A Very Variant Christmas (Excerpt)

Walt Disney couldn't have dreamed up a better location for a Christmas fairy-tale movie. The elegant turrets of the palace were topped with glistening snow as were the distant mountains and pine forests. There was a pinkish tinge to the sky as the sun rose above the horizon. The snow on the ground was virgin. The enormous Christmas wreath hanging on the main gate of the palace was dusted with frost. Beyond the gate, a lofty Christmas tree dominated the grounds, decked with coloured lights.

Snow fell over the city as it slowly came awake. A snowball's throw from the palace, a woman opened her front door and ceremoniously hung a smaller wreath upon it, watched by two small, bright-eyed children. A nun walked briskly past and entered the magnificent cathedral. There was much to be done before the Christmas Eve service that evening.

At the palace gate, a guard in dress uniform was relieved by another. Even though there was no-one there to watch this early in the morning, they went through the traditional ritual salutes thoroughly and with gusto.

The new guard turned to salute a man in a ski suit, moon boots and thick gloves who'd emerged from the palace. He entered the guardroom, stamping his feet. From a small attaché case he produced a vellum scroll tied with a crimson ribbon. 'This is our guest list,' he said. 'Anyone whose name appears on it may be freely admitted. If anyone else arrives, ring through and check with the Princess Gloriana or myself. We could easily have missed someone, or people might bring extra guests - but as you know, we've still got to be careful.'

'Only too well, Sir,' the guard replied, taking the scroll and placing it on his desk. 'Might I enquire how Her Majesty the Queen is this morning?'

'Of course you may. She's very well, under the circumstances. A little tired. She's resting so she'll be ready to greet her guests.'

'And the little one?'

'He's thriving, by all accounts. You can hear him bawling in the kitchens, if not in the dungeons!'

'That's a good thing, if I may say so. The people will be pleased to know their future King has a good, strong pair of lungs!'

'Indeed. Well, I'd better be getting back. There's still a lot to be done.'

Prince Consort Boris Kostellov, the Queen's brother-in-law, put his gloves and scarf back on, and trudged back to the palace. When he was gone, the guard scanned the list. So many people, coming from so many places! Much as he loved and respected the Johannesjaegervitch family, he did wonder at their arrangements. He would have expected Queen Jade to want a quiet Christmas this year. Didn't she have enough to cope with, with her new baby, never mind a guest list as long as your arm?

Prince Boris could have told him the reasons behind it. He remembered the night, just under a year ago, when Queen Jade and her sister, his wife, Gloriana, had won back their ancestral home and restored the monarchy to Galorvia. The seeds for this year's celebrations had been sown back then.

They'd set up the dining room with any plates and cutlery they could find - none of it had matched; some of it had been cracked and chipped. Four of them had partaken of the meal that Christmas night, Jade, her husband, himself and his wife, the Queen's twin sister, Gloriana, or Gloria for short.

'I know everyone said they'd refuse an invitation to eat with us tonight,' Jade had said, 'but it doesn't seem right to have Christmas dinner without them.'

'I know,' Gloria had said. 'It's been a funny old Christmas. I missed putting up a tree; I even missed the shopping, but mostly I missed everyone being together.'

'Well, next year, we shall make up for it,' Jade had declared. 'We'll be well sorted by then, so let's have an open house. Invite everybody, and all their friends.'

'That's a lot of people,' Jade's husband Tod had said.

'They won't all come,' Jade had countered. 'Anyway, this place is huge. I can't even remember how many bedrooms we have. I reckon we can do it.'

'It's a tall order, though, getting every single bedroom decorated in time.'

'We don't have to do it all ourselves,' Jade said. 'We have the vision, and we pay other people to put it together. Our father's fortune can take it, and we create a few jobs to help kick-start the economy.'

'People would probably do it for nothing,' Boris had said.

'I don't doubt it,' Jade had replied, 'but slave labour isn't my thing.'

'I'm excited already!' Gloria had said, clapping her hands gleefully. 'Tomorrow, I'll start making a list of everything we're going to need.'

'We're going to do this,' Jade had said, 'no matter what.'

'We'll have traditional roast goose,' Gloria had said, 'and a Christmas tree in every single room!'

'Let's drink to next Christmas!' Jade had said, and they'd all clinked glasses.

Queen Jade was a woman of her word. When she'd said no matter what, she'd meant it. Even when she'd discovered her heir was to be born within days of Christmas it hadn't fazed her.

'We should cancel the Christmas thing,' Gloria had said. 'You're not going to want the world and his dog tramping around here when you've just given birth, never mind all the work.'

'Most of the work is done,' Jade had pointed out. 'We pulled it together for my coronation; so it's just Christmas decorations and the cooking. Gloria, I want you to have the Christmas you dreamed of, the one you missed out on last year. Besides, I'll want to show off the baby. It's not like I have to travel, and this place is big enough for me to hide away from it all when I need to. All we have to do is make our private suites off limits. I won't hear any arguments. We're going to do this!'

'If you're sure,' Gloria had said, secretly relishing the chance to plan and execute the best Christmas party Galorvia had ever seen. She'd done it, too, with as much input from her sister as she'd been able to give and a lot of help from Tod, Boris and an army of servants.

**

The Christmas Eve Service would be completely different this year. Last year, Christmas had fallen in the midst of the troubles. Only a few brave, furtive souls had gathered at St. Gloriana's then, barely able to raise their voices in song. A few whispered prayers for their troubled land was all they could safely utter.

Their prayers had been answered. After nearly two decades of the oppressive New Republic, the Princesses Johannesjaegervitch and their consorts had walked triumphantly through the gates of their ancestral home amid a cheering crowd. Virtually overnight the forbidding fences and barbed wire had disappeared; the palace became a home again. The stuff of fairy-tales instead of the stuff of nightmares.

There'd been more to come. Princess Jade had been crowned Queen in spring - the season of new life and new beginnings. Within weeks there'd been another announcement: that in December, there would be a new heir to the throne.

The child had arrived two days before Christmas Eve.

Traditionally, royal babies born during the year were presented to the people at the cathedral's Christmas Eve service. In spite of the timing on this occasion, Queen Jade had made it known she had no intention of breaking with tradition. The only people who disapproved of her decision were a number of older nuns, who believed a woman should remain in bed for at least two weeks after giving birth. Other nuns feared the presentation of a newborn baby boy might eclipse the baby whose birth they were supposed to be honouring. For each of them, however, there were three younger nuns who argued that the baby Prince Christopher would be a poignant reminder.

Prince Christopher Basil Ildas Alexander Johannesjaegervitch didn't know nor care about any of this. He screwed up his face and yelled as his nurse passed him to his mother. Jade had woken early and sent for her son. She lay propped up on satin pillows, her golden hair loose around her shoulders.

Her consort Prince Basil, known to his friends as Tod, sat beside her on the enormous bed, looking lovingly down at his wife and child. He had to pinch himself, even now, to be sure he wasn't dreaming. He would never, before they'd met, when he'd been stealing in order to survive, have believed he could end up living a life like this. Now he was married to a queen and was the father of a future king. How had that happened?

He wondered which, if any, of the genetic variant powers he and his wife possessed had been passed on to their son. It was already clear he hadn't inherited the Reynard family 'curse', the tail like that of a fox. Both he and Jade were secretly pleased about that. It was one thing, Tod thought, to be proud of everything nature had given him; quite another to wish it on somebody else. Jade wouldn't have wanted to hurt her husband for the world, but had been unsure how her people would react if their future king had turned out to be so unusual. Christopher was already growing a soft, deep red down on his head, like his father; his eyes were clear blue like his mother's. Only time would reveal the rest.

Jade looked up at her husband and smiled. Tod was relieved to see colour had returned to her cheeks. The birth hadn't been an easy one, and he'd been glad when it was over. It had torn him apart to see her suffer so much and not be able to help.

'Has anyone arrived yet?' she asked.

'No. It's early yet.'

'I can't wait to see what you've all done with this place.'

'It was nothing to do with me, I'm afraid. You've got Gloria, Boris and the staff to thank. I was too busy worrying about you to bother about Christmas decorations! It does look good, though. Very festive. You're going to love it.'

Gloria and Boris had taken charge of the preparations from the beginning. Gloria knew her twin sister wouldn't be much help in any event, and beyond asking her opinion about what she might like, hadn't involved her all that much. The staff had been delighted to help, and Tod had, too, at the start, until events had demanded that he be elsewhere.

There was a Christmas tree in every single room as Gloria had imagined: from the tiny miniature in the smallest bathroom, with small scented soaps hanging from its branches, to the magnificent specimen with its topmost branch almost touching the high ceiling in the ballroom. The latter was bedecked with yards and yards of tinsel, flashing lights and all the old baubles and decorations which had survived the troubles. The only room without a tree was Jade's bedroom. Now she was awake, this task could proceed.

Gloria, Boris and a servant girl trooped in carrying the tree and a box of baubles. As Boris erected the tree, Gloria sat by her sister and inspected her new nephew. 'Look, it's your Aunt Gloria come to see you!' Jade crooned to her son.

'Aunt Gloria? Good God! You're not going to insist he calls me that, are you? It makes me sound like an old hag!'

Jade laughed. 'I guess not. I might let him call you Gloria.'

'Thanks. So how are you?'

'I'm all right, I think!'

'Good. Oh, Jade, he's gorgeous. I've never seen such a young baby before.'

'Your turn next, my girl. Your turn to do your bit for your country.'

'Oh, please! Not yet! Not for a long time! Besides, you were the one with a duty to produce a son and heir. Now you've done it, the pressure's off as far as I'm concerned.'

'Doesn't seeing Christopher make you want one of your very own?'

'I said not yet, not not at all.' Nevertheless, Gloria suppressed a shudder as she remembered being woken by Jade's screams of pain two days earlier. That had been enough to put her off for the foreseeable future. Anyway, she was enjoying life exactly as it was for the time being, thank you. If she had a baby, there'd be no more skiing every other weekend with Boris, no more being able to get up and go to any location in the world which took their fancy whenever they wanted.

'I'd better give Boris a hand,' she said, only too eager to change the subject. 'Bring the box, Sarah.'

The servant girl stood perfectly still behind her, the box still in her hands, staring wide-eyed at the baby, the future King. 'Would you like to hold him for a minute, Sarah?' Jade asked.

'C-c-could I?' Sarah stammered. The last time Sarah had seen the Queen had been several weeks ago. Jade had been in a bad temper because she was so fat. She'd yelled at Sarah for some minor misdemeanour. Sarah had fled to the kitchen in tears. She'd crept around in dread for days, expecting to be asked to leave without a reference at any moment. It hadn't happened, but Sarah had kept well out of sight, just in case. She hadn't wanted to go into the bedroom when the Queen was there, but couldn't refuse to do something Princess Gloria herself had asked of her. To be invited to hold the baby was an honour she'd never have expected, even if Queen Jade had never shouted at her.

'I see no reason why not, Sarah. Give Gloria that box and come and sit beside me.'

Sarah was bursting with pride as she cradled Christopher in her arms. Jade smiled. She'd felt awful for losing her temper so easily with the girl and was pleased to be able to make up for it in such a small way.

Behind them, Gloria and Boris decorated the palace's final Christmas tree.

*****

And so the party is about to begin. What can possibly go wrong? The answer, of course, is, A LOT.  

To find out how Jade and Gloria's Christmas party went, you'll have to buy the book.

A Very Variant Christmas is a quick read (143 pages) for the holiday season. A nice stocking filler.

Get it from Amazon or buy it for the Kindle.