The Pauper Prince - part 11

The Pauper Prince
Chapter 11

  This time Mara had managed to crawl under the covers before falling rapidly asleep. Having no other clothing but her old shirt and vest, fabric wrap, boots, and the borrowed dress and cloak, she had left the dress on and slept in that. Her sword security blanket was ever at her side, but in the morning, when there was again a knock at the door, she did not bolt awake and fling it about wildly.
  It was not Heather this time at the door, but a different girl named Siobhan, who quietly brought breakfast on a silver tray, consisting of candied fruits, bread, butter, cheeses and a hot drink called "tea" that Mara had never heard of. There was cream, as well, which was apparently meant for the tea. This new girl had a more appropriate demeanor for a handmaiden, and left as soon as she had poured the "tea," but just before leaving was persuaded to "give greetings" to Heather on Mara's behalf. Siobhan also had no knowledge of Mara having any other meals that day with the King, Queen, or Prince. It was not that Mara minded being served a private, tasty meal, but knowing anything about what her day would bring might have eased her mind.
  After Siobhan left, Mara picked up the tea cup, examined it, smelled it, gulped the tea, and nearly scalded her tongue with it, until she managed to gulp down all of the cream. The candied fruit also helped ease the pain.

*******************

  An hour or so after finishing breakfast and wondering if anyone would come claim the tray, Mara was extremely bored. She was surrounded by luxurious furnishings and a decent view of the castle grounds, but nothing to do. And not being a fan of idleness, she longed for something to occupy her, or better yet, make use of her. The most excitement she had had so far was to struggle with making the dress and coating fit like the seamstresses had; this effort had mostly failed. What they had done to make it more presentable, she did not know. And when was she supposed to give it back to them?
  No one had ordered Mara to stay in the guest room at all times, and in spite of her concern about getting lost inside the castle, she ventured outside of the room for careful exploring. So far the third floor seemed to consist of hallways and other rooms - perhaps guest rooms like her own. Eventually she found a spiral staircase in a corner, and followed it down. Unfortunately the next level down appeared like the one before: more hallways, more closed doors. At the end of one hallway were two very large doors of thick wood and metal, also closed. From their construction she surmised that they led to the King's and Queen's chamber, or perhaps their throne room, or best of all, a treasure room.
  The last guess she dismissed as a silly notion. As though there were really a room with piles of gold heaped into small hills. She heard someone exiting a room and shutting its door, and considered hiding or even fleeing, but realized that would also be silly. She was a guest there - a personal guest of the Prince - and that had to count for something. Speaking of personal guests, around the corner came Duke Thomas and one of the ladies from the banquet, whose name she had not learned, and who she hoped was his wife. A Duchess, then.
  She froze in place as they approached. He had a glimmer of recognition in his face, and stopped. She remembered in time that he had gotten a squeeze when they were introduced, so she curtsied to them both and murmured a quick "MyLordMyLady."
  "Ah," said the Duke. "Lady Maria, is it?" She bit her bottom lip to keep herself from blurting out a correction.  Why were two syllables so difficult for people to remember?
  "Yes, My Lord," she said, forcing a smile.
  "Lost?" said the Duchess.
  "No...My Lady, just walking about," she said. "Taking in the sights."
  "If you haven't already, you must visit the garden," said the Duchess. "Everything is almost in full bloom."
  Mara refrained from informing the Duchess that gardens did nothing for her. Instead she made a small head-bow. "I will consider it, My Lady," she said. "Thank you."
  "We have business to attend to, or would linger," said the Duke. "Enjoy your 'walking about,' Lady Maria."
  They exchanged head-bows, and the Duke and Duchess moved on. Mara was about to do the same, and just happened to overhear the Duchess before passing out of earshot: "I'd thought the Prince was not the sort to have a courtesan, but perhaps we were both mistaken." It was to the Duchess's advantage that Mara did not know what a courtesan was, nor to what use one was typically put.
  Mara found another spiral staircase in a different corner, and followed it to the ground floor, which she knew had the bathing room and banquet hall. Both were still where she'd left them, and next to the banquet hall was a huge reception hall, with open doors, that she had not explored.  Like in the banquet hall, there were colored-glass windows, tapestries and heavy furniture, but also wall murals, a wall-sized bas relief depicting a chronology of events, and  large, metal chandeliers. She decided that she preferred this room to the banquet hall.
  Behind her, four armed guards quick-marched their way into the room. She stood her ground as they quick-marched their way towards her; she subtly looked for exit routes other than the main doors. They stopped about ten feet from her. One of the guards pointed at her.
  "Are you the Lady Marla?" he asked roughly. Two syllables...!
  "Yes," she said, not quite succeeding in hiding her frustration.
  "You will come with us," he said. "The King and Queen demand your presence."
  She followed them silently through hallways and up yet more stairs, imagining which punishments they doled out for the crime of Unescorted Wandering. No doubt losing both feet was just the start.
  The guards brought her to another set of double doors - not as large as the double doors she'd seen earlier, but ominous enough - and knocked. After a moment a servant opened one door. Mara glimpsed the King inside. As always, he was unsmiling. Proper introductions were made, and suddenly she was inside a room about the size of her guest room, but with sparser furnishings and less light. The servants inside were dismissed. She was alone now with the King and Queen.
  A few seconds after the last servant shut the door behind himself, she straightened up, and then dipped once more into a curtsey. "Your Majesties," she said.
  The King pointed to a solitary chair facing one of the windows. "Sit," he said. She did so immediately.
  "Tell me, child," said the King, "Why is it that we needed to send a contingent of guards to find you and bring you here, after you'd gone missing from your room?"
  "I... " she whispered, unable to meet his gaze, and unable to say more.
  "When a King asks you a question," he said, "You answer it. Quickly."
  "Please forgive me," she said, and forced herself to look up. The sun was behind them both, silhouetting them. "I-I had no intention of causing an alarm. I-I thought it was-- permitted for me to explore the castle. It won't happen again."
  "No, it won't," said the King. "Not without an escort."
  "I understand."
  "Now to business," he said. "When we asked the Prince, he gave a rather... unsatisfactory answer. So we will ask you: what is it about you that makes him think you have the makings of a Princess?"
  Mara took time to consider her answer, and she kept looking down, which did not suit the King.
  "Why do you think you're fit to be a Princess?" he asked. She looked up immediately.
  "I don't," she said quickly. The King raised an eyebrow. "That is-- What I mean to say is that I don't know - exactly -what a Princess does. But I will tell you this: whatever a Princess is supposed to do or be, I swear to you both that I will perform any task, commit to any duties or responsibilities, and do my best at them."
  "You 'swear' to do this?" said the King, incredulous.
  "Please, Your Majesties," she said. "I am not an idle person. I need work, tasks, activities, being of use. I could not bear a life of nothing but being bathed and dressed and being served by others. I want to-- I want to earn my keep here. Tell me what a Princess does, and I will do it."
  She was surprised that the King and Queen had no answer for her at first. They exchanged looks, and the King stroked his chin in thought while regarding her in silence. Again it became difficult for her to meet either one's gaze.
  "A Princess's duty, first and foremost," said the King, "Is to provide suitable heirs to the throne."
  Her reply was one of quiet incomprehension.
  "Children," said the Queen.
  "...Children?" she said, swallowing. "And... nothing more?"
  "It would be inaccurate to say so," said the Queen, "But providing heirs would be your first duty to the kingdom."
  "Which you swore to fulfill," said the King. "Did you not?"
  "...Yes, Your Majesties," she said quietly. "I did so swear."
  "This seems to trouble you," said the Queen.
  "I... It was... unexpected," said Mara. "That is all. I'm just used to being busy with many tasks, and I've been told that only one-"
  The Queen laughed. "Trust me, child," she said. "There is no such thing as 'idleness' when it comes to the raising of children."
  "Oh," said Mara, forcing her own laugh, "I'm-- certain there is not."
  "That is not to say that we have made our decision about you," said the King. "That must be clear to you. Do not presume that we are assuring you of your becoming a Princess."
  "Oh... I would not presume so, no, Your Majesty," she said. "But there is another thing I will swear to you, and I care nothing for its consequences: I swear that, no matter what, I will stand by Kel-- the Prince, as his wife and--- and companion. I will stand by him."
  " 'No matter what,' you say?" said the King.
  "He would do the same for me," she said. "H-he already has. Is doing."
  "It surprises me to think," said the King, "That I agree with you."
  Mara smiled, then suppressed it. "I'm glad," she said. "Your Majesty."
  "In fact, he tells us suspect tales of your worthiness," he said.
  "Sorry?"
  "The Prince is fond of describing you as some sort of... life-saver," said the King. "He insists that you 'saved his life' out there. Is that true?"
  "...Saved his life?" said Mara. "I'm not sure-- Well, yes, he said the same to me, but I don't think of it like that. I... helped him get work. A job, that is. But I hesitate to call it 'saving his life.' "
  "I thought so," said the King. "The Prince can be given to exag-"
  "There was the time he was very sick, though," said Mara. "Perhaps he meant that?"
  "What was that again?" said the Queen, her voice rising. "Did you say he was sick? When? How?"
  "Well, about two-"
  "Did he have dark markings upon him? Buboes? Lesions??" said the Queen, growing more agitated. The King's expressions matched hers, but he did not speak.
  "Oh, no, no, no," said Mara. "Your Majesties. W-we think he had bad food. He fully recovered in but a few days. But for at least a day he was very weak, he was vomiting, he had chills--" She gasped. "Oh, no. You were thinking of the plague. It couldn't have been that. And you've seen for yourself that he's recovered?"
  She looked from one to the other and waited for an answer. Her patience was needed here, for it took a long minute before either spoke again. It was the King first.
  "What exactly did you do during this time?" he asked.
  "I... looked after him, Your Majesty," she said.
  "You may stop calling us that," he said. "For now, that is. How did you 'look after him?' "
  "Well..." she said, shifting in the chair, "He had been up all night, vomiting and with the chills. Neither of us slept. I found a bucket for him to, um, expel into, and brought him some water. He wasn't keeping anything down during the night. In the morning, our boss wanted him to keep working, but I argued him out of it. Ke-- The Prince was too weak and ill. Unfortunately that lost him his wages for the day. I also put cool cloths on his forehead and brought soft foods. And some herbs from an apothecary. Perhaps those helped? And he did get better during the day. I mean that he was able to keep down food and drink, but he was still weak from the ordeal. And then-- eventually he got better altogether. I would have stayed with him all the time on the worst day, but I had to keep working, too."
  "What do you mean?" asked the Queen.
  "We were both working at an inn," she said with a shrug. "We had to take care of the guests and everything else for the business. Kenneth - I-I mean Kelvin, the Prince - he called himself Kenneth then - worked with me, but he happened to be sick that one day, and... I had to help him somehow. I'm... I'm very glad that he recovered. Please forgive me: he had told me about the plague, and who you'd lost, and I'd-- very briefly-- forgotten. Is it too late to offer my condolences?"
  "It never is," said the King. "And... it sounds like the Prince was not exaggerating this time, after all."
  "About...?"
  "Saving his life."
  Mara scoffed. "I-I'm certain it's because he was already healthy and strong," she said. "And he would have done likewise for me. We both shared our food and drink, and chores. We had to. I was just trying to help."
  All were silent again for an uncomfortable minute.
  "I should like to meet this 'boss' of his, and yours," said the Queen.
  "Erick?" said Mara. "Money is far too important to him, but I don't think he had any malice. I think he thought K-- the Prince had been drinking, but he hadn't been. He understood soon enough it was no trick."
  "Nevertheless..." said the Queen, and trailed off. "You may stand now, child."
  "You are free to go," said the King. Mara curtsied and turned to leave. "We may send for you again, so do not make a habit of wandering the halls unescorted."
  "I will not, Your Majesty," she said, reddening.
  "Child," said the Queen. Mara turned her way and waited. "Thank you."
  Mara's eyes widened a little, and she blinked a few times, then curtsied again.
  "You're welcome, Your Majesty." She did not know the reason for the gratitude, but did not care. A Queen had thanked her.

*******************

  An older, portly gentleman was standing in the hallway as Mara approached the guest room. She slowed her pace as she realized that he was standing by the door, and eyed him warily. As she neared, he straightened up.
  "Lady Mara?" he said. What? Somebody had gotten it right?
  "Yes?"
 Suddenly he bowed to her, which struck her as oddly... comforting. He clasped his hands together as he spoke. "I have been charged by His Royal Highness the Prince to grant you a grand tour of this castle, and its grounds," he said, adding a flourish to the r's and a sweeping gesture on "grand."
  "The Prince sent you?" she asked, her face brightening. "Where is he now?"
  "No doubt attending to other business, My Lady," said her would-be guide. He pronounced all of the words with precision, unlike anywhere else here that she'd heard. "Shall we begin now, or is there a more convenient time?"
  "I... No," she said. "That is, this is a good time. I've been hoping to see more of this place."
  "Then see it you shall," he said. "Is there anything you wish to bring with you?"
  She was not inside the guest room, but looked around as if trying to spot objects within. Then she pulled up her dress just enough to confirm that her boots were still there. "I don't think I need anything," she said.
  "Very good, My Lady," he said, and gestured in the direction they were to begin.
  After assuring her that the tour indeed counted as "escorted," Solomon, the guide, first led her around her own floor, describing the original uses of various rooms, including her own, compared to their current uses. Her room had originally been used for storage, which surprised Mara much less than he realized. Apparently she was always going to be sleeping in closets, no matter their size. Other rooms had been servants' quarters, or libraries, and even armories at one point.
  Solomon also described previous occupants after they had been converted to guest rooms: the more salacious their activities, the more he seemed to enjoy telling of them. Mara was just trying to keep up with all of the stories and hoped she wouldn't be quizzed on them as part of her "worthiness" to be a Princess.
  The second floor turned out to be more interesting. Without knowing it (but suspecting it), she had passed by the King's and Queen's royal chambers, and was surprised to learn that they had separate chambers. Mara asked about this, and got a matter-of-fact "Well, of course" as the reply. Her heart quickened when they reached the Prince's chambers - sadly, with closed doors.  She very, very much wanted to knock on the door, but Solomon somehow managed to dissuade her and to move on. At least now she knew which chambers were his.
  It was clear that her tour was not going to include visiting any room considered private, such as the royal chambers, study, library, and so on. Therefore, the first floor, with its large halls, got more time and more stories. Many of them involved which esteemed guests had spent time there, how lavish some parties had been, and salacious tales of old that interested her less than Solomon might have guessed. To these, she smiled and nodded to often. He also brought her past the royal kitchen, but did not linger. As they passed she got as good a look inside as she could. Even from the peek she could tell it was far better-equipped than anything that Erick had. But then, this was a royal kitchen.
  Finally the tour continued outside, on the castle grounds. It was good to see and feel full sunlight again, and a fresh breeze. The grounds seemed a bit smaller, albeit still of impressive size, than she recalled when first passing through, especially compared to the outside. As if sensing her question, Solomon explained that the grounds consisted of an outer and inner wall, for better security. She silently agreed. As they walked and he talked, she learned that the stone, corner towers in both sets of walls served many purposes, from jails to well-appointed guest residences to storage to points of defense, and so on. Of more interest to her were the various structures along the inside wall, giving the appearance of the main road of any town or village. In a sense, they were, for the structures were both businesses and homes. Whatever a town, village or city needed was here: blacksmiths, carpenters, coopers, cobblers, tailors, seamstresses, bakers, butchers, physicians, apothecaries, and on. No inns, though. The tradespeople lived above their businesses, to no surprise. The guards had their own barracks along another part of the grounds. Servants that worked inside the castle also had dwellings along the inner walls.
  Opposite where most of the businesses were situated were the various guest houses for visiting lords, ladies, and well-connected commoners. They were separate from the main castle that stood tall in the center of the grounds. It was the first time she'd gotten a good look at the castle. It was mostly a giant cube, being only slightly taller than it was long or wide, broken up by windows on every story and the occasional shallow balcony. Those struck her as somewhat insecure; enemies could put a ladder right next to one or grapple their way up. Then they could pore right in. But who was she to recommend improvements?
  Overall the castle's size was impressive even if its outer decor was not. This hardly bothered her, given its luxurious interior accommodations. For a moment Mara struggled again with a disbelief of her situation. But surely she would have woken by now, if it was all only a dream?
  It was with great pride that Solomon brought her to the royal gardens, which were actually available to anyone living within the grounds, but more often visited by the royals and their guests. Given that Mara was herself a guest, he had no qualms about bringing her inside. The garden was fenced in, but not such a fence as to block anyone's view - merely to contain its growth.
  Fortunately Mara had not mentioned to the Duchess her indifference to gardens, for she would have been forced to eat her words. The colors, smells, and even sounds within threatened to take her breath away. It seemed that every flower she could recall seeing in her travels, growing in their own patches in the wild, had been collected and brought together and nurtured. She had seen gardens before, but not this garden. The brilliance of the colors almost hurt her eyes. As they walked and he talked, she noticed more than one archway that they passed through had been grown into that shape and meticulously maintained. Flora of every kind were arranged in attractive patterns and the most complimentary colors. Scattered about on the grounds were elegantly carved wooden benches, some of which blended in so well with the scenery, they seemed to have been grown into their shapes.
  She was reluctant to leave, but there was more to the tour, and also, the midday meal was approaching quickly. It was not like her to lose track of time like that; this experience had actually been... quite enjoyable. The rest of the tour was something of a blur; Solomon may have been trying to wrap things up so he, too, could eat. And when it finally ended, and Solomon returned her to the castle and her room, she pondered those areas that had not been part of the tour, besides private chambers: the crown jewels, occupied jails, "the basement," and other areas no doubt too sensitive to the kingdom's security for her insecure eyes to see.

The Pauper Prince - part 10

The Pauper Prince
Chapter 10


  By now Mara was determined to make her own way back to the guest room without a guide. This would be her second trip to and from in one day, and there were torches along the walls to offer a somewhat guided path. Before leaving the banquet hall, she made it a point of wishing the other ladies a good night, each of whom only muttered their replies. Somehow she had missed the Prince's departure from the room, but the King and Queen were still there, keeping up conversation with lingering guests to the bitter end, so she went to them and waited quietly for either one of them to notice her. Eventually the King sensed her nearness, and turned quickly, as if reacting to a threat.
  This startled her more than she had planned it to, but she was learning quickly enough that fear was fear regardless of its source, and needed conquering either way. She took in a sharp breath, then dropped into her final curtsey of the evening. "Your Majesties," she said, struggling to keep her voice from trembling. "I just wanted to-- to thank you for this-- wonderful evening."
  "Oh," said the King. "I didn't realize you were still here."
  Mara smiled nervously. "I-I'll be returning to my room soon," she said. "I just wanted you to know that I really enjoyed the food, and drink, and-- and entertainment. Thank you, Your Majesties."
  "It was for the Prince's benefit, but you are most welcome," said the King disinterestedly, and returned to his talk. It took Mara a few seconds to realize that her conversation with him was ended, and turned to leave the room. The Queen was closer to her than the King, and motioned at Mara to stop.
  "You are most welcome, Lady Mara," she said, nodded, then waved her on.
  The banquet hall had been so brightly lit that the dimness of the hallway leading to it took her by surprise. But she would find her way back yet. She had made it halfway down before being startled by a man whispering her name.
  She reached for a sword that was, once again, not at her side. And Kelvin once again emerged from the shadows. "That's a habit you ought to break around here," he said. "Come; we don't have much time." He motioned for her to follow, and he walked at a brisk pace.
  "For what?" she said, hurrying to keep up with him.
  "I negotiated fifteen minutes of time with you," he said. "Alone. Shall I escort you back to your room?"
  Mara's answer was a girlish giggle - another "habit" she made a note to break.

*******************

  Only 30 seconds of their precious time was lost making it back to the guest room. The two burst inside together and wasted no time burying each other in kisses and an unbreakable embrace. After several minutes of this, it was only the distant sound of other voices in other parts of the castle that prompted Kelvin to tear himself away, but only to slam the door shut before diving back in. Several minutes more before Mara's unerring ability to worry about things prompted her to ease up, but only a little this time.
  "Do you -- know -- how much -- time -- has passed?" she asked in between kisses.
  Kelvin took his time with his reply and conserved his breath to boot. "No."
  This time less than a minute passed before she pulled her lips away just enough to exchange breaths with him. She closed her eyes and rested her forehead against his. "This isn't fair," she whispered. "I want this for all night, but there's no time."
  "Then let's stop wasting it," he whispered, and lunged forward into another embrace. She drew back for a moment, then gave in and lost herself again.
  Halfway through their allotted time, Kelvin parted from her lips and gently kissed just below her ear, and then caressed his lips slowly down her neck. He had learned that first night at Erick's, when they had given in to their mutual infatuation, that her neck was a very "sensitive" area. Tonight his attention to this area resulted in her effectively paralyzed with a mix of, for lack of a better term, relaxed pleasure. By the time he reached the bottom of her neck and start of her shoulder, her arms had dropped to her side, her eyes were closed and her head tilted to give him full rein to her.
  If he did not know better, he would have thought her to be asleep, her face seemed so peaceful. Kelvin "woke" her with a gentle kiss to the lips, and then matched her earlier gesture of resting his forehead against hers.
  "You're right," he whispered. "It isn't fair."
  "Is there any hope for us?" she asked. "Do you think they'll bless the marriage? Your father doesn't like me, I can tell, so my hopes are not high."
  "Why do you say that?" he asked, straightening up. "He doesn't dislike you. He's angry with me for going against his wishes."
  "....I wish I could believe that's the reason," she whispered. "But he's so... dismissive of me. And of you. Nothing you've said seems to move him. Please be plain with me. What do you think he'll decide?"
  Kelvin sighed, closed his eyes, and again rested his head against hers. "Plain, hm?" he said. "He won't make this easy for us." He stood up and met her gaze. "I was only able to arrange our meeting now because he stopped me tonight from announcing our engagement. I agreed, on the condition that he ease up his decree that we not 'associate' with one another. Of course, he also had to trust me not to, ah, deflower you."
  "What does that mean?"
  Kelvin looked at her quizzically. "Well, not to... dishonor you?" he said. "Remove your purity? Or if you must, our purity."
  Mara still appeared to be uncomprehending. Kelvin shrugged. "You know, it doesn't matter," he said. "I respect that we must wait till the wedding night, difficult as it may be."
  "Oh... All right," she said uncertainly. Then she seemed to notice her surroundings for the first time. "Is it me, or is the room brighter than...? Oh..." She looked about to see lighted candles lined up on every flat piece of furniture in the room, save for the bed. The fireplace was also ablaze. It could almost be mistaken for daylight inside the room.
  "Who lit all these candles??" she asked. "And how did I not notice them?"
  "We were both a bit busy," he said, nudging her in the arm. "Perhaps your servant girl lit them. We do this for guests in case they want to stay up longer at night."
  "Heather did this?" she asked. "Oh! I promised to give her a good report to the Queen, and I didn't get the chance tonight."
  "Fret not," he said. "You'll have other chances."
  "I'm not sure I like thinking of her as a 'servant,' but she really was very... um... what's the word? Oh, competent. And attentive. Very polite, too."
  "Yes, by all means, tell the Queen about her," he said. "That's very kind of you, you know, to go out of your way for that."
  "Why is that very kind? She did a good job. And I did promise."
  Kelvin only smiled, tucked his hand under her chin, and leaned in for a gentle brush of their lips. "It just is," he whispered. "I realize that this has been a... challenging day for you, but have you enjoyed it? Did you enjoy the banquet tonight?"
  "The banquet??" she said, and chuckled. "Is every meal like that? I don't think I need any food or drink for another week! And all those entertainers; they were so good, and-- and I can't find the right words to explain how..."
  "Overwhelming?"
  "Yes. I think that's the word I need," she said. "It is overwhelming. I keep expecting to wake up, but I never have dreams like this. Mine are usually... Actually, that doesn't matter. They're just not like this. Certainly not about castles or royalty or even-- uh, love."
  Kelvin smiled dreamily. "Did you talk to anyone?" he asked. "Make any fast friends?"
  "With the women tonight?" she asked, then shook her head. "Not really. A few things were said, and then they spent the rest of the time talking amongst themselves."
  "Now that was rude."
  "Oh, pay that no mind," she said. "I've endured far worse than being ignored by rich people. Wait: were any of those women ones that you had-- Well, rejected?"
  "Oh, no, no, no," he said. "They are wives to some of the lords here. Two duchesses and-"
  "-A Countess," she said. "She told me that. And one of the women kept fanning herself. I thought it was too cool in the room for that. Don't you think?"
  "Oh, you must mean Ruth, Duchess of Gimsley, wife of Duke Wilford."
  "Why do rich people have such long introductions?"
  Kelvin paused, then smiled and chuckled. "Ah-- Well, perhaps so they can hear their own names longer. Anyway, Mother tells me that the Duchess is going through 'the second change,' which I hear that older women do. Apparently it involves heating up. Hence all the fanning."
  "Oh," said Mara flatly. "Something I should be looking forward to, then."
  "If it means your living that long, then I'm for it," said Kelvin. He sighed. "Alas, I think our time together is ending soon. I must honor that with my father. And it makes me sad that you don't believe me, but no, he does not dislike you. He's... a complicated man. It would take a long time and many tales to adequately describe him."
  "I'll just have to trust you, then."
  "Thank you," he said. "Your patience, and faith, makes this endurable. I cannot predict their final decision, but as long as you're as sweet, and as kind and as thoughtful towards them as you are towards me, then there is no blame -- or shame -- on you, should the worst happen. And that's a thought I will not entertain right now." He took up her hand and kissed it gently, then held it and patted it slowly while apparently lost in thought.  He smiled sadly and pulled away from her to leave.
  "May your dreams be like a glimpse of heaven," he said, backing away slowly.
  She started to reply, but hesitated when she could think of nothing equal to it, and ultimately settled for, "And yours."

The Pauper Prince - part 9

The Pauper Prince
Chapter 9


  The Prince had taken the liberty of sending the royal seamstresses a note to explain that they were to measure and clothe the Lady Mara to the best of their ability, and send him the bill. Thus there was no surprise when Heather brought and introduced her to them. Then Heather proceeded to giggle, causing Mara to use a subdued form of "The Look" to quiet her. In practice the full version of "The Look" is what she used to intimidate men on a battlefield.
  The surprise that the seamstresses had, then, was Mara's size. If she were somewhere at 5 feet or under, and well-fed, there were plenty of garments to be had, but clothing a slender giantess was another matter. Still, they were royal seamstresses and thus the best in the land, and rose quickly to the challenge. Her slender frame was used to their advantage; there was more material in a dress for a Rubenesque woman and would hang lower on her. They also searched for items that had been returned to be shortened.
  Mara, for her part, kept her disdain for the whole concept of wearing a dress to herself. Most of the ones she'd seen on rich women made them look like they were trapped inside fabric prisons, constricted and limited to stiff movement. Hardly amenable to vigorous activity, flexibility, or most importantly, defending themselves in combat. But she did not need to be told that her current attire would only cause impediments to her goal of marrying Kelvin. It still struck her as strange that she was suddenly to call him that rather than "Kenneth." Or rather... "Your Highness?" Mara stifled a groan at that. Majesties, Lords and Ladies and Highnessesseses... How did these people keep all of this straight?
  The apparent leader of the seamstresses was named Beatrice, based on the others referring to her as such; Mara also heard "Abigail," "Clarisse," and forgot the rest. Beatrice called Mara over to take measurements. She used a ribbon with notches on it and called out numbers to the others, who wrote them down. Sometimes she grabbed part of Mara unexpectedly and pulled it into an unexpected position. Mara clenched her teeth and tolerated it. At least the woman was measuring and letting go quickly. Still, a man doing the same would have been met with more forceful resistance.
  The women took turns holding up different dresses to Mara, and finally decided on a blue one with magenta trim. All of their decorative belts were too long, so one seamstress was busy trimming it to size and making new holes for the laces. Mara was directed to the dressing screen in the corner and was handed their chosen outfit. The fact that it was meant for a heavier woman made it a loose fit that alleviated, somewhat, Mara's concern about ease of movement. She thought she was done with it, but then the women surrounded her and pulled and folded and tucked in and tied off and all sorts of things to make it fit more tightly. The belt had been altered to size, as well. Mara asked for and received a pouch for the belt. She didn't like having no way to carry anything, whatever it might be.
  The women stepped back and regarded their work with a professional eye. They murmured to each other, using terms that, for Mara, may as well have been a different language. Sometimes they pointed at different areas, sometimes reached in and adjusted, until finally all of the women nodded amongst themselves and looked her in the eye.
  "Is this to your liking, My Lady?" said  Beatrice. Heather came over, all smiles and clasped hands. Mara only shrugged. "Ah! Of course," said  Beatrice, and led her over to a full-length looking glass, something that must have cost somebody a pretty copper.
  It was actually the first time Mara had seen herself in a full reflection, apart from bodies of water and shiny materials. Erick had a small looking glass in his room, so she at least knew her own face, but could not remember ever seeing her full body at one time. And most definitely never wearing a dress. The seamstresses had given her layers, which to Mara's credit, she had worked out herself in which order to put them on. The undergarment, of satin, was a lighter blue than the long-sleeved coating, made of a thicker material that she was not familiar with. The wide belt held it all together.
  Mara couldn't decide if she was looking at herself, or a different woman playing her part from the other side of the looking glass. Practicality demanded the former answer; she dismissed her indecision as foolishness. Of course this was herself; just a "herself" she had never seen before. One of the seamstresses stepped up behind her and draped a green, velvet cloak over her shoulders, then adjusted it for symmetry. Heather was at her side again.
  "If I may, My Lady," she said, "I think this suits you very well."
  "If you say so," said Mara quietly, still watching herself in the looking glass. "I-I wouldn't know. I've never worn anything like this."
  "Pardon?"
  "Hm?" said Mara, then broke from her thoughts. "Uh... uh, never mind. Ladies, this is very nice. Truly. But how is this to be paid for, again?"
  "His Royal Highness the Prince has written to us that he will make payment," said  Beatrice. "But much of this is simply being borrowed until we've made something that fits you properly."
  "He's buying my clothes?"
  Beatrice held up the Prince's instructions. "According to this, yes," she said.
  "Are they expensive?"
  The seamstresses exchanged looks, then burst out into fits of laughter and giggles. Heather joined in to cover her nervous excitement.
  "Why are you laughing?" said Mara, irritated. "Is that a yes or a no?" Beatrice went to her and put a reassuring arm around her and led her back to the looking glass.
  "My Lady, if His Royal Highness is offering to treat one to new clothes, one should not question it," she said. The others smiled and nodded in agreement. Mara did not meet their smiles, but stared at her reflection in silence.

*******************

  Before Mara left the seamstresses, there was a brouhaha about having her boots replaced with "proper" shoes. The seamstresses reacted as though she were leaving the room with an uncovered buttocks, rather than simply the wrong kind of footwear for a Lady. Unfortunately, like the rest of her body, her feet were larger than most women's, and no Ladylike footwear was available. That, too, would need to be custom-made, so Mara just had to hope that no one noticed the boots.  Also, she ultimately needed to demand the return of her original clothing, before they could follow up on their suggestion to use it as fuel for a fire. Luckily for them she had left her sword behind in the guest room. She did agree that a good scrubbing for the clothing was in order, though.
  Back in the guest room, a messenger informed her and Heather that supper was due to be served in the banquet hall, and that she was expected to attend. This led to some panicky practice sessions on curtseying and the proper addressing of royalty and nobility. Heather wondered how it was that a Lady could be so unschooled in court etiquette, but kept her questions to herself. Mara had mentioned something earlier about not being "as much" of a Lady as people thought, so perhaps that was part of it? And then Heather's last "favor" for the day, which for some reason the Lady kept calling her duties, was to lead her to the banquet hall.
  They had made it to the final hallway leading to the room when both women were startled by someone from the shadows calling Mara's name. It did not help that she was already a bundle of nerves, feeling more like she was walking towards a trial than a meal. Out of habit she reached for her sword, which was, again, elsewhere.
  "Mara," said Kelvin again from her right. He stepped into the light long enough to beckon her over. Mara's face lit up. She started to run, and immediately tripped on her dress and all but flew forward, but was caught just in time by Kelvin. Heather rushed over to help her back up and adjust her dress.
  "Thank you," he said to Heather. "That will be all." Heather curtseyed quickly and left.
  "I knew that women's clothing was designed to kill us!" said Mara. Kelvin was taken aback, then laughed and dove right into a kiss. Mara briefly joined in, then pulled away and looked about nervously. "Wait!" she whispered. "We're not supposed to see each other! Won't this make them forbid the marriage?"
  "Shhhh," he said. "Calm yourself, darling. I just wanted to see you before we start supper." He seemed to notice her new clothing for the first time. "And Oh! Look at you!" He stepped back to take in all of her, starting his gaze at her feet and slowly working his way up. Mara became more nervous, the longer he took.
  "Kelvin!" she whispered, snapping her fingers twice, which broke him from his reverie.
  "Mm?" he said. "Oh, yes. Uh.. I need to remind you of a few things before we enter the hall." He led her away from the main hallway and into a dim corridor. "First: did you get my letter? You must have, because clearly you visited the seamstresses."
  "Yes, I did," she said. "But Kelvin: I told you that I can't read."
  "What? Ah! You're right; I'd completely forgotten. But then, how did you...?"
  "Heather read it to me."
  "Who?"
  "The girl with me, who just left. And I swore her to secrecy! She insists that she won't tell anyone."
  Kelvin frowned at this and sighed. "But... did you not just meet her today?"
  Mara shrugged. "She said the letter was from you, so of course I wanted to know what you wrote. What choice did I have?"
  "I understand," he said. "And since it was the only way I could 'speak' to you... She read all of it, then? Including how to address the King and Queen?"
  "As 'Your Majesty,' yes, Heather and I went over all that," said Mara. "Aaaand curtseying." She sighed. "Rich people..."
  "May I see it?"
  Mara eyed him quizzically a moment, then took a step back to execute her first womanly greeting to royalty. The Prince appeared satisfied. "Excellent!" he said. "Did Heather also teach you that?"
  Mara nodded. Then Kelvin bent his right arm and held it out to her. "Now, I'll be escorting you to the different people here tonight," he said. "Place your left hand on my hand. Let your arm rest on mine." Mara looked at him quizzically. "Here's my idea: you rest your arm on mine, and I'll take you from person to person and introduce you." Mara nodded in understanding and placed her hand on his. He intertwined his fingers with hers. "If there's anyone that you need to greet, I'll squeeze your fingers gently. Like so." He demonstrated this, and Mara nodded.
  "What do I say to people?" she asked. "Am I allowed to say anything?"
  "Of course," said Kelvin with a chuckle. "But you don't have to say anything, if you don't want to. Other than addressing them when you curtsey, that is. After that, if you want to be silent and take cues from them, do so. I can say from experience that the favorite subject of most of the ruling class is themselves."
  Mara thought about this for a moment, then understood his joke and chuckled. He smiled and winked, then straightened up and began escorting her from the side corridor, but she stopped and pulled him back into the shadows.
  "Wait!" she whispered. "If we're not supposed to be with each other, should we come in at the same time?"
  Kelvin pondered this a moment, then shook his head. "We just happened to arrive at the same time," he said. "But as a compromise to the King and Queen, will you accept my introducing you as the Lady Mara, but not include that you're my intended?
  It was Mara's turn to ponder her response for a moment. Then she sighed. "Kelvin, I'm... In one day I've learned that I'm promised to a Prince, had a private meal with a King and Queen, been bathed, slept on the most comfortable bed ever made, and... this now is a banquet? Also with a King and Queen and other lords and ladies?" Kelvin nodded. "Then you may call me whatever you wish."
  "I've been contemplating 'Princess Daisy,' but I'll save that for later," said Kelvin. Then he led her back to the light of the main hallway. Already there was a hum of conversation heard from the banquet hall, as well as musicians providing background music.  Mara recognized the room as the same one where she'd eaten earlier, but now the dining table was fully laden with food and drink of almost every kind she'd ever seen, and some she had not. She saw the King and Queen, but not together. In one part of the room he was surrounded by various lords who seemed to hang on his every word; the Queen was in another part, likewise surrounded by ladies.  Three of the lords saw Kelvin as soon as he entered and made a great cry of delight. They came over and clasped hands, clapped shoulders, engaged in manly embraces and otherwise gave a warm welcome. In the process his arm was pulled away from Mara, leaving her not a little bit distressed. The ladies had also noticed his entrance, but responded with demure smiles and head bows to His Royal Highness. They also noticed Mara, but did not smile or bow their heads.
  The lords were guiding Kelvin over to their little gathering, when he remembered his date for the evening and pried himself away, politely, to retrieve her. He held out his arm as they had practiced earlier, and escorted her to his father and friends. She was introduced to Wilford, Duke of Gimsley (squeeze); it took her an extra second to remember their signal, and then dipped down into her second curtsey of the evening, adding "My Lord" as practiced. And introduced to Reginald, Duke of Brookhurst (squeeze), Thomas, Duke of Ballanch (squeeze), and two other lords, all of whom, it turned out, needed a womanly greeting. Kelvin saved the "last but not least" introduction for the King. She paused for half a second and then dipped extra deeply for him, only just remembering in time to call him "Your Majesty" rather than "My Lord," though the latter would not have been incorrect.
  Now that the introductions to the men were complete, she was back to having no idea what to do. Kelvin verbally excused himself to the lords and was about to escort her over to the women, but the Queen intercepted and "relieved" him of the burden of keeping Mara occupied all night. Kelvin hesitated, and then released his arm from Mara's, gave her as subtle an apologetic look as he could, and returned his attention to his companions. Mara followed the Queen nervously over to her three companions. There were other women nearby, but standing near the walls as if at attention and dressed less extravagantly than the others.
  "We leave the men to their own talk," said the Queen to Mara. "Ladies, this is the Lady Mara, guest of the Prince tonight."  No squeeze, so Mara was unclear to whom to greet appropriately.
  The woman closest to the Queen had been fanning herself and regarding Mara with a discerning eye. "And how do you know His Highness, exactly?" she said. She was a woman of a certain age, with features that were not severe, but not kind, either.
  "I... We met while he was traveling," said Mara. "And then we happened to be on the same road one day, and... he invited me here."
  "How very thoughtful of him, to take you in for the night," said another. The ladies joined her in a snicker. The Queen frowned. As always, Mara had the height advantage over all of them, but did not feel it now.
  "Ladies..." said the Queen, giving them a Look. "You are amused by the Prince's generosity?"
  The snickering stopped, and the ladies immediately bowed heads and muttered apologies and "Your Majesty"s. Mara swallowed some bile, then showed a small smile.
  "The Prince is indeed kind and generous," she said. "As is Her Majesty, of course. I'm very grateful that I'm allowed to join you all tonight. Thank you so much, Your Majesty." Mara had finally remembered her curtsey, and executed her best one of the evening to the Queen.
  The women, including the Queen, were silent. The first woman continued fanning herself, but more slowly. Then the Queen spoke. "You are welcome," she said, then as if in afterthought: "Lady Mara."
  A servant announced that the evening's meal was ready, and the aristocrats showed a slight lack of decorum in their haste to take their seats. Mara hung back to observe the seating order, which appeared to be King and Queen a bit off center, with the rest of the gentry seated according to sex and rank, in that order. The Queen and the other ladies took their places. Each guest, of course, had a servant behind them to push in their chairs. Mara did not mind that her place appeared to be at the far end, until she saw the last of the ladies take the final seat on the Queen's side of the table. The lords had filled up their side of the table, as well.
  Mara stood at the end of the table, wondering if she was allowed to sit there rather than in a line like the rest. The guests were too busy chatting amongst themselves to notice her predicament, but an observant servant did, and set some others to the task of finding an extension for the main banquet table. She saw Kelvin lean forward from his side of the table and shrugged slightly at him. By the time he left his place at the table to confer with any servants, two of them were already carrying over the extension. They briefly needed to set it down to explain the situation to the King, and only proceeded when he allowed it.
  "I'm sorry," she said to the two servants. "I didn't mean to be any trouble." They either did not hear or were ignoring her, and busied themselves setting up utensils, goblets, food and drink for her faster than she could have ever done at the Eleanor Elaine. The final touch was a servant pulling out her chair in such a smooth move that did she not realize at first that he was waiting for her. She whispered her thanks and then attempted to scoot it in herself, but the servant beat her to it.
  A woman with hair only slightly darker than Mara's, but with an elaborate hair arrangement involving braids and loops, watched all of this with a neutral expression. "That was quite a production, wasn't it?" she asked while Mara was just finishing being seated. It took Mara a moment to realize that she'd been addressed.
  "Sorry? What was that?"
  "Are you settled in, then, Lady Mary?"
  "A-actually, it's Ma-"
  "We have not been introduced yet," said the woman. "I am the Countess Lucinda, wife of Count-"
  "-Richard," she and Mara said simultaneously.
  "I beg your pardon?" said the Countess.
  "I-- beg your pardon," said Mara. "I interrupted. I shouldn't have. It's just that when the Prince introduced me to the men, I made it a point of memorizing their names."
  The Countess stared at her just long enough to make Mara wonder if she had broken any royal etiquette rules, and how many. "That's impressive," said the Countess. "You must have excellent control of your faculties."
  Mara opened her mouth to reply, but then it occurred to her that she had no idea if she'd been complimented or insulted. She was grateful, though, not to have to work it out, because the Countess' attention was taken by the woman to her left, leaving Mara alone at the end and with her thoughts.
  Suddenly a loud tapping was heard near the center of the table. It was the King, tapping his goblet after it had been filled with wine. He held it and then stood up, prompting all other guests to mimic him. Mara did likewise and held an empty goblet. Then more servants arrived to fill the guests' goblets while the King was speaking.
  "My Lords," he said, "And Ladies." He nodded toward each group as he spoke. "Today my son Prince Kelvin has returned from his recent sabbatical, slightly older, perhaps not all that much wiser-" The men chuckled, and one of the dukes nudged the Prince's arm - "But returned he has. Everyone: raise your goblets in a toast to Prince Kelvin!"
  "TO PRINCE KELVIN!"
  Mara noticed that a few of the servants had paused to watch, and did seem genuinely pleased by the Prince's return. She sipped from her goblet and was pleased by the quality of the wine.
  "Thank you all," said the Prince. "I learned and experienced so much while I was away, but it's good to be home again. And I also want those present to know that the Lady M-"
  The King cut off the Prince with a gesture, leading to a brief exchange between them that was too low for anyone to hear. She dared to lean in just enough to glimpse the scene, and could tell that the Prince was displeased with whatever the King was telling him. Then the King ended the talk abruptly and returned his attention to the guests.
  "Why are you all standing about?" he said. "Sit! Enjoy the meal and the entertainment tonight!"
  The guests immediately resumed their conversations and were all smiles as they were re-seated. Although this meal was even larger than the lunch from earlier that day, if such a thing were possible, Mara couldn't help thinking of it as her last meal. In which case, she was determined to enjoy every bite and every drink tonight, but while still making sure to leave scraps that she herself would have loved to find at the Eleanor Elaine, in case these servants had to feed themselves the same way.


  There was entertainment in the form of musicians on lute, flute, recorder, drums, and other instruments whose names she had forgotten or never heard. The musicians played all night, by themselves and also for singers, dancers, and even two jugglers. Only the drummer played for the last entertainer of the evening, the Fool, who focused most of his attention on the Prince, with rare asides directed at the King and Queen. The Prince seemed to be enjoying the goodnatured gibes sent his way, and laughed more loudly than the other guests. Mara was greatly impressed by the high quality of each entertainment, and applauded each act enthusiastically, even if the other guests made tepid noises.
  Finally the entertainment was done, which marked the end of the evening itself. Now the servants busied themselves clearing the banquet table and helping the guests out of their seats. Other than during some of the acts, the conversations amongst the guests had not ceased, lending some credence to Kelvin's earlier comment about the aristocracy's favorite subject. Imagine if there had been no interruptions.

The Pauper Prince - part 8

The Pauper Prince
Chapter 8


  Heather, an apprentice royal handmaiden, arrived at the bedroom of the Lady Mara, whom she had been told was a personal guest of His Royal Highness Prince Kelvin and was to be attended to. Her first task was to draw a bath for the Lady and see to any other personal needs. It was Heather's first solo assignment, which she was eager to complete to perfection. She allowed herself to wonder about this woman's true rank and station, not to mention how she had become the Prince's "guest," but knew well enough not to speak any of her speculations aloud. To be the Prince's personal guest was high-ranking enough for her.
  Heather reached the bedroom door and held the fresh towels, blankets, oils and perfumes in one hand while knocking. She leaned close to the door but heard nothing, so she knocked more vigorously. Still no answer, so she gingerly pushed on the door, which was unlocked, until it was ajar.  Heather peered inside.
  "Lady Mara?" she said quietly. No answer, except... some deep breathing somewhere inside. Heather pushed the door open all the way. The Lady Mara lay on the center of the large bed, in as deep a sleep as a person could be. Heather quietly set down the bathroom effects and tiptoed forward.
  "Lady Mara?" she whispered. "My Lady?"
  She wondered if the Lady was from another country, given her uncommon clothing: a well-used, long-sleeved blue shirt under a brown vest, an unwomanly belt, what appeared to be a wrap around her waist to make a skirt of sorts, and boots. The Lady was also quite tall - much taller than most in this country - and slender, as though not as well-fed as other high-ranking women. Heather was uncertain what to do. She wanted to leave the Lady be in her rest, but her orders came from the Queen herself, and she did not want her first assignment to end in forfeiture. Heather looked about nervously, then stepped forward quietly, extending a hand, and gently laid it on Lady Mara's arm. Still she did not stir, so Heather began shaking it slightly.
  "Lady Mara?" she said. "Are you well? Lady-"
  Mara woke with a start and a yell, fumbling in half-sleep for her sword, which rested on the side away from Heather. Still partly dreaming, Mara managed to snatch up the scabbard and draw out the sword. Heather screamed and turned to flee the room in terror. That finally woke Mara all the way. Heather's scream got a yelp from her, as well, and Mara looked over in time to see the back of a young, red-haired girl in flight.
  "Wait!" Mara called after her, struggling to climb off the luxuriously soft, but sunken-in bed. "WAIT!" The girl was already past the door before Mara's own feet were back on the floor. She chased after the girl, sword still in hand, calling to her, until the girl finally slowed her running enough to look back, only to yelp again. Mara caught up with her, and, realizing how she must have appeared to the girl - as a maniac chasing her with a blade - she held out her left hand, turned the sword so the blade pointed down, slowly set it against the wall, then stood up slowly and held out both hands. Having to calm someone down like this was uncommon in her experience. To her credit, the girl was clearly trying to calm herself, as well. Heather knew that a proper handmaiden must be unflappable, and she was failing already. Two guards arrived behind the girl who had raised such an alarm.
  "What's this?" said one. "What's happened here?"
  "Heather, is that you?" said the other.
  "What?" said Heather, peering at the guards. "Oh! Hello, Leonard! Yes, all is well."
  "Are you certain? said the first guard.
  "And you are...?" said Leonard to Mara.
  "She is the Lady Mara," said Heather. "The blame for this is mine. Really. Thank you for showing such concern."
  Leonard and his colleague exchanged looks, then nodded, bowed quickly with overlapping "My Lady"s, and moved on. Mara watched them leave, then remembered to retrieve her sword. She and Heather spoke simultaneously.
  "I'm so sorry," they both said. Heather stepped back and bowed her head.
  "My Lady," she said. "I hope you will forgive my foolishness. It was unwarranted."
  "What?" said Mara. "But I'm the one who-- Actually, what is it that you needed from me? Heather, is it?"
  "Yes, m'lady," she said with a curtsey.
  "That!" said Mara, pointing. "How do you do that?"
  "Pardon?"
  "...You know what; never mind," said Mara. "First, we should go back to that room." Heather nodded and followed Mara as they walked back.
  "And are you all right?" said Mara. "Really, I am so sorry for what happened. I can't believe how-- how deeply I was sleeping. I hope you can forgive me. You had to shake my arm to wake me? And did I yell? I think I yelled."
  "Yes, m'lady."
  "I've been a light sleeper all my life," said Mara. "Perhaps it was the bed. It was so comfortable. I don't even remember laying my head down. Heather: did I hurt you in any way? Please tell me that you're uninjured."
  "Only... my pride, m'lady," said Heather with a forced smile. "But of course you're not to blame. It's mine alone. I did not wake you properly."
  Mara regarded her for a time. Heather hid her discomfort and hoped that she was not being judged harshly.
  "There's no convincing you that my waving a sword about like a madwoman is not your fault, is there?" Mara asked. Heather only shrugged and smiled.
  "And that you don't have to keep calling me 'Lady?' "
  Another small shrug. "I... cannot stray from proper manners," said Heather. "My Lady."
  "Hmph," said Mara, putting her hands on her hips. "You came for a reason other than being chased down a hall. Did Kelvin send you? Are we allowed to see one another?"
  "I... do not know, m'lady," said Heather. "I have been sent to draw your bath, attend to your bathing and dressing, and whatever else you require."
  "Oh," said Mara. "That's very kind of you, but I don't have the money for a fancy bath, and I can dress myself. See-- Heather-- I-I'm not quite the 'Lady' that people here think I am. For one, I've always looked after myself. Forgive me if I'm using the wrong term, but are you a servant?"
  "Royal handmaiden," said Heather. "Apprentice. But, My Lady, I am fully qualified to attend to your needs! The Queen herself appointed me to you. She honors me."
  "...How old are you?"
  "Fourteen, m'lady." Heather made another little curtsey. Mara was quiet now, deep in thought. Heather had been trained to take her lead from her mistress, whoever it may be, and waited as patiently as she was able. Then Mara sighed and shrugged.
  "Very well," she said. "But know this: I am unaccustomed to 'handmaidens' and having people do things for me. Especially things like bathing and dressing. Really, people here have... helpers... that dress them? They don't dress themselves?"
  "I'm... certain that some do," said Heather. "It depends on their station, how elaborate their garments are... Um... begging your pardon, m'lady, but shall we attend to your bath now?"
  "Um... Lead on, then, My Lady!" said Mara. Heather gasped and appeared genuinely distressed.
  "Oh!" she said. "No no no, I am not a-"
  "I know, I know," said Mara. "Never mind, a poor joke. But please do lead on."

*******************

  Mara felt the water in the large wooden tub in a first-floor room filled with several other tubs. It was half-full and room temperature, which was warmer than many places where Mara had bathed. She had been lucky - once - to encounter a hot spring during her travels, but had otherwise been confined to cool or even cold waters when she felt dirty enough to wash up. Erick had had a wash basin available for her, Kenneth/Kelvin and himself to use, but there never seemed any time to use it. In fact, she was unable to remember the precise time she had last fully bathed.
  Mara's unspoken question about what to do now was answered by Heather, who brought a screen over to the tub. Mara realized it was to provide privacy for her to remove her clothing and climb in to the tub on her own, and she stepped behind the screen to begin this, but Heather begged for her patience. Heather began retrieving buckets of very hot water from a metal tub being heated by a wood fire. The purpose was to add the hot water to the wooden tub until it had become the ideal temperature for the Lady Mara's bathing pleasure. Mara attempted to help, but there was only one bucket available.
  After several trips back and forth, the wooden tub was adequately filled, and Mara insisted that it was the "perfect" temperature. She went behind the screen, removed her clothing, stepped inside the tub, paused to gasp at how warm the water was, and then sat down and immediately curled up tightly in the water.
  Heather gathered the oil, perfume, towel and scrubber and stepped quietly behind her. Mara was leaning far forward in the tub, her arms wrapped tightly around her legs, the knees pushed up against her chest. She was dipping a hand into the water carefully and rubbing it on herself while still keeping the arm tight to her body.  Heather was uncertain if the Lady was indicating to have her back scrubbed first, or was simply overly modest and trying to maximize her privacy. But then, would not a modest women go to lengths to prevent others from seeing scars, such as the ones on her back, arms, shoulder and sides? Heather began wondering what had caused so many, then invoked her training to keep from counting the Lady's wounds, and set down her equipment to begin her task.
  Mara started at the sound of this and flinched.
  "Wait - no no," she said, turning her head partway back. "I'm going to bathe myself. Don't help me!"
  "Is the Lady certain?" asked Heather. "It's very relaxing when someone else assists."
  "What are you trying to do?"
  "Well, apply some oils and fragrances and- See?" said Heather, taking her bottles to Mara's front and showing them. Mara responded by curling up even tighter, which was somehow possible, and leaning away.
  "No no! Not closer to me! Go away!"
  "I-- beg your pardon, My Lady," said Heather, moving away. "I was told to bathe you, and-- Please forgive me." She put the bottles back on the stand behind the tub and moved from Mara's sight. "Do you wish me to leave the room entirely," she asked from the other side of the screen, "Or shall I remain nearby in case you need me?"
  Mara was lost in thought, ashamed of her words but uncertain how to make amends.
  "My Lady?" said Heather.
  "Just Mara," she said. "Please. Heather?"
  "Yes?"
  "Will you come over again?"
  Mara had scarcely finished the sentence before Heather was at her side again. After a moment, Mara made herself look Heather in the eyes, but was still curled up. Just not as tightly as before. "Please forgive me," said Mara. "You didn't deserve my harsh tone. I know you're just trying to please the Queen. I'm just not used to being served, and-- behaved unkindly. So, please: do whatever you were told to do. If she asks, I'll give you a good report."
  "Oh, that would be lovely, La--! That is, Mara," said Heather.
  "I'm changing that," said Mara. "I will tell the Queen that you're very good. I won't wait."
  Heather was all smiles as she busied herself with Mara's bathing. She added some oil and perfume to the tub and stirred up the water a bit to begin its mixing. Then she scrubbed Mara's back gently, careful not to irritate her scars, in case they were tender or still healing. Mara began to relax and loosen the death grip on her own legs. She dipped a hand in the water and smelled it, then let out a quiet hum of satisfaction.
  "I shouldn't be in here long," Mara said a little sleepily. "The water will grow cold for you."
  "Do you want more hot water?"
  "No, this is..." Mara closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting her legs stretch out for the first time. "So warm. So comfortable. When it's your turn, I'll bring more hot water for you."
  "My turn?"
  "Yes, when you bathe," said Mara. "You'll have a turn, yes?"
  "Oh... No, My La--- I mean, no," said Heather with a light chuckle. "We don't bathe here. Only your kind."
  " 'My' kind?"
  "Well, yes. The high-born," said Heather. "But really? Where you're from, everyone uses the same facilities?"
  "Where I'm from..." said Mara quietly. "Yes. Yes, they do."

********************

  The two women walked in silence to Mara's guest room. She had admitted to Heather that she would need a guide to return, unfamiliar with the layout of the castle as she was. But at the same time, not expecting Heather to remain at her side every moment, waiting for scraps of assistance to be offered. She had to have more important duties to attend to. Friends to visit. Something.
  Heather opened the door for her and waited for Mara to walk inside before following. Mara made a habitual scan of the room to find her belongings, which had not been touched from where she'd left them. In a bit of irony Mara had put on her old clothes after the bath, emphasis on "old," which had in essence negated the intent of the bathing. She herself smelled lightly of flowery fragrance, while the fragrance of her clothing was... something other than flowery. But she had no other clothes, so there was nothing to be done for it.
  "My Lady," said Heather, "This appears to have been left for you."
  Mara turned to see Heather holding a piece of folded parchment. There was a small bit of wax on it to keep it sealed. "Just Mara," she said, taking the parchment. "You don't need to call me 'Lady,' remember?"
  "Not if there's a chance to be overheard," said Heather, indicating the open door. Mara practically glared at the door, then broke the seal on the parchment and opened it. She frowned at its contents: words.
  "My Lady, will there be anything else you need from me?"
  Mara turned the parchment the other way, as if this would help her make sense of it. "I told him I can't--" she whispered to herself, then sighed.
  "Well..." said Heather, curtseying, "I'll take my leave of you, then."
  "Wait," said Mara. "That is, please wait. Heather, do you...?" She glanced at the parchment. "Can you read?"
  "Of course I can!" Heather squealed in unexpected glee, then covered her mouth in embarrassment and calmed herself. "That is, yes, I can, m'lady."
  Mara handed back the parchment. "I can't," she said quietly. "Will you read this to me? Please?"
  "Of course!" said Heather with a big grin. She studied the words for a moment, her expression softening as she read.
  "Out loud?" said Mara.
  "Hm? Oh. Of course, m'lady, but... Are you certain I should be reading this?"
  Mara shrugged. "I can't know what it says unless you read it."
  "Well..." said Heather. "To begin, it is from His Royal Highness the Prince, and-"
  "Oh! Read it! Read it!"
  "Yes, at once, m'lady," said Heather, and cleared her throat. "Hm. His writing is quite neat! Hm. Well... 'My dearest, sweetest Mara..."
  "Ah," said Mara. "Hm."
  "Er, do you wish me to-?"
  "Please! Continue!"
  " 'My dearest, sweetest Mara, But a few hours have passed and I already ache for your presence. I--' " Heather stopped, went quickly to the door, shut it, and then resumed her place with the parchment. "Sorry," she said. " 'I ache for your presence. I am in pain for us both at the edict of the King, but must be patient and trust in God to show him the truth of our love for each other. Know this, my Darling: I will never abandon you nor forsake you. I beg for your patience and understanding during this trying time for us both. Together I know we will make them see that there is no folly in the love of a husband for his wife, and she for him.' " Heather stifled a gasp. " 'It is not only for the low-born or for secret affairs of the high-born, but for everyone.'
  'Servants will attend to all your needs and you will want for nothing.' Do you think he means me?"
  "...I don't know."
  "Sorry," said Heather, and found her place. " '...want for nothing. Today, visit the royal seamstresses for your first of many fine garments. If they have nothing for you now, they will take measurements and create something just for you. No, at no cost to you, ha ha.' Why would he add laughing?"
  "It's something humorous for me, I think," said Mara. "We can speak of it later."
  "Ah," said Heather. " 'And forgive this admonition, but it is important: when addressing the King and Queen, you must call them Your Majesty. In the first sentence will do. Please remember this, and also the curtsey. Everything will help! I long to hold you and lose myself in your emerald eyes and luscious lips, my one and only. Forever yours, Kelvin, Pr.' "
  "Oh!" said Heather, folding up the parchment and fanning herself with it. "Oh, my goodness! Would that I find someone half like that!"
  Mara looked down to smile, then forced it back as she took the parchment from Heather. She unfolded it and touched the words as though they might make themselves known to her that way. It did not matter; all of them were beautiful. "I don't deserve him," she whispered.
  "Oh, I'm certain that you do," said Heather. "And... forgive me if I misunderstood his words, but was he referring to you to being married?" She became quite excited now. "Are you his betrothed??"
  "Well..." said Mara, and then became fully alert. "Hold on! Heather, please tell me that you'll be discreet about this letter! That you'll say nothing of it?"
  "Oh, I swear it! Upon pain of death!" She giggled.
  "You don't need to go that far, but thank you," said Mara, then sighed. "This has been by far the oddest day of my life," said Mara. "And it's not even over, is it? But-- Yes, the Prince proposed to me, and I accepted-"
  Heather squealed with delight and clapped her hands.
  "BUT..." said Mara, "It is not-- fully decided yet. I think. We're supposed to have his parents' - ah, I mean the King's and Queen's- approval. Their blessing. This - really - needs to be quiet. I don't think it's a secret, exactly, but there shouldn't be a fuss made. And I will not be the one to make a fuss of it!"
  "Nor I!" said Heather. "I am wholly without fuss."
  "Good!" said Mara. She folded up the parchment and took it over to her pile of belongings. After some thought, she opened her largest sack and hid the letter inside, closed it up, then returned to Heather.
  "Now, he wrote that he wants me going to a seamstress?" said Mara uncertainly.
  "Yes," said Heather, nodding and giggling. "Would you like me to take you?"
  "Not if you're going to keep giggling," said Mara. "They'll wonder if you're hiding something. And they'd be right. Savvy?"
  "Yes, yes, I 'savvy,' " said Heather. It helped her to relax by tugging at and adjusting her dress. Eventually she regained the proper composure. "May I ask a question, though? How you and the Prince met?"
  "At an inn," said Mara, nodding. "I gave him soup. Listen: before we go to these seamstresses..." She rubbed her hands nervously. "Can you show me how to curtsey?"

The Pauper Prince - part 7

The Pauper Prince
Chapter 7


  Inside the castle, on the first floor and in the grand dining hall, only four people occupied the massive table used for royal feasts, celebrations, or in this case, a private lunch. Mara wanted the opportunity to roam the hall freely and view its craftsmanship - the carvings on the pillars, patterns of the mosaic tiles, colors in the stained glass and embroidery of the tapestries - but she kept this thought to herself. Not when her every movement and word was about to be judged by a king and queen, for the crime of accepting a poor minstrel's marriage proposal.
  Her and the poor minstrel's belongings had been stacked against a wall. She almost sat with her sword still on her belt, except that Kelvin successfully mimed to her that it was a good idea to leave it behind. A swarm of servants bustled in and out of the room, laying out the place settings, bringing platters of food and drink, pulling out chairs for the diners, and... bustling in general. Kelvin heard her give a soft "thank you" to the servant that helped her be seated, making a note to himself to do the same for his next meal.
 The King was seated at the head of the table, with Kelvin to his left and the Queen to his right. Mara was seated beside the Queen, and had no idea what to do after that. She watched the servants bringing more and more food to the table, and wondered if there was to be a banquet after all. Bowls of fruits and vegetables, a platter with a roasted suckling pig and garnish, tureens of soup, wine and ale, bread, cakes, biscuits, and generally more food than Mara had seen at one sitting. This from someone who had worked at a tavern for four months.
  A servant filled the King's goblet with red wine. He swirled the drink a few times and then examined its bouquet. Apparently satisfied, he took a taste, then set it down. Servants than busied themselves filling the others' drinks, in the order of Queen, Prince, and... Prince's guest.
  "Of course there'll be a banquet in honor of your return," the King said to Kelvin. Mara was thinking that this was the banquet. "But not this moment. You need to clean up and regain your strength."
  "Thank you, sire," Kelvin said. "But if I may, perhaps something in honor of our engagement instead?" He indicated Mara, who blushed and suppressed a smile.
  "But that remains to be seen," said the King, unmoved. "Doesn't it?"
  "I understand, sire," said Kelvin. "Of course, though I am invoking the law of the land, I want you both to know that your blessing is of utmost importance to me."
  "If that were the case, you would have decided amongst the women we selected for you," said the King, piling food to his plate. He gestured to a servant to begin cutting the pig. Mara realized that it was good that she had decided to watch the others' actions and behave accordingly. Duly noted: no one else got food until the King did. If Mara made the rules, the hungriest people would eat first.
  Kelvin sighed. "Sire, we won't have the same arguments as before," he said. "I made my decision about them, and invoked my right to choose my own wife. I believe that she will make a better Princess than any of the others could hope to be."
  "Careful," said the King. "Wars have begun over kinder words than that."
  "You're right, Father. Forgive me."
  "And one of them is your cousin."
  "Of course," said Kelvin. "My words were, indeed, too harsh. But my decisions about them are unchanged."
  "Hmph," said the King, taking another swig of wine. "You're as stubborn as I am."
  "On the contrary," said Kelvin. "Like you, I give all my decisions careful consideration and thought."
  "We'll see about that," said the King, and let his gaze drift on Mara. She was still ogling the obscene display of food before her, trying not to openly drool in front of royalty. Fortunately Kelvin was just finishing piling onto his main plate, which he then held out for Mara. He smiled and nodded once. She nodded back and hesitantly took the plate. She then handed him her empty plate, which he used for himself. The King and Queen observed this with bemusement.
  "So," said the King. "Mary: it seems that our son, the Prince, has achieved the impossible. He claims to have found someone among the common folk with a royal pedigree."
  "Sire," said Kelvin.
  "I'm addressing the 'Lady Mary,' son," said the King.
  "I understand, sire, but it's Mare-uh. Not Mar-y."
  "Be that as it may," said the King, his gaze not leaving Mara, "The Prince proposed marriage to you, did he not?"
  "He... Yes, he did," Mara said quietly, uncertain if she was supposed to meet his gaze or not. To play it safe, she did not.
  "Are you speaking to me, or to the table?" said the King. Not safe, then. Mara straightened up immediately, and forced herself to look him in the eye.
  "T-to you, of course," she said. "Kenneth-- I-I mean, Kelvin-- asked for my hand last night, and I accepted."
  "And," he continued, tearing up some of his bread and dipping it in soup, "Did you, at any time, discover his royal heritage prior to this occasion?"
  "I..." she said, glancing at Kelvin, then back, "I'm not sure I understand-"
  "Did you know that he was a Prince when he asked for your hand?"
  "Oh!" said Mara. "Oh. No, I did not. In fact, I-" She looked at each seated at the table in turn, then stayed on Kelvin - "I'm still having trouble believing it now. It's so dreamlike. Perhaps that's not the right word?"
  "Hmph," said the King, his mouth full of marinated bread. He took his time to swallow it. "I suppose this is a dream come true for you. Spending your days wishing at wells and on shooting stars that you'll have a rich, handsome Prince come rescue you from poverty?"
  Kelvin held up a finger. "Actually, Father-"
  "Again, I am addressing your 'Lady Mary,'" said the King. Now the Queen spoke up.
  "Oh, Silas, he said her name is Mare-uh," she said with slight indignation. "You're pretending to not hear again."
  "I'd like to be 'pretending,'" the King grumbled. "Very well; I stand corrected, 'Lady Mare-uh.' You claim that his true identity was unknown to you. I'm very, very good at detecting lies, and do not sense this from you. Meaning, you're telling the truth, or I am no longer very good at detecting lies."
  "I-I wouldn't dream of lying," said Mara. "I truly did not know. I don't understand why it's so important that I didn't, but it's the truth."
  Kelvin shrugged. "It's a long story. I can give the details later." The King rolled his eyes.
  "Tradition dictates that our marriages are carefully chosen amongst our own kind to protect, secure, or even strengthen political, social, economic and military bonds," said the King. "A tradition with a good backbone, in other words, and not one to be ignored lightly. But the law is that the King or Prince may choose his own bride, and the law is, unfortunately, vague on said bride's lineage. It's a point that shall be attended to, but until now, tradition had not been ignored, and so did not need to be attended to."
  "I did not ignore tradition," said Kelvin.
  "Ultimately disregarded, then," said the King. "And thus our sole heir, our only remaining son, somehow convinced us to allow him free rein in a strange town to 'make his own way' and 'find his own bride.' By our mandate, without revealing himself as the Prince. If that were discovered, he had to return home and choose from our selections."
  "Why couldn't he reveal himself?" asked Mara.
  "Imagine if I had ridden into town in the royal coach with a full complement of guards and vassals and attendants, in my finest attire, and asked if any available woman had any desire to marry me?" said Kelvin. He smiled and shrugged. "And so I walked into town as 'Kenneth,' a would-be bard. Mara, not to deceive, nor make a fool of you, nor of anyone else for that matter, but to find the woman who was, dare I say, perfect for me. And I found you."
  The King clapped lightly in mock applause. "That was a lovely tale, son," he said. "In fact, I'd like to hear more. Do tell us why this girl will make such a fine Princess, over all the others already of high birth and upbringing? Tell us of her perfection."
  Kelvin's mouth tightened. Mara could see in his eyes and demeanor a scene played out many times before in her own life: furious with his own father, desperate to defy him, ultimately managing - barely - to keep himself in check, for his own safety. Or was it for hers? When Kelvin spoke again, he used a quiet tone, but she recognized it as a dangerous one.
  "I'm tired, Father," he said. "We-" indicating himself and Mara- "are tired from our long journey here. It's-- home, of course, but it would be more so if both of us were welcome here."
  "I never said she is not welcome here-"
  "No, you did not say it," said Kelvin. The King glared at his son, then tried to exchange a look with the Queen, whose expression did not match his. "Let your quarrel be with me, and only me," said Kelvin. "I did not 'ignore' or 'disregard' tradition; I gave it careful consideration and the deepest of thought, before ultimately invoking my right by law. And so, like yours, my decision is unchanging. But what also does not change is that I - We - want your blessing, Father -- Mother-- because without it, we will forever be at odds, and that would be an unbearable life. It is only us now, remember? God called Flora and Robert home to Him. It is only us."
  Mara heard a soft whimper to her left, and glanced at the Queen, who was making a royal effort to maintain her composure at the memories of her lost children.
  "I missed you both so much while I was away," said Kelvin, his anger gone now, "But it was something I had to do. You know this. I could not tolerate a carefully-orchestrated, strategically advantageous, but ultimately cold and loveless marriage. Blame my youthful lack of wisdom if you wish, but I could not do it. You want her credentials? Here they are: I love her. I would do anything for her. And that makes her a better Princess for me than any of the others."
  Somebody sniffled, and it was not the King. "Oh, Mother," said Kelvin, "I didn't mean to bring you to tears."
  "You have not," said the Queen indignantly, dabbing at her eyes with a cloth. "You know that onions affect me this way." She handed the cloth to Mara, who was also suffering from onion-related tears.
  "So there it is," said the King. "You're willing to risk the safety of the kingdom for True Love. We couldn't be more proud."
  "Please answer me this, Father," said Kelvin. "Are there any kingdoms that would not come to our aid if asked, or for whom we would not pledge our aid? And no matter who I chose, somebody would end up disappointed."
  "Yes, best to disappoint all of them," said the King.
  "Silas - My Lord," said the Queen, "Our son has just returned from a terrible ordeal and is spent. Let him bathe, rest, greet his friends, have a proper homecoming. And the Lady Mara is at least his guest, so she is due all courtesies for that alone."
  "Whose side are you on?"
  "All of ours, of course, My Lord," said the Queen.
  "Well said, Mother," said Kelvin, who pushed back his chair and stood. He bowed to each of them and held out a hand to Mara. "Now: which guest room should I take her to?" Mara did not know if she was allowed to stand up before the King and Queen did.
  "Ohhhh, no," said the King. "Not you. A servant will do that."
  "Why?"
  "You two have been together long enough," said the King, and he laid down his decree: Kelvin and Mara were not to associate with one another until the King and Queen had come to their decision regarding the blessing of their marriage. They were allowed to speak with each other only when in the presence of the King and Queen, such as at meals, and no other time. The King's spoken reason was to prevent Kelvin from "coaching" her into saying or doing whatever they wanted to hear, to influence their decision. Kelvin, of course, argued against this enthusiastically, but ultimately acquiesced, especially since the King claimed that this was an uncontestable decision.
  Servants were summoned to gather their respective things and accompany Kelvin and Mara to their rooms: the Prince, to his royal chambers, and Mara to a well-appointed guest room that was larger than any single house that she had lived or slept in. The servant placed her effects where she instructed, and then assured her that the room was at her disposal alone and was not going to be shared with a dozen other women, as she had inquired. Then the servant made a respectful departure, and left.  Mara was alone in the room now.
  This guest room was on the third floor of the castle.  There were four narrow windows facing the west so as to catch the afternoon and evening sun. Two of the windows could be opened. She was tempted to try, but decided not to touch anything just yet.
  The bed was larger and more elaborate than any she had seen. It seemed large enough for four adults to sleep on and still have elbow room. It was a four-poster bed with soft curtains and a canopy. Bright, soft pillows were arranged decoratively at one end. She leaned over and pressed hesitantly on the mattress, which was remarkably soft and smooth. She pressed a bit more and realized it was a featherbed, covered with fine linen and a wool blanket. Only for herself? That could not be. A swarm of women were sure to arrive at any moment and inform her that her place was in the corner, on the straw bedding. But there was no straw in the corner. There was a dressing table with a looking glass in the corner. And nightstands on either side of the bed, each with several candles and matches. A large chest at the foot of the bed. A fireplace opposite the bed. Paintings of tranquil scenery on the walls. And portraits of former occupants? She made a note to tell Kelvin that a portrait of her would not be necessary.
  Finally she went to one of the windows, undid the latch and pushed it open. A cool breeze blew in immediately. She closed her eyes and breathed in slowly and deeply. It would help clear the dull smell of stone, both dry and damp.  She peered outside and glimpsed castle workers plying their trades, delivering goods, conducting business, or perhaps simply trading the latest gossip.
  Mara left the window open and returned to the bed. Staring at it, she finally realized just how tired she was, though it was only midday. Odd that she could labor a full day at the Eleanor Elaine and feel less tired than she did now. Perhaps there was something to be said about taxing the mind versus taxing the body.
  She went to her belongings and pulled her sword and scabbard from the pile, drew it out halfway, then clacked it back in. When in an unfamiliar place, nothing helped her sleep better than that "security blanket." Or, as she learned soon enough, what also helped her sleep was an unbelievably comfortable bed.

The Pauper Prince - part 6

The Pauper Prince
Chapter 6

  "Believe me that we would have preferred giving an earlier warning," said Kenneth to Erick the next morning, "But given the circumstances of our respective situations... er..."
  "Yes, well," said Erick, wiping the counter apathetically, "I suppose the best man won, hm?"
  "I... wouldn't call it a competition," said Kenneth, glancing back at Mara, "But thank you." Both he and Mara had packed all of their belongings in their respective sacks, bags, and packs. Her sword was strapped to her side again, where it belonged. All of her belongings fit into three sacks, which she wore in a manner that distributed their weight evenly. Kenneth's lute was strapped again to his back, his cap's brim pulled low.
  "Good luck and life to you both, then," Erick said flatly. He looked at Mara, who flashed him a half smile at best. She nodded to him and turned to leave the inn for the final time. Kenneth did, too, but was called back discreetly by Erick.  Erick leaned in closer and kept his voice low.
  "You treat that girl well," he said. "Hear? She deserves better than a homeless minstrel, but who am I to say?"
  Kenneth was in too high of spirits to get involved in a last-minute pissing contest. "Erick, my good man," he said with a smile, "I swear to you by all I hold dear, that she will be treated like nothing less than a princess."

*******************

  Mara indulged Kenneth's insistence that he visit a barber before leaving town. He hadn't been near a razor since arriving clean-shaven in Allcourt, and had grown a respectable beard by now. The barbershop visit would have been less painful for her if Kenneth hadn't needed to borrow money from her. The night before, when she had to tell Erick that she would not marry him, she worried that he might take back his gift of silver coins, but he did not. At least he was true to his word about that.
  She liked the work that the barber had done, and realized that she was more fond of a clean-shaven face.  She did not indulge Kenneth's suggestion that they find a bathhouse, though, since all of its amenities would be paid from her purse. Neither had bathed in at least a week, so at least their odors shared the same pungency. He seemed more concerned about it than she, but did not say why. He had promised to repay her for the barber visit, though, and she would hold him to it when they arrived at his hometown. He had divulged that it was five miles along the northwestern road. Mara thought about it, but could not remember if she had traveled that way before.
  Before they left Allcourt for the last time, Kenneth pulled out a brown cloak, then switched his cap for the cloak in a quick, smooth movement. He kept the hood up. Mara didn't think the sun shone especially brightly this morning, but she set down one of her bags, rummaged through it, and pulled out a cloak of her own. It almost matched his in color, which seemed to please him.  Then they headed for the road out of town. Mara gave the Eleanor Elaine a final look back, before looking ahead, occasionally glancing at Kenneth as they walked.
  Buildings and people eventually thinned out until they were walking past open fields, some being farmed, some supporting livestock. Any farmers or shepherds were in the distance, tending to their business. The merchant carts that had left before them were slowly dwindling into specks on the horizon. It was quiet, save for their footsteps on the soft road. He wanted very, very much to take her hand and hold it for the whole journey, but she would never stop worrying if anyone outside could see them. He could respect that, though, for some circles considered public affection as "unseemly."
  "Would you like me to play something for us?" asked Kenneth, already reaching for the lute on his back. Mara shrugged.
  "I have no objection to it," she said. "Just don't put my name into any of the songs."
  "I remember that," he said. "But what if a song were written especially for you?"
  "I don't want to hear any songs like that," she said. "But it would be nice to hear something cheerful."
  "'Cheer' is all that's in my heart right now," he said with a smile and a wink. He strummed the lute a few times and plucked the strings, and satisfied that it was adequately in tune, played his happiest song. Mara listened politely, even when he stumbled on some of the notes and words. He wasn't used to playing while walking at a steady pace, and was a month out of practice, to boot. Near the end of the song, he played faster and louder, as was intended for its ending, then suddenly hit a chord of sour notes.
  "Augh!" he groaned, and stopped walking. Mara looked back, then saw the source of his distress. That last chord had caused some of the strings to break.  He pulled at the broken strings sadly, then returned the lute to   its harness on his back.
  "And that concludes this morning's performance," he said. She giggled, then cut herself off, mortified by the immature sound she had uttered.
  "I giggled like a girl, didn't I?" she said. "Tell me I didn't just giggle like a little girl."
  "I didn't hear a sound," he said.
  "Good, deaf as a post," she said with a smile. "Kenneth, I have a confession: I liked that song. It's a merry tune, and I admit that I'm also in a merry mood."
  "Or a 'marrying' mood?" he said, bumping her arm with his elbow. It took her a moment, but then she understood and replied appropriately: with a groan. They walked quietly in silence for a minute. It turns out that Mara was gathering some courage to ask her next question.
  "Kenneth," she said, "Will you tell me about your parents? What will they think of me?"
  "You're going to meet them soon enough," he said. "Would you like to be surprised?"
  "Ah... I suppose I don't need too many details," she said. "But I do have one big question about them, and I don't want a surprise for it: Will they accept me?"
  "That is a good question," he said, and paused to consider his words. "I only wish I knew the true answer. I will say this about my father, though: he is not a man given to rash decisions or expressions of, uh, emotions. I don't think he's made a single important decision without having given the deepest of consideration and thought to it. For good or ill, then, when he's made his decision, it is final. There are no debates or arguments to turn him from it."
  "I tell you that," he continued, "Because I have my own confession: whom I would marry is one of the decisions my parents expected to make for me," he said. "But I believe that it's too important a decision for it not to be mine, as well. And so, I will attempt a prediction: he will be... frustrated with me, for the mere fact that I found my own bride-to-be without his input. But not from disappointment in you."
  She scoffed. "Yes, because I'm such a catch," she said. "You make it sound like you left home just to find someone to marry."
  "I did," he said, and glanced her way and smiled. The best reply she could muster at first was another scoff and a skeptical look.
  "And then almost starved," she said. "And ended up working for scraps and a hard, cold bed."
  "It was worth it," he said. "I found you."
  "Kenneth-"
  "I mean it," he said. "When I was out there like a damned fool, thinking I could sing my way into the heart of a passing stranger, and as you wisely pointed out, almost starving instead, I had realized that I was about to die in Allcourt, and knew I had to return home. So I used all of my money to buy one last night in a real bed."
  "Oh," she said, turning red. "That night."
  "Yes," he said. "That one. The night that I fell in love."
  Mara chuckled in embarrassment, then struggled to compose herself. "All that over a bowl of soup?"
  "Quickest way to a man's heart," he said.
  "Oh, of course," she said. "I... I hope it doesn't hurt you to learn that I did not, um, 'fall in love' that same night?"
  "No."
  "Oh," she said. "That's good. I mean, not that... there was never such a time. Except that I-- can't think of a true moment like you can, when that happened. I just, um... do."
  Kenneth considered her words in silence, then nodded and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. She did not pull away, but looked about to see if any strangers were nearby to see the public affection. Satisfied, she reached up to take his hand from her shoulder, then intertwined her fingers with his.
  They walked like this for a distance, saying nothing, their arms joined at the hand and swinging in tandem. Then Kenneth broke the silence.
  "Do you mind if I make another confession?" he asked. "It's one that I hope you won't mind."
  "Are we both in church today?" she said. "So many 'confessions.'"
  Kenneth chuckled, and then took a slow, deep breath. "You see, um... My name is not 'Kenneth,'" he said, and looked to her for a reaction. He got a quizzical look. "Not exactly. My full name is Kelvin Edmund Nathaniel. I took the K, E, and N - the first letters of my names - and made 'KEN,' then lengthened it to 'Kenneth.'"
  She was silent at first, but Kenneth(?) could tell by her expression that she was pondering his words.
  "Is that -  a reading trick of some kind?" she said. "You know that I can't read?"
  "I know," he said. "But calling myself Kenneth was not meant to be a trick against you. It's only that I had to use a different name than my own, Kelvin."
  "I think I prefer 'Kenneth,'" she said. "'Kelvin'? Really?"
  "Hey," he said in mock disdain. "Kelvin is a perfectly fine name."
  "Forgive me; I meant no disrespect," she said. "So, 'Kenneth' is your nickname?"
  "Not exactly."
  "Then I don't understand what you're telling me," she said. "Do you want me to call you 'Kelvin' now? What are you called at home?"
  "An excellent question," he said. "People call me different things, depending on who they are. My parents, of course, call me 'Kelvin' or 'son.' Others call me... mmm... 'Your Highness.'"
  "Your Highness."
  "Yes," he said. "Or 'Your Royal Highness,' which is more accurate. Informally, 'My Lord.' Or 'Prince Kelvin.'"
  "Oh.  I see," she said, nodding, then said no more.
  "...Mara."
  "Hm?"
  "I am Crown Prince Kelvin, Duke of Moorcliff, heir to the throne of Gildern," he said, and waited again for her response. Again, she was silent.
  "Mara?"
  "Hm?"
  "Have you heard what I've said, or are you just ignoring it?"
  "I've heard you," she said. "But I'm not ignoring you. I'm just trying to work out why you're telling me this."
  "Because it's the truth?"
  "No, that's not it," she said.
  "But it-!"
  "Ohhhhh," she said, "Now I understand. Yes. I have my own confession: my name is not 'Mara.' It's 'Daisy.' That is, Princess Daisy. Duchess of... Pomegranate, and Countess of... Countinghouse."
  He sighed. "My father is King Silas and my mother is Queen Lily," he said.
  "My father is... an emperor," she said. "He has three kingdoms."
  "I live in the castle that we're walking to right now," he said.
  "We have so many castles, I've never slept in the same one twice," she said, and smiled. Kenneth did not reply, nor return her smile. "Your turn now," she said. "Or do you yield the game to me?"
  "Mara, I'm telling the truth," he said. "It's no game. I am Kelvin Edmund Nathaniel, Crown Prince and heir to the throne of -"
  "Please," she said. "How can this not be a travel game? It would've saved us both time if you'd announced it first, though. And I still won, because you repeated yourself!"
  "This is not a game," he said, not hiding his exasperation. "You have no idea how much I wanted to tell you, but I could not. I was forbidden from it."
  "If this is not a game," she said, "And it cannot be the truth, either, then you're starting to worry me. Why are you telling me this? If it's to make me feel better about marrying you and not Erick, there's no need."
  "I'm very grateful that you're marrying me and not him," said Kenneth(?), "But it is the truth. I only wish I could prove it to you here and now, but I haven't the means. But I'll have it the moment we're at the castle. Will you trust my word until then? It's much to ask of you, but I swear that I never lied to you in all this time; it's merely that one truth about me that I had to conceal."
  Mara considered his plea, but ultimately shook her head. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'll need your proof. If that marks me as faithless, then I beg forgiveness but cannot change it. You know me to be a practical woman who doesn't indulge in flights of fancy... or fantasy, for that matter. I'm trying to work out, but cannot, how or why a Prince would pretend to be a peasant and... well, live as you did. And then ask me, a girl as far from being a Princess as the imagination can go, to marry him. Kenneth, I've not changed my mind; I will stay with you, but please: end this tale now. I could not bear to start imagining a life of indulgence and luxury, when our reality will be hard work, frugality and sacrifice. You know that I'm not one for idleness."
  Kenneth sighed in mild frustration. Still, her words lingered with him. Her practicality was one of the attributes he admired, but which now worked against him. He could not fault her for demanding proof, then. It was a relief to him that the castle had been gradually looming larger and closer at a steady pace. Mara was starting to become aware of its true size. It was a large, walled structure of stone a half-mile wide and eighty feet high, with an iron double-door at its center and a raised portcullis partly visible above the doors.  From the outside the walls were broken up by guard stations, and large stone and iron towers, peppered with archer loops, at each corner. She could tell at a glance that any enemies laying siege would need to be well-armed, well-organized, well-supplied and patient.
  She whistled, then pointed towards it. "I'm willing to believe that you make a home there," she said. "That's large enough to be its own village."
  "It is," he said. "I hope that you'll be content there."
  "There must be many different tradesmen and artisans, yes? What does your family do, then?" she asked. "I mean really do?"
  "I'm afraid that I can say no more until you have your proof."
  "Really?" she said. "You're going to hold to it?" She sighed. "Kenneth, you know that I expect no riches, or even power, from you, so there's no need to invent them. I would--" She halted, and then took a deep breath to steel her courage, "I will still-- love you. No matter your station."
  Kenneth knew that saying that word took as much of her courage as had saying the word "Yes" only the night before. He smiled to himself, then caught her hand as it swung back and forth, brought it to his lips, kissed it gently, then let go, without breaking the rhythm of his stride. Then, for the first time since their journey began, he pulled back the hood of his cloak so that his face was unhidden.  The castle was here.
  A detachment of guards kept watch at the main gate, and Mara caught glimpses of the unknown number of sentries patrolling the walls. For the first time she felt anxious about their approach, and fought the urge to put her hand on the pommel of her sword. But she did not know how well-trained these men were, and so did not know how they might react to such a movement. Ultimately she pulled her vest forward a bit to make the sword less noticeable.
  As they approached, two of the guards stepped forward and held up a hand to them.
  "Halt and state your business," said one of them. Kenneth slowed his pace, held up both hands and smiled.
  "Greetings... John, is it?" said Kenneth. 'John' cocked an eyebrow. "I have returned home and wish to see my father, King Silas, and my mother, Queen Lily."
  'John' was still puzzled, but then his companion widened his eyes in surprise and realization, then gasped.
  "Your Highness!" he said, and began dropping into a bow, making sure to pull on John's arm to follow. John finally recognized his Prince, and gave the proper greeting. Behind them, the rest of the detachment made their own realizations at their own pace. Kenneth still had both hands up and was now attempting to quiet them.
  "Gentlemen," he said firmly, "Thank you for your greetings. I'm very glad to be home. And as you can see-" he gestured towards Mara. "-The lady is with me. But please: do not annou-"
  "PRINCE KELVIN HAS RETURNED!" someone shouted from the back. Sentries along the wall suddenly leaned over, then carried along the message.
     "PRINCE KELVIN HAS RETURNED!"
    "PRINCE KELVIN HAS RETURNED!"
"PRINCE KELVIN HAS RETURNED!"
         "Huzzah! Prince Kelvin has returned!"
  "--has returned!"
         "--returned!"
 "Prince-!"
  "...Announce me," Kelvin finished, and could only stand and listen to the great clamor coming from outside and inside the castle as news of his return was heard by possibly everyone on the grounds. His parents, too, no doubt.  He turned to Mara, shrugged, and gave her a half-smile. She looked back at him, wide-eyed, frozen in position. He was unable to decipher her thoughts from the expression, which, while the eyes showed alarm, the rest showed: nothing.
  "I had hoped to spare you any surprises," he said. "Do you accept this as proof?"
  Before she could answer, the guards suddenly surrounded them both and began guiding them inside. Kenneth reached out to Mara, who did not take his hand, and neither did she change her expression. Once inside, the crowd quickly grew larger as well-wishers called to him and waved and bowed and curtsied and if bold enough, blew kisses. And while making sure to acknowledge the high spirits of the crowd, Kelvin's main concern was to keep him and Mara from getting separated.
  Seamus, Captain of the Guard, pushed his way through the crowd and greeted his Prince first with a bow, and then a manly embrace. Kelvin was distracted by his greetings and began to inquire after his parents, then stopped walking and looked about. He did not see Mara, and called for her. Seamus then bade the crowd to disperse. That it took him more than one time before the people listened was an irritant, but it was allowable, given the circumstances. Eventually the people returned to their old activities, and parted until Mara was in view again. She was a full ten paces behind Kelvin, having stopped walking at some point and letting the crowd carry him away.  Kelvin smiled in relief and ran to her. Seamus was equally quick to stay at the Prince's side.
  She was still stunned into speechlessness, and looked about in a jerky motion, like a startled bird getting its bearings. Then her gaze fell on Kelvin's.
  Seamus said, "Your Highness, do you know this woman?"
  "I should say so," said Kelvin. "Seamus, this is the Lady Mara: my betrothed."
  "Oh! My Lord, congratulations!" said Seamus, and bowed to her. "My Lady."
  "And Lady Mara," said Kelvin, "This is Seamus, our Captain of the Guard. He taught me everything I know about combat."
  "But not everything I know," added Seamus with an impish smile. Kelvin chuckled; Mara joined in awkwardly.
  "...Proof," she finally managed to say, keeping her gaze on Kelvin. "You... proof."
  "Proof," he said, smiling and nodding. "Now, are you certain that you don't want a life of indulgence or luxury? I'm afraid it will be difficult to avoid."
  "Uh..."
  "MAKE WAY FOR THE KING AND QUEEN!" somebody called out from somewhere. Seamus and Kelvin turned towards the castle proper, the three-story royal residence that sat in the center of the castle grounds, and which Mara was somehow only just now noticing. Two figures that were clearly of a monarchical nature headed their way, surrounded by a phalanx of attendants and personal guards. The group moved as one, keeping perfect distances from each member, until reaching Kelvin, Seamus and Mara, where the attendants and guards moved aside in order to allow the King and Queen to step forward and greet the Prince - their son. Seamus also bowed and stepped aside to give them room. Mara noted that, like the Prince, she was taller than both of them, and yet still felt quite small in their presence. She was also entirely ignorant of royal protocol and did not know if she was supposed to bow, curtsey, step aside, or leave their presence entirely.
  It was the Queen who spoke first, after a gasp at the sight of her son. "Oh, dear Lord," she said, touching his cheeks. "Son, you're-- you look half-starved! Your color is ghastly! Your clothes have become tatters! What happened to you out there??"
  Kelvin took her hands gently into his own and patted them. "Fear not, Mother -- Father. I am well, but yes: I really--" He turned back a little to indicate Mara-- "That is, we could use food, drink, and hot baths right now."
  The King and Queen noticed Mara for the first time and glanced her way. She froze, uncertain if she was supposed to speak for herself now, or again, start bowing, curtseying, singing, dancing...
  The King pointed at her while addressing Kelvin.
  "What, who is this, now?" said the King. Kelvin released his mother's hands, then stepped back to take Mara's hands before facing his parents again. If Kelvin had thought to put an ear to her chest, he might have started dancing a jig to her heartbeat. Mara was uncertain how much longer she could remain conscious.
  "Father -- Mother," he said, his whole face beaming, but somehow also with a hint of caution, "Believe me that I understand that this day is full of surprises. And I understand that this will be the largest. But please let me introduce to you:  the Lady Mara. She is the woman whose hand I asked for in marriage. And last night, without knowing anything of-" He used his head and eyes to indicate the castle grounds. "-This, she accepted."
  If it was possible for a busy, enclosed village to fall into dead silence, now would have been the time for it. As for Mara, she could only hear her own heartbeat and breathing to a point of near-deafening. She did not even hear Kelvin leaning closer to whisper "Curtsey" from the side of his mouth. After two times, he gave up and resumed smiling at his stone-faced parents. Even if Mara had heard him, she would not have known how. Women she had seen doing it always had their legs hidden by skirts and dresses, so she could only have guessed - incorrectly, no doubt - what they were doing.
  Suddenly a raven's cry in the distance broke the silence.
  "Did she," said the King flatly.
  "Father, I understand that you and Mother will wish to discuss this-"
  "OH," said the King. "Of that, there is no doubt whatsoever."