#Rietta-Coleinette Bramard

[isfjmel-phleg]

The Other Side of the Door

This is a short story for Rietta's birthday, thrown together last night in one sitting I don't know how. She is about thirteen in this one, and she really, really doesn't want to talk to Normorot's daughter. Coleinette means well, on some level, but she's also thirteen and has no concept of tact.

Note: what I'm calling "four-hours" here is a literal translation of a French term for their equivalent of afternoon tea.

Rietta pressed her back to her bedroom door, clasping her hand and pleading silently to anyone who might be listening that the person on the other side would go away. She had been sitting there for an eternity—five minutes at least—and had long since grown bored. But the second she budged an inch, the unwelcome presence might hear and assume it was an invitation to continue speaking.

“Your Majesty?” said that maddeningly brisk voice for the dozenth time. “I know you’re in there. I would be delighted if you would come and have your four-hours with me. Your mother said she would make sure we have something especially nice.”

That probably meant pastries. Rietta’s hand drifted to the doorknob, but her other hand caught it in time and pulled it away. Not even for a rare treat would she ever bestow the dignity of acknowledgement upon Rietta-Coleinette Bramard.

Coleinette, with her golden hair and little disdainful nose. Coleinette, with her convent school education and endless accomplishments. Coleinette, with her large, lively family and horrid father—the Duke of Normorot, who had made Rietta and her mother’s existence a nightmare ever since he had got himself declared head of Rietta’s Regency Council. Rietta would never be at home to her, never.

Impatient toes tapped on the other side of the door. Rietta could practically see the delicate pointed slippers, the consulting of the diamond watch clipped to the spotless frock. She picked at a fray in her cuff and smiled to herself. This might be over sooner than she thought. Coleinette would return downstairs, and she would flounce straight to her father and inform him that Her Majesty had locked herself in her room again, and he would give Rietta’s mother another of his endless supply of lectures on proper child-raising. And Rietta’s mother would feel guilty and embarrassed and come looking for Rietta—

Not if she couldn’t find her.

Retreating into the grounds, where one could vanish into trees long enough for Normorot to lose patience and leave, without detection would mean climbing out of the window and down an adjacent tree. That would be no trouble; Rietta had been climbing like a monkey practically since she could walk. She knew every branch of that tree as instinctively as she did every step of the castle staircases. She would just have to try especially hard to manage her exit and descent silently, lest Coleinette suspect.

Rietta inched to her feet and tiptoed to her wardrobe. She couldn’t climb out of a window in this lacy white afternoon frock that her mother had insisted she wear for Normorot’s visit. Ruining one of her few presentable outfits was more trouble than even she wanted to risk today. She snatched the first day frock she could find, a faded yellow one that was getting a little too short for her and thus wouldn’t impede movement too much, and laid it over a chair while she contorted her arms behind her back to undo a long spine of tiny buttons.

“Your Majesty?” said Coleinette, a little less pleasantly. “I don’t know why you’re doing this. The sisters at my school would have me on kitchen duties for a month if I behaved like you.”

Was that supposed to make Rieta want to leave the room? If this was Coleinette’s best effort at conversation, she must not have picked up as many social graces at that wretched school as her father liked to boast.

“Of course,” added Coleinette, “it’s not entirely your fault. It’s just that you haven’t been brought up properly. My mother says it’s a shame how your mother lets you run wild without even a governess. She says you’re more like a creature from the gutters than a proper, educated royal lady. I feel very sorry for you. Really, I do.”

Rietta flexed her pained fingers and cursed every pearl-bead button on her frock. She would never escape this prison of a garment. 

“And,” the ceaseless voice of Coleinette droned on, “that’s why I asked my father to let me come with him today. I thought you could use a good influence. A friend.”

Halfway through kicking aside the finally discarded white frock, Rietta paused and stiffened.

A plaintive tone crept into Coleinette’s voice. “I wanted to have four-hours with you and perhaps take a turn around your gardens. Father says the grounds here are almost as beautiful as ours. And I hear you have an ornamental elephant.”

The larger buttons on the yellow frock were proving somehow as obstinate as the others. Rietta’s fingers couldn’t fly fast enough.

How did Normorot know about the elephant? She had certainly never brought him to see Eugène—hadn’t brought anyone there, in fact. Poor lonely Eugène—he deserved an admiring visitor—

…but not if it was this girl.

“And your mother said you like tableaux vivants. I’m quite excellent at putting costumes together. I adore doing it. You must have all sorts of old clothes stored away in the attics here.”

Surely it didn’t normally take this long to tie a pair of shoes. Rietta decided to skip the double knots and spare herself a few seconds.

“Tableaux vivants are always better with two people anyhow. I’ve always wanted to stage ‘The Vision of St. Liane,’ like in Julienade’s painting.”

That painting hung on the east side of the throne room of the palace in Dorin. It depicted St. Liane, a simple peasant maid attired in the lace-adorned traditional costume of her region, her rapturous face uplifted toward the blue-cloaked Lady instructing her to find the rightful prince in hiding and rally followers to put him on the throne. The figures were so exquisitely portrayed that they seemed to glow from within. Rietta could have stared at this masterpiece forever, and she would have given anything to portray St. Liane.

Before she knew it, she had shuffled back to the doorknob. The key waited in the lock, ready to turn—

“Your Majesty?” said Coleinette. “Pardon me. Perhaps you don’t know what I’m talking about. You’ve probably never had a governess stay long enough to teach you about St. Liane. And of course your mother wouldn’t know about Faysmond’s patron saints. Father said that I might find you were ignorant about some things and I ought to be patient with you. I can tell the whole story of Liane to you the way the sisters tell it; it’s so beautiful…”

#

Coleinette’s speech trailed off. She thought she heard a sound coming from Her Majesty’s room at last, a great clattering, as of something falling heavily.

“Your Majesty?” she called. “Do you need help?”

No reply. Typical.

Coleinette shook the doorknob and was surprised when it turned easily. She flung the door open, expecting to find Her Majesty injured and immobile on the floor.

All that awaited her was the silent greeting of battered furniture and belongings in disarray, a discarded yellowy-white frock wadded in a corner, and a slight breeze flapping the curtains pushed aside from the open casement. There was no sign of Her Majesty.

Coleinette ran to the window and peered down, heart pounding. To her relief, there was nothing but grass on the lawn below, but from behind a nearby tree whose branches brushed the stones of the castle walls, she spotted a flash of yellow skirt, then a figure running toward the gardens as if pursued by wolves.

With an indignant strength that made the window panes rattle, Coleinette slammed the casement shut. Silly, reckless girl. Did she really think no one would come looking for her outdoors? Or that there would be no consequences for rudely hiding from her guests?

It was no use trying to get through to a creature like that. Coleinette flounced out of Rietta’s room and down the stairs. She needed to speak to her father, immediately.

[isfjmel-phleg]

🌱 for Rachel, 👁️‍🗨️ for Rietta, 💛 for Rietta-Coleinette, 🐸 for Rieton, 🦷 for Estelle, ✨ for Elystan, 🧠 for Delclis, 🌨️ for Tietra, and 🗡️ for Bethira, if you please?

Rachel: 🌱 - Share one of this oc’s early memories.

...I feel like I've answered something like this for her recently? She probably remembers a lot of traveling. Endless voyages cramped in third-class cabins with the entire family.

Rietta: 👁️‍🗨️ - Eye contact: good or bad for this oc?

Good! Please, look at her! She would like more attention, and she's sure other people would like to be looked at too.

Rietta-Coleinette: 💛 - Are they ‘good with children’, or more awkward?

Probably adequately good? I don't know. She's got younger siblings, but I don't know yet what her relationship with them is like.

Rieton: 🐸 - What’s this oc’s sense of humor like?

No idea. She's loosely based on a cousin of mine (who has a very jokey, persistent sense of humor if I recall correctly), but I haven't properly introduced Rieton in person, so I don't know yet what direction I'm taking with her.

Estelle: 🦷 - Would this oc ever bite someone?

No, not unless absolutely desperate. She's been raised in a very manners-conscious household, and biting or any other form of violence is Not Tolerated.

Elystan: ✨ - Tell something that makes this oc feel happy!

Talking! Talking about something he's excited about to someone who is listening and catching his excitement, and then they say something interesting back, and it's a fun game of tossing ideas around.

Delclis: 🧠 - What is their stress response: fight, flight, freeze, or fawn?

FREEZE. He's been in that state nearly constantly since becoming king. His ministers are deeply irritated with him for it.

Tietra: 🌨️ - If this oc had a day free from all their responsibilities, how would they spend it?

Long walk, maybe. Something quiet and solitary.

Bethira: 🗡️ - Does this oc have a signature object, accessory, or weapon?

She frequently appears in public or is photographed wearing pearls.

[isfjmel-phleg]

Eye and Pancake for Rietta, Bouquet and Maple Leaf for Rachel, Strawberry and Speak-No-Evil for Delclis, Milky Way and Mousetrap for Elystan, and then - if you have answers for some of the perhaps more minor characters (if not, please skip them!) - Rainbow for Tietra, Crown for Coleinette, Tornado for Bethira, Package for Estelle, and Birthday Cake for cousin Rietta, please?

Rietta

👁️ EYE - what colour are their eyes? do people notice their eyes? is there anything special about them (shows emotion easily, literally magical...)?

Rietta has dark brown eyes, nothing particularly out of the ordinary. They're a feature from her mother's side of the family, something that further visually marks her as half-Otionovian, along with her dark hair, olive complexion, and strong facial features. There are some family members on her father's side that are disappointed in her appearance and have made remarks to her about it.

🥞 PANCAKE - what is their comfort breakfast?

Bread with butter and blackberry jam, fruit, and hot chocolate. Faysmondian breakfasts tend not to be very elaborate.

Rachel

💐 BOUQUET - create a bouqet for them! what do those flowers mean? are any of the flowers their particular favourite?

Pink roses, lavender, foxgloves, lilac, pansies, and a bit of mint. These are all flowers that grow in her grandparents' garden and have pleasant personal assocations.

In the language of flowers, those mean, respectively, grace, mistrust, insincerity, first emotions of love, thoughts/think of me, and virtue. Most of which are fitting.

🍁 MAPLE LEAF - what is their favourite season? why?

Summer! She lives in a mostly cold climate, and it's the one time of the year that the weather isn't too bad to do anything outdoors.

Delclis

🍓 STRAWBERRY - do they eat their fruit & veg? what is their favourite fruit or vegetable?

He's willing to eat just about anything, so fruit and vegetables have never posed any problems. He's partial to apples and carrots in particular.

🙊 SPEAK-NO-EVIL - what is something your oc will refuse to stay quiet about?

He is a scientist with Opinions. Get something incorrect about genetics in botany especially, and you will hear all about it from him. Respect the flora.

Elystan

🌌 MILKY WAY - what was the inspiration behind your oc? what was the first thing you decided about them?

Elystan, along with Rietta, Delclis, and an early form of Rachel, was created when I was fourteen and newly obsessed with Oz and Narnia and wanted to write a story in the same vein (mistake #1). I knew I wanted a princely character (Delclis), but then my ninth grade Kings of Israel class gave me an idea: my young prince about to succeed to the throne would have an entitled brat of a half brother with a claim to the crown (as Solomon did). So Elystan was created to be a Terrible Child and nothing more. He was magically deprived of his voice for a while and got it restored after an attitude adjustment (a much less impactful rip-off of Edmund's/Eustace's arc) and had a generic personality after that.

Not great characterization! Somewhere along the way I decided to justify my description of him as small and fragile-looking by giving him an illness, other literary influences took hold, and from there he gradually morphed into his (hopefully) more complex current form over the years.

🪤 MOUSE TRAP - what will always lure them into certain danger? a loved one in danger? a promise of something they are always searching for?

As we'll see if I ever finish Book 2, he's willing to risk a lot for the sake of his beloved father. He also makes poor choices when trying to save face or is chasing something he wants very badly.

Tietra

🌈 RAINBOW - what advice would they give to their younger self?

She would probably tell her younger self to stand up for herself more, which quite frankly is what her current self needs to be told too.

Coleinette

👑 CROWN - what does your oc want to be remembered as? why?

She probably would want to be remembered as somebody who was reliable, dutiful, and efficient. Someone who did not shame her family and who looked after herself and others well without burdening anyone.

Bethira

🌪️ TORNADO - what is the biggest change you've ever made to them? how have they changed from their original version?

Bethira existed in the original draft too, and she was just a stereotype of a doting mother, very much to blame for how Elystan turned out (but somehow not doing much to protect Delclis from his Obviously Evil stepfather who is trying to kill him?). Over time I've come to examine her more as an individual and develop her more into a tragic figure, not perfect but still sympathetic.

Estelle Doncath (Rachel's little sister)

📦 PACKAGE - what are some "most likely to..." that can apply to them?

Most Likely To Try To Solve Interpersonal Problems

Most Likely To Master Ice Skating

Most Likely (Among Her Siblings) To Instigate Adventure

Rietta "Rieton" Carothier (Rachel's cousin)

🎂 BIRTHDAY CAKE - when is their birthday? do they like celebrating it?

Rieton's birthday is December 14, and yes, she loves celebrating it! She's a lot more outgoing and comfortable with attention than Rachel, and she'll gladly accept the family making a fuss over her.

[isfjmel-phleg]

BEFORE THE BEGINNING for Book 1 and NEXT for any project you might like, please?

I'm going to combine these, since this is the most recent thing I've worked on and everything else is in suspension.

Anyway, thank you for your patience with this. It's been months. I knew basically what I wanted to do, but after some thoughts recently about POV, the angle finally clicked. We know how Rietta feels about Normorot and the Council from "Horrid Old Beautiful Ruin." We know that "At age seven, she had interrupted a meeting to scold Normorot for upsetting her mother. She hadn’t been permitted on visits to the palace since."

But what if that isn't all of the story? There are multiple sides to this, and Normorot's daughter Rietta-Coleinette has a very different perspective on Rietta than we've seen so far.

It's rough, I threw it together this afternoon, but here you go!

“Not going back?”

Coleinette dropped her arms from around her father as hastily as she had flung them there a moment ago.

“You will return for the spring term,” he said, in his businesslike way. “But this will be your last year at the convent.”

“It can’t be. I haven’t learned everything yet. It’s only one more year, Father. You wouldn’t want me to have an incomplete education.”

For nearly six years, Coleinette had attended the convent school in the city of Roinand.with other highborn girls, who had become as close to her as her own sisters. Together they studied the social graces—music, dancing, deportment—and, more importantly, household management, bookkeeping, cooking, a little medicine—everything required of the daughters of Faysmondian nobility to succeed. And succeed Coleinette did. All the Sisters said so, said that Coleinette had shown responsibility, practicality, and good judgment. In one more year, she could make her debut in society, and, armed with her array of marketable skills, arrange a profitable match, and run her own establishment without becoming a burden on her family.

And here her father apparently wanted her to throw every carefully executed plan away. Had he lost his mind?

He didn’t look mad. A touch more gray, perhaps, and the bags under his eyes a little deeper. The droop in his shoulders was not the posture of a man who meant to be cruel. He had a rational cause for this abrupt decision, as inexplicable as it seemed to her.

“You must be tired after your journey,” he said. “Sit down. I know this is a disappointment, but it can’t be helped.”

Coleinette removed her coat and hat and sank into an armchair opposite her father.

“It’s not—we haven’t—have we suffered a reversal of fortune?” she asked, unable to keep a slight tremor out of her voice. If so, it was imperative that she make that profitable match at once, even if she wasn’t quite ready. Perhaps he had already found her one. A bolt of icy fear darted through her. She had wanted to make that selection. She had excellent judgment—for someone not yet sixteen. Her father didn’t always understand what to look for. He might saddle her with something horrid.

“No, nothing like that,” said her father, to her relief. “I know how much you have enjoyed your time at the school, and your mother and I are very proud of your accomplishments. Goodness knows we would much rather allow you to complete your education before your debut. And you will complete it—just in a less conventional method. A sort of hands-on approach.”

“Is Nélie not helping Mother enough? The ungrateful little—”

“Rietta-Coleinette,” said her father sternly. “This has nothing to do with your sister. Your mother and I will remove you from the school in May so that you can become dame d’honneur to Her Majesty when she makes her debut.”

That was so much worse than anything Coleinette could have imagined. It took all she had to keep her voice steady.

“I’m hardly qualified for that position. Shouldn’t it go to a member of her family?”

The dame d’honneur was the Queen’s chief lady-in-waiting, not merely an attendant but a sort of private secretary, confidante, manager of affairs, and general right-hand woman to the monarch. She occupied a position of particular trust and therefore typically came from among the Queen’s nearest and dearest—usually a relation or childhood friend.

Coleinette was neither to Her Majesty Rietta I.

“Which member of her family would you suggest?” asked her father. “She has no sisters, no female cousins here in Faysmond—no legitimate ones, at any rate. Her aunt and great aunts have too many interests of their own to be safe candidates. It falls to our ranks to find a suitable possibility. The Duke of Decousineau is already pushing for his daughter Florianne to take the role.”

“That idiot? Lord, no,” said Coleinette before she could stop herself.

Not that she cared whether Her Majesty was stuck with the most feather-brained girl in Faysmond at her elbow or not. The Queen and Florianne probably deserved each other. But Florianne’s father, who was on the Regency Council that Coleinette’s father headed, did not need any more power than he already had.

Her father’s nod told her he was thinking the same thing. “That’s why it was to be you,” he said. “You are the only safe option. And you have the skills necessary to manage her—her affairs well. I wouldn’t trust this task to anyone else.”

He meant that. Coleinette saw it in his eyes, warm and crinkled. She couldn’t let those eyes down. She wouldn’t, if she were the only factor to consider.

“I would be honored to do it, Father,” she said. “But Her Majesty will not have me for her dame d’honneur. I know she won’t. She hates all of us.”

“How do you know that? You’ve hardly spoken to her.”

“I don’t need to speak to her to know. Isn’t it obvious? She and—and That Woman make your life a living—” A lady couldn’t say the word Coleinette wanted to. She settled for “—nightmare. She threw a brass blotter at your head in a Council meeting, Father. One doesn’t get more hostile than that. She could have killed you.”

“That was a very long time ago. She was a child, and I have no doubt that behavior was due to That Woman’s influence. But don’t you see, Coleinette? This is our chance to counteract that.”

“That Woman won’t let us, though. She’s not going to change just because Her Majesty turns sixteen.”

Coleinette’s father set his jaw. “She won’t have any choice.”

“That Woman” was not her real name, of course. Properly, she was Her Majesty the Queen Regent, but no one called her that behind her back. “That Woman” was among the more charitable variations; many people preferred a term Coleinette wasn’t supposed to know. This animosity was not without good reason. Ever since arriving from her native Otionovia, the Queen’s mother had dedicated herself to the suffering of the Regency Council. She questioned their every decision. She controlled every detail of Rietta’s upbringing. She dredged up excuses to reject every nurse, governess, or tutor the Council appointed and instead hid the Queen away in a crumbling, unhygienic old castle in the country and permitted her to run wild.

Rietta, consequently, was a terror. She refused to learn anything. She locked herself in her room on the few occasions Coleinette came to visit. She quarreled with Coleinette’s father and staged embarrassing public tantrums whenever he required her to make sacrifices or do anything she didn’t want to do. The Council had had to ban her, at age seven, from their meetings after the blotter-throwing incident.

And That Woman did absolutely nothing about this behavior.

Coleinette knew why.

“She wants Rietta to hate us. She wants her to be an embarrassment to Faysmond. So she’ll remain in control, we get weaker and weaker, and Otionovia can step in and take what they want. They only agreed to that treaty because they knew they could bring in their spy and take us down the slow way.”

None of the Regency Council had ever said as much before Coleinette, of course. But it had been easy to piece it all together.

Her father frowned. “And what is your point?”

“That Woman is going to do anything she can to keep me from taking this position, so I don’t see what use there is in bothering.”

“And you have so little confidence in me that you don’t think I can make this happen? She can’t bully the whole Council.”

“No, sir,” said Coleinette. “I’m just being realistic.”

“And realism conveniently aligns with what you want, does it?”

Well, of course it did. Coleinette had good judgment.

Her father remained unconvinced. “We must all shoulder our responsibilities. Mine is to look after Her Majesty’s well-being until she comes of age. Yours is much the same thing—to serve Faysmond well. In this case, that means you need to be the good influence your Queen needs. Her mother might object at first, but whom else can she possibly appoint instead? She hasn’t a single ally here. You will be Rietta’s dame d’honneur.”

“I know, Father. But she’s horrid.”

“She has been badly brought up. But that is not her fault. In fact, she deserves our pity. She has no sensible mother, no brothers and sisters to keep her company, no father who loves her” He rose to sit on the arm of Coleinette’s chair and kissed the top of her head. “Not like you do. She needs a good family, who cares enough about her to teach her what’s right. I think we can give that to her. You can be the wise elder sister she’s never had.”

“All the same,” said Coleinette. “You can appoint me, but you can’t make them accept me. I can’t be an influence then.”

“The problem there is That Woman. Rietta would likely be far more obedient if she were not being actively encouraged to antagonize the Council—the Council her dear late father chose himself. But never worry, sweetheart. We are considering how best to eliminate the problem. If all goes well, by May you should have nothing in your way.”

“Yes, Father. Thank you.”

“And next year you’ll have the grandest debut we can manage, to make up for all this. Who knows? By then, you may wish to invite your dear friend Her Majesty.”

Coleinette rather doubted it.

But she gave him the response he wanted and retreated upstairs to give her mother the first embrace of the Christmas holidays.