hadn't aged gracefully, but Janice would say nothing of the sort,she only lowered to the woman of advanced age in a curtsy worthy of Inveryne's approval before she offered the aged woman the place she had been sitting with a delicate hand. "Yes, Madame, I have received your nephews letter just this very day, I am told it has been waiting, so if it is such I am sorry that you, yourself waited overlong."Her eyes turned down in the curtsy to suggest submission based on age, quality, but she couldn't log down too long lest she memorize the way the woman's body moved in each step. God forbid. (d)

Dowager Aunt

It was perhaps better than she didn't spy how she moved. Clodding was an appropriate term, yet she still thought herself as graceful as a dove. She was, damn it all! "And what will you? Surely you can not deign to carry on as you will now? No matter what that damned Italian bigot says, you are married!" Marriage was holy, although she herself had often damned her own husband for his indescetions. It was something a woman kept to herself. And prayed to God know one else knew of. (d


Lady Janice deBrabant

"I will remain here madame, in the King's service. Your nephew's contrition is returned with friendship and forgiveness, but I can no more honor him in marriage." In another set of years passed Janice would have doubted the words coming out of her own mouth but she wasn't seventeen years of age tripping across her shoes, she was twenty-and-one.While many things in the world remained uncertain one thing that was not was that she stood here of her own merits,elevated by them and the patronage of others long before the Austrian designed to assist his faltering star by pinning it on her own. "I will reply that God has amended our transgressions, and wish him as I wish you now long health and excellent life, God save you." Italian bigot? Age begets set ways, but behind the white shells of ear on the unseen backs, Viscreed's ears were scalding. Even with the often fickle mind of any man in rule, the man ruled Christendom as a descendent of St. Peter! A bigot? (d)

Dowager Aunt

That she would have the gaul to deny her nephew what surely was only his just due, set the flesh beneath her chin to waggling as she attempted to coax words from those thin, brightly painted lips. "God has amended nothing!" Droopy lids fell low now, veiling the schemeing and plotting of those cloudy eyes. "Especially not vows taken in all seriousness and severity. If you feel that he needs to come to heel, then it shall be so." But you are still married to him, my dear. Is what she hadn't said. No, not with the way she quivered and wiggled inside her bodice. It was the sheer enormity that someone wasn't going to do as they bid them that made it so. (d

Lady Janice deBrabant

Be it the effects of her perfume or the slap of skin in motion the possibility of losing her breakfast increased. Not a sign of discomfort on the face , "Why would I suggest such a thing? Madame, your nephew was not pleased of where he had taken service, and left, in such haste, as to have abandoned more than myself. He abandoned his King, whom he'd knelt before. His soul has been taken to task by the All-Mighty. My own has been so reprimanded and consoled. We are no longer married, if you wish I may produce the necessary documentation. I fear it will only be that, and not myself, you will take hence back to Austria." It dawned on Janice as hard as a morning after a month of black the name had remained because she had thought Viscreed merely another token set of letters in the many letters of the names she collected. Until of late, she'd never been comfortable with her place in the world! Neither gentry, nor poor, nor noble born what had she to do with anything or anyone? Had she kept his name in hopes to atone for the both of them, to make it something? In the presence of this woman who abused the privelege of pomanders and oils, she hated DeBrabant with a vengence. "My name is already amended, he may have his to bestow to a woman that will be meek , modest, greatful, and give him sons." (d)

Dowager Aunt

A thump of the cane's end hit the ground, which was still soft with Summer's touch. The action sent another wrinkle of skin to moving. Nostrils flared while she took in the largest breath that her corset would allow. "He is atoned for his own sins and wishes you back at his side. Where a good wife aught to be. I find it an insult not only to him, but myself as well that you would reject such an olive branch." Though honestly, the woman knew her nephew to be little better than a handsome dunce. It was because of his mother's ill bred blood no doubt. Seeing that the woman was obviously stalwart in her ideals garnered a misers portion of admiration. "Then you shall no longer be impinging upon the DeBrabrant surname then?" Which seemed, very obvious. (d

Lady Janice deBrabant

"Certainly not. He has it, and you, to do with it as you will. It will of course take some time for the court to adjust to such things, though it should truly be of little matter what I am called him or to you. Our cause is done. Quickly blossomed, quickly withered. I could not take an olive branch when there is no matter in my eyes to righten. " Her nephew was indeed that, a handsome dunce. Janice had fallen for the honey in his words but honey leaves one at a lack for sustinance when the river runs dry. He left her lacking, confused. She could writhe in the absence of her maiden-head or go forth from the cold bed a better woman. Besides, what man sends his aunt to simper in his place? She had little respect for him already, now it went even lower. "You are virtuous woman, Madame, to take up his case so. I pray you long health and reward. I hope he sees what family he has about him, and doesn't take advantage of so great a privelege." Were any in the garden with lingering ears, feigning not to hear but drinking it in? Some blossoms had withered, but others got fat on this little affair. Blooms spread out in skirts skittering at slippered feet to spread the news. "You have come quite a long way for one matter alone. You should enjoy the court, the city's offerings." (d)

Dowager Aunt

Chin warbling as she nodded curtly one last time, she decided it was better to take her leave rather than to attempt to wring blood from a turnip turned to stone by the cold. Decisions in mind and thoughts set, she would no doubt find another suitable young woman for her nephew. One who wouldn't be so learned or so vocal. Really, when she had first come to their court she hadn't been thus, but then her nephew had allowed her a free hand with her studious ways. It was something she herself would have snipped at the root had she but known. Learned women indeed! "I am a current guest of the Austrian Ambassador to the Celtic Court. I shall remain there for another four days before returning to the continent. Should you decide otherwise, I shall await word from you until then." Huffing and puffing now that she had said her peace, and a goodly deal of it, she turned on her heel without waiting for the younger woman to curtsey and left her with a wave of perfume and the lingering traces of perspiration on her brow. (d

Lady Janice Viscreed

What had this woman taken credit for? What had that damned Austrian told her, and where was she some months ago but a hidden entity? (Not as if one could 'hide' this Dowager Madame.) He came with his name holding woe for the sinscommited against the Duke of Lorraine which were not his, for baring his flag forth in a failing battle, leading a lost cause! Had this woman always been like his infernal Imperial cousin whom alleged to do what her Masters did on behalf of the foreign crown? She felt somewhere along the way he must have lied to her of her breeding, standing, and merits to which only endeared her more to the opposite side of the Dowager's campaign. As she passed by, she lowered herself in curtsy. One must do nothing to ruin relations with the other nations, so she was cordial, steadfast to manner. The odor of the woman hung thick, a rancid concoction of cheap perfume and sweaty flesh. "As you will Madame, good day." Said more to her rear than her forefront, given the quick way in which she cobble hobbled past. So as that it was done. From deBrabant to Viscreed again, until the truth of being the wife of a first born Cheiftain's son, the wife of deAquitaine's apprentice came to light and she'd be Monroe. It would be a glorious day indeed (d)

[Janice Olivia Monroe]

Janice had to step no less than ten paces from where the woman held her audience in order to breathe fresh, clean air again. Part of her throat closed, choking on the rank of the perfume...or was it the audacity of the past to show itself, trying to force open her secret world? For all the things to be shown, all the want people have of being seen the more she was thrust to the flore the more she felt they wanted to rape her of anything sacred. Precious points of light were confined in her heart just like a child keeps the lightning-bug inside of a jar. Never opened again they suffocate. Yet, how long could you look at the dancing lights without having to join the stream of lights, lost in their rise and fall?

That's what it was like to live suspended between two worlds and pass between the looking-glass on a daily basis. Now in the world of the sun she had suddenly climbed the golden stair all courtiers wish to ascend to have validity. A sensation made of stories only she was not so easily broken as she continued to stand. No one spoke to her before but now some found her admirable. There was no hiding what was now as meager whispers when the woman she now knew to be Maria-Eugena of Hambeurg, stayed as a guest of the Austrian Ambassador. Opinions would be many and the notice would be infinite. She had gone in a second chrysalis after the age of eighteen, after a night only opportune intrigue artist new about, to emerge ripped from it the woman who remained after the Austrian only to refuse another.

Her head swam so she stayed in the garden until the air wiped clean her thoughts. She had never thought of a time to inquire of the others a need when so much had been given, but she needed the advice of Inveryne more now than she ever did as a girl.