The Pauper Prince - Part 37

The Pauper Prince
Chapter 37



"No."

"But Sire," said Mara, "I realize this seems to be on a whim, but it's not. Will you at least bless the idea of it and let us present the details over time?"

King Silas and Queen Lily looked to one another, and held their gaze. If Mara did not know better, she would swear they were communicating by thoughts alone. Finally they both nodded as one.

"No," said the King.

"You've spoken of this before," said the Queen. "I thought you were done with it."

"I beg your pardon, Mother Queen," said Mara, "But one moment of speaking of it did not mean I was done. I merely let the subject rest for the time."

"Mother - Father," said Kelvin, "If I may-"

"First of all," said the King, "Do you have any idea how selling your possessions will appear to others? We do not need people thinking the kingdom is bankrupt!"

"But we could assure people that it's not," said Mara. "That it's entirely for a project of my own. Which it is!"

The Queen scoffed. "Rumor is much fleeter of foot and travels far wider than the truth. And both of you are planning to turn our castle into a marketplace?"

"I'm only trying to help her," said Kelvin, putting an arm around Mara. "Trust me, it would be a discreet venture. Not setting up a stand and calling to passersby!" Mara giggled at his jest and leaned closer to him. She glanced toward the King and Queen; they were most assuredly not amused. The couple quashed their mirth as quickly as they could.

Kelvin persevered. "We know that it's a strange idea - perhaps even mad-"

"That brings me to the second point," said the King. "A 'school for women?' What women? Will parents send their daughters away? Will a husband allow his wife to leave their home and attend this 'school?' And what do you expect them to do after they've become such learned scholars?"

"Father, there's no call for mockery-"

"Oh, believe me," he said. "I am restrained."

"My Lord," said Mara, smiling as demurely as she could. She stepped forward and reached for his hand. He sighed and kept it at his side. After an awkward pause, he relented and allowed her to kiss it.

"I beseech you to reconsider," she said softly. "If I may be so bold, this is unlike you. You are renowned for your careful consideration of facts and opinions. Of taking the time you need to make your decisions. I stand before you, your loving daughter-in-law for this very reason: because you gave much thought to my worthiness to join your family. For this alone I am forever grateful."

"Resorting to flattery, are we?" he said.

"It's no flattery, my Lord," she said. "It is the truth. You are a wise and thoughtful King. You do not make rash decisions."

"But I can and do make wise decisions quickly, when it's called for," he said.

She asked, "And... do you believe that this decision should be as quick?" She paused for an answer. When he gave none, she was emboldened. "I seek only to benefit women. The ones without the benefits of the high-born and wealthy. Ones like me." The King sighed and looked away. "Father, if you regret giving me the opportunities to learn, please say it now. Because now that I've tasted knowledge, there is a hunger that will never be quenched. And I want others to taste it as I have. To hunger as I do, and to feast as I do. Those who would-- never have a chance, otherwise. If this offends you, please tell me. And... I would wish to know your reason, though I have no right to ask."

The King and Queen exchanged looks again. He looked to his son, who stood tall beside his wife and rested his hand lightly on her shoulder. After a long silence, the King cleared his throat quietly, then folded his arms.

"Very well," he said. "You have earned... careful consideration." The couple broke into broad smiles, which did not please the King. "I would not be so hasty to rejoice. Your marriage had a better chance than this."

"But it is a chance, my Lord," said Mara. "For even considering it, you have my-- our gratitude." He allowed her to kiss his hand again, but was caught by surprise at the sudden kiss on his cheek. Even a King could not prevent the reddening of his own face. She kissed the Queen's hand, as well, then stood aside for Kelvin. The Prince skipped their hands entirely and embraced them as their son before leaving them to their careful consideration.

Halfway down the corridor, Mara stopped him, then glanced back the way they'd come to make sure the King and Queen had not been following.

"Kelvin," she said apprehensively, "I probably should remove Flora's oak chest from my list, shouldn't I?"

He thought for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, I think that would be best."

***********
She and Kelvin had slept in her bed that night - a rare event - because she had been determined to care for Isabel until morning, and the spare crib was in Mara's bedroom. He had anticipated a night utterly devoid of sleep, and was uncharacteristically pessimistic before lying down for the night. The next morning Mara claimed good fortune that Isabel had allowed them two three-hour stretches of sleep. He was less than convinced, but she had borne the brunt of all-night feedings, not he. That night Isabel had needed only one sitting. Kelvin woke early, kissed his favorite girls good morning, and then left to begin his own day. Heather had not arrived yet.

Mara scarcely heard the timid knock on the parlor door. She was not even properly clothed, but she braved opening the door a crack. Then she opened it fully to allow Miss Daphne inside. The nanny's demeanor was as demure as always, but the sagging under her eyes was slightly diminished.

"Good morning, Miss Daphne," said Mara cheerfully. "How are you feeling this morning?" She smiled broadly. Isabel sat in the crook of her left arm and regarded the nanny with wide eyes, but otherwise no expression.

The nanny did not answer right away, but looked first to her charge, then the Princess, who waited with practiced patience. She took the Princess' hand and kissed it.

Mara chuckled and pulled away gently. "Oh, you know you don't need to do that," she said.

"I do," said Miss Daphne. "I must. I..." She took a sudden intake of breath and shuddered. "Oh, dear," she whispered, and covered her mouth, but in vain. Her moistening eyes were enough to concern the Princess.

"What is this?" said Mara. "What's happened? Was your day unpleasant?"

"Forgive me, your Highness," she said, her voice cracking. "I only need a moment. You should never see this sort of display. It's unseemly!"

"Oh, it is not," said Mara. She held out a hand. "Please; sit with me. We'll talk." The nanny tried to voice a protest, but ultimately followed her Lady and sat beside her. The Princess kept Isabel on her own lap this time. Miss Daphne shivered, then took in a deep breath. This helped to ease her tears. She breathed deeply several more times.

"Take your time," said Mara. "Just relax. Tell me when you're ready." She bounced Isabel gently to pass the time.

"Thank you, your Highness," the nanny said softly. "First, my day was... very pleasant. I did sleep, as you bade me. And rested. I knitted, which is relaxing to me. I sat in the garden and prayed. I-- I thanked the Lord for sending me-- for blessing me with such a mistress as you."

Mara scoffed. "Miss Daphne, you... you flatter me. There's no need for that. But thank you."

"You don't understand, your Highness," said Miss Daphne. Her tears were under control now, as was her voice, though it was a little hoarse. "Yesterday you told me to look after myself. Myself. And I had a wonderful day for it. You are the only mistress who has done this."

Mara furrowed her brow. "What do you mean, the 'only' one? Surely your other mistresses have been fair, yes? They gave you good marks. And Miss Daphne, I've said from the start, I want you to feel welcome here, and comfortable, and certainly not to work yourself to death! Do you... not feel welcome? Or comfortable? Do you feel overworked?"

"No, your Highness," she said. "It's not that at all. As for my other mistresses... Before you, I have served two families. Everyone believes themselves to be fair. To be just. To be clear in their wants and needs. To be... good mistresses."

"Miss Daphne," said Mara, "If I've been none of those things, would you tell me?"

"You have been all of those things," she said. "A hundredfold. And... forgive me that it's taken me so long to realize it. To believe it. But until now, all my life, it has had no worth but what care I gave to their children, and to them. In... In my youth, when I served my first mistress, there was a time that I became quite ill. I was weak; I could barely stand for even brief moments. I had trouble keeping down food and drink. I actually feared for my life, let alone their children's, should my strength fail me. And... I asked my mistress if I could rest and be healed. She said no." Mara said nothing, but placed a free hand on Miss Daphne's knee. "I learned to hide any and all illness and afflictions from her, for she would hear none of it. And my next mistress - before coming to serve you - she... did not tolerate mistakes. Ever."

Miss Daphne paused to look away and take in another breath. "If I make a mistake, I need only be told once, and it will not happen again. But anything I did wrong the first time, there was no telling. I was simply beaten or flogged. It-- Which one depended on her mood, I think."

"What could--" said Mara, "What could possibly merit being beaten? Being flogged? Were their children harmed? Was that it?"

"Oh, no, never, your Highness," said Miss Daphne. "I have never harmed a child. They were... mistakes. Things that displeased her. Dressing the children with the wrong clothing. Not preparing their food just as they liked. Mistakes. That's all I could fathom from it." Mara had her hand on her mouth and did not reply yet. "No mistress has ever cared... for me. And though I have been trained my whole life to ignore myself, it is another thing to live with that. That's why I wept, your Highness. You gave me a gift, and I cherish it."

"The pleasure was mine," said Mara. "But would you like to know something? A confession?" Miss Daphne nodded. "It wasn't only concern for you. You were impaired, after all. I was concerned for Isabel. The first woman you described - the one who made you work while ill? She was a fool. An idiot! Well, both of those women were, for treating you as they did. If you ever came to me that ill, I wouldn't want you anywhere near my children! You'd be spending your days with our physician until well again. And you might have heard that Gildern suffered a plague not all that long ago. They treat illness very seriously here. As do I, without needing memories of that. Miss Daphne, you must always tell me if you're impaired, for any reason. There is no shame in that. And no punishment. Do you understand?"

"Yes, your Highness," she said. "I do. Thank you."

"I have a question," said Mara. "It may sound odd, but... do you trust me? I ask because, given what you've told me, it wouldn't surprise me if it doesn't come easily for you."

The nanny spoke softly. "You're correct, your Highness. It does not come easily. But I do trust you."

"And Kelvin?" asked Mara. "Er... His Highness? The King and Queen?"

"...As much as I need to, to perform my work," she said.

Mara regarded this curiously. "Hm," she said finally. "I think I understand that."

Miss Daphne took another breath, straightened up, and looked the Princess in the eye. "Your Highness," she said, and waited. Mara nodded. "You offered me a day of rest each week. Until yesterday I refused it. I... I did much thinking yesterday. If your offer is still firm, would I have your leave to use Sunday - the Lord's day - for my day of rest? Just to try it?"

"Of course," said Mara. "First thing Sunday morning, I'll take Isabel, and until first thing Monday morning, you'll have the day to yourself."

"It-- Truly? Just like that?"

Mara smiled. "Just like that."

Miss Daphne was speechless at first, as if unable to absorb the reality of her new world. She held up a finger. "B-But if, for any reason, you truly need me that day, rest assured I will be ready to serve. In an instant!"

Mara smiled again. "I'm sure you will be, Miss Daphne," she said. "But only if I truly --there is no other way out, no respite in sight, cannot make it another moment--! need you."

For once, the nanny responded as hoped for one of her jests, and cracked a smile. Awkwardly, and with some attempts to restrain it, but she did show the promise of a sense of humor. Then in all seriousness, she took Mara's hand again and kissed it.

"Thank you so much, Mara," she said, then gasped and sat bolt upright. "I-I-I-I mean to say-!  I mean-! I mean..."

Her Lady said nothing, but handed Isabel to her for the day's changing of the guardian. Heather heralded her arrival via the particular knock on the bedroom door that she used. Mara excused herself to fetch it. Miss Daphne stayed behind with Isabel, and tried not to listen to the handmaiden explain her tardiness.

***********
Bells rang, people shouted "Huzzah!," well-wishers came or sent emissaries to do so, gifts were sent, feasts were held, and there was joy in Gildern. The Princess Mara was with child.

So was her assistant.

The Pauper Prince - part 36

The Pauper Prince
Chapter 36


Adding insult to injury was Count Richard's challenges in finding a clergyman to agree to preside over his wife's funeral. Lucinda's suicide was categorically declared a great sin, with her chances of salvation moot. One pastor dared to claim it folly to pretend that she was resting at peace, rather than being tormented for all eternity. It took all the Count's self-restraint, which was weak at best, to refrain from severely damaging the clergyman for that opinion. He knew what would change the church's mind, but did not have the means to do so.

He had no favors to call in, and so went in debt to his friends, King Silas and Prince Kelvin. The King was willing to aid the Count in his time of need, and though he could not order any clergyman to perform the Countess' memorial, he and Kelvin managed to "persuade" one after a dip into their coffers. Richard had little to give himself, but contributed from his meager funds to get the funeral back on track.

The Count made a mistake that almost cost the Prince's aid; he let slip that he blamed the Princess for Lucinda's death. The Count was overheard  that the Princess "filled (his wife's) head with nonsense that did naught but bring her to despair and lead her to her end!" When Kelvin learned of this, there was some groveling on Richard's part, lest all of their efforts be dismissed. In no uncertain terms Richard was ordered to give no indication that he resented her presence. This was his price in order to give his wife the burial he desired. That she deserved.

Kelvin did not inform Mara of any controversy behind her attendance; this was a fruitless effort, for castle gossip was an unstoppable force. Ladies in waiting let that juicy tidbit slip out in her presence - whether it was on purpose was unknown - but any hope to get a rise out of Mara was quashed. Her response to them had been stony silence; since learning of her friend's death, she was scarcely able to speak due to her grief and personal guilt. But she would be damned if Lucinda would not have her last respects.

The service was respectful and somber, and gave her at least some sense of peace. Still, if only she could have remained behind; she could have saved her friend. But she did not begrudge her family for ordering her to leave, for Anne's need for support was just as great, if not greater.

But.. she could have saved her!

Couldn't she?

*******

Mara's dark clothing was limited to two dresses, so she traded them off for a two weeks until they truly needed a washing. While those were away with the washing-women, she wore dark bands on the sleeves of her normal clothing and other accessories such as a dark bonnet. But it was not all darkness. News of new life had reached the castle: the Countess Yvette had borne a son - healthy, by all accounts. It was still ill-advised for Isabel to travel long distances, so Mara sent her a letter and a gift of a crib. Visiting in person would happen once she and Isabel could travel together.

Her first staff meeting upon returning from Halliard, which still consisted of only Heather and Miss Daphne, was pleasantly civil and calm. It gladdened Mara to find that they had not devolved back into bickering in her absence. That, or they were simply being somber for her grief's sake. Isabel sat upright on her mother's lap and sucked on her carved wooden horse rather than play with it. She preferred gripping and tugging on her mother's emerald betrothal ring, which for now, her mother allowed.

Heather was eager to update her Lady on the latest news. There were no new births on the grounds, but there had been some birthdays, two promotions from apprentice to journeyman, one wedding, and two wedding anniversaries. Mara took the list and set it aside for later action. Heather tried to move on to gossiping; Mara ended that quickly. Miss Daphne clearly had no taste for it, either, given all her yawning this morning.

A subject change was in order. "I was wondering how you and Leonard have fared in my absence?" said Mara. "If you're willing to discuss it."

"Oh..." said Heather. "Perhaps later. But I will say that things are much improved. Both of our parents have been of great help. I think... I have greater hope for us now."

Mara smiled and nodded. "I'd like to see sometime what you two have made of your little home. If it wouldn't be an imposition?" She had other questions, but they would wait.

"Mm... No, of course not, ma'am!" said Heather after a jot of hesitation. "That would be lovely. By all means. I'll let you know my-- our choice as soon as we know."

Mara had not had the chance to update her staff about her visit with Anne and her family. She began to describe highlights of the visit, including the somber, but already known, news about King Phillip's passing. From sadness, to joy for Rupert's coronation, and then grief for Lucinda. The room grew quiet at that. Mara did not milk the somberness, and spoke after a moment.

"Heather, I have a task for you-" she was stopped by a loud snort. Mara's and Heather's heads snapped over as one, to see that it had come from the nanny, who sat limply in her chair, fast asleep. Mara cleared her throat, which did nothing. She reached out and gingerly patted the nanny's knee. Miss Daphne snorted again and jerked herself awake. Realizing that she had an audience, she quickly straightened up and adjusted her clothing primly.

"Miss Daphne," said Mara, "Have you had enough sleep?"

"Er, yes, your Highness," she said. "I was merely resting my eyes. Please continue."

"I have finished my story," said Mara. "How well did you sleep?"

"Oh," she said, "As well as I ever do, your Highness. Would you mind if I have some tea?"

"Please," said Mara. "This is our meeting, after all. We have whatever we like. And what is 'as well as you ever do,' if I might ask?" The nanny seemed perplexed. "How well do you usually sleep?"

Miss Daphne had been pouring tea for herself, then paused and smiled nervously. "Please, your Highness. There's no cause for taking notice of my brief lapse. I am wide awake now, and ready to serve, as you can see."

"I can," she said. "Please answer my question."

Miss Daphne finished pouring her tea, set it and a saucer on her lap, then glanced at her Lady while taking a first sip. She set it down with precision and attempted another smile. "It is... it is an affliction I have lived with most of my life, your Highness," she said. "It is... very rare that I have a full night of sleep. But then, that is a trait that serves me well in my duties as Her Little Highness's caretaker. If I slept as a stone, then her stirrings would never wake me, would they?"

"I can see how that would be so," said Mara. "But now I must ask: it is very rare that you sleep? What is this affliction?"

"I beg your pardon, your Highness," said Miss Daphne. "My words were too strong. It is only that I-- it is rare that I'm able to sleep. And when I do, it is hours before I finally do, and if I wake-- again, hours more to sleep again."

"Is it Isabel?" said Mara. "Does she keep you awake?"

"Oh, no, your Highness," said Miss Daphne. "It's no fault of Her Little Highness. Not at all. As I said, this... challenge... has been with me most of my life. And... sometimes it catches up. But I give you my absolute assurance that my care and service are unwavering."

Mara reached for some tea herself, but given the awkwardness of managing it while balancing her daughter on her knee, Heather leapt into action to serve her Lady. Mara thanked her, took a sip, and left it to Heather to keep her cup and saucer nearby.

"Miss Daphne," she said, "Be plain with me. No roundabout stories or long explanations of this or that: Did you get any sleep last night?"

The nanny chuckled once, finished her tea, set it aside, and straightened her skirt. "Your Highness, because I have lived with this most of my life, I-"

"Did you. Get. Any. Sleep. Last. Night?"

The nanny froze in place, struggling to keep her breathing slow and even. Heather stood quietly and went to the next room, also as silently as she could. The nanny's struggle to slow her breathing made her voice a whisper.

"No, your Highness. I did not. But-"

"When was the last time that you did?" said Mara, and gave her a Look that dared her to answer in any other way than 'plainly.'

"...Ah," she said, rubbing her neck nervously, "I have... bits and pieces of it most nights, your Highness."

"I see," said Mara. Isabel suddenly looked up at her. Mara and her daughter locked gazes as if intending to begin their own conversation. Isabel broke the stare by smiling. Her mother chuckled and kissed her nose, then the top of her head.

"Miss Daphne," she said, "I want you to return to your room and rest. Sleep. Take as long as you need."

The nanny spoke with alarm. "Your Highness! I-I assure you that there is no cause for-"

"Miss Daphne." Mara was careful to temper her frustration so as not to unduly alarm Isabel, who had proven to be sensitive to her mother's moods, for good or ill. "Please do this. I have no doubt that you'll strive to do your duty to your utmost, as you always do. But if you have not slept, you only damage yourself by ignoring it."

"Your Highness, please..."

"When we first met," said Mara, "I offered you a day of rest each week, for you to have no duties. A free day of your own. You turned it down, and I respect that. But I also said that I want to learn to care for my child on my own. That there would be times I would care for her all day, on my own. This will be one of those days."

"Your Highness," Miss Daphne whispered. There was a waver to her voice, but her eyes remained dry. "Please don't think this diminishes my ability to fulfill my duties."

"Please don't make me--" said Mara, then sucked in a breath and bit her lip to hold it in. She let it out and relaxed. "Don't make me order you to rest. I try not to be a stern mistress. I try to be fair. I want those who assist me to, to be content in their work. Even though it is work, but still. Dear Miss Daphne, I am not trying to punish you. This is not a reflection on your work. I mean to help you. There is no shame in caring for yourself for once. Look after your health. Take today - all of today - to sleep. Rest. Whatever you need to be refreshed. I can ask someone to care for you today. A handmaiden. A valet. Solomon. Please do this. I don't want to order you to."

As if on cue, Miss Daphne was overwhelmed by the need to yawn. She covered it immediately, but it was too late. Isabel was pulled along, as will happen for a yawn. Mara managed to resist the spell, but only barely.

Miss Daphne all but forced her mouth to shut until the urge passed. "As you wish, Ma-- your Highness," she said. She blushed at her near-miss. A chink in the armor. It was a start. "You will not need to order me. I think you are... a fair mistress. You do show care and concern for your servants. All here do, I think. I will... I will rest today, as you say. I-I shouldn't need a handmaiden, though. They serve you and Her Majesty; they are not for the likes of me."

"They are for 'the likes' of anyone we wish," Mara said gently. She offered a gentle smile as well, which the nanny struggled to return. Finally she managed a crooked facsimile of relaxation. Mara took Isabel into her arms and stood up. Miss Daphne was on her feet immediately after. Mara held Isabel closer to the nanny. "Give her a farewell hug and kiss?" Miss Daphne gave her a wary look. "Farewell for today," said Mara. The nanny relaxed and primly kissed her charge on the cheek. No hug followed.

Miss Daphne curtsied deeply. "Your Highness, I will return as swiftly as possible."

"You will return," said Her Highness, "When you have properly rested. No sooner."

"Yes," she said. "That is what I meant."

After Miss Daphne's departure, Heather was clear to return to the room. Mara thanked her for her discretion, and then immediately followed with a description of Heather's new project. She did not give the reason for it, but Heather assured her that it would be handled quickly, given her penchant for organization.

*****

That same day Mara had made several attempts to read to her daughter from her favorite history book, but the afternoon proved not to be the time for a bedtime story. Isabel preferred crawling at a fast clip, grabbing and tossing things, and general babbling over listening to tales of the kings and queens of old. It wasn't long before Mara gave up, and tried to keep pace with her on her hands and knees.

There was a familiar knock on the door. She stood quickly and scooped a reluctant Isabel into her arms, then called for their visitor to enter. She knew it was Kelvin before he entered, but they had a polite agreement to knock first if their chamber doors were shut. They had both taken to knocking in particular ways.

"Ba!" said Isabel, smiling and reaching out.

Mara gasped playfully. "Look, Isabel! A strange man has entered our room!" Kelvin paused a moment, then showed a subtly wry smile before coming towards them at a leisurely pace. "Whatever shall we do?" Mara looked to her daughter, who gurgled happily at her advancing father. "Shall we flee and hope he doesn't pursue?"

"Zhhee!"

"Or shall we stand our ground," said Mara, "And face him in all our bravery? Hm?" Kelvin cocked his head and kept his hands behind his back as he approached. Isabel laughed for reasons known only to her. By now he was an arm's length from his wife and daughter.

Mara smiled and spoke dreamily. "I agree, little one," she said. "We shall stand our ground before this strange... handsome... man." She closed her eyes and met him in a kiss. They parted, then exchanged several more, with the final one lasting several breaths.

She whispered, "Forgive me, Isabel." {Kiss} "I am powerless-" {Kiss} "-before him." They both closed their eyes and stood forehead to forehead. Isabel grunted in frustration - or perhaps just envy - which worked; her father kissed her tiny hand and nuzzled her face. Mara was content to watch their happy interactions as long as they kept them up. Eventually Isabel allowed him to part, but insisted on keeping a firm grip on his hand.

"What news, dearest?" said Mara.

He shrugged his shoulders lightly. "No news to give," he said. "Take it as a blessing?"

"I do," she said. "And I'm glad that you're here. Not that I aren't always, but there's something I hope to discuss. If you have the time for it?"

"I am at your disposal," he said, placing his free hand over his heart.

"Excellent," she said, and sat on a settee, then beckoned him to join her. He did, and took Isabel from her to place on his own lap.

"What news, dearest?" he said.

"Oh," she said, then forced a chuckle at his jest. "Ah ha. Yes. Well. First, I have a question: do you think it would... reflect poorly on me, or on us - the kingdom? - if I tried to sell any of my possessions?"

She had rebuttals ready for him, but did not expect silence from him. His expression was subtle, but she could tell that he was curious.

"I want to raise money - on my own, as much as I'm able - to build a school," she said. He went from curious to perplexed. "For women. A school for women." Now he sighed and turned away. "I know, Darling," she said, placing a hand on his arm. "I know this seems like a mad scheme, or worse, an impossible task, but it's something I've been turning over and over in my mind for a long time. I want to do something to benefit women. I've thought about a sanctuary for ill-treated woman and their children. A hospital. A school, as well, and I asked Mother Queen and other Ladies about it. They thought I was joking, of course. But I'm not. And... and I know that Count Richard thinks that I harmed Lucinda by teaching her about different laws. Do you believe him? Do you think that I made things worse for her?"

He considered a reply, then shrugged lightly again. "I don't believe so. But only God can say for certain. We know she had been troubled long before. Who's to say her path wasn't inevitable? Do you blame yourself for her death?"

"No," she said quietly. "I have my guilt for it, but I don't claim the cause. She was... a difficult person to love. I hope I'm not speaking ill of the dead to say it." He shook his head and leaned over to kiss her cheek. "But my interest in aiding woman has been rekindled. I think a school would honor her memory, though her husband would disagree. We shared a love of history, you know. In fact, she gave me that book, which has become my favorite. So... what do you think, dearest? I know there are so many things to consider. Where to put it? How much will it cost? How big? How many students could be housed? Um... Who would teach there? And if anyone were willing to teach, would anyone else out there... accept it?"

"Hm," he said, finally turning in his seat to face her. "It's good that you have those questions, because I did, too. I think your last two are the most significant."

"People were willing to teach me," she said. "I don't agree that one must be high-born or wealthy to have such opportunities."

"I have another question," he said. "Let's say that a low-born, poor woman attended your school. What would she do with that knowledge?"

Mara looked aside and was quiet. Her brow was furrowed; it was difficult to tell if she was thinking or was frustrated.

Kelvin shrugged. "I'm only playing devil's advocate-"

She held up a hand. "I want to say 'anything she wants,' but I know that would be folly. I know that the notion of a learned woman is laughable to some, even though here I am, walking about with books in my hand all day, and no one titters. But if a farmer's wife or daughter tries it...!" She sighed. "I don't expect a miraculous new world for women. But what if a tiny part of it is new? Is that enough? Here and now, a woman may be a Queen, and command a kingdom and be served hand and foot her whole life, and yet no woman may be a doctor? A judge? A sheriff?? I suppose there might even be those who call it heresy, what I hope to do. But I still hope to do it."

She paused to give him more chances to "play devil's advocate," as he put it, but his silence was discomforting.

"Kelvin, please speak, and speak it plain," she said. "Will you support me? Will you support your mad wife and her mad schemes?"

In spite of himself, this brought about a chuckle. He tucked his free hand under her chin. "I'm glad that you see the madness of this," he said. "The danger, in fact. You know this is a dangerous idea, yes?" She nodded. "But yes. I support you." She laughed, her eyes moistened, and she kissed his hand reverently.

"Know this, my love," she said. "If you didn't, I would still try. But having your blessing means everything to me."

"Somehow that sentiment sounds familiar," he said with a wink. She recognized it, too, and laughed with him. "Mara... Dear... I don't suppose you have a list of the possessions that you intend to sell?"

She tried to hid her contrite expression. She picked up her book and leafed through it, then handed Kelvin a folded up paper. "Heather made a list for me." He nodded and read the list in silence. "It was her big project of the day." She smiled nervously. He nodded again and continued reading. Occasionally an eyebrow went up.

"You know that the oak chest by your bed was Flora's?" he said.

"Oh," she said, "So... it should be removed?"

"Mmmm... We'll ask Mother," he said, and scanned the list again. "Hm. Your armoire? Really? And by 'jewelry,' what sort do you mean?"

"Oh," she said, "Well... You know, some items that, that I don't care for or could not use. Uh, like earrings, because I will never willingly wound myself. Not in the ears or anywhere. And I don't care for, uh, bracelets and other dangly things. B-but I realize that everything I own was a gift, one way or another. I imagine that I would need to be careful not to approach the very person who gave me said gift."

"I would agree with that," he said. "In fact-" He folded up the list and handed it back to her. "-Why don't we do this? First, I'm proud of what you're trying to do. I am. But you know that I'm not the only one to convince of this 'mad scheme?'"

She smiled at his jest, until realization came. Then it faded. "Oh. Yes. B-but we can speak to them together. If they can agree to and bless our marriage, surely they'd allow this?"

"We shall see," he said. "But what I was going to suggest, our King willing, is that I would present these items, not to your Lady friends, but to their husbands and suitors." Off her confused look, "Your friends might have interest in them, but they're not the ones who'd buy them. Savvy?"

"...Oh," she said, nodding. "I suppose you're right. But dear, this is my project, not yours. Would that be too much trouble?"

He cocked his head and gave her his own Look. "You asked for my support, yes?" She nodded. "Then you have it. In fact, now you've got me thinking. Perhaps I'll have some valets pick through my own belongings. See what trash - or treasure - they can find." He kept his expression deadly serious, then cracked it with a wink and a wry smile. It was only the presence of their daughter that prevented Mara from immediately tackling and ravishing him. Instead they took the time to place her in her playpen, fill it with entertaining objects, and then tackle and ravish one another until suppertime.

The Pauper Prince - Part 35

The Pauper Prince
Chapter 35

Mara offered her room for Lucinda to stay in as often as needed during her friend's trying time. The Countess was grateful and ready to take up the offer, but her acceptance was moot. The King and Queen did not grant permission for this, stressing that the castle was not a home for wayward women, and that the Countess' place was with her husband, regardless of the state of their marriage. The latter admonition came from an unwritten law: society's law. Kelvin, for his part, offered support for her intention but ultimately agreed with his parents.

"Richard suffers, too," he said.

"Perhaps not enough," she grumbled.

"Mara!"

She flinched and withdrew from him slightly. Then she let out a deep breath and met his stern look. "Forgive me," she said. "I misspoke. You know I just want to help her."

"You've done enough for her," he said. "You've remained her friend when others have forsaken her."

"If you say so," she said. "I'll return to my studies, then. I've found some laws that may comfort her. Not just protections from divorce, but some protection if it goes through. I will share this knowledge with her. She needn't be wholly without hope."

"No, she needn't be," he said. "This might become famous last words for me, but I look forward to the day when your knowledge of the law matches mine."

"I hope to surpass it," she said with a wry smile. He met that with a tilt of his head. "How long have you studied it?"

"Taking into account all my other subjects," he said, "Perhaps... six years? But this is knowledge used every day, so in truth, I'm always studying it."

"Then I will read twice as quickly to catch up," she said.

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

"I've worked it out!" Heather said gleefully upon greeting her Lady one morning. Mara raised a curious eyebrow. "I should have thought of this from the start. I'll have my own servant!"

"Really?"

"Yes!" said Heather. "I think we have the money for it. What do you think, Ma'am? A girl to handle the chores that Leonard would have me do?"

"Oh!" said Mara. "That is clever. If that's the solution you two arrived at, I'm very happy for you."

Heather grinned, and then let out a small giggle. "Imagine," she said, "My own servant. Who would have thought my life could reach such a state so soon?" She giggled again, then suddenly lost her smile and showed concern. "Oh, no. I've forgotten my place. My Lady, do I have your blessing for it?"

"You don't need my blessing," said Mara. "As you say, if you have the money and are both agreed to it, then by all means, have your own assistant."

Heather cleared her throat quietly. "I think we have the money. And I only thought of this before seeing you now. Leonard and I have not yet spoken of it."

"Oh," said Mara, and thought a moment. "That is something you need to agree upon. If you think you need it, you have my 'blessing,' but it's your husband's that you need more."

"I know," said Heather distantly. "But it would such a boon for me. Us. Us. And... our own servant would be a sign of status. That is, aside from lightening my - our work at home. No, mine, if I'm to speak plainly. The home is where my work is. But a servant could take care of that drudgery. Oh, I hope he agrees to it. He must!"

Mara offered a gentle smile and pat on her arm. "I hope it works out for you. Er... I confess that I sought Her Majesty's counsel on how to help you. You'd asked me to mediate for you both, and... Well, I assumed that she had much experience in it. But it turns out that she dismisses any handmaidens who marry."

"I know," said Heather. "Then... does this mean that you plan to heed her counsel?"

"No," said Mara. "Bless her, she's given me rein to make my own rules for my staff. I'm confident that we can work out a solution that benefits us all. However, I do agree with her that it would not be fair of me to mediate for you."

"But my Lady-"

"Hear me," said Mara. "I am not impartial. You understand this, yes? To be fair to Leonard, we'd need to ask his Lord, the Captain of the Guard, to co-mediate, and that goes too far. This is not to say that, if still needed, you shouldn't find someone truly impartial."

Heather groaned quietly, then nodded. "Yes, Ma'am. I understand. We... need to resolve these things together. As... As husband and wife. Without... loud arguments."

There were no other words or sounds from the two women. Only the everyday bustle of the morning could be heard from Mara's parlor window.

Heather forced a smile. "I like the quiet. I didn't give it any thought until recently. Now I find it most relaxing. Don't you, Ma'am?"

"Yes, dear," she said. "I do."

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

A messenger arrived from Halliard with ill news: King Phillip had fallen quickly into worse health. His doctors did not give him long to live now. He recognized and remembered few these days and often refused food and drink, insisting that his caretakers were trying to harm him.

The family made immediate plans to visit their ally. King Silas and Queen Lily prepared to meet an old friend for the last time, whether he was aware of their presence or not. Mara, knowing that Isabel was still too young to make long and difficult journeys such as to Halliard, announced that she would remain behind with Isabel, and asked them to give Princess Anne her love. It was a matter-of-fact thing for her to declare. She thought it odd that this was met with stunned silence rather than understanding nods and agreements.

Before she knew it, the King and Queen had set her own husband upon her, who explained in calming tones - which did not work - that this was an occasion where political duty trumped familial devotion. All of the adult members of the family needed to go. Mara was too stunned to reply. She let him continue speaking, listening carefully in order to pick out the words, phrasing, or tones that would tell her that he spoke in jest.

Ultimately she gave up trying and spoke plainly. "Kelvin," she said as calmly as could muster, "You must tell me now: is all this a jest? Please, this is not something to make light of."

"I wish it were, Darling," he said. "Isabel must remain here and be cared for while we see to our allies and friends in Halliard."

She set her jaw. "Do not tell me this is what the nanny is for."

He looked away, rubbed his mouth, then back again. "It is what the nanny is for."

"Kelvin!"

"Mara!" said the King. "This is not a discussion. This is not to convince you or win your heart. We are all going. Halliard is one of our greatest allies. We're practically kin. Flora had been engaged to Rupert himself until..." He shook his head. "It is settled. Do what you must do to see to Isabel's care."

Mara stared at nothing, said nothing, as if in a trance.

"Well?"

She shook herself from her thoughts and spoke shakily. "Yes, Sire."

"Kelvin," he said, "Make the arrangements for a regent. We leave at daybreak tomorrow."

"Sire," said Kelvin, bowing quickly. He offered a hand to his wife. She started to reach for it, then shook her head gently. After a brief hesitation, he left the room. The King offered an arm to his Queen, who took it, sneaking a glance to the Princess before returning her attention to her husband. They began making their own exit and to tend to the affairs of the kingdom.

"My Lord?" Mara called to her King. He stopped and turned his good ear towards her.

"What?"

"How long will we be away?"

"None can say," he said. "But we'll be there as long as we're needed. Understand?"

"Yes, Sire," she said. "Thank you, Sire."

That night Mara insisted that Isabel's crib be moved into their bedroom. They did not stray from their bedtime tradition of Kelvin playing his lute and singing to her, followed by Mara reading to her from her favorite history book. The child was still not sleeping through the night, which was irrelevant. Mara sat beside her crib all night, in spite of Kelvin's gentle urging of her to return to bed. Unlike the King, he left the choice up to her.

Earlier that day the Queen had spoken to Mara privately and explained that even her own children, before they could travel, needed to be left behind when the affairs of state required traveling. And did not Kelvin turn out well in the end? Though Mara agreed, she wanted very much to ask the Queen if, had she known what Robert's and Flora's fates would be, would she have fought to stay behind, if only to have more time with them?

She wanted to ask that, but did not.

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

Upon arrival in Halliard in the evening, Mara noticed other coaches parked nearby. The family was led inside the castle and to the main hall, where King Phillip's family, the Funteyns, was gathered, absent King Phillip himself. Local Lords and Ladies were also here, surrounding the royals of the same gender. The majordomo announced the arrival of King Silas' family, and the Funteyns broke away from their entourages to greet their new arrivals. Formal greetings were exchanged, followed by informal greetings. The latest news about King Phillip was given, which was not heartening. The Royal Physician was not allowing visitors at the time, and so the new arrivals joined the groups of their respective peers: Gildern's King and Queen joined Halliard's Queen, the two Princes paired off, and Anne took Mara's hand to lead her to the waiting Ladies. Mara recognized half of the women, and introductions were made for those she did not. The women then resumed their various conversations.

Mara was tired now and not talkative. Most of her thoughts were of home, but she did half-listen. She picked up bits and bobs of gossip and descriptions of the latest fashions. Anne was smiling and nodding at most of it. The mental fluff probably helped to take her mind off her troubles. Mara started wondering where Anne's children were. Had they been told about their grandfather? Were they old enough to understand?

Finally dinner was announced. Mara had no preference of where to sit, but according to rank, she was seated beside Anne. Next to Mara sat a Duchess, and so on down the line. Almost as soon as she was seated, Anne patted her friend's hand and smiled. "I'm so glad you came," she said. "This means a great deal to us. To me. Also, I hope you'll forgive us for not yet seeing your little one. Father's condition made it too difficult for us to leave. You did receive our congratulations and gifts?"

"Yes," said Mara. "Thank you." Without warning, she was overwhelmed with tears. She had been so good for the whole journey. Four days of riding with the family, showing a brave face, saying nothing that would smack of a poor attitude, and now had to shut her eyes and hold a shaking fist to her mouth to muffle the sobbing. The Duchess beside her heard and looked concerned, but said nothing.

"Oh, no," whispered Anne. "What has happened? Has something happened to her?"

Mara could not yet speak, and shook her head. She needed to stop this before anyone else took notice. She leaned close to Anne to whisper.

"Don't... Don't mind me. We're here for your comfort, not ours. Just... This will pass. This will pass. Oh, don't let his Majesty see this."

Anne glanced in the King's direction, then back. She shook her head. "He does not see," she whispered. "He'll learn nothing from me."

"It's only..." Mara whispered, but her voice broke again.

"Ohhh, I understand now," Anne whispered. "Isabel is well, yes?" Mara nodded. "But still at home?" Nod. "Oh, my dear friend, I did warn you of this. You want to do everything for your child. You think she won't last a moment without you. I know; believe me. But her caretakers; they're devoted and competent, yes?" Nod. "They'll care for her as if their lives depended on it. After all, their lives do depend on it."

Mara nodded again, then looked up abruptly. "Oh, no, you see-"

Queen Genevieve stood and tapped her goblet several times. The other diners immediately stood and held up their drinks as she delivered a moving speech of gratitude and hopefulness, in spite of the certainty of King Phillip's fate. She praised her son and predicted that he would make an excellent King when the time came. As for herself, she claimed to be content to step back and live the rest of her days as the Queen Mother. At that the guests drank their fill and then were reseated.

The entertainment was light and merry to keep up the moods of the guests. Even the Fool performed that night - singing, juggling, cracking jokes, and on, to the delight of the diners. After dinner concluded, most guests retired to their respective rooms, though King Silas and Queen Lily followed their friend to visit King Phillip.

Rupert turned to Kelvin and slapped an arm. "Up for a hunt in the morning?" he said. "The foxes are particularly wily this year."

"Oh, is that where they've all gone?" said Kelvin. "Escaped to here, have they?"

"No, it must be that your dogs are too old, or your aim has gone off," said Rupert. The two Princes exchanged playful jabs before leaving the room together. It was around this time that Mara felt the effects of tonight's wine and mead, and stumbled a bit as she followed her friend. Fortunately they did not partake of punches, verbal or otherwise.

"Anne," she said, "Would you mind if I accompanied you to see your children?"

Anne paused, then smiled. "Like last time, hm? Please; join me. But they're likely to be abed, so we must be quiet."

Soon after, Anne stood in her children's doorway. The room was already dark. She cocked an ear and listened for any sounds of sleeping while Mara stood to the side at a respectful distance. After a few minutes, Anne began shutting the door.

"Mother?" a boy said.

"Hush, Phillip," she whispered. "Don't wake your siblings."

"We're awake, Mother," said another boy. Thomas, Mara thought.

"Oh, you rascals," said Anne, and stepped inside. There was some fumbling to find a match to light one of the candles. When that was done, she sat on the edge of young Phillip's bed and beckoned Mara inside. "Boys, you remember her Highness, Princess Mara of Gildern?"

"Hello/Good evening, Ma'am," the boys overlapped in greeting.

"Hello, boys," she replied in greeting, then peered into the darkness for Anne's youngest, the infant - no, toddler by now - Elizabeth. Her bed was found quickly. The girl was still asleep. Mara caught herself staring at the girl as though she were watching her own child.

"She has just had a child of her own," said Anne. "Little Princess Isabel. But she's too young to be here tonight, or we'd all be meeting her now. Her Highness is very sad about this, so you all be especially kind to her and also be on your best behavior."

"Yes, Mother," said the boys. Mara was half-listening to the conversation, and tore herself away from watching Elizabeth. She smiled and patted the boys' heads gently.

"Thank you, little Princes," she said. "Anne, you and Rupert have such lovely children. Would that Kelvin and I are blessed to have as many, and as lovely."

"Oh!" said Anne, standing. "I picture you with at least a dozen!" Her sons giggled.

"What?" said Mara with genuine concern. "Oh, my, I don't think I could-"

"I jest, dear girl, I jest," said Anne, slipping her arm around Mara's. "Or do I?" She leaned close and giggled. Mara was a little puzzled, but showed a small smile. Anne pointed inside the room. "And you, boys, take a hint from your sister and go to sleep!"

The two friends were chuckling as Anne shut the children's door and led Mara to her room. They stood outside the door. "Do you think Kelvin has retired already?"

"I don't know," said Mara. "But it's been a long and tiring day for us all, so I know that I'll be to bed soon. I should be ready for... Well, whatever we need to do for you tomorrow. We're all here for you."

"I know," said Anne. "Then I shall take my leave of you." She embraced Mara a long time - almost a full minute. When they parted, Anne kept staring into her eyes. Mara wondered if she should say her goodnights again. Then Anne smiled and leaned in. The alcohol was affecting her aim, so Mara helpfully turned her head to give Anne her cheek to kiss rather than her lips. The wine addled Mara's senses, as well, for Anne appeared to be ... disappointed? by this.

Finally she smiled again, patted Mara's hand, and then disappeared down the dark hallway.

Kelvin returned later from his visit with Rupert. It was likely that they had kept up with their wine and other potent potables. He fell into bed and draped himself clumsily over his wife, and for once seemed content to sleep right away rather than recreate. Mara lay with her back to him, which made it easier for her sobs to not disturb his sleep, as well. Even round-trip messages to and from Gildern to inquire about Isabel would take six days at best, if the messenger did not stop to rest. During one of their stops to Halliard, Kelvin had confessed to greatly missing their daughter, and they had wept together all night. This was their secret: to be brave before others, and then be themselves in their own chambers.

*********

The days in Halliard were long and filled with an odd mix of gloom, grief and gladness. The Funteyns had had months to prepare for this, and were more at ease with King Phillip's fate than many of the guests. King Silas and Queen Lily in particular cursed themselves for not visiting more often. Not all of the guests remained, but new ones arrived as old ones left, leading to something of a status quo to the number of guests. The Gildern party was a constant.

Each Funteyn had their own entourage most of the time. Anne in particular always had at least two women with her, excluding assistants. She struck Mara as the sort who always needed people around her. Anne had shown affection to her from their very first meeting, and was this way in general. After a time Mara noticed that Anne was more so towards her, and also to a Lady Felicia, whom Mara had met for the first time here in Halliard. After some meals, if not gathering all women around her, Anne and Felicia would wander off on their own. Mara was glad that she had such a close friend with which to share her grief.

The time came, close to a month after their arrival, that King Phillip passed. Cries of "The King is dead!" were followed immediately by "Long live the King!" for Rupert, whose crowning had also been prepared for. And so the Gilderners, and those who had returned to the castle, were present for the passing of the old King and the instatement of the new. A funeral procession followed by a coronation. It was the first time that Mara had witnessed such a passing of power. It was much quicker and smoother than she expected, but then, they had had plenty of time to prepare.

At the coronation reception, Kelvin and Mara approached their former peers arm and arm, and offered the appropriate greetings. Queen Anne stifled a giggle at her friend's deep curtsey. There was no time for talk while in the receiving line, so the Gilderners moved away quickly to allow others to pay homage to the new King and Queen.

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

At last the time came to go home. Political wrinkles with the new rulers had been ironed out, homage had been paid, and Gildern awaited them. As usual the men and women gathered in their own groups. Two Kings and a Prince spoke at length while two Queens and a Princess said their goodbyes.

Mara dipped low in farewell to the Funteyn women. The Queen Mother accepted it regally; Queen Anne needed work at keeping her nose higher. She smiled and held Mara's hand while speaking. "Your family's presence has been a blessing to us," she said. "Long may our alliance reign."

"Of course, your Majesty," said Mara.

Queen Anne scoffed and waved it off. "You must call me Anne," she said. "You know that." Mara smiled and gave a small shrug. Anne leaned in closer. "You know that I love you," she said. "Yes?"

"Uh..." said Mara, "That does please me. Thank you. And you must know that I love you."

Anne giggled and kept staring. Mara felt Kelvin's hand on her shoulder. "Darling?" he said. "Ah, your Majesties, it pains me to say that we must take our leave of you."

"We understand," said the Queen Mother. "Bless you all for being here in our time of need."

"You must visit us more often," said Anne, pointing their way.

"And we shall," said Kelvin, taking up her hand to kiss it. He led his wife away before she could do the same.

*******

A topic of conversation on the way back was the plan to return to Halliard with Isabel, once she was old enough to travel, to "present" her to the Funteyns. Mara had heard these rumblings before. She had read the laws of Gildern about it. Men had the right by law to accept or reject a prospective bride; women did not have a like right for prospective husbands. She had voiced her displeasure to Kelvin before, but of all people, he was unconvinced of the necessity of changing it. He, who had deliberately sought a bride of humble birth, was uninterested in allowing his own daughter the same choice. Therefore, as far as her family was concerned, Princess Isabel would marry Prince Phillip Rupert of Halliard, assuming his own family accepted her. Isabel's mother had to decide how far she would go to fight for her daughter to have a choice.

*******

Once the carriage passed through the gates of the castle, any irritation with the laws of the land was washed away by the sight of Isabel in Miss Daphne's arms. She ran to them in a most un-Princess-like manner, scooped Isabel into her own arms, and wept tears of joy as she kissed and kissed her little one. Miss Daphne assured her that she was "as good as gold, and better." Kelvin joined his wife soon enough to greet his daughter, and let her keep holding the child. The family was surrounded soon enough by Lords, Ladies, and other attendants - Solomon the majordomo, valets, handmaidens, and the like - who assisted their respective Lords and Ladies inside.

Mara looked inside the Great Hall as she passed by with Isabel in her arms. The King, Queen, and Kelvin were there, along with other Lords and Ladies. They would tend to the political necessities of their arrival. She noticed Count Richard, as well, but not Lucinda. Mara's presence was not immediately required, so she had a little time to speak with her assistants, who were strangely mum about any events of consequence.

She prepared to press further, when Kelvin was heard calling to her. He stood in the doorway of the Great Hall and beckoned her over. Miss Daphne reached out for Isabel, but Mara either did not see or ignored her. She was all smiles when she rejoined her husband.

"Darling, see how big she's gotten!" she said, then cooed to her daughter. "Ohhh, in a twinkling you'll be too big for us to carry! Yes, you will!"

"Mara," he said quietly. She turned his way and laughed, then slowly, her smile faded as his never came. He was so somber. She felt a chill. "Darling," he said, "Please hand her to the nanny and come with me."

"But we just got here," said Mara. "I don't ever want to let her go."

"Please?" He gestured to the room and waited. After some moments, she kissed Isabel on the forehead and handed her to Miss Daphne, then took Kelvin's offered arm to be led into the room.

He brought her to the family and the gathered Lords and Ladies. Some Ladies were dabbing at their eyes and sniffling. It was then that she realized that Count Richard was dressed all in black, with a dark expression to match. She could not help staring at him while Kelvin spoke.

"I am so sorry to relay this news to you," he said. "But... the Countess Lucinda. His dear wife and your good friend. Two days ago, she took her own life."

Apologies for the Pauper Prince hiatus!

It's unintentional.

There will be a Chapter 35, 36, 37, 38, or however many I need to wrap up the story!

Every time I think I'll be done in a chapter or two, I end up writing ten more, so I won't hazard a guess.

For those of you who've been reading this monstrously long memoir and still want to, many thanks!!

The Pauper Prince - Part 34

The Pauper Prince
Chapter 34

  Being with Isabel was comforting when she was sleeping, nursing, or wiggling her limbs around and gurgling, as babies will do. When she was inconsolable, it was a less comforting experience.
  The thick door and walls muffled the shrieks within, but Mara knew what was coming. She leaned against the wall, closed her eyes, took in a good breath, and opened the door. Miss Daphne was holding and gently bouncing the little Princess, trying to use soothing words and tones which were clearly not soothing enough. She could not hide her frazzled, frantic frustration and apologized loudly over the din. Mara did not respond, but took in the scene mutely before steeling her nerves and gently taking her daughter into her arms.
  For the next few minutes, Mara's efforts were no better. Isabel's tears would dry for no one. But in spite of the cries stinging her ears, Mara kept her cheek right next to her daughter's. She rubbed Isabel's back and spoke calmly, soothingly, and never gave in to her own frustration or tiredness. In this case her tiredness may have helped, for she lacked the energy to give in and scold the child... or worse.
  After a long time, a miracle occurred; Isabel's wails quieted to soft sobbing. Mara sighed in relief, then kissed Isabel's forehead and turned her attention to Miss Daphne.
  "Ah!" she sighed. "I think we might be able to hear again."
  The nanny mustered up a half-smile in response and attempted another apology. Mara ignored it and announced that she would take Isabel to her own room, and that Miss Daphne ought to take a well-earned break. When Mara left the room, it was unclear to her if Miss Daphne would actually do so, but was satisfied that she, at least, had been quite clear about it.


  Just at the moment of arriving at her parlor door, Mara was surprised by the Countess Yvette, who had been waiting patiently and politely for an unknown time. Her demeanor was demure - meek, even - but as far as Mara could tell through her haze of growing exhaustion, Yvette was there to inform her that she supported Mara's goal of improving the lot of women, but stopped short of offering any practical assistance. She also wanted Mara to know that she, the Princess, was brave and conscientious for taking such a risk and thinking of others, and that she would be an excellent Queen someday. All this and a demure, meek request to sit beside her during supper. Once Mara had a chance to speak, she thanked the Countess for her high praise and mumbled something noncommittal about the seating arrangement.
  Yvette paused as if deciding to reword her request, then smiled, dipped as well as her pregnant body allowed, turned to leave, and yelped.
  "Oh! Your Highness! You gave me such a start!" she said, fanning herself. Mara was not herself startled by her husband Kelvin's arrival.
  "My apologies, Countess," he said. "Am I interrupting you two?"
  "Oh, we were just finishing our talk," said Yvette. "We were making... light conversation only. I shan't impose any longer."
  She began to go around Kelvin, who stayed in place. "One moment, please," he said, and took up her hand to kiss it gently. He held it while speaking. "Yvette," he said quietly. "I just wanted to say that you're positively glowing these days. Your husband is a most fortunate man."
  "Th-thank you, your Highness," she said, looking down and blushing. "I shall tell him you said that." She scurried past him before her cheeks could burst into flame from more embarrassment.
  Kelvin watched her leave, then turned to get his own mild fright; Mara was standing much closer than he'd expected. Isabel fit quite snugly between them. He recovered immediately, and they shared a quick kiss, then decided together to indulge in several more, longer ones.
  "My two favorite girls," he said, smiling languidly before kissing Isabel's forehead. He took her from Mara's arms and carried her to a settee; his wife joined him right after. "So..." he said, placing Isabel face-up in his lap. He let his daughter grab at his hands and fingers while he spoke. "Yvette stopped by, did she?"
  "Yes, but not for long," said Mara. "I probably should have invited her in, but I was too tired. Am too tired. I think she just wanted to offer her verbal support for a new venture of mine. And to flatter me a lot. I think?"
  "That sounds like Yvette," he said. "Her parents spent most of her life trying to groom her as my docile bride, and forgot to allow her to have a personality."
  "Oh, that's not very kind," she said. "Unless she was just trying to curry favor with me? I hope not. But if she was, she must not know that that sort of thing doesn't work on me."
  "No doubt," he said. "And my jab was meant more for her parents than for her. I think somewhere along the line, they broke her spirit. The poor girl... On the other hand her husband, Count Francis, is a good man. I think that he genuinely cares for her. I think that he'll take good care of her."
  "Let us hope so," she said.
  "And she's supporting a 'new venture,' you say?" he said. "Would that be the one about overturning all our laws?"
  "Wh-? How did-?" she said, then groaned. "Mother Queen?" He nodded. "She exaggerates, Darling. Let me go on record as saying that there is no sedition on my mind. I was just... I was just throwing out some ideas at a tea party. You know, the usual 'lady' things."
  "Really? Ladies usually talk about overturning our laws?"
  "Uuuh! I am not! trying to-!"
  "I teeeease, I teeeease," he said, pulling her close and kissing her temple. "Mother said that you're dissatisfied with our laws as pertaining to women, and want to debate with us about them."
  She sighed loudly in relief. "So she did understand me."
  "She was a bit more dismissive about it than I just presented to you, but that's how I interpreted it."
  "And...?" said Mara.
  "And what?" said Kelvin.
  "Are you dismissive about it?" she said. "What I hope to do?"
  He looked down at Isabel and stroked her cheek. She grabbed at his hand and wrapped her fingers around his thumb. He relaxed his hand and let her move it around like her own little plaything. He kept his gaze on her while speaking.
  "Do your research," he said. "Make a plan. Present your case." Now he looked at Mara. "There's nothing to dismiss if you do that well enough. Just bear in mind that Father believes in our laws, and so do I."
  "I'm not trying to upend the kingdom," she said. "Just suggest improvements. Changes. Change isn't always bad, yes?"
  He smiled. "I think we're proof of that," he said. "Wouldn't you say?" She was momentarily puzzled, then blushed. "You could make the argument that you've already upended the kingdom. A commoner becomes royalty, hmmmm..."
  She scoffed. "People would know it's been upended if I could tell them I was a commoner. I can't even tell Heather the whole truth. I don't like it, you know."
  "I know, I know," he said, holding her close. "But look how long it took to convince my parents of the rightness of our marriage. Now imagine having to convince not just everyone in this kingdom, but every other kingdom, all at once."
  "Yeees, I know," she grumbled. "Trust me, I've said nothing that I'm not supposed to. Else war would begin, the skies would turn black, oceans would run red, cats and mice would live together. Chaos would reign over all."
  "We're mostly trying to avert war," he said. "But now you have me worried about the cats and mice."
  "Why do people even care," she grumbled. Then Kelvin's joke caught up with her, and in spite of her best efforts, she laughed. "Ahhh," she said. "Yes. Well. I still wonder what business it is of anyone's. Speaking of real royalty, I need to feed our little Princess." The royal seamstresses had made several dresses for Mara that opened in the front, allowing for much easier feedings. She made quick work of the fasteners and soon had her torso exposed. Kelvin gladly handed the little Princess to her mother, then removed his cloak and draped it over his wife's shoulders. He kept his arm around her as she took Isabel to her breast.
  "Don't think for a minute that you're not real royalty, too," he said.
  "Am I?" she said. "If we were to divorce, would I still be a Princess?"
  "Divorce?" he said. "You think there's a chance of that for us?"
  "I meant that as... as an 'if,' as an experiment, if you will," she said. "For argument's sake only: suddenly we're no longer married. What would I be?"
  "Inconsolable, I should hope."
  "Please take this seriously."
  "I am," he said. "Very well, if-- that happened, officially, no, you would no longer be a Princess. But you're still a Countess in your own right. And you're Isabel's mother. You would be well taken care of. Darling, is this something you-?"
  "I'm not asking for my own sake," said Mara. "Of course, I absolutely do not want to lose what I have, but if, somehow, I did... Well, you know where I was. If there was nothing for me here, I could scratch out a living like I had before."
  "Ah. I see," he said. "This is about your friend, Countess Lucinda. Is it?"
  "Possibly," said Mara, then eyed him warily. "Is there something I should know?"
  Kelvin looked away in discomfort. He rubbed his chin, then resigned himself to it. "Count Richard has asked permission to divorce her."
  Mara's eyes unexpectedly grew moist, and her throat tightened. She had known what he was about to say, but actually hearing the words was not the same experience. "It's true, then," she whispered. "She told me of his intentions earlier. I wish I could help her. She's so miserable."
  "As is he," said Kelvin. "We're considering his request. We have to. He claims that she's barren and unfaithful."
  "What was that?" said Mara, straightening up. "He said unfaithful?"
  "Yes," said Kelvin. "When you spoke to her, did she confess to it?"
  "No," said Mara. "She... She insisted to me that she's blameless, and accused him of it." She groaned and covered her face with a free hand. "I don't know what to do for her anymore. As her friend I should take her side, and yet... Perhaps I'm not really her friend." Her voice began wavering. "I spoke harshly to her, Kelvin. Not even an hour ago, I called her cruel, and implied that her woes are her own doing. What sort of friend says such things?"
  "Sometimes it's the truest friend who has to say such things," he said.
  "Stop that," she said. "It doesn't make me feel better. It's not right that she lets her envy and anger rule her, but being without child is not her fault. I didn't blame her for that, but I should have... been more kind, I think."
  Kelvin sighed. "In fairness, those two can be as twins sometimes. I think they both prick and jab at each other, and always have. Richard is known for his sharp tongue and biting words."
  "Hm," said Mara, and was lost in thought. She wiped at the tears on her face. "Did Richard claim faithfulness on his part?"
  Kelvin thought a moment, then shook his head. "I don't recall him saying as such."
  "Perhaps his saying nothing says more than he thinks, then," she said. "Darling, is his request going to be granted on his word alone? Will Lucinda's voice be heard... and listened to?"
  "I don't see why not," he said. "Planning to be her lawyer, are you?"
  "This is not a time for jesting," she said. "I just want her to be treated fairly. So many of our laws, especially about marriage, are not fair. Not for women!"
  "Now, let's both just... step back a moment from this," said Kelvin. "I want what's fair for them, too. Richard has made his request, and that's all we have for the moment. Nothing's in court yet. And honestly? It's been on my mind all day now, and I don't want to hear any more of it until tomorrow. Right now I just want you, not the politics of the day."
  Mara had no answer. For one, she agreed with him about letting the matter rest for the moment. She burped and switched Isabel with practiced ease, and spent more silent time watching her. Kelvin rested his chin on her shoulder and joined in. After a few minutes she felt his lips caressing her neck and shoulder. This rarely failed to melt away her cares and woes. She closed her eyes, allowed a smile, and craned her neck.
  "Kelvin," she whispered.
  "Mm-hm."
  "You're right about one thing: I would be inconsolable."
  His only reply was to keep kissing her. She did not need his words.


  Neither Lucinda nor Yvette sat beside Mara at supper. That privilege went to a young Duchess who enjoyed talking about her horses and other animal companions. Rather undramatic conversation, which suited Mara just fine. Something for her to smile and nod politely to and not actually speak about. She was too tired for anything else.

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

  Heather returned to work both invigorated and tired. In between the customary activities for newlyweds was ongoing preparation of their new home. Unpacking, repairing, modifying... all of the things that were needed to make their quarters a true home. Mara had gone out of her way to leave Heather be, even if it meant nothing else but a smile and a wave from a distance when their paths neared.
  Once the heartfelt reunion and rapid-fire recounting of all things newlywed had finished, Heather let her Lady get a word in edgewise, and was surprised by the new task - no, mission - before them both. Researching and compiling every law on the books having to do with women? That was quite a departure from the usual of keeping her Lady's affairs in order. She wasn't certain yet if it was a welcome departure. It sounded a bit.. tedious.
  This made Heather's next bit of news perhaps more ironic than she had intended. Suddenly her smiles disappeared, and she was somber. "Leonard doesn't think I should work for you anymore," she said. "That is, not work at all. Except as his wife. I understand why he would want such a thing," said Heather, "But..."
  When her words faded away, Mara started to reply, but Heather turned out to be unfinished. She fingered the edges of the law books nearest her while speaking. "You know, perhaps it's just as well that we'll be reading through these laws. Maybe there's one that says... that I don't have to leave you."
  "Did Leonard give you a reason for what he said?"
  "Just that... as my husband, he should be able to support us both," said Heather. "And... even if I stayed with you now, once I have a child, I would have to leave, anyway. To raise any and all of our children. He said that, I-I may as well leave now. To keep house and-- be his wife."
  "What do you want to do?" asked Mara.
  Heather sighed. "I see no reason to leave you before it's time," she said. "And even if I have a child... Even then, I... m'Lady... Would it be selfish and wicked of me to want to stay with you, even then?"
  Both women were quiet now. Mara was as determined as ever to begin their mission, but before her eyes, here was a bit of gray in what she'd seen as black and white.
  "I... I don't think you'd be selfish or wicked," she said quietly. "I'm hardly one to judge, with a nanny and other women available and willing to nurse Isabel when I cannot. Other women here don't have those opportunities."
  "Mmm, but they do," said Heather. "The other mothers here, they help each other with their children. I think they have meals together and other things, too. Ophelia is part of it, I'm sure."
  "What? How did I not know this?"
  "I don't know," said Heather. "Don't the Ladies of the court do the same thing?"
  "No," said Mara. "I mean, some have children, and we talk about them, but then they return home and... Those other women are here on the grounds. Hm. I wonder if they wouldn't mind... Do you think they'd be open to my joining them?"
  Heather stared at her Lady a moment. "Is that a serious question?"
  "Why do you ask that? Oh. That means 'no,' doesn't it?'"
  "It means 'yes!' said Heather. "They'd be thrilled that our Princess would join their group!"
  "You don't know that," said Mara. "They could just as much... not want me joining for the same reason. But really, I'm just a mother, like them. I hope that-- I'll ask Ophelia. But-but we've been side-tracked. We must return to you and your marriage. I'm concerned, Heather; you've barely exchanged vows, and there already seems to be trouble? Is that so?"
  Heather considered her answer, then sighed again. "I don't know," she said, then perked up suddenly. "Ah! You could tell him that you're not allowing me to leave! That you need me as your assistant, and that's that!"
  "Well, of course I do, but-- No," said Mara. "No, Heather, this cannot be resolved that way. You two must-"
  "What do you mean?" said Heather. "Of course you can do that!"
  "I can. do. that," said Mara. "I know. I'm trying to say that it would be far better for you two to try to resolve it on your own. To work out a... ah, what's the word...? compromise. Yes, a compromise, where you work out something that benefits you both. You two are married now, and are husband and wife, and are a couple. Partners. Partners must resolve their difficulties. If I stepped in and took that from you, there could be... strife from it. Bitterness. I don't want to be the cause of that."
  Another silence fell between the two women. Mara took a book and began leafing through it idly. Heather let out a long, loud sigh and slumped back in her seat, folding her arms. She pursed her lips several times.
  "Are you upset with me?" asked Mara. Heather mumbled a reply that Mara did not understand. "A little louder, dear," she said.
  "I'm not, m'Lady," said Heather. "I understand what you're trying to do. Last night was the first that we talked about it, and then this morning he 'reminded' me as I was preparing to come here. I was... it all surprised me so, I didn't say much in reply. Before we were married, he didn't seem to care at all about who had the higher rank. It was his parents who seemed to mind. But now..."
  "Higher rank," echoed Mara. "Yes, you... having the 'higher' one. Officially."
  "Yes," said Heather, nodding. "And then suddenly he wants me to abandon that? When he went on about being the man and me just being a wife, I reminded him that my work is more important than his."
  "Ohhh, no, you didn't say that," groaned Mara.
  "But it's true!"
  "It--" said Mara, then covered her face and sighed. "Ahhh, Heather. Dear Heather. You don't-- Ahhhh. Don't say such things to your man. To your husband."
  "Why not?" she said. "He's the one who began it with his 'I am the man, I will support us both now.' Telling me that his work is more important, yes?"
  "Look, it sounds like both of you are... approaching this the wrong way."
  "Why won't you just tell him that you need me and that I can't stop being your assistant?"
  "Heather, please stop putting this on me," said Mara. "Look, I'm hardly a-a seasoned veteran of many years of marriage, but I do know that you two must discuss this, and work out a compromise. To start, stop telling him that you're better than he is."
  "I didn't say better, I said that my rank is higher. And who'll tell him to stop telling me to quit my work?"
  "But that's what you two need to discuss."
  "What if the law is on his side?" said Heather, roughly flipping open one of the books. "Hm? What if every law we find says 'The husband can order the wife to do whatever he wants?' What then?"
  "...Then we need to find that out," said Mara quietly. "And try to change that. But... even so, if you two truly love each other, the law only goes so far. As Prince - never mind my husband- Kelvin could, according to the law, do anything to me, I regret to say. But he doesn't. He won't."
  "He could."
  "Yes," said Mara. "He could. But he is a good man, and I don't know Leonard as well as you do, but he seems to be a good man. And seems to love you. Is he? Does he?"
  Heather was quiet in thought, and then slowly nodded. "Yes," she whispered. "He is. And does."
  "Then you two must talk about this," said Mara. "You must find a way to...to be partners, not rivals."
  "All right," said Heather. "But when we talk... Do you think you could be there with us?"
  "Still you try to put this on me?"
  "No, I meant as... a mediator?" said Heather. "To help us talk? Not to order us. You could make sure we don't argue."
  "I don't know," said Mara. "I couldn't stop you and Miss Daphne from hurling insults at each other. It was Isabel who ended that argument. Perhaps she could be your mediator."
  Heather smiled and chuckled. "Yes, the louder her cries, the less we'd argue. Oh, but in seriousness, my Lady, we both respect you. And... I want us to work it out. I don't want us to argue. Last night I..." Her voice wavered. "I think I wept myself to sleep, just thinking about having to leave my work. You know that I love working for you, don't you?"
  Mara smiled warmly. "I love having you," she said. "It was my pleasure to give you that time to yourselves after the wedding, but I did miss you. Not just as an assistant, but your companionship."
  "Will you be there while we talk?" asked Heather. "Ma'am? My Lady? Your Highness? Most Royal Princess of-?"
  "Yes!" said Mara, now chuckling. "Yes, I will see if I can mediate for you. I make no promises, though. I'm... just as new at this as you, remember."
  Heather threw herself at her Lady for a tight embrace. "Ohhh, thank you so much, my Lady! IloveyouIloveyou!"
  Mara allowed the fawning for a few seconds, then peeled her off and straightened up. "Hm!" she said. "Yes, well-- On to business, assistant! Let's begin our research."
  Heather's face was one big grin. "At once, my Lady."

The Pauper Prince - Part 33

The Pauper Prince
Chapter 33

  Mara's assistants did, after a time, reach a state of mutual tolerance. It was rather unlikely that they would ever become friends, but she was accepting of this. The two women stood apart in far too many ways and had been brought together artificially. There was otherwise no reason for them to associate with each other. As long as Heather understood that she did not need to fight to retain her Lady's affection, and that Daphne understood that she was not one misstep away from the gallows, everyone could get on with their lives. Especially Mara.

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

  Heather's and Leonard's wedding finally took place, performed in the castle's chapel and attended by their collected family and friends - plus some special guest members of royalty. Other than Mara, who couldn't wait to attend, she had managed to convince Kelvin and his parents. More accurately, Kelvin had convinced his parents, who initially declined on the basis that "everyone would expect an appearance." An idea with which Mara quite agreed. After convincing them to attend, Kelvin's next challenge was convincing them not to make the ceremony about themselves. The least conspicuous clothing they had were their traveling clothes, which were still elaborate enough to beat a peasant's finest. They would have to do.
  The ceremony had been delayed first because of the war, and second so Heather could attend to her Lady to the end of her pregnancy. Now only cold feet threatened the wedding, but it happened, nonetheless, and beautifully so. Mara had been asked to be an attendant, but she gently declined being anything but a spectator, realizing that any other role in the ceremony would have drawn more attention away from the couple.
  The question of what sort of gift to give the new couple had been a perplexing one for a while. Mara thought about having a dress made for Heather, but that wouldn't include her husband. Kelvin thought of commissioning a fine sword of a higher-grade steel and workmanship than was typical for a guard, but again, only one side was being taken care of. Then Mara remembered their biggest challenge: where to live. Heather had always been sharing a room with three other girls, and Leonard, the barracks with the other unmarried guards. Space was premium on the castle grounds, and Mara's in-laws would not relinquish any of the guest rooms meant for the high-born. The couple could have moved to Allcourt and walked to the castle each day, but Mara was determined to resolve this situation.
  After a bit of scoping, aided immeasurably by Solomon, a storage room along the castle's outer wall was found. The contents could, with some creative distribution amongst the remaining storage rooms and some reworking, serve as living quarters for a young couple. Solomon promised to oversee the operation, which he did to great success. And so the Princess and Prince were able to present their gift to the new couple: private quarters, sparsely furnished by donations from family and friends. Heather was ecstatic to near-catatonia; Leonard was also speechless at first, then managed to thank their Highnesses on his and his new wife's behalf.
  Heather had been granted seven days off to enjoy her time with her new husband. This left Kelvin in the position of asking the new Captain of the Guard for the same deal for Leonard. Again, more grumblings were voiced about "everyone" expecting the same deal, but there was nothing to be done about it. The Princess could set the rules for her assistants, and seven days off after a marriage was one of them. Heather's colleagues filled in for her time off capably enough, but could never be her replacement.
  During her assistant's absence Mara visited Adrienne, as well as Francine, who had been compensated monetarily for her excellent assistance, if not with a title like Adrienne's. Miss Daphne was with her as always, bearing a bag of supplies for Isabel while Mara carried the child herself. The visit was, of course, to the midwives' delight, who could now spend time with the little Princess they had helped birth.
  Mara's timing was also good. The Royal Midwife proudly showed the written and illustrated record of her technique, ready to be copied and distributed throughout the kingdom, per the Princess' instruction. Adrienne's main concern was that this would be seen by others as a miracle that would not fail, when any reasonable person should be able to work out that success was never a guarantee. Not even for the Princess, if it happened again. Mara had already considered and accepted that possibiliy on her own. If it was ever the only way for her child to live, she would welcome the knife.
  Mara also revisited Ophelia, whose son Nathaniel seemed twice as large as she'd remembered. Much fuss and adoration then befell Isabel, not to mention the fuss and adoration over the two mothers holding each other's child. After making her farewells, but before leaving, Mara turned to the family and pretended to pout. She looked at Ophelia's younger sister, Cordelia. "What's this?" she said. "No farewell hug for me?" Cordelia, after getting silent permission from her mother, grinned and rushed forward to copy her previous embrace. She was not scolded for it this time.
  It was with this visit and others throughout the castle grounds, over time, that the "peasants" surreptitiously viewed the little Princess as closely as any of the nobility had. In some cases, closer, for some were allowed to hold her. If the Queen discovered Mara's actions, she did not make it known.

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

  Countess Lucinda had replied so far to Mara's invitations with explanations of her busy-ness. Finally Mara threw up her hands about it and was preparing to make her own trip to visit, when the Queen caught wind of the plan and insisted that she remain at home, not traveling with an infant. Mara was perplexed by this and required a description from Miss Daphne of the tediousness of such travel, not to mention the potential danger to fragile royal infants in rickety carriages - even for brief trips of two hours. Also, the Queen had to point out that the Countess had been committing a most grievous faux pas by not responding to her Princess' requests. Mara learned that she was supposed to have been greatly offended by this, and promised the Queen to be properly indignant next time.
  Without having been sent any further invitations, Lucinda did accompany her husband, Count Richard, during his most recent visit to Gildern's court. He had never been a stranger there; it was his wife who had become a rarer sight. Mara greeted her as warmly as could be before they all dined with the Queen, joined by various other Ladies of the court. Countess Yvette was among them this time and now 20% more with child than ever. She also showed the Princess a little more warmth than in their previous encounters. For Lucinda, she showed just as much as before.
  As Ladies would do, much of the conversation was about their husbands, children - arrived or on their way - hobbies, and pet projects. Mara took the opportunity to bring up what she hoped to become a project: that of cultivating her five acres of land to somehow benefit others. Whom? wondered some. Herself! joked another, and recommended a summer home. Or winter home. Or one of each. Mara took an informal poll of the women to see if they favored a school, a hospital, or some sort of sanctuary - each for women.
  After a pause, most of the women had to stifle snickers and giggles. Fanning themselves helped cover any impudent smirks. Lucinda joked that, if Mara built a sanctuary, she the Countess would be its first occupant. Mara was not amused; her silence as she regarded them all was her way of containing the unladylike words that she wished to unleash upon them all. The Queen was astute enough to recognize the coming storm, and tried to play off Mara's queer interests and change the subject. Without missing a beat, the rest of the Ladies resumed discussing their usual topics. Mara maintained her silence and nibbled absently at whatever food was in her hand at the time.
  During a break in the others' conversation to nibble at their own meals, she was emboldened to speak again. "You know," said Mara, setting down her food and straightening the lap of her gown, "I find it interesting that we are all women, and yet so many don't have an interest in assisting women."
  "What's that now?" asked a Duchess.
  "Mm... Perhaps my goal is too far-reaching," said Mara, "But I was hoping that my thoughts of places that might benefit women would be appealing to those gathered. Rather than amusing. That's all."
  Some of the women traded perplexed looks, but the Duchess remembered and pointed. "Ahhh," she said, "You mean the school for women? Is that what you meant?"
  "Or hospital, or sanctuary, or... something that would benefit us," said Mara. "They're merely suggestions. I have land. I don't have much money of my own, but I'll have more over time. Because of this, I can't help but wonder if I should be doing something with it. Something for us. For the kingdom."
  "Mara," said the Queen gently. "Daughter. Raising my granddaughter, a Princess and future Queen, is 'doing something' for the kingdom."
  Mara contained her sigh at the last moment. "Mother Queen, I acknowledge and embrace that responsibility. But these thoughts are not new for me. Of course we live in a 'man's world,' but what is a world without change? There are schools and universities aplenty, but none for women. Why is that?"
  "-said the girl with private teachers," said the Queen.
  "I refer to opportunities for other women besides ones of privilege."
  The Duchess smirked. "Even the universities you speak of are for men of privilege," she said. "Peasants do not venture inside."
  "Then that should change, too." Mara finally let herself sigh. "Still, it needn't be a school," she said. "Doing something for us isn't a new thought for me, but.... how to do so is. If I cannot build a school, or a hospital, or even a... a sanctuary or shelter for wives and their children, fleeing the abuses of terrible husbands... then... perhaps unequal laws may be changed."
  The Queen's eyes narrowed. "You speak of changing our laws now," she said warily. "Does our King know of this plan? Does your husband?"
  "I would use words, Mother Queen," said Mara. "Words only, to persuade, if I can."
  "Persuade whom?"
  "Wh-Our King, of course," she said. "You. Our Prince."
  "I see," said the Queen. "And what sort of 'unequal' laws did you have in mind?"
  Mara had kept all her attention on the Queen, and then realized that all eyes were on her now. She looked around the room of spectators and cleared her throat quietly. "I, uh..." she said, fidgeting with her wedding ring, "I will compile a master list with all haste, but there are laws about things such as... inheritance. They are based on sex rather than, say, order of birth. Or even an equitable split amongst all heirs. Laws about punishments for crimes. About marriage. About the wages of labor for men and women. They, too, are inequitable. A woman doing the same work as a man will always receive less."
  "What sort of work is a man doing that a woman also does?" asked another Duchess.
  "Oh..." said Mara, and shrugged. "Many things, your Grace. Surely you've seen women plying a trade in smithing, or carpentry, or any number of skills that one might assume are only for men?"
  The women pondered this. Some shook their heads.
  "It is true," said the Queen. "Our own blacksmith's wife and daughter do assist him in his work."
  "Ah, but do they do his work, Ma'am?" said a Duchess. "If he were away, could they swing his hammer all day? Make a large shield or a cart's wheel? Or... the carpentry you mention. Could a woman lift the heavy wood and tools all day for making furniture? I say no. We do not have the strength for it."
  "You'd be surprised how strong a woman can be," said Mara. "How much stamina one could have. Doing the work all day that would tire a man. Why... why, some women have even taken up a sword and done the work of a soldier. And lived!"
  This brought cackles and titters from the other Ladies, but not the Queen, nor, Mara finally noticed, Yvette. It then dawned on her that Yvette had not laughed or even smirked once at the absurd ideas she'd been putting before these women.
  "Oh!" said a viscountess, fanning herself. "Your Highness, such wit!"
  "I daresay I wouldn't want to meet the woman who prefers a sword of steel to the 'sword' of a man!" said the first Duchess, eliciting loud guffaws now.
  A fist was slammed - hard - on the table, rattling some of the dishes. "LADIES!" bellowed the Queen. In an instant, the room was silent and full of wide-eyed women. "What's all this snorting?? At a Royal Princess? At your future Queen??"
  "Y-y-your Majesty," Lucinda dared to say. "W-w-we are laughing with her, not at her." Without taking her eyes off the Queen, she grabbed Mara's hand and all but petted it. "We love her, of course. And her jests."
  "Really?" said the Queen. "Mara, are they jests? And are they laughing 'with' you?"
  "I..." she said, having trouble meeting the Queen's - or anyone's - gaze. "No, they were not jests. I meant every word. But then," she added quickly, "I should be able to, uh... to handle a bit of fun at my expense. Ladies, I don't mind your laughter. I realize that my ideas are strange."
  "That is no excuse for mockery," said the Queen. "Right, Ladies?" With that, the Ladies fell over each other in offering apologies, which only served to redden the Princess' face. After the contriteness and forgiveness quieted down, Mara smiled awkwardly at them all and grabbed a handful of her favorite comfort food: mixed nuts. Suddenly she chuckled.
  "Actually, Duchess," she said, "Your quip about different 'swords' was rather amusing."
  "Why, thank you, my Lady!"
  "Of course," said Mara, trying not to giggle, "These days I prefer my man's 'sword.'"
  A stunned silence fell on the room, only erupting into mirthful chaos after Mara smiled and winked at them. Then she hoped that none of them would pick up the clue she'd dropped about her previous occupation.

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

  Mara led a squad of women to the nursery to placate their eagerness to see her little Princess. She shushed them in the hallway and entered quietly alone. Miss Daphne was seated by the window and was knitting while Isabel slept in her crib. They exchanged whispers about the feasibility of all the women viewing her at once, as long as everyone tiptoed and whispered. Miss Daphne saw no danger in this, and suddenly the nursery was full of admiring women quietly cooing to each other and Isabel. The little Princess suddenly waved her arms a little, as if reacting to something in a dream, leading to several squeals of delight from the gathered Ladies.
  Mara sensed that, the longer they stayed, the louder and more careless they might become, so she gently ushered them outside, then lingered over Isabel's crib a few more moments. She inquired about Miss Daphne's knitting project and was told it was "nothing of importance," so Mara all but backed out of the room in order to lengthen her time watching Isabel.
  The gathered Ladies were amenable to a stroll around the castle grounds, except for Lucinda, who explained that she was quite fatigued and wished to rest in her guest room. Mara thought it best to call off the walk, but Lucinda insisted that she would be joining them for dinner that night.

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

  After the Ladies had had enough of walking and talking, they split off into pairs or trios and tended to other business. Mara politely declined joining any such group, preferring instead to make as much time for her daughter as possible. They would all see each other later that evening. But before visiting the nursery, she stopped by Lucinda's room and knocked gently. She was a little bit surprised that Lucinda opened the door herself rather than any of her assistants. Lucinda's expression was glum until she recognized her visitor, then instantly became something approximating gladness. She opened the door wide enough for Mara to enter, who stepped inside and embraced her warmly.
  "Pardon my intrusion," said Mara. "I hope I didn't cause you to lose rest?"
  "No," said Lucinda tiredly. "I haven't really been resting."
  "Are you unwell?" said Mara, trying to feel her friend's forehead. Lucinda pulled away. "Sorry. I just wanted to check on you."
  "I appreciate that. Thank you."
    During the uncomfortable silence that followed, Mara fidgeted a little, then made herself clasp her hands in front. "Well," she said quietly, "I pray that it's nothing to be concerned about. Lucinda..."
  "Yes?" she said after Mara's words dropped away.
  "I just wanted you to know that I'm glad to see you again," said Mara. "I missed you. That's all. You were... quite busy, which is perfectly understandable. I do hope that things have settled lately?"
  "I'm fine, dear," said Lucinda. "Thank you for asking."
  "If you're feeling unwell now," said Mara, "You're welcome to visit our physician, Sir William. I'm not-- fond of visiting him, but he is learned and competent."
  Lucinda forced a smile. "That won't be needed. Come suppertime, you'll see me in full spirits once again."
  "That's good to know," said Mara. "We have much catching up to do. You'll be here at least overnight, yes?" Lucinda nodded. "And I understand that you're not unwell, but... if you'll pardon me, I can't escape the feeling that something is troubling you."
  Lucinda made a frustrated grunt and threw up her hands. "I said, I'm fine!"
  Mara's eyes widened in surprise; Lucinda's, in fear as she realized her faux pas. She snatched up Mara's hand and kissed it repeatedly.
  "Your Highness," she said. "I am so sorry. I-I spoke out of turn... out of line... I-"
  Mara yanked way her hand. "Stop that. I'm here as your friend, not some royal personage."
  "I still spoke out of line."
  Mara shrugged. "Well-- Yes, but that tells me that something is troubling you. What is it? Please talk to me, Lucinda. I want to help, if I can."
  Lucinda's eyes began tearing up, but she fought them back and stood tall. She took Mara's hand one more time and kissed it slowly and gently. Unseen by her, Mara rolled her eyes. Then Lucinda stood straight and wiped away a wayward tear. "You've always been a good friend to me," she said. "Yet somehow, you're probably the last to know this. You never did develop an ear for gossip or rumor." She led Mara to the settee and waited for the Princess to sit before she did. She spent some more time gathering her courage.
  "I'll be plain," she said. "Richard means to divorce me."
  Mara gasped. "No! How can that be? What reason could he have?"
  Lucinda shrugged. "It... should be obvious."
  "Oh, Lucinda," said Mara. "Not... infidelity?" she said in a whisper, as if there were anyone else nearby.
  "What? No!" she snapped. "I've been as faithful as a hound to that man. But Richard: the same could not be said of him. There's scarcely a woman at home that he's left untouched. Even my own handmaidens!"
  "Oh, no! Constance and Lorraine?"
  "Those disloyal strumpets?" said Lucinda. "Yes, them. If I could have had them executed, I would have. The worst I could do was dismiss them."
  "Do you know where they are now?"
  "What do I care where they are?" said Lucinda. She stood and began pacing. "They are betrayers! But that's not his reason for threatening divorce."
  "It seems that you have just cause to divorce him," said Mara, then grumbled, "If our laws worked that way for women."
  Lucinda scoffed. "Exactly," she said. "Then what could the reason be?"
  "You don't know it?"
  "Of course I know it," said Lucinda, and watched Mara as if waiting for an answer. Mara responded with a shrug. Lucinda held out her hands. "Look at me," she said. "Over two years of marriage, and I have nothing to show for it!"
  Mara was confused a few moments, then showed comprehension. "Children?" she said. "He's... Is this about not yet having children?"
  Lucinda stopped pacing. She made several attempts to speak, then could only look away and weep. Mara stood and held out her arms. Lucinda made feeble attempts to push her away, but Mara would have none of it. She pulled Lucinda into a long embrace and ended it with a kiss to her cheek. Then she took her hand and led her back to the settee.
  "You're right," said Lucinda after sitting. "Over two years and no children. I am... barren, Mara."
  "Nooo," said Mara. "He must have more patience. Two years isn't that long. There could be any number of reasons for this. Do you have a midwife?"
  "Yes. Not that she's been of any help."
  "Then I urge you to consult with Adrienne, our Royal Midwife," said Mara. "She has great skill and knowledge. If she can't help you, I don't know who could."
  "You're too kind."
  "And Richard is too impatient," said Mara. "And... and disloyal, to boot! That just infuriates me! And yet again, the law is far too lenient about such things for men and too stringent for women. Humiliating you like that, and then has the gall to threaten divorce?"
  "Mara-"
  "And what of his mistresses?" she said. "He blames you for lack of children, but have any of those other women borne him a child?"
  Lucinda thought a moment, then sighed and shook her head. "Not that I know of."
  "Well, then!" said Mara. "I'll wager that... that he is the one who's 'barren.' Hm? Bedded so many women, and none have been fruitful? That doesn't point to you for suspicion!"
  Lucinda sighed again. "Mara, I appreciate that you're trying to cheer me up, but be reasonable. It doesn't matter if it's really his fault for there being no children. The man is never to blame. You know that."
  "Blame should be... where it should be!"
  "Well, it isn't," said Lucinda. "Not here, not now. And... truthfully, I have moments of relief at the thought of being free of him, but then I remember that it would destroy me. I can scarcely look at him most days, yet... if the marriage ends, it would be the end of me."
  "Oh, no, please, don't say such things," said Mara, squeezing her friend's hand. "I can understand you seeing things as bleak now, but you must take heart. Do your parents know about this? They have the right to intervene on your behalf. At least that law favors us! And even our King and Queen should be willing to speak with your husband. Talk him into showing more patience? Please don't lose hope, Lucinda."
  Lucinda yanked her hand away and stood again to resume her pacing, this time angrily. "Nngh!" she cried. "What do you know of hopelessness?? Your life is perfect!! A royal Princess, fated to be Queen, whose royal husband and whose royal in-laws all love you!! Everyone does! And your child was probably conceived right on your wedding night! And now I look upon that mouse, Countess Yvette, barely out of her wedding dress and with her own child on its way! Two years, Mara! Where is mine?" She hit her own thighs on each word. "Where- is- mine?!?"
  "What is this?" hissed Mara, ignoring her friend's tears. "You try to make an enemy of me? As if I'm to blame for this?? I am trying to help you!!"
  "There is no help for me," moaned Lucinda. "Do you-- d'you even comprehend my fate? Do you? Perhaps I shouldn't blame you for that. It's a secret, but a poorly-kept one. Mara, did you know that I'm not high-born?"
  "No," said Mara. "And please explain why that means anything."
  "It means..." she said, "It means that my title comes from him alone. I am either a Countess by our marriage, or I am nothing. My parents have wealth, and I am with Richard only because he did not. Our union was purchased, and... if it's gone, then I lose everything."
  "That does not make you nothing," said Mara. "You just said that your parents have wealth, so you didn't grow up poor, correct? And surely they would welcome you home, should the worst happen?"
  "I've been told... no," said Lucinda. "I am the oldest. My dowry was... very large. The rest will be for my sisters. There will be no other dowries for me. And even if there were, what would it matter? They'd never forgive me for failing in only two years. And I'd be 'used' and known as barren! What man would want me?"
  "I don't know," said Mara. "A man with children already? A widower?"
  "A stepmother?" she sniffed. "For someone else's brats?"
  Lucinda realized her poor choice of words the instant before Mara shot up into a full standing position and loomed over the Countess. She was already a head taller than Lucinda, now more so given Lucinda's shrinking back.
  "I misspoke, I misspoke," she said. Mara did not reply, preferring to stare. She had an unexpectedly passive expression. Lucinda had no way of knowing the depth of her anger, other than from her two clenched fists.
  "My Lady?"
  "Be plain with me," said Mara. Even her tone was even. This was somehow worse than obvious anger. "Were you truly too busy to visit? Or just unable to bear the sight of my 'brat?'"
  "No, no, that's not it at all!" said Lucinda, and then let her gaze drift downward.
  "Look at me!" Mara growled. Lucinda snapped to attention and tried to speak, but could not form any real words. "And enough sniveling!" At least she could hear the anger now. "Am I your enemy for daring to have a child, or not?"
  "No!" she said, erupting into loud weeping. Mara was unmoved this time. "Envy made me say those things! I have been a slave to it! I-I-I see... I see any woman, not just you, not just Yvette, but any woman with child, or... or with good, loving husbands... friends... and I lose myself, Mara. I think... why them and not me? Why them and-?"
  "Stop it," said Mara. She closed her eyes and sighed. "It pains me to say this. It truly does. But too much of this misery is your own. Lucinda, I love you. I want all happiness for you, and I don't make light of these things - a poor marriage, trouble conceiving - but you bring too much on yourself!"
  "How could I possibly be doing that?"
  "You are--" Mara took in a breath for courage. "You are cruel, Lucinda!"
  The Countess gasped. "How... How dare-!"
  "There! I have said it!" said Mara. "You-- You take sport in belittling others. From the time we met, I have seen this in you. You almost struck my assistant and friend; don't deny that! You tricked me into mocking a women I'd never met! You spew venom on your own assistants - sorry, former assistants, and-and-and... on everyone you know! I have seen it! I have heard it! Is there no one spared of your contempt? No one who's spared of your jabs and pokes and gibes and gossip and rumor? Am I?"
  "Of course! I would never-!"
  "Really?" said Mara. "You're angry with me for having a so-called 'perfect' life, remember?"
  "I misspoke," she whispered. "That's not what I meant. Please believe me."
  "Then what did you mean?"
  Mara realized that she was mere inches from the Countess' face, breathing down her neck, and took a step back to give her room. If it helped, it was difficult to say, for Lucinda was still unable to come up with a reply.
  "Tch. It doesn't matter, then," said Mara, turning away to make for the door.
  "Wait!" Lucinda called out. Mara paused and only turned back halfway. "My Lady," she said, grabbing Mara's hand again to kiss it.
  Mara yanked it back again. "Stop that. I'm not here for your fealty."
  "It's all I have left to give," said Lucinda.
 Mara covered her face with her hands. "Ahhh!" she cried, and relaxed her grip. "I'd prefer your friendship."
  Lucinda spoke softly. "I think you're my only friend right now."
  "Am I?"
  Lucinda looked up, her brow knitted in worry. "Aren't you?"
  "Am I?" she said again. "Think before you answer."
  The Countess did just that. She thought, longer and far more deeply than she had thought of most things. Mara sensed this, and said nothing while waiting. Lucinda then took a deep breath. "I think that you are," she said quietly. "But I have not been your friend. Even today, I laughed at you. Just like the others. I joined with them rather than stand by you. I don't blame you if you're angry with us all. With me. I've not been a friend at all."
  Mara seemed lost in thought to the point of being oblivious to her surroundings. Lucinda wondered if she'd been heard, and prepared to repeat herself.
  "Not lately," Mara said finally. "But we have been friends before. Look: you have good reason to worry about your fate, and believe it or not, I still do want to help, but nothing good will come of this if you accept none of it, and think only the worst of everything. The worst of everyone. Do you understand me?"
  "I think so," she said, nodding.
  "Well... I hope that you know so, soon." Mara fidgeted a bit, then threw up her hands. "I can't dawdle anymore. I was on my way to something else, and stopped by - briefly - to see how you're doing."
  "And I delayed you terribly," said Lucinda. "I am sorry."
  "Just... try to find a way to help yourself," said Mara. "I don't know what it would be, but I want something good to come from this."
  "It will," she said. "I swear it. You're my only friend, Mara. And I almost threw even that away."
  "Hm," said Mara, folding her arms. "My life isn't 'perfect,' you know. But I'm grateful for all of it. My good fortune could change just as easily, too. I don't want it to, but it could happen. I have lived, and survived, very difficult circumstances. Someday I may be able to tell you of them."
  "I know that you have... scars, because of your father," said Lucinda.
  "Yes," said Mara, and a distant look overcame her until she managed to shake it off. "Um," she said, "I'll see you tonight, yes?" Mara held out her arms for a farewell hug. Lucinda just looked at her uncertainly, so Mara pulled her into an embrace - again - and traded kisses. Then she made her way to the door.
  "Mara?" Lucinda called after her. Mara paused at the door. "Do you think I could still... have my seat beside you?" When Mara just stared in response, she waved her hands nervously. "Never mind. Never mind. I will sit wherever I'm told to."
  Mara shut the door without another word. She took a moment to lean against the wall and fight back her own tears this time. A minute later, she'd managed to reduce her eyes to a moist redness at worst. The thought of spending some relaxing time with her daughter added a smile.