Flip Side 3: The sequel nobody asked for.
So the problem I had with this one was that I didn’t have a main problem. I had written Flip Side 1 and 2, and then I didn’t have a main problem to focus this book around, just a bunch of little problems, but nothing climax-worthy. You may notice Flip Side 1 and 2 came out in 2014 and 2015, yet this one came out in 2023. It was perhaps around 2021 that I finally came up with the big problem. Then I suddenly had too many problems and I had to take some of them out and perhaps use them in a later book. (No promises, okay?) So this one came out of the graveyard and was ready in 2023. It should have been 2022…but my muse and I had a disagreement. It won. Not that I fought it really hard, but there was some guilt that this wasn’t ready a year sooner, if it makes you feel any better.
Chapter 1
Summer, no matter if it was through a magical gate or not, was hot in the relative area of New Mexico, or Valeria, depending on which side of the gate I was on. Thankfully, summer was nearly over and the weather was cooler. As the temperature highs dropped degree by degree, I was beginning my third month of job training. Not that anyone called it that, but it felt like it.
Being Champion of Valeria had to feel like becoming president of a country. Sure, I had some general ideas, but there were thousands of little details that I didn’t realize had any relevance to my job. Being the visible representative of Valeria had been evident. Training guards and pages seemed obvious. Learning protocol to participate in just about any function I didn’t shrug at. Solving disputes was logical, especially among the guards. But deciding whether guards were allowed to have cookies from the kitchens had not entered the realm of possibilities in my mind.
I struggled to maintain my composure. “Let me get this straight. You want me to forbid the guards from eating cookies?”
“And any sweets, Champion Ilion,” said the least-favorite person in the castle, the guards’ nutritionist. “Your men…”
“And women,” I corrected.
“And women,” Jerry Stickberg amended, “must be in top form. I’ve followed their habits, and I don’t like the trend I see. Sweets seem to be a distinct part of their lives, and I don’t want to perpetuate the belief that it is acceptable.”
I suppressed the sigh. “Are any of the guards or pages in unhealthy ranges?”
The man remained stubborn. “Not at the moment, but I’m certain they’re looking forward to diabetes and heart disease.”
“And you think by forbidding their access at work it will decrease their ability to eat those same sweets once off duty?”
“We are merely limiting their access to it at work, Champion Ilion. There are much healthier snacks than what the kitchens are providing to them.”
I weighed in my mind the ramifications if I agreed to replace the cookies with carrot sticks. Sure, the guards would be healthier. And the kitchen staff would be richer from the bribes they got to add a few cookies into the mix. The guards would most likely forgive me. In a few years. But since I valued their respect as well as friendship, I tried to find some middle ground. “I agree, but I don’t think forbidding them sweets and treating them as if they aren’t responsible enough to watch their food intake and handle the consequences is the right way to go.”
Jerry was displeased with my response and put his hands on his hips. “Then what do you propose, Champion Ilion?”
“That you give me some time to think about it. Let me talk to the kitchen staff and get their ideas. Let me talk to Martin and the guards and get their input to figure out a plan.”
“I have laid out a plan of action that will help.”
“And I will consider that as well. But if you’re looking to better the health and fitness of the guards, then I think there may be a different way of encouragement that will have lifestyle changes instead of finding ways around rules they don’t like.”
Jerry seemed appeased, and his stance relaxed. “I appreciate finding someone who is also looking out for the health of their people.”
I could only imagine the response he’d gotten so far. “I’ll look through your plan again and consult you when I’ve made a decision. Thank you for your time, Physician Stickberg.”
He bowed. “I appreciate your time as well, Champion Ilion.”
Free of Stickberg, I made my way to the kitchens. There, Norma was busy checking over the fresh batch of cookies I knew would be in high favor from just about anyone in the castle. Norma sent me a smile as she dusted her hands on her black apron. “Here. Fresh from the oven. They’re still warm.”
I felt absolutely no guilt at taking it, savoring the first mouthful. “Don’t tell Stickberg.”
She snorted. “He’d probably blame me for giving the entire castle all their health problems. I don’t tell him anything but what he expects to hear.”
“Which he doesn’t believe,” a castle chef sang on her way past with a mixing bowl.
Norma waved her hand at her. “Is he headed this way?”
“I have no idea.” I took another mouthful, savoring that one as well before I swallowed. “But he wants me to stop you all from serving so many sweets.”
“That plan of his? I’ve seen it. It’s foolish to think that we can fix their lives. People will eat healthy if they want, and they’ll eat junk if they want, and forcing us to try and fix their problems is just a waste of time, and just plain stupid if you want my opinion.”
“Well, I do, but not exactly that one. He wants to make some changes. I’m not going to say that I want to abolish the fantastic food that you make with love and that you kindly hand out to all those who might want it out of the goodness of your heart…”
“We’ve got a new advisor wannabe,” the same chef sang, now whipping up something in the metal mixing bowl.
“We call that being teacher’s pet in the Flip Side,” I said.
“Kitchen’s pet,” she said without hesitation, flashing a smile.
“And wholeheartedly,” I agreed.
Norma grinned and gave me another cookie. “So what’s with all the flattery?”
“I don’t want the treats to stop, but I have to find some middle ground. So, before I implement the cookies-to-carrots method, do you have any solutions?”
“Talk to Chef Andre. He has plenty of ideas, but Stickberg wasn’t interested in them. If you’ll play up his pride, he’ll give you options.”
“Where is Chef Andre?”
“He won’t be here until later. He runs the evening kitchen.”
“Thanks.”
Norma handed me another cookie. “Would you like a few wrapped up?”
“Can’t. If I’m going to tell the guards they have to eat in moderation, I have to practice what I preach. I can’t have my little songbird over there singing that I had eight cookies when I tell the rest to cut back.”
The chef only grinned at me and continued working with something that looked suspiciously like whipped cream.
I nabbed the first page I found once I had finished the cookies. “Make the rounds. Tell the guards on duty I want to see them before they go home. Five minutes, in the guardroom.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He sniffed. “Champion Ilion, no offense, but you smell like cookies.”
“There may or may not be a fresh batch in the kitchen.” I smiled as a grin split his face. “Tell your fellow pages they have to share with the rest of the castle.”
“Yes, ma’am.” And he dashed off to deliver the message before the cookies got too cold.
I wandered around outside, checking the activity. Pages were racing here and there, delivering messages, completing class work, or practicing with the squires in the practice field. Guards stood to observe, correcting, offering advice, and giving praise. Spotting me, one waved me over. “Champion Ilion, a moment.”
I obligingly made my way over. “Guardsman Vinci.”
He nodded to a squire. “Now, ask your question again.”
The poor boy looked nervous at addressing me, but obediently repeated the question. “I asked what the most important part of being a guard was, ma’am.”
“What made you ask that?” I inquired.
“We were debating who had the most important job in the castle guard,” a girl jumped in quickly. “Whether it was the elite guard, or the investigative guard, or the standard guard, or the cavalry, or the special branches, ma’am.”
“All groups defined by what they do. But that’s not what I judge my people on. I know you’re busy trying to decide which branch you want to go into, but being part of the Elite Guard doesn’t make you more important than a standard guard.” Though the Elite Guard got more glory, I didn’t see them as more important than the others, and I didn’t want these squires belittling a position or thinking it beneath them. “There’s a characteristic that is more important than any skill you ever learn. Any guesses on what it is?”
“Loyalty,” one answered instantly.
“Good, but not it.”
“Honesty,” another volunteered.
“Still not it.”
They threw out more answers, ranging from patience to tenacity to fairness. And after they’d run out, I turned to the professor. “The most important characteristic of any guard is?”
“Responsibility,” he answered.
I nodded. “Responsibility for your actions, for your weapons, for your time, for your assignments, for your abilities is the most important part of being a guard. Blaming someone else for your mistakes and your shortcomings makes you a weak link in our chain. I don’t care if you’re a standard guard checking identification or a tracker from the special branches; if you don’t take responsibility for doing your job right, you don’t belong there. I make mistakes and I admit to them and I apologize and I work to fix it. That’s what I expect from you, and that’s what I expect from every one of my guards.” I checked my watch. “Now that the guest lecture is over, I have to find Tatum. Keep working hard.”
“Yes, ma’am,” they chanted.
Tatum was in his office, or what was formerly his office. By the packed boxes and bags, he looked like he was moving. “Are you getting a corner office with a window?” I teased.
Tatum considered me. “I must assume that statement has something to do with your Flip Side culture as I already have a window.”
I swallowed part of the smile, but not all of it. “You look as if you’re moving. Moving to a corner office with a window indicates prestige and importance.”
“What do you say when someone is retiring?”
“We’ll miss you. Are you really retiring?” The way the castle ran on gossip, surely I would have heard something.
“Something I have considered for a while.” His immaculate attire was lacking his jacket that marked him as his position as head scribe. “The requirements of the job are pressing, as I’m sure you understand, and I find that I am not as indispensable as I once believed.” He ran a hand lovingly over a book before placing it inside a box. “Therefore, I have given my resignation to the king and queen. I will announce my successor tonight and retire within the month.”
Trust Tatum to have his retirement planned so he could say farewell with the least amount of fuss. Tatum Jellom was not a man to endure frivolities unless it was absolutely necessary. “What will you do after you retire?”
“I plan on moving to Estam, which is a small town to the north, in your Colorado, I believe. There, I will become head librarian and enjoy the small troubles a library endures.”
“I hadn’t realized you were looking to retire, or that you’d been looking for another job.”
“Not so much looking as finally deciding it was time. The librarian whose position I’m taking is an old friend looking to fully retire, and with things finally settled here, as much as they ever will be, now is the time to say farewell and move on.”
I felt a sincere pang of sorrow. I’d miss Tatum, and Estam didn’t sound as if it were close, or as if Tatum would be dropping back by to check up on us. “Tatum, as much as I hate learning protocol, do you really have to go? You’re Mari’s tutor. And who else is going to give me good advice on dealing with Stickberg?”
“Their majesties have made plans to bring in a highly qualified tutor. I am sure she will do well.”
I gave him a skeptical look. “You mean to tell me you don’t even know her?”
“She has been teaching at a school dedicated to training princes and princesses for the throne.”
“You have a school for that?”
He gave a rare smile at my astonished tone. “Of course. If you require any further lessons on our culture and etiquette, she will be able to provide them.”
I rolled my eyes, then gave a rueful smile. “I guess you’re really going then. Good luck, Tatum. We’re going to miss you.”
He bowed gravely. “Thank you, Champion Ilion. It was my honor to train you and your sister.”
I bowed back. “It was an honor having you as a teacher and welcoming me here. You’ll be difficult to replace.”
“And yet, as in all things, time moves on. Enjoy your time here, Joan. Someday you too will be ready to move on. And please remember that Physician Stickberg is an advisor. His opinions are worth listening to, but are not meant to be absolute. Only the law is meant to be absolute. Everything else is colored by life experiences.”
I mused over retirement turning Tatum into a poet as I made my way towards the guardroom.
“Champion, is it true? Is Tatum really retiring?” came the blurted question.
I paused and glanced to the right at the guard standing outside the king’s study, indicating the king was inside. “Where’d you hear that?” I asked.
“I heard the pages are packing up Tatum’s things, and he’s been visiting with the king and queen. Is it not true?”
“It’s true,” I confirmed. “I just like to follow the gossip chain sometimes.”
“It’s not gossip,” he said, sounding hurt.
His female partner on the other side of the door rolled her eyes. “Of course it is. Discussion is just the male term for it.”
“This partnership isn’t going to work out if you don’t have my back,” he told her.
She snorted. “If defending your male honor is what makes a good partner, I want a new partner.”
I smiled and continued on my way as they quarreled good-naturedly. A thought struck me and I stopped at the corner, then turned. “Do you all have retirement parties here?” I called back to them.
They shrugged. “Depends on what you mean by party. Sometimes they have a feast.”
“And other times?”
“Other times they have a formal gathering and everyone dresses up. Like a ball, without the dancing.”
I squelched the grimace. “Let’s hope he’d just rather eat,” I muttered.
After doing my rounds, working on paperwork, and dealing with a set of disputes, it was time for the guards to go off shift, so I stacked up my paperwork and walked across the hallway to the guardroom. I stepped in, scanning the room, seeing that it looked like most were here, including the Elite Guard. The room was pretty full, since this was the group with the largest number of workers. Some chatted with their groups. Some lounged against the lockers or walls. Seeing me, the room quieted quickly. “Is anyone missing?”
“Three of the guards from the throne room will be delayed a few minutes, Champion Ilion,” someone volunteered.
“I’ll wait a minute or two, but I don’t want to hold you over too long since you’re off-duty.”
“This isn’t about Stickberg’s plan to make us live off of celery, is it, ma’am?” someone asked in a tone that sounded suspiciously like a whine.
“Just a minute,” I said patiently. “I promise I’m not going to make anyone cry tonight.”
The two men and one woman we were waiting on hurried in. “We were delayed, ma’am,” the woman said. “Our apologies for being late.”
“I understand. Thank you for making sure your post was covered and informed of any necessary information.” I closed the door behind them. I tried my best to stay positive and give praise where I saw it. I didn’t want the guards to think I was constantly criticizing them. “Now that we’re all here, I wanted to relay the coming changes. As you know, Physician Stickberg believes that there are habits around the castle that need some adjusting in order to better ensure your long-term health. I’m not going to stop the kitchens from serving the snacks they make for all of us, but I am going to ask that they modify some of them. I’m looking through Stickberg’s suggested plan, and I’m conferencing with those in the kitchen for ideas. If you have ideas about ways to improve nutrition, feel free to pass them on to me. All I’m going to suggest tonight is to keep snacks in moderation and try to balance them out with good foods.”
“Does this apply to everyone, Champion?” one of the cavalry asked.
“From the pages all the way to Martin and me,” I replied. “I can’t change everyone in the castle, but I won’t ask you to make changes that I don’t follow as well.” I nodded to the cavalry. “And by the way, I’m joining you in two weeks. So if anyone needs me from seven to noon, I’ll be with the horses.” Part of my training had been self-induced when I’d declared I was going to spend a week with each part of the guard so I could get to know them, they could get to know me, and so I could understand the nuances of their job. It was also so the guards understood I wasn’t afraid to work, and they seemed to enjoy having me with them once they figured out I wasn’t going to pull a better-than-thou attitude and order them around because I could.
“We’ve got just the horse for you, Champion Ilion,” the leader of the cavalry said with something like a smirk.
“Merrill’s picking out my horse,” I replied.
“You don’t trust them?” Liam asked with a look of fake shock.
“Not since I learned about your bets to see who could come up with the best prank.” And I was determined to prank them all, but I hadn’t figured out how yet. “That’s all I needed. Have a good evening, everyone.”
The room fell to chatter, some of the guards leaving now that they were free. Several came up to talk to me about suggestions or to be reassured I wasn’t eliminating sweets from the kitchens. By the time Martin came to find me, the room had thinned out to only a couple dozen. “I’m about to clock out for the day,” he said. “Have you eaten?”
“Not yet. Care to make it a date?”
“Took the words right out of my mouth.” My fiancé sent me a smile. “Where would you like to eat?”
“I’d like to see how the garden is coming.”
“The garden it is.” He opened the door for me. Once I stepped through, he closed the door and dropped a kiss on my lips. “I missed you today.”
“I tried to catch you at lunch, but Norma said I just missed you.”
“I was called out to deal with a complaint of misconduct by one of the investigative guard. It’ll have to go to court, but there were witnesses, so it should be a short trial.”
“Are we at fault?”
“Not for what they’re complaining of, but the guard made careless mistakes that will earn him a…is it a slap on the cheek?”
“Slap on the wrist,” I replied. “Nothing serious, then.”
“When you don’t log the evidence properly, it gives cause for people to wonder if you’re stealing or hiding the evidence. He’s been called for this before. His commander has promised to deal with it. I think he’s going to be assigned a partner who will be more fastidious about following procedure.”
“That should help.” I linked my fingers with his. “While you’re getting dinner, I need a few more minutes of work. Stickberg’s trying to make me forbid all sweets.”
“He’s spoken to me as well. I refused.”
“That must be why he thinks no one cares about everyone’s health here but him.”
“I’m thinking about mental health. Theirs and mine.”
“Did you get the cookies today?”
“No. I didn’t make it back before they were all gone.”
“Maybe they’ll have leftovers from dinner.”
“How many cookies did you have?” he asked.
“Three. Fresh from the oven,” I said without guilt.
“It’s a good thing I love you, or I might be very upset.”
“Yes, but you love me a lot.” I pressed a kiss to his cheek then went to find Chef Andre and left Martin to collect dinner.
Chef Andre was a slight man, which I always found impressive when he worked with food all day. He was sorting through vegetables in baskets set along a shelf, inspecting the peppers, smelling them before placing them in one pile or another. I gave a quick bow when he looked at me. “Chef Andre, do you have a moment?”
“I am very busy, Champion Ilion,” he said tersely.
“I understand, but I was looking for input on Physician Stickberg’s plan and ways to modify it, and I was told you had several ideas.”
Chef Andre bristled at Stickberg’s name. “Bah! I came up with enough recipes for a cookbook, and all Stickberg has to say is that it has too many calories or too much sugar or too much flavor. Stickberg thinks he can do better. Well, I say let him. When food is wasted because no one wants to eat it, then he’ll understand people don’t want to feel as if they’re eating healthy.” He sulked over to a counter and started chopping carrots, obviously still nursing his wounded pride.
“If you still have those recipes, I’d like to look at them, maybe sample a few. Norma says you come up with the majority of the recipes here at the castle, and I’ve yet to hear a complaint from the royal family, or the guards for that matter.”
Partially mollified, he stopped chopping, scooping the chopped pieces into a bowl with a brown sauce. “I do not just find recipes; I invent new ones. I improve upon them. There are always new combinations, new flavors.”
“And I think that will make it easier to implement Stickberg’s ideas for healthier options without sending the guards on strike. Perhaps your recipes are the middle ground I’m looking for.”
Chef Andre crossed over to a cupboard and pulled out a notebook filled with pages. Some of them were typed, some were written, some had notes on the sides or ingredients scratched out or added in. “Here. Tomorrow, I will make you coconut carrot cupcakes. See what you think.”
I accepted the notebook. “Thank you. I’ll look this over when I have a moment.”
By the time I found Martin, he had our meal in an old-fashioned picnic basket. I grinned when I saw it. He grinned back. “Your sister told me about these.”
“Didn’t you have picnics before now?”
“Of course we did. We just didn’t carry them in baskets like these. Picnic food was always carried in bowls.”
“Bowls? Picnic food is meant to be eaten mostly with your hands. You can’t do that with bowls.”
“We don’t believe that picnic food is meant to be less elegant. Picnics are symbols of an established relationship.”
My lips curved into a smile. “Established relationship, huh?”
He winked. “I don’t think I’m being too forward by suggesting such a thing, even if this picnic doesn’t quite meet our standards.”
“Well, thank you for lowering your standards for me,” I teased, sweeping the basket out of his hands.
The gardens were undergoing their fall transformation, the winter plants freshly planted. Lit by the glow of the castle lights, we found the path where lanterns were hung. Electric options were still somewhat of a novelty, so Martin lit the lamps, illuminating the low hedges and the lilies that had just bloomed the day before. I admired the flowers a minute before unpacking what was inside the basket.
While this was considered a picnic, there was nothing simple about the food. It was as elegant a picnic as I’d ever had, with crystal glasses, something liquid in a bottle to go with the pasta dish, fruit, and the five layered cake slices Martin had somehow procured. The silverware, made of real silver, had a pattern that matched the bowls. I resisted shaking my head because I’d already seen the gold and crystal versions.
“How did it go with Chef Andre?” Martin asked.
“If you want to make it a date tomorrow night, he’s planning on making me a coconut carrot cupcake.”
“I’ll pick you up at the guard’s room at seven-thirty.” He lifted one hand, kissing my palm before placing my bowl there.
I felt my heart flutter. “Is this a part of the picnic?”
“Traditionally. Picnics are often used as proposals, with the families watching. But since I’ve already proposed, I’m doing it because I want to.” He picked up his own bowl.
“Keep this up and I might decide to keep you around,” I teased.
We talked on and off as we ate the pasta, then the fruit. He packed the bowls away as soon as we had finished, conversation turning back to the many complaints we had both dealt with, including Stickberg’s health plan.
I blew out a sigh. “No one told me being Champion meant I had to act as a peacemaker all the time. It’s a good thing I’ve taken all those diplomacy lessons from Tatum, because I’ve had to use them more here than I think I did at the peace conference.”
“Sometimes, it’s a lot of appeasing the right people.” He reached over and snagged one of the grapes. “Tatum mentioned he was going to announce today that he was leaving.”
“He told me. I all but begged him to stay.” I selected a grape of my own. “What’s this about the new tutor coming from a tutor school?”
“Governess. And there are several places where governesses train.”
“So what’s the difference between a tutor and a governess?”
“A tutor is simply a teacher. A governess is more like a tutor and nanny. She’ll be in charge of Mari’s routine from the beginning to the end of the day.”
“I guess that’s my cue to pick a new guard for Mari.” But my heart gave a little twinge. I knew I didn’t have time to guard Mari anymore with my responsibilities as Champion, but she was essentially family, and I didn’t like turning her over to anyone else any more than I would my own sister.
“She isn’t going to replace you, Joan,” Martin said.
“I know that. Quit laughing.”
“I wasn’t laughing.”
“You were a little. I know Mari needs a governess, but…my family has always taken care of ourselves. Letting someone else essentially raise Mari doesn’t feel…right. And yes, I do realize Mari isn’t my family.”
“I’d marry you for Cathy, but I’m not so certain I would for Mari.”
I grinned. “That’s your limit to your love? Your princess?”
“Who I will obey with the same dedication I do their parents. But raising her? I can only have one of you in my life, sweetheart.”
“You’re saying I’m like Mari?”
“Stubborn, brilliant, unstoppable when you have something you want…no, I take it back. You two are nothing alike.”
I laughed. “Okay, I’ll grant that. But the same could be said of Cathy.”
“Your sister won’t do anything to jeopardize her shaman training. And I have you wrapped around my little finger,” he teased.
“You think so, huh?” I plucked the last grape. “How many children do you want to have?”
“As many as you want.”
“Five? Eight? How about an even dozen?”
“Honey, I know you’re interested in having a family, but you wouldn’t be able to stand not working to birth twelve children.”
“We could always adopt.”
“And are you willing to be a stay-at-home mom to raise those twelve children you don’t want to turn over to someone else?”
“Who says I’m staying at home with the kids?”
Martin started laughing. “Honey, you and I were not meant to be stay-at-home parents.”
I chewed the grape as I conceded. “Twelve might be too many. But at least two.”
“I’m perfectly happy with at least two.”
I suddenly grinned.
“What?” he asked.
“I’m picturing the day our little girl starts dating.”
“Not until she’s thirty.”
I chuckled. “She’s going to have you as wrapped around your finger as I do.”
“I thought it was you who was wrapped around my finger.”
I picked up my glass. “Martin, I am no longer happy living in a castle. I want to move to an outpost, or better yet, another country.” Then I sipped and waited to see what he did with that scenario.
His mouth twitched and he tossed one right back. “Honey, I’ve been named as a representative for Valeria, and I will have to live in Frondionian for at least six months of the year.”
I took another sip. “Yeah? Can it be the winter months?”
“I’m sure that could be arranged. And the rest of the time, we’ll live at your military outpost.”
I felt a ridiculous smile plant itself on my face. There was something about the person you loved just getting you. “We’re really done for, aren’t we?”
He smiled back, his blue-green eyes tender. “I love you too.”