The Pauper Prince - Part 26

The Pauper Prince
Chapter 26

  The two Princesses and their respective attendants were taking a final stroll through the garden. Heather, like the other handmaidens, stayed a few paces behind, and while out of sight of her Lady, she was free to appear as glum as she felt. The Princesses chatted and murmured and giggled to one another like the firm friends they had become. Heather was not paying any attention to their words and trod behind them obediently. Then she was stopped by an outstretched hand near her face. She looked up to see her Lady looking back, smiling to her and wiggling her fingers to beckon her forward. Heather stepped up and stood beside her, and Mara wrapped her arms around her in a brief hug, then rubbed her arm while speaking to Anne.
  "I'm not sure if you heard the news," said Mara, "But dear Heather here is recently betrothed to a delightful young man. I'm so happy for them both."
  "Oh," said Anne, peering her way. "Well, congratulations, then."
  "Thank you, your Highness," said Heather flatly. Only she seemed to hear tittering behind them from the other handmaidens. Mara kept her arm around her.
  "The best part is that they chose each other," she said. "Their parents agreed, but still, their marriage will be-"
  "My Lady, please don't," Heather whispered. Mara stopped and looked at her with some concern. Then she heard giggling behind them and someone whisper "Princess Heather!" in between more stifled giggling. She looked back at Anne's three handmaidens, who managed to restrain themselves after some effort. She stared at them as they fidgeted. Heather glanced down long enough to see that her Lady had unconsciously made a fist of one of her hands. Finally, Anne stepped up.
  "Is there a problem?" she asked Mara, who finally looked away from them.
  "Forgive me," she said. "I was only curious if their laughter was about what we were discussing, or something else."
  "I see," said Anne, nodding. "Well, girls? What caused the laughter?"
  More fidgeting, then one of them cleared her throat. "Nothing, your Highness."
  " 'Nothing,' " said Anne. "That's an odd thing to find amusing."
  "We meant-- nothing that would be of any interest to you, your Highness," she said meekly. "Just us being silly girls."
  Anne nodded. "Yes, well, we all need to be silly girls sometimes. Carry on, then." She slipped her arm into Mara's. "Come; let me show you the pond before you leave. We have the most amazing fish in there. So big and colorful! You won't believe them. Come!"
  "Oh, of course," said Mara, glancing back at the handmaidens, then Heather. She mouthed the words 'Are you all right?' to her friend, who tightened her mouth but nodded quickly.
  Before they could make it to their last stop, they heard the King and Queen calling to them from behind.  The party stopped, turned, and made appropriate dips as the King and Queen approached arm-in-arm.
  "Hello, dear Anne," said King Phillip, leaning in to kiss her cheek. "How is my favorite daughter-in-law?" This was his private joke for her, given that she was their only daughter-in-law.
  "Well as always, sire," she said, smiling.
  "Enjoying the fresh air with your girls, are you?"
  "Of course, sire," she said. "But also-"
  "Philip, remember that not all are handmaidens," said the Queen.
  "What's that?"
  Anne took Mara's arm again. "You remember our guest, of course," she said. "Princess Mara from Gildern?"
  "Ah, yes, Gildern," he said. "How is old Silas these days? And Lily?"
  "Very well, your Majesty," said Mara. "Thank you for asking."
  "Married Prince Robert, then, have you?" he said. "Where is he, anyway? With Rupert?"
  "Ah..."
  "He's going to make a fine King some day," he said. "A fine King."
  Mara was at a loss for words, and looked to Anne and the Queen.
  The Queen spoke, patting his arm. "Phillip, she has married his brother, Kelvin. Robert will not be King. I'll explain that later."
  "What's that now?"
  "We will speak of Gildern later," said the Queen. "Mara, we hope that you have enjoyed your stay in Halliard. It's a shame you'll be leaving soon."
  "I know," she said. "It's been so delightful here. Your hospitality has been boundless."
  "You mustn't be a stranger to us," said the Queen. "And please do let us know when the baby comes."
  "Oh, absolutely!" said Mara. "And Anne has given me so much advice, too. It's... It's all so terrifying, but in an exciting way. If that makes sense."
  "It does," said the Queen, nodding and smiling. It was a kind, dignified smile, but it and her eyes betrayed a deep sadness. All of this family did, even Anne, for their King, father and husband was disappearing more and more before their eyes. Mara looked his way, and he noticed this and met her gaze, smiled and nodded pleasantly, and then his eyes seemed to glaze over again. It was possible that Rupert really did have an old injury that kept him from fighting in Gimsley, but it was more likely that he was needed to remain here and, more and more each day, run the kingdom.

  Once the carriage was underway, Heather let out a big sigh and stared idly out the window. Her knitting work was out but untouched. Mara had found her place in her book and started reading, then noticed her friend's inaction. She put a marker in the book and kept it in her lap.
  "You seem sad," she said. "From leaving new friends, or something else?"
  "I'm not sad," said Heather sadly. "Just tired."
  "Ah. I am, too, a little. And you must miss Leonard terribly."
  "Yes."
  A long silence followed. Mara reached for her book, then paused. "Well, if there's something on your mind, you know I'm always willing to listen."
  Heather nodded, but said nothing, so Mara picked up her book and pulled out the marker.
  "They made fun of me," she said. Mara paused again, put the marker back and the book down, then clasped her hands together. "Or..." said Heather. "You know, it's not important. I need to be more thick-skinned, is all. I wasn't really one of them, and... they were probably just tired of me prattling on about my wedding. Please; don't let me keep you from your reading."
  Mara did not pick up her book again, but kept her hands clasped together and stared at the empty seat next to Heather.
  "They called me 'Princess Heather,' " she said. "It's ridiculous, really. I was only trying to... I was only using your marriage as an example of marrying for love, and described mine the same way and-- Suddenly they acted like I was comparing mine to yours and-- They started calling me and Leonard names and-- Mara, I wasn't trying to tell them I'm like a Princess, I was just--" Her voice broke, and she stopped talking. Mara moved to the empty spot beside her and put an arm around her.
  "Perhaps I was bragging," said Heather, her voice wavering. "I don't think I was, but they must have taken it that way. I wasn't trying to elevate myself, but once they got started, they just kept going and going. It went beyond a misunderstanding and into full mockery."
  Mara said nothing, but moved her hand to her friend's back and rubbed it gently.
  "Forgive me; I shouldn't be troubling you with this," said Heather. "You-- you have your own concerns. Your husband away at war. A baby to worry about."
  "Heather," she said, not looking at her but making her voice clear, "I want you to 'trouble' me with your concerns, any time you need to. Those other servants were fools. Jealous fools."
  "You're too kind, my Lady," said Heather. "But maybe I was bragging. I don't know."
  "It doesn't matter," said Mara. "You're marrying the man you love. You're entitled to a bit of crowing. You do love Leonard, yes?"
  "...Yes," said Heather. "Yes, I very much do."
  "And Leonard loves you?"
  "I should hope so," she said, forcing a laugh. "That is: yes. I'm certain he does."
  "Then is there anything else that matters?"
  "Oh," she said with a shrug, "All sorts of things matter. Money, and shelter, and... community standing. You know."
  "Do the opinions of small-minded servants matter?"
  She shrugged. "Maybe..."
  Mara rolled her eyes. "Do they matter?"
  "No!" Heather cried, startling herself. She straightened up, then stared ahead in thought for a few moments. "No, they don't," she said in a normal voice. Mara put an arm around her again, then pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head.
  "That's the spirit," she said. "And I thought I'd heard one of them mutter 'Princess Heather.' If I'd known then what I know now..."
  Heather forced a laugh. "Even so, you... you looked like you wanted to punch those girls," she said.
  "I did not."
  "You did," she said. "My Lady. You'd even made a fist."
  "I had?" said Mara, staring at her hand. "I should be more careful about that. I think if I had known about their mocking..." She became lost in thought, then shook her head. "No, it was likely for the best. I might have committed an act of war or something."
  "Not on my account, surely."
  "On your account?" she said. "Surely. Which is why it's good that I didn't--" She fidgeted a bit, then moved back to her old seat. "I do have a temper to work on, to be sure," she said.
  "You've never directed it at me," said Heather.
  "No, but you've seen it before."
  Heather nodded. "I have," she said. "But you've always... You've always looked after me. Supported me. I'm very grateful that you're my mistress."
  Mara smiled, then picked up her book again. "Do you think of me as a friend, also?"
  Heather became pensive. She stared out the window again for half a minute before looking back at her Lady. "Officially," she said, "I should not. But I do, anyway."
  Mara smiled again, opened her book and removed the marker.
  "You're very unusual," said Heather. "You know that?" Mara stared. "I-I hope you know I don't mean that disrespectfully. I meant... just how you are. Compared to other... to your peers."
  "Oh," said Mara, nodding. Then an impish smile, and finally a laugh, made themselves known. "You have no idea."

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

  Shortly after their return to Gildern, and getting settling in, and able to relax and bathe and have a meal, Mara asked the Queen about the possibility of finding a nanny, nurse and wet nurse for her and the coming baby. The Queen nodded vaguely about this and agreed to all of them, but clearly had something else on her mind. Once Mara had ended the recapping of her time in Halliard to the Queen, and any other assembled Ladies, the Queen took her by the arm and led the Princess to her and the King's private conference room.
  "Have a seat," she said, gesturing to two empty chairs beside a window. "We have much to discuss."

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

  Four months later, cries of laughter, tears, triumphant songs and music filled the courtyard as guards and soldiers returned from Gimsley. The news had arrived ahead of them; Breech had been beaten back and forced into surrender. Gimsley, Gildern, and their allies were victorious. There were costs, to be sure, but paying them was part of war and the defense of their lands.
  Mara stood again with the royal family and their attendants as the soldiers streamed in, tired, some being carried in, most making their own way, but all with a slight air of victory on their faces. Family members intercepted most, and hugged, kissed, fawned, then walked them back to their homes. Any soldiers that lived outside the castle grounds and in the towns had already returned to their homes. The only ones returning now were residents of the castle.
  She and the others watched as the apparent last of the soldiers trickled in and went their separate ways. They traded concerned looks; no one had said a word about Kelvin not returning home. It was just when the King was calling over one of the soldiers to ask, that Kelvin was seen at the gates, leading his tired horse through the courtyard. Mara and the Queen unknowingly made the same gesture of gasping, clasping their hands together and putting them up to their chin, plus a single tear rolling down their cheek.
  In the distance a servant ran up and led the Prince's horse away so he could finish his walk unburdened. He  looked about, then quickened his pace when he recognized his family. It was all Mara could do to keep from bursting into a full run, but she had learned many lessons by now about dignity and proper behavior towards her husband.
  As before, Kelvin went to his father first and embraced him wordlessly. Then his mother, who wept openly and jumbled out disconnected words of greeting, concerns about his weight, gratitude for his return, and more until he kissed her hands and shook them gently. Finally he stood before his dear wife, who was now.. huge. He began by holding her hands and locking gazes with her, now seeing nothing but love in them, unlike before, but could not help drifting his gaze down to... that... belly. Like a sofa cushion had been folded in half and shoved under her dress. He wondered if the baby might come out right then and there.
  He did not hear, but Mara heard the Queen quietly clear her throat. She glanced over, and the Queen nodded. Mara swallowed, then squeezed his hands.
  "My Lord," she said, "There is no greater cause for happiness, than the sight of you."
  She smiled and waited breathlessly for his reply. He suppressed a suspicious look, wondering if she might be having fun by waxing poetic, but her words seemed to be in earnest. It was just that her smile was so... vacant.
  "Likewise," he said finally, with the slightest lilt of a question to it. His gaze drifted back to that... belly...
  "Son," said his father, yanking him from his reverie. "Forgive the interruption, but I know that we were victorious. And yet... how many were lost? Do you know?"
  Kelvin alternated looks between Mara and his father. He kissed her hand with great reverence, placed his hand briefly on her belly, then murmured a quiet apology before leaving her side. She stayed where she was quietly as the Queen watched her.
  "Three hundred seventy-eight of our own," said Kelvin.
  The King sighed and let his eyes close. "And what of the other...? You know what, I will find the accounts from someone else. You should go in and rest. Do you need Sir William?"
  "No, Father," he said. "But there are those who do need him. Please see that they receive our best care."
  The King looked around the courtyard. "Is Seamus with him?"
  Kelvin tightened his mouth and looked away, shaking his head.
  "No..." said the King.
  "He, uh," said Kelvin. "He died as he always lived, sire. Serving his King and his Country. He saved my life, countless times."
  "Not Seamus!" said the Queen.
  Mara said nothing, but looked around the courtyard for his family. She spotted what she thought might be his wife and children, and possibly other relatives, but they were too far away to tell for certain. Their actions were definitely those of grief, though. Many embraces and wailing, but too far to be heard.
  "-a hero's funeral," she heard the King say. "All of them. All of our fallen soldiers. Heroes of the realm, to a man."
  "Of course, sire."
  "Kelvin," said the Queen, her eyes moist, "Let us handle these affairs. Go inside. Go. Rest. Bathe. Eat. Whatever you need right now. You will not be disturbed; we can assure you of that."
  "Thank you, Mother," he said, speaking to her but looking at Mara. "I know what I need right now." He held out a hand to her. "Come, Darling."
  He walked towards the castle, and she followed, but was several paces behind him. He looked over to speak to her, then back after realizing that she was behind him. He stopped, and so did she. He started again, and only then did she walk, still staying behind him. He stopped and held out a hand.
  "I am sorry, Darling," he said. "I didn't realize how difficult it must be for you to keep pace. You know, with the baby."
  "What?" she said. "Er, no, my Lord, I can keep pace. It's just that-"
  He took a large step backwards and locked arms with her before she could react. She glanced at him, back at the Queen, then to him again. He flashed a broad smile and patted her arm.
  "You set our speed, Darling," he said, and waited for her to make the first steps. With one last glance back to the Queen, she led him inside as quickly as she was able.

  They ran a gauntlet of well-wishers on the way back to their bedchambers. There were no words along the way between themselves, only a quiet basking in each other's presence. After reaching the room, Kelvin let go of her arm and shut the door behind them. She clasped her hands together in front of her and waited quietly. Their privacy assured, he stopped before her and repeated his earlier greeting of holding her hands and staring into her eyes. Before she gave in to her desires and rushed into his arms, he then held her face and leaned in -- farther than he'd expected -- to kiss her. He leaned in again, then stopped and looked down at that... belly...
  "Let's try this," he said, and moved around to her side and embraced her at an angle. There was no barrier between them this time, and he kissed her several times, then paused for more eye-gazing, but she could stand it no longer, and pushed her lips hard onto his. Several minutes of impassioned kissing passed before they fell into their usual stance of forehead-to-forehead, both breathing heavily, both breathing in sync.
  "My Lord," she whispered, "Can you ever forgive me? For... for being such a poor wife?"
  "Shhhhh..."
  "You needed my love when you left," she said, "And I had nothing but foolish, selfish pride. Please forgive me."
  He broke away from their stance, and put a finger to her mouth.
  "My Lord?"
  "Sh!"
  Without another word, Kelvin looked down and started pulling and tugging at her skirt. Mara did not understand what he was doing, and opened her mouth to speak, but he did not seem to want her to, so she was patient. Finally he dropped slowly to one knee and placed a hand on her belly. He looked to the side, kept his hand there and for all purposes seemed deep in concentration. Then without warning he took the bottom of her dress, pulled it up and over himself, and disappeared beneath it. She gasped quietly in confusion, then felt him pressing his ear against her belly. She froze, standing almost stock-still. She tried to hold her breath and could not, but kept it as quiet as possible. He wasn't really-?
  He climbed out from under her dress, stood, took her hands, and leaned in for another kiss. "I heard its heart beating," he said.
  "The baby's, my Lord?" she said. He nodded. "Are you certain it wasn't mine?"
  He did not answer, but bent down enough to press his ear against her chest. He listened for a bit, then straightened up and shook his head slowly.
  "The baby's," he said.
  Mara pondered this a moment, then smiled. "I-I wish I could," she said. "To be sure, I have felt it-- kicking, but to hear its heart, or perhaps its breathing..."
  "Kicking, you say?" he said, putting his hand there again.
  She shrugged. "It comes and goes. Perhaps it's dreaming about something exciting."
  He said nothing, but just smiled and kept looking at her eyes. She fidgeted a bit, then clasped her hands around his. "My Lord," she said, "Is there anything that you wish for me to do for you?"
  He was so quiet around her. It was not like him. She wondered if he had seen - or done - things during the war that had stolen his eloquence. She had seen worse things happen to men. She thought of amending her question and asking about-
  "What I wish for you to do," he said finally, "Is to stop calling me that."
  "My Lord?"
  "Exactly," he said.
  "But... But it's proper."
  "I know it is," he said. "From any other wife I might have had, perhaps. But from you it sounds... wrong."
  "But I-I should be..." she said. "It is proper..."
  "Mara, we met as equals," he said. "We lived as equals. We fell in love as equals. If I am your 'lord,' then you are my 'lady.' But that's not how we are. What happened while I was away?"
  "I... learned how I should be," she said. "How to be a good wife."
  "Who was it?" he said. "Father? Mother?"
  "I don't know what you mean," she said. "My Lord."
  "...I see," he said. "Of course without me here, it makes sense they would try something like that. But that they did, at all, is a... betrayal of the highest order. And I won't stand for it."
  "My Lord, please, I don't want any trouble with them-" she said, then put her hands to her mouth. He pulled them away gently as she shook her head, and kissed them one after the other. "No, no, no, please," she said. "They-- She meant well. She just wants me to be a good wife."
  "You are a good wife," he said. "You have been from the start. But apparently they - or she, if you mean my mother - thought differently all this time. Blessing our marriage, but then doing this? Twisting you into... their vision of a 'good wife?' Her vision?"
  "My Lord-"
  "Fear not," he said, clasping her hands. "I won't say anything to them right now. But believe me, I will have words with them."
  Her lips quivered. "Darling," she said. "I respect her. I admire her. I even... love her. But she was relentless. She was... I didn't know what to do. What could I do?"
  "Don't worry," he said. "They're my parents. They'll be spoken to with love. But... shall we say, in no uncertain terms, regarding their conduct towards you henceforth. Of course they 'meant' well. And you mustn't blame yourself for anything they said, or did. They are King and Queen, after all. They are your sovereigns. It's not as if you could openly disobey them."
  "At first I tried to tell her she was wrong," she said. "That you didn't want someone like this. But it didn't help."
  "I know," he said. She still had a look of terrible concern on her face. He stroked her cheek, then smiled. "I just thought of what I 'wish' for you to do for me."
  She perked up, and he left her side to rummage through his satchel that a servant had brought in already. After tossing out a few items, he carefully pulled out a folded piece of paper and showed it to her. She saw the name "Kelvin" on the outside, written in her own hand, and recognized it that way. He carefully unfolded it and handed it to her.
  "You did get this," she said. "I'm so glad. It's, um, it's a little bit soiled, but I see that you received my letter."
  "I want you to read it to me."
  She furrowed her brow. "You didn't-? You never read it?"
  "I did," he said. "And I 'heard' your voice as I did, but now I can hear it for real, without imagining. Please; may I hear it from you?"
  She stared at it, studying the words to make sure they were still legible. There was a smudge here and there, but nothing that had destroyed any letters. "Um," she said, "As you wish, my L--" Her tongue caught on the "L" sound. She pinched her eyes together and sighed. "Kelvin."
  She held up the letter and cleared her throat several times.
  "My most darling Kelvin," she began, glancing to him and back before continuing, "I have pondered my words endlessly, and I know I shall never capture what I truly feel, but I shall do my best, for you deserve nothing but my best effort. I have been a mere shadow of a bride for you, a wife and companion unworthy of you, and I pray that these words will serve as the start of my slow journey back into your good graces, if you will have me. You face your duty with conviction and bravery and the fullness of your heart, and I had met mine with foolish pride and cowardice. But it is all past now; I face my duty now with the same conviction and clarity as you did from the start. I still wish for nothing more than to be by your side, but for your sake and not my own. If my presence be a boon and not a hindrance, if it be a comfort and not a worry, if it lighten your burden, bring salve to your wounds, and bring a song to your heart, I would be by your side. But only then. And the child within me - your child, our child - I pledge myself to caring for and protecting with all my body and all my heart and all my soul. You have shown me that it's possible to know happiness. You have shown me how to love, how to laugh, how to touch and feel for the first time, and I will never go back, now that I know how to live. You chose me as your own, and I am forever grateful for it. If I could be but a portion of the companion to you as you have been to me, then few could say they have accomplished half as much. I have no other words, my dearest one, other than that I love you, I am proud of you, and I pledge to the end of my days my devotion to you. Forever and always-" She lowered the letter and looked him in the eyes.
  "-Your wife, Mara."
  After a very, very long pause, he slowly reached out for the letter, which she handed to him. He touched the words for a moment, then folded it back up and held it.
  "Did you write this before or after they 'taught' you to be a good wife?" he asked.
  She thought for a moment, and then: "Before."
  He nodded. "Then they were your words alone," he said. "Not theirs or anyone else's. Good. I read this at least once every day. Each morning for certain. Sometimes after a particularly long, or grueling, battle, I would read it. Besides devotion to King and Country, it gave me reason to keep going. You thought it was your sword that represented you, but this-" He held it up. "This, is you. This was your favor."
  She turned bright red and looked down. "I was just trying to... to make up for my poor behavior, and to offer you some comfort. While out on the battlefield. I know what they can be like."
  "There were some things I didn't agree with."
  "...Oh?"
  "You are not a 'shadow of a bride,' nor 'unworthy.' When I reread your letter, I would skip that part."
  Mara glanced down, then up. "I-I wrote what I felt then," she said. "I'm very glad that you didn't agree. But... I did not feel worthy then."
  "You always have been," he said. "So there was a misstep. There was one other thing I did not agree with. You chose me. Not the other way around."
  "Well of course you did," she said. "You had all those suitors. All those women that were presented to you. But-- you chose me. Over them. You did that."
  "I suppose you're right," he said. "But you forget that you had your own suitor." She looked puzzled. "Erick had proposed to you. It took you a whole day to think about it? But you chose me over him."
  "Well, yes, but..." she said, and shrugged. "We... chose each other, then?"
  He smiled and nodded in agreement, then put the letter onto the bed, stepped towards her, took her hand, and dropped to one knee. He leaned forward and pressed her hand against his forehead. She tugged gently, but he would not let go. "What are you doing?" she said.
  "My Lady," he said, looking up to meet her eyes, "I would ask, what you wish for me to do for you?"
  "Ahhh, I want you to get up," she said, waving her hands awkwardly. "I 'wish' for you to stand up." He complied, but stared at her as if waiting for more. "From you," she said, "It sounds... wrong."
  "That it does," he said. "But my question remains. Put aside what you've been told that you should want. What you think I want. Think only of yourself. Your desires. What do you want?"
  "That," she said, "That you have returned, and are safe, and-and healthy, and-- unharmed. That you're here, and the baby is healthy and-"
  He held out his hands. "And so I am, and so is the baby."
  "Well, then," she said, forcing a smile. "I have what I want."
  "And that's it?" he said. She started to reply, then shrugged. "We haven't seen each other in months," he said. "I could tell you what's been on my mind all this time. Thinking what we'd do when we finally reunite."
  "What, then?"
  He shook his head and folded his arms. "What- do you- wish?"
  After some minor shrugs and more fidgeting, "... I think that I might want the same thing that you want," she said, then glanced at her belly and rested her hand there. "But this is so big now and-- It does seem like it will be in the way. Or perhaps not. I think we could... See, we could probably... You know, I even practiced a little bit, and... it's definitely..." She stopped, seemed deep in thought, then nodded. "Yes, it ought to work. It should work. Except.... um, Darling? Would it bother you if I were on top this time?"
  She looked at him with an expression of the utmost concern, and he was puzzled for a moment, until something clicked. His lips spread slowly into a big grin. She yelped as he yanked her towards the bed, and then giggled.

The Pauper Prince - Part 25

The Pauper Prince
Chapter 25

  Before Princess Anne returned home, she offered an open invitation to her peer to visit her home in the kingdom of Halliard "anytime." The Queen accepted immediately on Mara's behalf, and even set the time for her of a month's hence. The trip would be four days by carriage, and as always, with an armed escort. Mara hoped to impress upon the King and Queen that a less obvious way of traveling would reduce her chances of being attacked, but they were unmoved. No incognito travel and certainly without protection. No longer a commoner, indeed.
  And before the Queen had begun retraining her as a "gift" to the Prince, Mara received news that Ophelia's child had been born, so she decided to make good on her offer to visit. Heather knew Ophelia and was perhaps even more excited to see the newborn. Ophelia and her family lived above the coopers' workshop, where her husband plied his trade.
  They brought a soft, warm blanket and a basket of assorted foods: mostly bread, cheese and fruit. Ophelia's mother answered the door and was quite taken aback that the Princess had come calling, but recovered quickly and ushered them both in with some fanfare for the sake of the other occupants. Like many of the castle workers' abodes it was one room, but cleverly partitioned either by tall furniture, curtains or makeshift walls. There was enough furniture to accommodate multiple people and yet somehow did not seem crowded.
  Ophelia, her younger sister and a friend were sitting by the light to work on their latest sewing project. After a brief moment of shock, Ophelia and the other women hastily put aside their work and stood and dipped and fawned. Mara tried to calm everyone down, then gave up and let the excitement die out on its own. Her even younger brother, who appeared between 6 and 8 years of age, just stared at the "really tall lady" bringing gifts and saying hello to everyone.
  Then Ophelia proudly retrieved her newborn son from his cradle. Heather's face lit up at the sight of the child, and her smile was almost as big as her friend's. Mara was too busy being surprised by how very small a newborn is. She had seen babies before, of course, but from a distance and had never really lingered on them. Until now.
  "My little boy," said Ophelia quietly, smiling and nodding. "My little Nathaniel. After his father." She brought the infant closer and stood between them, but held him closer to Mara. "Do you see, Nathaniel? Our Princess has come here, just to see you!"
  "Oh..." said Mara, blushing. "Well... We came to see all of you, really, Heather and I. We just wanted to see how all of you are. See how you and- Nathaniel - are doing."
  Ophelia's mother sent her younger daughter downstairs to fetch Ophelia's husband. The girl protested mildly, preferring to hobnob with royalty, but was scolded into obedience. Mara inwardly cringed, but the scolding was not harsh enough for her to consider intervening.
  Meanwhile, Heather could stand it no longer and begged to hold the child, which the beaming new mother was glad to oblige. Clearly Heather had experience in handling babies, for she held him correctly straight away and as if she were born to it. She turned so that her Lady could see his face full-on.
  His eyes were closed, so Mara thought he might be asleep, but his face was still so active. His brow twitched, his nostrils flared, his cheeks scrunched, his lips tightened and quivered, and all sorts of movement occurred. In spite of not knowing what was proper behavior when viewing babies, she became lost in thought just watching him. Was he having vivid dreams? Would he remember any of them years later? Could infants form full thoughts, but just could not speak them yet? Did-?
  "He brings hope to our family," she heard the mother say. The others murmured in agreement.
  "Hope?" said Mara, tearing away from her thoughts.
  The mother nodded. "Little Nathaniel is the first born in our family since the dark days." The plague, Mara thought. Ophelia went to her mother and put an arm around her.
  "You lost loved ones," said Mara.
  The mother nodded again and took a deep breath. "My husband," she said. Ophelia leaned closer to her. "My eldest son."
  "Auntie," added Ophelia. Her mother tightened her mouth.
  "I've... I was told that everyone lost someone back then," said Mara. "I hope you'll accept my condolences."
  "Yes, of course," said the mother. "Thank you. And you bring hope to your family."
  "Mine?" she asked uncertainly.
  "With your child," said the mother. "Our Prince and Princess were also lost in the dark days. And now here you are, with His Highness, restoring hope to your family. And by extension, the whole kingdom."
  Mara felt her face warming into another blush. She fidgeted and cleared her throat. More people making her child more important than others. "Ahhhh," she said. "Every child brings hope to the kingdom. Nathaniel, as well."
  Ophelia smiled sadly. "That's very kind of you to say so, your Highness."
  "But it's true," said Mara.
  "My Lady," said Heather, "Do you wish to hold him? Oh, I am sorry, Ophelia. Would it bother you if Her Highness held him?"
  "Oh!" said Ophelia, clasping her hands together in delight. "That would be-! Here, allow me..." She went to Heather and took back her child, then held him out to Mara, who took a step back and almost held up her hands in protest, but resorted to more fidgeting instead.
  "Now, now, wait," said Mara. "I've never-- I don't want to hurt him."
  "Of course you won't, your Highness," said Ophelia, smiling and continuing to push him towards her.
  "It'll be good practice for you," said Heather with an impish grin.
  Mara "hmph"ed at her, then apprehensively took the child from Ophelia, and was more than willing to be shown how to hold him without dropping, crushing, twisting or suffocating him. Satisfied that her child was, more or less, safe in the Princess' arms, Ophelia took a step back and tried to stifle a delighted giggle.
  "Well done, my Lady," said Heather.
  "Surely this is not the first time you've held a babe?" said the mother.
  "Uh..." said Mara, glancing at him to make sure he was still alive. He was so light. "Yes?"
  As if Ophelia needed a reason to be even more proud. Just then the younger daughter returned with her brother-in-law, whose eyes went wide at the sight of a royal Princess cradling his newborn son. Ophelia rushed to him and dragged him over to make introductions. He was too flustered to remember about greeting etiquette, or coherent conversation, for that matter. Mara, wishing to cause no more fuss, congratulated them both and then all others present before handing the boy back to his mother and thanking them for allowing the visit.
  In the flurry of final farewells and offers of gratitude, Ophelia's young sister rushed forward to hug Mara. Before the Princess could reciprocate, the girl was pulled away by her mother, and another scolding ensued. The mother offered the explanation to their visitors that the girl hugs "everyone," and promised to break her of the habit, in spite of Mara's insistence that it was very endearing and that no correction was needed - especially not the violent kind.
  The young boy then announced loudly that he would never hug a girl, and folded his arms defiantly. Another unruly child to embarrass the family! Mara, amused, knelt down and beckoned him forward. After some hesitation and an urging from his irritated mother, he complied.
  "Far be it from me to predict if you'll ever hug a girl," she said, "But your mother is correct about your little nephew. You know that you're his uncle, yes?" The boy nodded. "He brings hope to your family, and to the kingdom. That means that you have a duty to help your family look after him. To help keep him safe, and strong, and healthy. Can you do that? Can you perform that duty?"
  The boy seemed to give it serious thought. Finally he nodded. "Yes, I can," he said.
  His mother corrected, "'Yes I can'... your Highness."
  Mara stood up and waved it off. "His duty is more important," she said, winking. Then a solemnity overcame her. "Duty is the most important thing for us all, isn't it?" She offered a smile, but the room was oddly quiet. She and Heather took advantage of this and left without further ado.

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

  Mara thought it best to leave Heather behind while she traveled to the kingdom of Halliard. She assumed her friend would welcome the break from her duties, and more importantly, could find more time to spend with Leonard and to further their wedding plans. Unfortunately the King and Queen, especially the Queen, disagreed, and took the opportunity to remind the Princess that the servants should not be left to their own idle ways. That and the girl's parents were handling the wedding preparations. Mara was quite apologetic to her friend while explaining the situation. Heather insisted that all was well; Mara tried to determine if she was bothered by this, but could not.
  Because the ride would take four days and three nights, she assumed that they would make stops as needed at taverns along the way or, in lieu of any nearby towns or villages, set up camp. That's what she had had to do when traveling, after all. It never occurred to her that they would be staying at the large manor homes and castles of local lords and ladies. So that's how rich people traveled! She had seen such homes from a distance in the old days but never had dared to bang on the doors and ask for shelter. That sort didn't offer shelter to the rabble, or if any of them did, she never found out. But for royal travelers, the doors were open, and she was treated... well, like royalty. Still, Mara opted to stay in whatever accommodations were offered to her companions, as opposed to slumbering on feather mattresses while they made beds in, at worst, the stables with their horses or, at best, common sleeping rooms for servants. Since no self-respecting host of royalty would dare house such a guest in less than their best, this led to everyone sharing spacious guest rooms each night.
  Mara brought plenty of reading materials, and thought she might be able to practice writing, too, but the carriage was too rough to allow for it. Heather passed the time with embroidery and knitting. As long as Mara was buried in her reading, the two women did not talk, but when they did, Heather couldn't help imagining aloud how her wedding, and subsequent married life, would be. After a couple of hours of that, Mara offered her friend some books. None of them contained romantic poetry or adventure tales, though, so Heather politely declined and returned to speculating about the nature of her nuptials. Some days of their journey seemed much longer than others.

  At Castle Halliard, Mara was welcomed by Prince Rupert and Princess Anne like an old friend. She introduced Mara and her fellow travelers to King Phillip and Queen Genevieve, also known as Prince Rupert's parents. Halliard was also an ally of Gimsley, and had sent troops in aid, but the Prince was not leading them. He had suffered some sort of leg injury from years before that kept him out of battle. Halliard's troops would be led by the highest-ranking man on the battlefield, who could very well have been Kelvin.
  After securing accommodations for all, the travelers were treated to a fine meal and offered baths or whatever else they needed. It was just before the royals' meal that Anne's three young children appeared. This was something of a surprise to Mara, for the Princess had never mentioned children before, not even when discussing her own child-to-be. Two attendants brought them out for the royal family to greet and fawn over for a while, especially the infant, who appeared to be just shy of a year. Mara was brought over to be introduced.
  "My oldest," said Anne, bringing him forward, "Phillip Rupert. Heir to the throne after Rupert. And then Thomas Rupert, after my father Thomas. And we mustn't forget Baby Elizabeth Genevieve Anne. After my mother Elizabeth and of course our own Queen Genevieve."
  "They're all such lovely children," said Mara, smiling. "They'll be joining us, then?"
  "Oh, no," said Anne. "They've already eaten and now have either playtime or studying. Which is it, Nanny?"
  "My Lady," said the nanny with a nod, "Study for Phillip, play for Thomas."
  "Very good," said Anne. "Has Elizabeth been fed?" She let a finger rest on the baby's mouth. Little Elizabeth attempted to suckle it. "Where is the wet nurse?"
  "Nearby, your Highness," said the other attendant, who was holding the baby.
  "Do make sure she's fed soon," said Anne. As if understanding the words, Elizabeth began crying. "Oh, see? I was right! Go, go tend to her immediately!" She dismissed the women with waves of her hand as they dipped to all and herded the children from the room.
  After there was quiet again, Anne sighed and then returned to hostess duties, leading Mara to the seat beside her. Heather had already been ushered away to dine with the other servants. Normally Mara would have requested that she join them, but decided that others might enjoy hearing about her upcoming wedding day.
  Typical banquet seating, where nobody faced anyone and all were seated according to status. She never did understand its purpose. Once all were seated, Mara suddenly became interesting to the others.
  "Tell me," said the King as a servant tucked in a bib for him, "How is old Silas? And his lovely wife Lily, of course."
  "Oh, both are well, your Majesty," said Mara, and found herself fending off a servant trying to tuck in her own bib. She thanked him while taking it away and placing it where she wanted, which was not with his hands down her dress. "Ahh, they're hale and hearty."
  Prince Rupert leaned in to look past his parents and address their guest. "And please accept our congratulations on your coming child," he said. Mara blushed and instinctively laid a hand on her belly. "Your first, is it?"
  "Yes," she said. "The first for me, and for the family since... a while, I'm told."
  "Yes," said Anne. "Since they were lost."
  "Well, may you and your family be blessed with many more," he said.
  Mara looked down and rubbed the bump. "Thank you," she said quietly. "I hope so, too. We hope so."
  "And Kelvin?" he said. "Is he still at Gimsley? Have you heard from him?"
  "Ahhh," she said, looking down. "No. No, I have not." Anne smiled sadly and patted her hand. "I would love to send word to him," Mara continued. "In a letter, perhaps. But-"
  "We could send a messenger under a flag of truce," said the King.
  "Oh," she said, "I-I wouldn't want someone going all that way just for something of mine."
  "We're going to be sending supplies tomorrow," said Rupert. "You could-"
  "Tomorrow?" said the King. "I didn't order that."
  "We discussed it this morning, Father," said Rupert. "We agreed to it then."
  "Did we?"
  "Yes, Father," said Rupert, then was quiet a moment. "As I was saying, Mara, if you have any messages for your husband, give them to me and I'll send them along."
  "Oh, that's very kind of you," she said. "I have... much to tell him. I'll be sure to write something tonight, then."
  "How are the others?" asked the King. "The two Princes and Princess? Was it Robert that you married?"
  Mara stared, uncertain how to respond. She then traded looks with Rupert and Anne and cleared her throat. "Er... No, your Majesty," she said. "It's his brother Kelvin that I married. Kelvin. And... Robert and Flora are... very well these days. Thank you for asking."

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

  "He's just... forgetful sometimes, is all," said Anne later in her parlor. She had pulled out her knitting and inquired after Mara's project, but her friend was yet to take up such a creative pursuit, to Anne's surprise. Mara kept a book beside her but did not read from it as long as they were speaking.
  "Well, I wouldn't expect him to know everything that happens in all kingdoms," said Mara.
  "You're correct," said Anne. "But then, he attended the funeral. He and the Queen. And your wedding to Kelvin, for that matter. But... he does seem... more forgetful of late. This was the first time we realized he'd forgotten their deaths. By the way, you handled his question well."
  "About Robert, you mean?"
  "Yes."
  "Oh," said Mara, "Well, I didn't know if it was my place to tell him. If you don't mind my asking, does anyone know why he's so forgetful?"
   Anne shrugged. "One would think his age is the cause, but then he is not that old. No more than King Silas, I should think."
  "King Silas is anything but forgetful," said Mara. "I wouldn't dare engage him in a battle of wits, either."
  "You think you would not be well-armed?" said Anne.
  "I think I would be unarmed," said Mara. "But I truly do hope the best for your King. That a salve for his forgetfulness is found. Perhaps it's the weight of the crown that burdens him so?"
  "Perhaps," said Anne, and continued her knitting.
  Another silence followed. Mara thought of reading a paragraph or two of her book, but found herself watching Anne as she knitted. "Did you know them?" she said. "Robert and Flora?"
  "I knew Flora," said Anne. "Before I married Rupert, Father and Mother would bring me when they visited Gildern on business. Flora and I would spend time together then."
  "What was she like?"
  "Oh," said Anne with a sigh, "She did enjoy music. Singing, especially. I'm no good at it myself, but she didn't seem to mind. We spent much time in the garden, picking flowers, then bringing them to her room to arrange them. She liked to play jokes on the servants, too."
  "Oh?" said Mara. "What sort?"
  Anne shrugged. "Just silly things like... oh, she would summon her handmaidens, then send them away if they weren't quick enough. And sometimes if they came too quickly, just to keep them from guessing. Or would order the wrong food on purpose and pretend that it was their fault. You know, silly things like that."
  "...I see," said Mara.
  Anne sighed again. "I do miss her. She really was quite sweet. She did love her tea parties. I miss Prince Robert, too, of course, though we'd traded a few words at best. He and Kelvin were always off somewhere, doing brotherly things. I miss him for his family's sake."
  "That's true for me, as well," said Mara. "It's Kelvin's pain that I feel, and his parents', too. They bear their pain well, but the wounds are deep. For all of Gildern. Everyone lost somebody."
  "So I heard," said Anne. "But enough sadness. Was your journey comfortable? Is there anything you'd like brought here? Something to drink? Surely you'd like a bath to be drawn."
  "Oh," said Mara. "A bath would be lovely, in time. Perhaps not this moment. Um..." She looked about the room. "Do you know where your children are?"
  "They're around," said Anne. "Probably in bed by now. I'll check on them before I turn in tonight. By the way, this may seem early for you, but have you chosen a nanny and nurse yet? It's important to find good ones, so you may need to cast a wide net."
  "I have not chosen anyone yet," said Mara. "But I have an excellent midwife. She-"
  "I meant for taking care of the children after they're born," said Anne. "And don't worry about wet nurses. Practically any lactating woman will do, though she needs to be healthy, of course."
  "...I have not chosen a wet nurse yet, either," said Mara. "But I should hope not to need one. I would hope that I could nurse him-- or her-- myself."
  "But that's the beauty of them," said Anne. "You don't even have to try when there's already someone right there, simply bursting with milk. I know, with your first child, you'll think you have to do everything on your own, but when I learned that I didn't have to, it made my life so much easier. The better the help is, the easier your life will be. Avail yourself of them. Trust me, you'll thank yourself for it."
  "I..." said Mara, straightening up, "I am grateful for your advice. But I think I would still... uh, first see what I can do on my own, and then... see how much help I need."
  "Suit yourself," said Anne. "But you know, it's the drudgery that they deal with. My children are the light of my life, but when somebody else cleans their messes, it makes them a little brighter, wouldn't you say?" She giggled.
  Mara shrugged. "I-I wouldn't know," she said. "That is, of course they're the joys of your life. I meant that I wouldn't know for myself. My hope is that I'm... there for my child, as much as I'm able to. I don't want it to grow up feeling as though no one is there for it."
  Anne peered at her. "Are you suggesting that my children have no one there for them?"
  "Oh, no, no, no!" said Mara, waving her hands. "I speak only for myself. Only for myself. You see, I did not... Well, it's not important, really. It's the past. I try to think only of the future now."
  Anne smiled. "You're worried about being a good mother?" she said.
  "Yes."
  "You'll do fine, dear," she said, patting Mara's knee. "And remember that you'll have a whole castle full of people that you can call upon at any time. That must be a comfort to you."
  "Oh, yes," said Mara. "I think I'd be grateful for any help. You say that-- the nurse and nanny-- they take care of 'drudgery?'"
  "Ah, you know," said Anne. "The messes that children make. Someone to wipe their bottoms and change their swaddling and clean the spit-up." She laughed and winked. "You'll find out soon enough, dear."
  "I'm certain that I will," said Mara. "It... it does sound tempting. I mean, someone else cleaning messes, certainly. I can't say that I enjoyed that sort of work, when I--" She caught herself, then shifted in her seat. "Uh... So... how often do you see your children?"
  "As often as I wish, of course," she said. "Some days more than others. For instance, I'm hosting your visit, so their caretakers know to keep them occupied unless they're called for."
  "Oh, please," said Mara, "Don't do that on my account. I would hate to be the one keeping you from them. I don't want-"
  "Tut, tut, dear, it's my pleasure to host you," said Anne. "Besides, they're learning when it's appropriate to visit and when it isn't."
  "So... there are times when children should be away?"
  "More like, near but unseen," said Anne. She set aside her knitting and stretched her arms. "Speaking of which, now would be a good time for me to do just that - see them. Mara, dear, would you think me rude if I turned in now?"
  "Of course not," she said. "I didn't realize how late it must be. By the way, how late is it?"
  "Fret not," said Anne. "I'm always early to bed. The sun goes down and I can barely keep my eyes open." She stood up and held out a hand. "Come; I'll walk with you to your room."
  "D-do you think I could...?" said Mara. "Would you mind if I joined you first in checking your children? B-but if it's a private moment between you all, I'll understand. I was just... I'm just curious."
  Anne pondered her question, then shrugged and nodded. "I wouldn't mind," she said. "Can't wait to start practicing, eh?"
  "I'm just trying to learn as much as I can," said Mara. "Thank you."

  The children were young enough that all three slept in the same room, or had been since the baby was able to sleep through the night. Before then Baby Elizabeth slept with the nurse and nanny. Anne whispered these things to Mara as they stood in the doorway, watching them sleep. They stood there for so long that she wondered if this wasn't the whole of it, or if Anne normally did more with the children, but did not wish to do so in Mara's presence. She was about to whisper to Anne that she would see herself to her room, when Anne finally went inside the room, moving carefully in the dark so as not to bump anything. Mara almost followed, then decided to linger in the doorway and even look elsewhere to offer some more privacy.
  She heard Anne whisper something, but could not make out the words, and may have heard a kiss, as well. This happened three times, and then Anne left the room and very slowly and carefully shut the door so as to make no sound. Then she sighed and smiled at her friend and offered an arm.
  "So quiet and peaceful in sleep," she said, guiding Mara through the dark corridors. "Of course you don't need to turn in. Stay up as late as you like."
  "No, I admit that I'm tired from all the traveling," said Mara. "But I do need to write something to send to Kelvin tomorrow, so sleep must wait until then. Would it be any trouble to ask for some candles? I'm afraid that I've used up mine."
  Anne chuckled. "So polite and apologetic," she said. "Of course it wouldn't be any trouble. Treat this castle as your own, and our servants as your own. Will you need paper, ink and a quill, as well?"
  "Now that, I have not used up," said Mara.

  The two women were quiet for the rest of the walk to Mara's guest room. Before she went inside Anne managed to flag down a nearby servant and order him to fetch candles for her guest. Mara called a thank you after him as he went about his errand, which amused Anne. She unwrapped her arm from Mara's and asked if there was any other need, and when the answer was no, she bade a goodnight and kissed her friend quickly on the cheek, then disappeared down the dark corridor.
  Mara thanked the servant again for bringing candles, then got busy lighting them and preparing her writing materials. She spent an hour just thinking of what to write, and then after starting, paused often to read through her words before continuing. She needed this letter to say exactly what she felt, and because it was difficult for her to articulate that as well as she liked, there was a lot of pondering between sentences.
  In all it took three hours for her to fill a single page, which for once was free of ugly ink blots obscuring her words. This was the cleanest letter she had ever written, by far. If it had been any less, she would have destroyed the paper and started fresh, but did not have to. After finishing the letter, she read through it half a dozen times in half a dozen ways to make sure it said exactly what she needed it to say. Even then she found herself second-guessing her own words, until sheer tiredness forced her hand. She carefully folded the letter and used some of the candle wax to seal it, and then wrote his name on the outside as clearly as she could.
  The deed done, she was free to climb into bed, but even the softness of the mattress was not enough to bring about sleep right away. Her mind kept "writing" the letter over and over, threatening to "rewrite" it, even, which she fought against. No! It was perfect! Time for sleep!

The Pauper Prince - Part 24

The Pauper Prince
Chapter 24

  "He promised I would go with him," she told Heather.

  "Wherever he goes, so would I! He said that!" she told Adrienne.

  "Even if it was to war, I said I would fight by his side!" she told a very puzzled Lucinda.

  The Queen's latest tea gathering included Princess Anne, Lucinda as always, and Cecily, the Duchess of Warbon, who Mara had learned was Kelvin's fourth cousin. To her relief, the Duchess appeared to have forgiven Mara for so brazenly stealing her cousin from her for a husband, but that may be because she had finally become betrothed herself. These ladies and several others were gathered and talking and laughing about many things, but mostly Mara's growing belly, Cecily's betrothal, and the solemnity of the war. All present were affected in some way by the event, whether by their own husbands taking part, or friends, or acquaintances. Duchess Ruth was present because her husband had sent her away from Gimsley as a form of protection. Whether or not she preferred to be by her husband's side, she did not say.
  Mara was the only one who kept silent during this gathering, other than to respond as briefly as possible to questions and comments. Most offerings of comfort were directed to the Queen, when Princess Anne remembered her peer.
  "Oh, Mara," she said. "We've been thoughtless. Scarcely out of your wedding dress and your husband is called away to war! And he has never fought until now."
  "He has trained for this his whole life," reminded the Queen.
  "Of course, your Majesty," she said. "That was not a reflection on his abilities. Gildern will surely rout the enemy!"
  "I'm supposed to be with him," said Mara flatly.
  Anne tilted her head, glanced at the Queen, then back to Mara and patted her hand. "That's so sweet of you, dear," she said. "You must miss him terribly."
  Mara turned slowly to look at her. Her expression was a blank. "I should be with him," she said. "Fighting with him. He promised me that. I promised him that."
  Again, Anne looked to the Queen in puzzlement. The Queen straightened up and cleared her throat.
  "Ah, Ladies," she said. "I do beg your pardon, and your indulgence. Let us... temporarily... disband our gathering, and the Princess and I will rejoin you posthaste. Please, take anything you wish with you, go out, visit the garden or just gather and talk. We'll be along presently."
  Some ladies took their tea and snacks with them, while others left empty-handed, but soon enough, Mara and the Queen were alone. The whole while Mara had watched them with a mix of confusion and concern. Her gaze lingered on the door after the last of them had left.
  "So," said the Queen, clasping her hands together. "Let us have it out."
  "Mother Queen," she said, "I-I don't understand what's happening."
  "We have not really spoken since he and our army left," said the Queen. "I am giving you the opportunity to do so. To unburden yourself."
  "...That's very kind of you, Mother Queen."
  "Be that as it may, speak your mind. Go. Have at it."
  After a silence, Mara shrugged. "I don't know what else to say, other than what I have been already."
  "And what would that be?"
  She shrugged again. "That I should be with him."
  "We all wish that, child," said the Queen. "I myself want nothing more than to take him in my arms, and keep him here, safe. But of course I cannot. He is a man - a Prince - and must... do his duty."
  "But he promised I would always be with him," she said. "We exchanged promises the day I gave him my sword. I would fight by his side.  And then... then when I reminded him of this, he said... he said he didn't mean that at all. That it was a metaphor. A word I've quickly come to loathe."
  "Ah," said the Queen. "He meant that you would always be 'with him' in his heart. Silas told me the same thing, whenever he had to lead his own men in battle. That is what a metaphor is-"
  "I know what it is," she snapped. "He's told me all of this."
  "Watch your tone, child," warned the Queen.
  "Forgive me," said Mara. "I just... I..."
  "I understand, child," she said, offering a comforting hand. "It's as Princess Anne said: newly married, and your husband is called away so abruptly. But that is the way of duty."
  "Duty," Mara grumbled. "I'm coming to loathe that word, too. Mother Queen, my promise to him was prose, not poetry. He's never fought before, but I have. He needs me there. He needs me to-!"
  "Wait, wait, wait, wait," said the Queen, holding up her hands. "What is it you're saying, now? That-- That you expected to actually accompany him to Gimsley? To fight there?"
  "Well-- Yes!"
  The Queen stared at her, long and hard. Mara wondered if she was expected to say more, when: "Have you lost your senses??"
  "Mother Queen, I am tired of being treated like some fragile thing of glass! I am not glass! I was raised to be strong! Not only that, but to fight! And-- and he tells me his promise was a 'metaphor.' A lie is what it really is! I cannot help but wonder what other 'metaphors' I've been told. When he says he loves me, is that one? Or when he's proud of me? Or are those all lies, too, like his promise??"
  "Enough!"
  Mara was startled into silence, then recovered after a few moments. "Mother Queen-"
  "I said Enough!"
  Mara was silent again, and stayed that way.
  "It is 'your Majesty' until I say otherwise," growled the Queen. Mara felt a chill in her spine. "I cannot believe what I hear now. I do not believe it! All this time, all these days, I thought you were grieving his absence, as were the rest of us, but this-- this is the true cause?"
  "Your Maj-"
  "Silence!" said the Queen. She was. "I have listened to your words, and now you will listen to mine! It is madness enough for you to grieve over your own foolish, wounded pride, but I will not sit here and tolerate your calling my son and your husband a liar! He was sparing your feelings, you insolent, uncaring child! In all this time, I have not heard one word - not one word of concern from you over him! Over his safety! His welfare! Nor the welfare of any others out there, fighting for these lands! Who now is the liar, then? Do you truly care a whit for him, or is that your own 'metaphor?'"
  Mara gasped. "How dare you-??"
  "For the final time, Silence!" bellowed the Queen, smashing a hand on the table. Mara flinched, this time in true fear. "Yes, I dare! You impudent, selfish, foolish girl! One more word - any word - from you without my leave, and I'll have you clapped in irons! You'll spend a night in a prison tower with naught but a hard cot, a chair and a pisspot! And the only reason you would have more than bread and water for a meal is because of the child, which you apparently don't give a damn about! Yes, I dare! You have shown only concern for your wounded pride and none for him, nor for the child you bear now! I have lost two children of my own, right in their coming of age! Is this something you have forgotten??"
  Fighting back tears, Mara dared not speak, but dared to shake her head.
  "If I could work my will," said the Queen, "Kelvin would be here, safe, forever. But then he would be abandoning his duty to King, Country, and to our allies! And as much as it pains me to see my only son - my only child! - leaving for God knows what horrors, there can be no other way. He cannot hide from his duty and still be King. For that, we must be proud of him, no matter our own selfish desires. And what of your duty? Your first duty to the kingdom? Do you remember that?"
  Mara looked over, uncertain if this was a test to trick her into speaking.
  "I give you leave," said the Queen. "Answer me!"
  "My... first...?"
  "Your first duty to the kingdom!" said the Queen. "You swore to it! Among other things!"
  "Heirs!" blurted Mara, quivering. "Heirs to the throne. Your Majesty."
  "And how are you fulfilling it?"
  Mara, puzzled, indicated her belly. The Queen scoffed. "There is more to it than a baby in your belly," she said. "What was your first thought towards it, with all that's happening now? What were you thinking?"
  "I don't-"
  "Do not answer!" said the Queen, pointing. "You no longer have leave. I will tell you. Your first thought was not to protect the child, to keep it safe and healthy. It was to strap on some armor, grab a sword and shield and rush yourself - and it - into a field of battle! Do not deny it!!"
  "Please..."
  "What was that?" said the Queen, leaning closer. "Was that a word? A word without leave? Do you prefer a cot over your warm bed? Is that it?" Mara clamped her mouth shut and shook her head. "I thought not. Should I regret having blessed the marriage? Should I??"
  Mara shook her head again. The Queen always sounded like herself, but Mara could not help but hear her father's voice, ranting and screaming in a drunken rage, though the Queen's anger was not fueled by alcohol. Mara unconsciously shrank in on herself and braced for a strike, which was how her father had usually punctuated his tirades. The Queen had not raised a hand against her, but it did not matter. She was in the same mental state now as she'd been for most of her childhood: terrified, but taking it. Tears flowed freely, but she made no effort to stop them or wipe them away.
  "You offered a promise of your own free will to support him," said the Queen. "To stand by him, no matter the consequences. Your own words, and this is how you 'support' and 'stand by him?' By heaping abuse on his name? By calling him a liar? Ridiculous, stupid girl! I am ashamed of you! Ashamed!"
  Mara could not stop the whimper that came from her. She clamped her hands over her mouth and prayed that the Queen did not mistake it for a word. The Queen did pause and stare as if daring her to make any other noise. Mara closed her eyes and shuddered.
  "I suppose I've said enough," said the Queen, with a veneer of calm. "You have leave to speak now. Freely, in fact. Words in your defense. A challenge. An explanation. Whatever you wish to say, you may say it."
  She waited, but Mara had neither the strength nor courage to speak. The Queen poured herself more tea and fixed it with her condiment - just a bit of lemon - and sipped at it while Mara made a supreme effort to compose herself. The Queen took the teapot and silently offered some, but Mara shook her head quickly. She uncompressed her body and unconsciously let her hands rest on her belly. It did not steady her hands, though.
  She said something so quietly that the Queen needed to lean forward. She peered at the Princess.
  "Did you say something?"
  Mara gathered what little strength and courage she had to straighten up and take in a breath. "I miss him," she whispered. The Queen opened her mouth as if to speak, then only nodded.
  "I have... lost my mother," she said. "In childbirth. And my father, in combat. But this is the first time I--" The tears caught up with her again, and she broke down, but just as quickly fought them back in order to continue. "The first time I've... that someone I truly care for... love... has left me. I love him, your Majesty. You may not believe me, but I love him... so much... with every-- everything within me, and-- and I know what he's going through now. I have been there. It's terrifying. I'm terrified. I'm terrified... for him. It's why I lost my senses and reason and thought of nothing but being with him, no matter the consequences." She touched her belly. "I spent so much of my life alone, yet now, I cannot bear to be without him! And if something ever happened to him--!"
  "No," said the Queen. "I cannot bring myself to say or think... such things. I cannot. He will come back to us. And not if he does. Will."
  "I understand, your Majesty," said Mara. "I can't let myself think the worst, either. I must not. But..." She covered her face in her hands. "You're right. I have brought shame to the family. I have ignored my duty. I am unworthy of him. Of you. Of the King. Of... of everything I have here!"
  "Child..." said the Queen, setting down her tea and tugging at one of Mara's arms.
  "I spoke in anger to him," she said. "My last words to him were in anger, and he... his words to me came from love. What have I done, your Majesty? What have I done??"
  The Queen stood up, then moved to the sofa to sit beside Mara, who withdrew and leaned away, shaking her head.
  "No," she said. "I don't deserve your touch. Please don't!"
  "Silence," said the Queen, but gently this time. She did not embrace Mara, but put a comforting hand on her back and rubbed it. "Love makes us foolish, child. And makes us strong. You see now the true price of duty and responsibility." Mara nodded. "But we must always pay it. Just remember that we pay it together."
  "I... I'm not sure I'm following you, your Majesty."
  The Queen laughed once. "Yes, I should speak plainly," she said. "I mean that you are not alone. He is our son, and your husband, and we all love him. We all miss him. We all wish we could be with him. That is what I meant about 'paying it together.' And I hope and pray that he knows how much we love him, and uses it to find the strength and courage to do what he must."
  "Yes," said Mara. "I pray it, too." She stopped and became somber again, her voice once again a whisper. "And yet I last spoke to him in anger."
  "And when he returns," said the Queen. "When he returns... you will make it up to him."
  "I will," she said. "A thousandfold. Or however much it takes. I pray that he forgives me."
  "He will," said the Queen, and they were both silent. The Queen stopped rubbing her back, and began pulling her into an embrace. Mara begrudgingly accepted it now, and eventually reciprocated. They held each other silently for a minute. The Queen patted her back twice, and they parted.
  "Daughter," said the Queen. Mara felt a flush of warmth. "You may call me Mother Queen, if you wish."
  "...Thank you."
  The Queen finished off her tea while Mara put her hand on her belly.
  "My first duty," she said, mostly to herself. She and the Queen traded looks. The Queen offered a small smile, which Mara returned, but uncertainly.

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

  It was two days later that Heather informed her Lady excitedly that, now that she had come of age - began bleeding, that is - she could be married. Her parents had been busily searching for a suitable husband even before that time, and it was with undignified giddiness that she could finally announce their decision: Leonard, the young guard and her long-time friend and now, her intended. It had taken some effort on both their parts to convince their respective parents to allow the union. To start, her parents' preference had been a man of equal or greater rank, which was a challenge, for a personal attendant to royalty was a very high rank indeed for a servant. Conversely, his own parents needed convincing for their son to marry someone of greater rank than he. They had been looking at cooks, seamstresses and others who would not overshadow a guard.
  To Mara's surprise Heather had used her marriage to Kelvin as an example of the odd concept of "love" being a suitable reason for such a union. If a Prince could marry a Countess for love, than why not the same amongst the servants? The Princess was touched and pleased to have given an unknowing stamp of approval to it.
  Mara reacted to the happy news with the traditional shouts of glee, tight embraces, and cheek kisses. Her assistant babbled happily about their plans - her parents' plans, that is, for they were the ones paying for it. Mara felt the shock and guilt from the Queen's blistering attack melt away as she just relaxed and let herself be swept up in the girl's joy. She could not help but smile and laugh with her and finally forget her own concerns, even if just for this moment.
  The only regret that Heather let slip was how much of a challenge it was to find time alone with her betrothed. This puzzled Mara, until she was reminded that those of the gentry could afford privacy. Even the highest of the servants shared quarters and common areas. Heather herself shared a room with three other handmaidens, and Leonard's "room" was the guards' barracks. Whatever time they had together was while alone in a crowd.
  Mara offered her sympathies, and then an idea came that excited her greatly. She offered her parlor to them for a private meal. To obscure the reason for their fancy meal, she would order it for herself and then serve it to them personally. They could even ring a bell to call her for anything they needed, and the Princess was getting so excited about the idea that her assistant could scarcely get in a word of uncertainty, let alone protest. Finally there was a pause in her narration that Heather took advantage of.
  "Mara, it would be too much," said Heather. "We shouldn't be alone in royal chambers. It wouldn't be proper."
  "Anyone may be my guest," said Mara. "There's no rule that I have to be there with them. Please; let me offer that gift to you. The first of many, I hope."
  "Many gifts?"
  "Well..." she said. "I won't be the only one helping you in your new life. But... I want to be one of them, if you'll let me."
  Heather pondered her offer in silence for a time, and then ultimately... did let her.

  The private meal happened just as Mara had described it to Heather. She ordered it for herself "and a guest," but why the Princess insisted on taking each course to her room personally was beyond the staff's comprehension. At one point she was balancing three plates on her left arm and a platter of drinks on her right hand, which impressed an awkwardly gushing Leonard. If only he'd known how often she'd done just that sort of thing at the Eleanor Elaine, but to her great vexation, that part of her life was a closed book to the public.
  The young couple were dressed in their finest, but given their differing stations, her finest outstripped his, but only he noticed. The Princess herself insisted that they both looked stunning together. Whenever she brought the next course, she quickly took the old dishes to her bedroom and stacked them up there before returning them to the kitchen - again, baffling the staff. Mara eventually told them that she had lost a wager with her guest and was supposed to do all the servant work that night, as the punishment. She loathed the lie, but better that than letting rumors get started. In between courses she returned to her bedroom and read while waiting for the bell. It took some convincing on her part for them to use it, but how else would she know she was needed?
  She almost regretted that it was now time for dessert, and walked a slower pace with the small tray, for she was having as much fun in her own way as the young couple. They were always smiling and laughing and chatting excitedly whenever she entered the parlor. She listened at the door, but heard nothing this time. It likely meant nothing, too, so she opened the door and stepped in.
  The couple was so engrossed in their mad kissing session that they did not hear or see her enter. Mara's eyes went wide, and she almost spoke, but first had the presence of mind to shut the door behind her quickly and quietly. And they still did not hear.
  She carried the tray to them, and still they carried on. She could not possibly have been treading that softly. After a few moments of looking one to the other, she bent over the table with the tray and held it several inches above, then let go. At least they heard the clatter. Heather shrieked, Leonard yelped, and they parted and sat up straight in an instant, as though that would erase what they'd been doing.
  "My Lady..." said Heather, hyperventilating.
  "I beg your pardon, your Majesty!" said Leonard, standing up and trying to rush past her. Mara caught his arm and held him in place. She gestured towards the settee with her head. He hesitated, then bent his head low and made his way back.
  "Leonard, it is... it's 'your Highness,'" Heather whispered after he sat back down.
  "What?"
  "You called her 'your Majesty,'" she explained. "The proper address is-"
  "Dear, that's not important right now," said Mara. "Both of you: please stand up."
  "Please, your Highness," said Leonard, once again standing. "Don't tell our parents. Or have us executed!"
  "Oh, Leo," said Heather. "She wouldn't have us executed." Then she suddenly became alarmed and concerned. "Right, my Lady?"
  Her Lady rolled her eyes. "Please turn around," she said. "Slowly." The couple did so. When they had made a complete turn, Mara folded her arms, hmm'ed to herself, then nodded. "You seem to be fully clothed," she said. "The whole truth, Heather: was your virtue compromised at any time?"
  "No, my Lady!" said Heather. "A most emphatic no! He-he has been a perfect gentleman. My virtue is... unblemished." Leonard stared at the Princess and nodded his head vigorously.
  She pondered her reply in silence, long enough to make them both uncomfortable. Leonard made a noise to speak, but Heather silenced him with a wave of her hand and a shake of the head.
  "Your parents should be told," said Mara finally. "But whether it is by me or by you, is what I'm trying to decide. I say this because..." She cleared her throat. "Uh, because Prince Kelvin and I also... embraced... as you were doing, before we married. And we did confess this to the King and Queen."
  "And they still let you marry?" said Leonard. This earned him a mild version of the Look, but even a mild version was powerful. He blushed and looked down. "O-of course they did, your Highness," he said. "I meant no disrespect."
  "I'll tell you what I will do right now," said the Princess. She pushed the tray of desserts to the center of the table and fixed their arrangement. "As you can see, I've brought your final course, and like before, I will retire to the room next door and occupy myself, and wait for your bell. And please do try at least one cake; they're my favorite kinds. We can work out later the who and the how of telling your parents."
  The couple watched her in stunned silence as she entered her bedroom and quietly shut the door behind her, just like she had all night. On the other side of the door, Mara paused, then dropped her regal facade and smiled and chuckled to herself. Marrying for love, indeed.

  The next morning Heather silently went about her duties for her Lady. Mara was also silent, preferring to let her offer anything she might wish to offer, and suppressed any smiles, which was especially difficult given the absolute glow that the girl was giving off. After Heather was done with her morning routine, and was about to take her leave, she paused at the door.
 "Mara?" she said.
  Her Lady nodded slightly and waited patiently for her to continue. Heather seemed to be having trouble getting out her words. Finally she gave up and rushed at her, almost knocking her over, and held her in a tight hug. Once the Princess regained her composure, she wrapped her arms around her assistant/friend and rested her chin gently on top of the girl's head. She would let Heather decide how long it lasted. About half a minute, it turned out. When they parted, Heather's face still glowed, and her smile had never been brighter.
  "The food was that good, hm?" said Mara, tucking her chin playfully.
  "I have no words," she said. "My Lady. Except 'thank you.'"
  "The pleasure was all mine," said Mara, stroking her curly, red tresses. "I wish you both every happiness. And what good is a 'master' who doesn't ever help the 'servant?' So to speak." She pulled the younger woman into another, quick hug, then kissed the top of her head before letting go.

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

  Mara realized that she needed to confess about her "gift" to the King and Queen, in the spirit of keeping no secrets. Well, one secret was kept. They took the news with a certain amount of detachment, as if used to the strange way that she treated the help.
  They also noticed that the Princess' spirits and attitude had greatly improved of late; for one, gone was her constant gloom since the war had begun. In the King's case, the cause was unknown, for the Queen had not told him of her tirade against the Princess. While harsh, the Queen's talk had apparently been very effective. But the harshness came from her own anger, which she no longer felt. Affecting other improvements would require other methods, but fortunately she had several. It dawned on the Queen that she could take advantage of the Prince's absence and see what other flaws in the Princess' behavior and character could be corrected before he returned. For instance, this business of telling every servant she saw to forgo her proper title and address, to say nothing of personally serving them meals, and other oddities. These corrections would be a fine welcome-home gift for her son.

The Pauper Prince - Part 23

The Pauper Prince
Chapter 23

  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. For three weeks there were festivities almost daily of one kind or another, both in and out of the castle. In fairness, it did not take much reason for rich and poor alike to drop what they were doing and celebrate with music, singing, dancing, games, food and drink. Mostly drink. When one party spontaneously broke out in Allcourt upon the news, a day or two later most of the participants would be hard-pressed to remember the original reason for it. The people's hearts were in the right place, though.
  It was at this time that Mara realized that she had scarcely left the castle grounds since first arriving there, other than for tightly-controlled riding lessons. The farthest she had been was to see the five acres of land bestowed upon her by King Silas. Most of it was forest with, true to its name, a winding or "bending" river. Other than that she had not been back to Allcourt. Kelvin had, for official business as the Prince, and while he had not paid a surprise visit to Erick at the Eleanor Elaine, it surprised him that he encountered no one who had remembered him as Kenneth the Minstrel. Clothing, and a different demeanor, apparently really did make the man.
  She talked him into riding into town for an impromptu visit and a bit of nostalgia. She could not talk him into arriving in town incognito, nor on foot. He reminded her that it had taken a painfully long time to convince his parents to allow his mad, but ultimately successful, undercover mission to find a wife. Further diminishing the  fun was that the King and Queen refused to allow fewer than six guards accompanying them at all times. Her pleas that she could defend herself if needed fell on deaf ears. In a most base betrayal, Kelvin agreed with them. Her own husband sided with them in insisting that she be surrounded by protectors while riding through the very streets where she had once roamed freely without molestation. "Because you were just another commoner," he tried to explain. "You're a royal Princess now, not a pauper. And don't be surprised if people don't recognize the old you."
  The entourage of six mounted guards was led by Seamus, with two more seated behind the couple on their royal... cart. That was about the only compromise the royal family made with her; their vehicle was allowed to be open-air. The driver also doubled as an armed protector. Once they reached town, Mara made the best of it and smiled and waved at the surprised passersby they encountered. It was an impromptu visit, so there were no banners or decorations or people lining the streets to throw flowers or gifts to them, and she preferred it that way. People noticed and recognized them as they rode by - as the Royal Couple. Kelvin was correct; Mara waved and called out to people that she recognized, some of whom she had interacted with almost every day, and they waved back, but clearly not knowing why a Princess was giving them extra attention.
  The farther into town they rode, the larger the crowd became. The mounted guards tightened their circle around the cart, but not so much that passersby could not see in between. Most men removed their hats and bowed; the women attempted dips of varying success. People who waved got a big wave and smile back from the Princess, and a polite nod from the Prince. Those who called out congratulations or huzzahs received clear and strong thanks.
  They had no real plan or destination. If passing a familiar location, she would point it out and give Kelvin a "Remember that?" Most of the time he did not, but smiled and nodded to please her. It helped that the town was pretty much just as she had remembered, but then, it had only been about a year. He did, on occasion, need to remind her to keep her hands, arms, feet and legs inside the vehicle at all times, such as when she started leaning too closely to enthusiastic greeters.
  The cart and its entourage turned around near the end of the main road, and it was then that they saw how large the crowd had become. People had formed a parade of sorts behind them. It was going to be a bit of a challenge to get out of town at the same pace. She caught the beleaguered Seamus' attention and apologized. He responded with a mildly cynical smile. It was a minor miracle and testament to the leadership and skill of the Captain of the Guard, and his men, that they were able to make the return trip without being swamped by revelers. Even so, at one point, when the crowd was particularly loud and enthusiastic, she traded looks with her husband and silently acknowledged his "I told you so" expression. No longer "just another commoner," indeed. She unconsciously took his hand and held it tight the rest of the way through town.
  By the time they made it back to the Eleanor Elaine, the hubbub was enough to rouse Erick's curiosity. Mara saw him emerge from the inn, holding one of his typically old rags for wiping down tables. His eyes were not great for distance, so he peered for several seconds as the entourage drew closer. Mara had been waving all the while with no reaction, and she was starting to wonder if even he, like all the others, would not recognize her. Then Kelvin leaned forward, looked his way, gave something like a wave-salute, and smiled. The lamp of recognition inside Erick's head finally lit up, and he dropped his rag, and his jaw, and watched this very familiar Royal Couple ride by. The Princess who had once emptied pisspots for him now gave him a good-natured shrug, blew him a kiss, and turned around to keep watching him as they finished riding out of town and back on the road to the castle.
  "I wish we could have stopped," she said, taking Kelvin's arm and leaning close to him. "It would have been nice to talk to Erick again. See how he's doing these days."
  "Probably still underpaying his workers," said Kelvin. "And your walking about would have presented Seamus and his men too much of a challenge, I'm afraid," said Kelvin.
  "I know," she said and was pensive. "My walking about, you say. When you've been back there several times already."
  "They won't let me come unguarded, either," he said. "My days as Kenneth the Minstrel are over."
  "In that case," she said, "I'm very glad I was able to meet him." She took his hand and kissed it reverently. "Thank you for indulging me, Darling."
  "Always," he said, and put his arm around her.
  "Hmph," she said. "Perhaps we should try to return incognito next time. Sneak out late at night or something." He looked at her in alarm, until she flashed him an impish grin. He smiled back mildly, then exchanged many long kisses with her. The first time they had taken this road together, she was worried that far-off peasants would see them holding hands. Now their accompanying guards could watch them make out for the next several miles, and she did not care.

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

  Under normal circumstances Mara would have found the humor in the royal family's presentation of her as the beatific bearer of the throne's next heir (assuming the child was male), versus the reality of her spending many of her mornings on her hands and knees, spewing into a bucket. But she felt just too horrible to even muster a chuckle. It was only because her midwife, and Sir William, for that matter, had warned about this experience that she did not entirely believe that she was dying... even if it often felt that way. As much as Kelvin wanted to make her discomfort go away, the best he could offer were comforting touches and words.  They helped her more than she could convey to him.
  She complied with the family's wish for her to visit Sir William for monitoring of the child's growth and medicine meant to "balance her humors." Once she was done with those visits, she went to Adrienne and followed her advice instead. The midwife was careful not to speak ill of the Royal Physician's advice, but Mara felt free to be dismissive. Ultimately nothing that either practitioner gave her stopped the nausea or all-around lousiness, but crackers and sucking on ice did help more than the doctor's foul-smelling, and tasting, herbs and potions. The latter ended up taking trips down a toilet hole after making her feel worse. All fine as long as the family didn't catch her at it.
  It was when her taste and smell had altered enough to make her vomit immediately after entering the kitchen, that her duty of running the same was removed. Some would argue forcibly, given the strength of her protestations against the decision, but the Queen, and in yet another base betrayal, the Prince, would not budge. While inwardly conceding that they were correct, for she was no good to the staff if she could not stand being around raw food, she had been getting into a "groove" for the work, and as always, liked being busy.
  Suddenly her only "duty" was to lie or sit around and do nothing but feel nauseated, with little except sedentary activities to pass the time. Riding her horse was forbidden now, lest the child be shaken from the womb, to say nothing of her combat lessons with Seamus. For the latter, she had finally swallowed enough of her pride to ask for and receive them. Then the lessons became no-nos as soon as her pregnancy was confirmed. At least she could still practice archery, as long as she kept her movements to a minimum.
  She was also permitted to sit with the family while they held court. As always nobility of all ranks drifted in and out, unloading their problems, offering advice but usually being offered it, attempting to influence decisions, attempting to gain favor, or attempting to just look cool in the royals' presence. Count Richard often asked about roads and bridges. The Duke of Gimsley was concerned about the kingdom of Breech pressing against his northern borders. Mara cringed inwardly at the mention of her homeland and hoped no one would remember where she was from. The most distant visitor of late was a Prince from Dunhoart, who... just seemed to be there. She guessed that his purpose was to suss out Gildern as a potential ally. Hopefully an ally, that is.
  A highlight of these times in court was the bestowing of knighthood on worthy subjects. She had learned that gaining a knighthood took years of work, loyalty and devotion to King and Country, so it was a joyful occasion to see the pride in their faces, and in the faces of their gathered loved ones, as the King dubbed them "Sir." Aside from Sir William the physician, there were other knights in and around the castle grounds, including Seamus, who for reasons of his own never insisted on being addressed by a title. At least she knew she wasn't the only one with that inclination, even if her in-laws only just tolerated that "quirk."
  Commoners also came to present grievances. They were typically elected representatives, such as mayors or guild masters. Some came to represent themselves. Mara noticed that the family listened to all visitors, regardless of their station, and seemed to lay down fair judgments. All this time in court required quite a lot of sitting, but at least she was learning something.

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

  The day came when Gimsley called for aid. Now Breech was not just pressing borders, but actively trying to erase them. And Gildern answered: ride to its ally's aid. Just like that, its army was being assembled. King Silas had led men to war three times in his lifetime; now it was, to his and the Queen's great regret, Prince Kelvin's time to take his place. He had never been called upon to fight before, but had trained with Seamus and others for most of his life, and been tutored in the ways of leading in battle for just as long.
  Mara was as alarmed and dismayed as any of them, but perked up when she realized that she could finally make good on a promise she had made to him. That they had made to each other. And at last, she had gone a full week without being debilitated by nausea, so that horror was surely behind her.

  Heather did not understand what she was helping her Lady pack for, but did so nonetheless. She was tasked with selecting clothing for her lady, but everything she picked was dismissed outright. Finally the Princess heaved them all aside and made a final search in the wardrobe before slamming the doors shut.
  "Nnngh, I have nothing to wear!" she said, and paced in frustration.
  "I beg your pardon, Mara, but I wish I knew what you need? Is it something to see off your husband and the men in? Something elegant, but solemn?"
  "Hm?" said Mara, her brooding interrupted. "No, no, I need protective clothing, suitable for travel and combat. Armor, in fact. I can't find my old leather and leggings. I didn't throw them away myself, I know that! Who would do that?? And Kelvin has my sword, which is his now, so I won't take it back, but I'll need a weapon. Something from the armory."
  "I--!" said Heather, then froze. When she was flustered, her conditioning kicked in. "My Lady, I am here to serve, but I know not how!" She held out her hands in supplication. Mara stared at her, then shook her head and smiled gently. Her assistant was always so well-meaning and sincere, she couldn't be angry with her.
  "It's all right, dear," she said. "You've done nothing wrong. I just need to talk to my husband. Please, just-- do nothing else for packing until I return. Relax."
  "Yes, My Lady."

  The Prince had his own attendants helping with packing. His parents were also there to offer final words of advice and encouragement. Mara burst in on this, already talking, then froze. The Queen took her by the hand and led her to join the others.
  "Now we are all here for you, my son," said the Queen. "We are..." She took a deep breath. "We know that you are doing your duty, and we are all proud of you."
  "Thank you, Mother," said Kelvin, pausing in his packing to give her and his wife kisses on the cheek. Mara opened her mouth to speak, but-
  "I prayed this day would never come," said the King, and tried to say more, but tightened his mouth and was silent.
  The Queen put a hand on his shoulder. "Come," she said. "We should leave him to his preparations. We will see him off with the others soon."
  The King nodded, and they made to leave. The Queen paused after noticing Mara lingering, and gestured for her to follow.
  "I-I was hoping to..." said Mara. "I still have questions, so..."
  The Queen and the Prince exchanged nods, and Mara was left with him alone but for the attendants. Kelvin caressed her face before exchanging a long kiss. When he moved away, she took his hand to stop him and held it while speaking.
  "I haven't been able to pack," she said. "I have nothing but frilly things these days. I need your help to find proper protection. And weapons!"
  Kelvin opened his mouth to speak, then shut it and just stared for a few moments. Then: "What?"
  "Protection," she said. "Weapons. Armor, if there's anything that will fit me. You remember my promise to fight by your side?" Kelvin, still staring, managed to point at her belly, but she ignored or did not understand the gesture. "And you promised that wherever you go, I'd go, too."
  "I..." he said, then shook his head vaguely. "What?"
  "Why do you keep saying that?"
  "When did I say you'd be going with me to war?"
  "When I gave you my sword," she said impatiently. "You said you would-- Well, first I said that I'd fight with you if you ever had to go to war. Darling-" She clasped both her hands around his. "-I have fought before; you haven't. You haven't seen what a battle is like. I can... help you through those things. And even if, for whatever reason, I'm unable to wield a weapon, I should still be there, with you. And you said that wherever you go, so would I. Why this confusion?"
  Kelvin looked away slightly, thinking back on that day. "I said.... I said you would be with me. Not actually at my side."
  "Not--?" she said. "What on earth was it supposed to mean, if not that?"
  "In my heart," he said, touching his chest. "In my thoughts. You will be with me. Do you understand? I-- Darling, it was a metaphor!"
  "A what?"
  "You gave me your sword," he said, looking about the room for it. An attendant found it and handed it to him. "Your most prized possession. This represents you. It's with me, and so will you be. Now do you understand?"
  It was her turn to stare in confusion, then annoyance. "That is the most ridiculous-!"
  "Mara!" he cried with such force that she shrank back. "You are with child! My child! The kingdom's child! There is no battlefield for you!"
  "I--! I am not helpless!" she said, regaining her courage. "Why is everyone treating me that way??"
  "No one has said that you're helpless," he grumbled in frustration.
  "I'm being treated that way!"
  "I don't have time for this," he said, throwing up his hands. "You must leave now. I-- You cannot come with me. That is no metaphor; you are literally not accompanying me to a war! It is done!"
  "Metaphor," she growled. "I curse the day I ever heard the word. A lie is what it is!"
  Kelvin beckoned an attendant to him and pointed at Mara. "Please," he said. "Please see her out."
  "Yes, m'lord," said the attendant.
  "!! I'm being dismissed??"
  The attendant held out a hand to her. "Your Highness?"
  She recoiled at his gesture, but began backing up to the door. "I will see myself out," she said. She pointed at Kelvin. "You promised. I was not the one who broke mine. You need me with you!"
  "...I need you here," said Kelvin quietly, his eyes moistening, but she was too angry to notice. She opened the door and prepared to storm out, and pondered adding a dramatic slam. "Mara," he said again, and she paused. "I love you."
  Her anger was barely abated, but it was enough to convince her to close the door normally.

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

  Wails of sorrow, tears, sad songs and music filled the courtyard as guards and soldiers prepared to depart. Those with wives and children attempted to comfort them. Friends embraced. Not all guards were leaving, only those who had fought or trained as soldiers before, and the castle was not to be unguarded, either way. As a matter of example, Seamus would accompany his Prince to Gimsley and fight. Leonard, the guard Mara had met the same day as Heather, would stay behind and help defend the castle if needed.
  She stood with the royal family and their attendants as Kelvin finished up his business with Seamus and other soldiers. They were all going to ride out to meet up with the army and shorten the three-day journey if possible. She noticed that the King and Queen were keeping up their dignified appearances in spite of the dramatic overtures around them. It was a struggle for her to do the same, given her anger with her husband. "Metaphor," indeed!
  Now came the time for him to approach them and make his farewells. He hugged his father tightly and held it, then parted and traded kisses on the cheek. For his mother, the same, followed by one more embrace. For his dear wife, he took her hands and tried to exchange a loving gaze, but she had trouble meeting it. Her hands were shaking. He attempted a smile.
  "Will you be strong for me?" he said softly.
  She tightened her mouth and held up her chin. "I am strong," she said.
  He pulled her into a hug, rested his chin on her shoulder and closed his eyes. She kept her eyes open and tried to fight back tears. After they parted, he took a moment to lay his hands on her growing belly.
  "Darling," he said, "If I don't make it back-"
  "Son!" said his mother, dabbing at her eyes.
  Kelvin shook himself from those thoughts and held out a hand to her. "Mother, forgive me," he said. "We'll not speak of that again." To Mara, "Before I go, perhaps I could take your favor with me?"
  Mara looked to the Queen, then back to him. "I... You have my sword. So I can 'be with you.' That is my favor."
  "So it is, Darling," he said, and kissed her hand several times before leaving them. An attendant had brought his horse. He mounted it smoothly and looked back at his family one last time before galloping through the courtyard.
  Mara could stand it no longer. The dam holding back her tears burst, and she began to run after him. "I should be with you!" she cried. "You promised! Why can I not be with you? Whyyyyy?"
  "What in the world-??" said the King, exchanging startled looks with the Queen. He pointed at some guards. "Why are you standing there?? Don't let her leave the grounds!"
  For a pregnant woman, she gave her pursuers a good chase. Their strategy was to block her path over grabbing or pushing, considering her rank and condition. Mara dodged them angrily and tried to order them away, but they were answering to a higher power. She managed to reach the main gates, but stopped herself and leaned against the wall, bitter tears blinding her vision of the Prince as he disappeared quickly into the distance. Suddenly her strength failed, and she slid down to the ground, sobbing all the way and repeating, "You promised... You promised..." Most of the guards kept their distance to allow her this moment, until after a minute, Leonard was the one who stepped forward to offer his hand. She just stared at it a long time before finally allowing herself to be pulled onto her feet and escorted back to the King and Queen.
  The King glared at her for her grossly undignified display. The Queen put a comforting hand on her as they made their way back inside, their solemn silence occasionally interrupted by Mara's shudders.