The Pauper Prince - Part 30

The Pauper Prince
Chapter 30

  After breakfast, no time was wasted allowing the Princess to recover from her infamous "lost day" and get caught up on everything she'd missed. To begin with, little Isabel needed a baptism posthaste. The bishop had been on standby since her birth, and once the traditional, tent-sized, white baptismal dress was on her, off everyone rode to the chapel for the mandatory naming and dunking ceremony. Having only recently been introduced to the various concepts and traditions of any religion, never mind theirs, Mara failed to grasp the sense of urgency. In which case, she had no objection to the quickness of the ceremony - only confusion.
  Almost immediately after Isabel was protected from the tragedy of a demise sans baptism, and after running a gauntlet of well-wishers outside the chapel, and after finally returning to the castle, Mara was informed that Isabel would be presented to the people. Kelvin then assured the concerned Princess that it did not mean that everyone in the kingdom would be queuing to visit her and the baby, but that the people within the castle would gather under the grand balcony and be introduced to her. Mara then remembered that Kelvin had done the same thing with her after the engagement was announced. For some reason it was important to the family to display people from above.
  Solomon would make the speech to introduce the newest member of the royal family to the crowd below, for his voice could carry across an ocean, and he did enjoy the honor of announcing things and people.
  The family had gathered just inside while Solomon received last-minute instructions. Most of them came from the King and Queen, though Mara tried to interject that he should thank everyone for coming, given their busy days at work, but the others did not appear to have heard her. When the Queen suggested that he "make certain that there is lightness" in his introduction, Mara suggested that he make a joke or two.
  "You will not make any jokes," warned the King to Solomon, without looking at her. She was properly contrite afterwards and made no more suggestions.
  Mara enjoyed meeting "the people," but big displays such as these terrified her. Memories began to return of her almost fainting during her own "presentation to the people" after being coaxed into joining Kelvin on the balcony. The gathered crowd may have been cheering and shouting huzzahs, but it would not have surprised her if a shower of rotten food had been flung at any moment. Back then she might have run back inside in reaction to such an assault and curled into a ball of humiliation. Now, she imagined that if she saw anyone so much as hold up an apple, she might hurl herself over the railing and beat the transgressor into unconsciousness before the fruit got anywhere near her daughter.
  Mara shook such violent thoughts from her head. Where did they come from?? No, they would cheer and shout huzzahs. Surely they would. Knowing that, once again, she - no, not she, but her child - would be trotted out for display, her hands trembled too much to trust herself. Kelvin happily accepted the responsibility of carrying their child for this tradition. She only needed to look on lovingly this time.
  Solomon approached the edge of the balcony, which caused a brief eruption of applause - one that was easily quieted. He then clasped his hands together and took a deep breath.
  "Good people of Gildern!" he could be heard to say from far and wide. "Our Most Royal Majesties, King Silas and Queen Lily, their noble son, His Royal Highness Prince Kelvin, and his exquisite bride, Her Royal Highness Princess Mara, bid you their warmest welcome and their deepest gratitude for joining them here and now, in spite of your busy days and nights, for this most happy occasion. This most joyful occasion, this shining moment of hope for us all. Please, good people, without further ado, join them in welcoming this most precious addition to their family - to our family - to all families in the kingdom of Gildern - Her Most Newborn Highness... Princess Isabel Cassandra Lily!"
  The crowd roared, which was the cue for the King and Queen to approach first and wave regally to the gathered. They lowered their hands and nodded to Kelvin, who smiled at Mara and walked forward. She stumbled at first, and almost stopped, but was pulled in his wake by an unseen force, until they both reached the edge. Mara peered over the railing and nearly swooned again. There was easily double the number of people from before. There had to be. Her memory couldn't be that bad. She gripped the railing hard, dug her nails into the wood, and tried to breathe normally.
  The applause went on and on. People shouted different things, such as the expected "huzzah!" and "congratulations!" Some took up a chant of "Long live the Princess!" which she thought was very kind of them to say about her child. It helped her to ease her death grip on the railing. Other words, she could not decipher, but decided to assume that they were complimentary.
  She looked to Kelvin and their daughter, whom he carefully held just far out enough to be seen, but near enough not to put her in danger of falling. As expected she looked on lovingly, and after some time, the warm greeting from the throng conquered her terror, and she looked out amongst them and began blowing kisses and waving in a most assuredly non-regal manner. She tried shouting "Thank you!" into the crowd, but her words were buried by their clamor. She recognized many faces, but did not see ones she was particularly looking for, such as Adrienne and her family, or even Ophelia and her own little one.
  Finally the King and Queen gave the crowd final, regal waves and nods to indicate that the presentation was drawing to a close, and went inside first, followed by the Prince and Princesses, but not before the Prince held her up once more for the crowd. The cheering crescendoed, then dwindled as they finally returned inside. Solomon remained behind to thank the people again for coming, before dispersing them to their normal duties. When he also returned from the balcony, Mara intercepted.
  "Thank you, dear Solomon," she said. "You give such lovely speeches. Your voice is so... so compelling."
  "It was my honor, your Highness." He never smiled, but could show a certain twinkle in his eye when called for.
  "The honor is ours," said Kelvin. "No one could have presented her better."
  "I do my best, your Highness," he said with a small head bow. He made to leave again, and again Mara stopped him. She put a hand on his shoulder and leaned in.
  "And thank you for--" she said quietly, then rethought her words. "I didn't think anyone heard me earlier. They all work very hard, and... we were interrupting them for this, and... Well, that's all. I just wanted to thank you for honoring that."
  "Your Highness," he said, cocking an eyebrow, "I always hear you." He then took his leave before she could say any more.

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

  The common citizenry of Gildern was not expected to queue around the land to pay homage to their new Princess, but the uncommon citizenry was - or rather, they expected it for themselves. They expected the privilege of seeing the new royal baby up close. So there was a mid-day banquet in Isabel's honor, attended by the local aristocracy and the court's lingerers. Heather gave her Lady her fastest hair arrangement yet and made certain her clothing was just so. Mara just wanted to return to bed.
  There was some kerfuffle between her and the family after she insisted that Isabel be behind her during the meal, in the royal cradle, and so within reach if needed. The family - mostly the King and Queen - argued that she would remain with Miss Daphne until the meal was finished, and then be brought out for presentation.
  "Dearest," said Kelvin, his arm around her, "What do you wish? I'll support whatever you decide."
  "It..." she said, looking one to the other, then sighing. "It is just during the meal. Yes, Father. Mother Queen. I will... She will remain with Miss Daphne until ready."
  That settled, there was nothing else but for the new parents to briefly gush over Isabel and bandy words like "angel" about to describe her, before kissing her tiny hand and forehead and cheeks and sending her away with Miss Daphne. Or rather, not before Mara quietly ordered the nanny to fetch her immediately if needed, royal propriety be damned. Miss Daphne responded in the affirmative and took her leave.

  The meal was not interrupted, though Mara expected it at any moment and had trouble relaxing. She kept glancing in the direction of the other room where Miss Daphne cared for her daughter, and sometimes tried to listen for cries. If anyone noticed her unease, no one spoke. Then the King stood and announced that the new Princess would be brought out for viewing. Miss Daphne was summoned and brought Isabel to Mara, who was again too nervous to hold her steadily in front of all those people. Kelvin had the honor of holding her up to their guests. Mara noticed that those of lesser rank than royalty began to kneel. She felt a chill. Scarcely out of her womb and her child was already commanding fealty. But she recognized that this was not the time or place for her to make an objection.
  The new mother and father were seated on either side of Isabel's cradle. Guests knew who was who, and organized themselves to approach from highest to lowest rank. Guest reactions ranged from delighted cooing to polite acknowledgment. Kelvin and Mara did their best to reciprocate with at least the same level of energy as their guests. Miss Daphne was always nearby, ready to intervene in case the little Princess became inconsolable for any reason. This needed to be done once during Duke Wilford's and Dutchess Ruth's viewing. Mara followed Miss Daphne from the room before the King and Queen could prevent it. She learned that it was not her breasts that Isabel needed, but a change of clothing. Now she knew three things about her daughter's care: how to feed, burp and change her.
  Lucinda's friendship with Mara did not gain her a sooner place in the queue, but the Countess did not seem to mind. Count Richard congratulated the royal couple heartily and conversed with Kelvin, while Mara stood and hugged and kissed her Countess friend and made promises for tea soon. Lucinda had been away for most of Mara's pregnancy, and Mara was eager to learn what she'd been up to. Mara's smile was broad as the sea, but diminished some upon noticing that Lucinda was unexpectedly in the "polite acknowledgment" group. It was then that Mara noticed a certain... sadness? behind her eyes. Now they really needed to have tea soon.
  Of all people, the Countess Yvette, on her own husband's arm, arrived to pay perfunctory, but polite, respects. When she turned to leave, Mara called to her and stood up. She smiled and pointed subtly.
  "I beg your pardon," she said, leaning closer to the perplexed Countess, "But when I see you from the side, it looks like-- Well, would you happen to be-?" She held her hand out a few inches from her belly.
  The Countess finally understood. "Oh!" she said, and nodded.
  Mara's smile all but lit the room now. She clasped her hands together in delight. "Oh, Countess, congratulations!" she gushed. "May I ask how far along?"
  "Yes, congratulations," added Kelvin, standing up to shake her husband's hand.
  "Uh..." she said, still mildly puzzled. She glanced at her husband and Kelvin before replying. "About four months. Your Highness."
  "Oh, how wonderful!" said Mara. "Your first?"
  The Countess had been in profile all the while, then finally, slowly, turned toward the Princess. "Yes," she said, a hint of a smile forming. "Our first. Your Highness."
  Mara could not help putting a friendly hand on her shoulder. The Countess glanced at it, then returned her attention to the Princess.
  "I'm so happy for you," said Mara. "For both of you. From both of us." She pointed to herself and Kelvin. "I hope your child brings you nothing but happiness. And perhaps, since they'd be close in age, wouldn't that be grand if our children ended up friends?"
  Her husband agreed aloud while the Countess seemed at a loss for words. Finally she seemed to come to a decision, then spread her dress and made a slow, deep curtsey. She spoke while dipping. "That would be grand, indeed." She spoke again after rising and looking Mara in the eyes. "Your Highness. Thank you."
  After the two departed, the royal couple sat again and prepared to receive more visitors. Mara felt Kelvin's eyes on her. She looked his way to confirm this, then shrugged. "What?"
  "Nothing," he said, allowing a smile. "Or rather, you do remember that Countess Yvette was one of the women that I turned down, don't you?"
  "Yes," said Mara, nodding. "I met her at our betrothal party. I thought I told you about that?"
  "Mm," he said, "Yes, I remember now. But still... And yet you... Darling, do you know what the word 'guileless' means?"
  She thought for a moment, then shook her head. "'Guyless?' Does it mean something bad?"
  "No," he said. "I'll let you look it up for yourself, then."
  "You won't even give me a clue?" she said, but was interrupted by more visitors for the little Princess.

  Eventually the queue dwindled away, and the guests had resumed mingling with each other, even Lucinda. Even though Mara had been sitting most of the time, it had been tiring for her. Kelvin excused himself from the receiving line so that he, too, could mingle. Mara's preference was to see briefly to Lucinda, then beg her pardon and leave the banquet entirely for much-needed rest, but she perked up after catching some of the female staff sneaking glimpses of the baby as they went about their business. Mara flagged down one of them and gave her silent permission to view Isabel. And just like that, the rest of the women took this opportunity to gather around and behold the child up close. They giggled and cooed and chittered and chattered. Mara felt her energy returning, and smiled and laughed again. The Queen noticed this and began winding her way through the guests. She arrived as her daughter-in-law was standing up to hug a three-month-pregnant serving girl. The chattering stopped as all made their dips to the Queen.
  "Oh, Mother Queen," said Mara, beaming, "Marian here is with her second child!" She turned to Marian and took her hand. "I hope that your work has been lightened because of this? It must be quite tir-"
  "Princess Mara," said the Queen, "Your attention to our servants is admirable, but they do have work to get back to."
  The workers dipped again and offered overlapping apologies before making a hasty retreat.
  Mara masked her dismay by keeping up a smile. "Mother Queen, I was still speaking with them," she said. "Surely there's no sin in a five-minute rest from work?"
  The Queen hmphed and spoke in a low tone. "I don't suppose you realize what it looks like for you to greet servants as if old friends, while looking barely awake for our honored guests?"
  "Barely...? But Mother Queen, I have been greeting our guests. Warmly. Kelvin was beside me all the while; you could ask him how I behaved. Lucinda and I are long overdue for a gathering, and I was quite pleased to see Countess Yvette again, and with a husband, and with child! Did you notice?"
  "Mara-"
  "That makes at least two women here with child," she said. "I feel like... like we should be celebrating them, as well. Don't you think?"
  "I should think not."
  "Wh-- But why not?"
  "This is our celebration," said the Queen. "They will surely have their own when the time comes. Now is Princess Isabel's presentation to the upper classes. She was already presented to the lower class."
  Mara felt her eyes narrowing, then made sure to keep them wide, or at least "normal" for the Queen.  "I... Mother Queen, I was not aware that we were discriminating here against who may view my child," she said. "It is duly noted. I was in error in sharing our joy with anyone willing to receive it."
  The Queen narrowed her own eyes, subtly. "I'm not sure that I like your tone," she said.
  "My tone?" said the Princess. "I thought my tone has been unwavering."
  "Your words, then," she said. "Child, my only desire here is to remind you to always be aware of your surroundings. Of whom you're among, and what their needs are."
  "...You are most gracious to remind me," said Mara. "Mother Queen."
  A young Duchess approached demurely. She dipped to them both, then begged their indulgence to view the little Princess once again. After a pause that stopped just short of being awkward, Mara smiled broadly and assured the Duchess that it was her pleasure.
  Until now Isabel had been resting in her cradle. Mara carefully retrieved the sleepy little girl and held her for the doting Duchess. But after mere seconds of cooing, Isabel began squirming, and finally belted out a mighty bout of tears. The Duchess stepped back and apologized as if she were the cause. Mara turned to call for Miss Daphne, but she was already at Mara's side, offering to take Isabel away.
  "Is it me?" said Mara. "Am I holding her wrong?"
  "Surely not, your Highness," said Miss Daphne. "Don't worry; I'll see to her needs. She'll be fine."
  "Please," said Mara, "Do bring her next door. I'll be there presently." She reached out to the Duchess. "Oh, Duchess, it's nothing you did, I'm sure. I do hope you'll excuse me. I'm just going to see to what's troubling her." The Duchess dipped again and returned to the party. Mara turned to the Queen and dipped quickly. "Mother Queen, I'll be back soon."
  She made to leave, but the Queen caught her hand. Not tightly, but firmly enough that it made Mara pause and look back at her. She glanced at her hand a few times as if trying to decide whether to yank it free. The Queen spoke again in low tones.
  "This is yet another lesson for you to learn, child," she said. "The nanny knows to come for you, if Isabel needs you. We have a nanny, and nurses, for just this reason. They are all here to look after Isabel. So unless she returns, you're free to meet your other obligations."
  "Other...obligations?"
  "Yes," said the Queen, gesturing to the whole room. "To your guests. To your peers. You are their hostess, child. Remember that."
  "They have been fed," said Mara. "We have music and games. They have all seen her up close and spoken to me and Kelvin. We have been gracious and friendly with them all. He's out there now, being their 'host.' When I've seen to Isabel, I plan to return and see Lucinda again, and possibly Yvette, if she's no longer detesting me. And any other 'peers' who wish to engage me. But not before Isabel has been tended to."
  The Queen sighed in frustration. "Child, when will you learn to balance your obligations? Your priorities?"
  Mara was lost in thought. In her mind her own admonition to staff and assistants echoed: Stand up straight, look me in the eye, and... She would never call the Queen "Lily," but slowly, she looked the Queen full in the face. She straightened, slowly, to her full height, adding at least two inches from the usual slouch that she utilized around those shorter than she, including the Queen. It was possible that this was the first time the Queen had seen the Princess stand this tall. Her eyes widened just a bit in surprise, then subsided.
  Mara's voice was the calm before a storm. "Your Majesty," she said. "You are keeping me from my daughter." Then she was perfectly still.
  The Queen intended to make a reply, but had none to make. She simply let go of Mara's hand without any words. Mara, also without words, let her hand drop, and waited. Eventually the Queen cleared her throat and waved toward the next room.
  "Why are you standing there?" she said. "My granddaughter needs you. She needs her mother. Go."
  Mara stepped back and executed a perfect curtsey before turning and walking confidently, but quickly, towards her child.


  Kelvin knocked on the door of the room where his wife was last seen. Miss Daphne opened it just a bit, using her body to block any views. Kelvin could easily see over her head, though, and did not need to be told that the Princess was inside, nursing their daughter. Mara heard his voice and gave permission to enter before Miss Daphne could even ask. She had her back to the door - her bare back, in fact - which annoyed him. Her current gowns and dresses only opened from the back, so she and Miss Daphne had had to flip down her entire top in order to uncover her breasts for Isabel.
  Kelvin removed his cloak and draped it over her shoulders, then sat beside her and put an arm around her to keep it in place. "Why didn't you give her a blanket or some other covering?" he asked the nanny pointedly.
  "Forgive me, your Highness," she said. "I have been trying to find one, but there seems to be none here, and then you... er..."
  "Don't be angry with her, Dearest," said Mara. "The room is warm enough, anyway. It's all right, Miss Daphne."
  "Hm," he grunted, then returned his attention to his two ladies. This was the first time he had seen Mara nursing their daughter, and it took no time for him to get lost in the scene. Mara looked his way and smiled. Their eyes met, and they kissed several times before hearing Miss Daphne quietly clearing her throat.
  She had come over to stand in front of them but was actively averting her eyes. "Your Highness," she said quietly, "I will wait for you just outside. You need only call out, and I would be back in an instant."
  "Oh? You needn't do that," said Mara. "You may stay if you wish."
  "I... Well, you two are... Clearly you're-"
  "Thank you, Nanny," said Kelvin. "We'll call you if needed."
  Miss Daphne dipped to them both, then left without another word. Mara waited for the door to shut behind the nanny before speaking. "Sorry," she said. "I wasn't thinking."
  Kelvin grinned, then leaned closer for more kisses. He managed to stop himself before trying to make even more children right then and there, and made himself sit up straight. He resumed draping his arm around her and watching and listening to Isabel's suckling.
  "What does that feel like?" he asked.
  "Ohhh," she said, "Calming. And relaxing. It especially helps now. For instance, Mother Queen: is she still upset with me?"
  "Not that I'd noticed," he said. "But she did ask me to check on you. How... upset are we talking about? I saw you two speaking, but you didn't seem angry."
  "We were both hiding it well, I suppose," she said, shrugging.
  Kelvin furrowed his brow. "I don't think I like that," he said. "I won't hear of my two favorite mothers at each other's throats."
  Mara scoffed. "Oh, it wasn't like that," she said. "I just.. I'll never understand why it offends her so when I'm friendly with the staff."
  "Ohh, that," he said. "She said something about that to me. How embarrassing it was to the other guests to see you having fun with the server girls. Was that it?"
  "I suppose," she grumbled. "And were they 'embarrassed?' Were our guests shaken to their cores to see servants enjoying themselves in their presence?"
  "Not shaken," he said. "Stirred. There was a bit of, ah, clucking. 'Oh, what was her Highness doing?' 'Oh, how vulgar!' That sort of thing."
  Isabel pulled away from her breast, so Mara took that moment to show Kelvin her expertise in burping and switching breasts for a proper meal. He rubbed her arm, they shared more kisses, and she returned to brooding.
  "Are you upset with me, too?" she asked.
  "Why, do I seem it?" he said. She shrugged. "I'm not. Presenting a good image is important to Mother. And Father, but to a lesser extent. He may run the kingdom, but she runs the castle, so is used to everything being 'just so.' "
  Mara sighed. "I'm doing the best I can, Darling," she said. "I don't do what I do, expecting to 'embarrass' anyone. I can think of no reason not to treat everyone with respect, not just the rich and powerful. Is this wrong?"
  "Not at all."
  She sighed again. " 'Clucking,' hm?" she said, then scoffed. " 'Vulgar.' Really. They should all be used to me by now, Kelvin. I used to care, but now... it's so pointless. I no longer care. I.. I will treat everyone with respect no matter their rank or standing, and they should know that it's the way things are here. I will learn people's names and I will speak to them as... as people and not as beasts of burden. And if they must cluck about that, they can cluck somewhere else."
  "Well said."
  "And Kelvin," she said, "You know that I love your mother dearly. Not just as my queen and my sovereign, but... she's as close to a mother as I've ever had, though I will always keep my true mother close in my heart."
  "I know."
  "For my own mother, for Cassandra, I want to honor her by raising Isabel the best that I can, in her name. I want to be here for her, whenever she needs me. I need Miss Daphne, but to assist me with Isabel, not to be me."
  "I know."
  "But..." she said, "Dear Kelvin, please know that I say this with the deepest respect, but Mother Queen... she keeps pushing me to be a woman that I don't want to be. That I cannot be. And... I only wish she would accept that. Accept that I am a commoner and a Princess, and that will not change. I don't want it to change."
  "I know."
  "You keep saying that," she said. "Are you listening?"
  "Every word," he said, kissing her cheek. "There's just been nothing else to say. But I haven't finished telling you what happened."
  "Oh," she said. "Please forgive me. I... did go on, didn't I?"
  "No worries," he said. "It's a good thing Isabel is here to calm and relax you." He winked. "Imagine the chaos if she weren't??"
  Mara looked down to stifle her laugh, but then smiled as she met his gaze. "You're mocking me," she said. "But for once, I don't mind it."
  "Hm," he said, stealing a kiss. She allowed the theft. "Do you want to know what Mother said to me? And to Father?"
  "Is it bad?"
  "I'll let you decide," he said. "She said that, just before you left to come here to Isabel, she saw you, standing tall. Proud. Regal. And absolutely fearless. She said that you looked like... a Queen."
  Mara started to laugh in disbelief, but it caught in her throat when she looked at Kelvin. There was no mischief in his face. No impish smile nor hint of a wink. Only unabashed pride. She furrowed her brow ever so slightly.
  "Me?"
  "You," he said. "Before her eyes, you became our next Queen."
  "Well, I..." she said quietly, glancing here and there, unable to focus on anything for more than a second. "I just wanted to come here. To... be with Isabel, and... she wouldn't let me, and..."
  "Courage comes from strange places," he said. "You'll become a 'Queen' again, Darling. More and more often, until it will be as natural to you as if you'd been born to it."
  She pondered this, then slowly let her head rest against his shoulder. "As long as you're my King," she said.

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

  The food, drink and party favors were stowed away, the baby was put down for the night, the moon was high and shining, and the cool, night air was blowing softly across the Prince and Princess in their bed. The day was done. Mara had her arm draped across his chest. She kissed his shoulder.
  "Was this all one day?" she said.
  "I think so," said Kelvin. "Tired, dearest?"
  "Beyond all reason," she said, closing her eyes. "How did that happen? I've done not a lick of real work today, but am spent. Didn't I... didn't I say some time ago that I didn't want a life of luxury and idleness?"
  "I vaguely recall that," he said. "Very well: tomorrow, you'll start washing out latrines again. And haul filled water jugs around the castle, without spilling a drop. For old-time's sake."
  She smiled and hummed. "Only if you're there with me. Kenneth."
  "Yes," he said. "I'll be supervising."
  She chuckled. "Well," she said, "Until I give up my life of indulgence, do you mind if I just sleep tonight, and forgo any nightly pleasure? I need time to heal, I'm afraid. I am willing, but my body says no."
  "Rest well, and get well," he said.
  "Mmmm..."
  A near-perfect silence followed. Mara was asleep in seconds, her breathing already slow and deep. He loved the gentle warming of his neck and shoulders from her
  -KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK-
  "-waaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-"
  Kelvin sat up in bed so quickly, Mara's arm was tossed aside, the momentum almost turning her onto her back. Like him she was jolted awake. They squinted in the darkness towards the noise coming from the other side of their door. A baby's cry, muffled. Isabel.
  -KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK-
  "-aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-"
  Kelvin climbed out of bed and bade Mara to stay behind. He fumbled for his robe that was easy to find when there was enough light, but not now. A hand on his shoulder startled him, but of course it was only his wife, disobeying his order to stay in bed. She had retrieved her own robe but was too tired to bother closing it all the way.
  Kelvin fussed with her robe as she swayed tiredly. He opened the door a crack, allowing Isabel's cries to fill the room and not just the hallway. "-AAAAAAAAAAAAAA-" Miss Daphne, in her own robe, peered at him contritely. Kelvin sighed and opened the door enough for both of them to see.
  "I beg your Highness' pardon," she said, "But the Princess Isabel needs to be fed!"
  He felt Mara leaning against him now. They exchanged exhausted looks.

  Mara spent a good portion of the visit explaining to her vexed husband that the nanny had standing orders to seek her out first for feedings, and that wet nurses were a last option only. The nanny assured the Prince that Isabel would be sleeping through the night soon enough. As soon as three months, perhaps. Or six. Or nine. Or twelve, Heaven forbid. Or-

The Pauper Prince - Part 29

The Pauper Prince
Chapter 29

  There was a loud, piercing noise in her dream that seemed to come from nowhere. She spent a few moments of dreamtime trying to locate it and stop it before it drove her mad, when she was shaken awake by Heather. Mara was disoriented and flailed a bit, only not so much this time to cause her assistant to flee the room in terror. Besides, she no longer had a sword to wave about.
  The loud, piercing noise was... Isabel, crying to shake the walls.
  "Ahhh!" said Mara, sitting up with Heather's assistance. "Ahh, what's wrong? Is she hurt?"
  She heard the thumping of someone running downstairs, and suddenly Adrienne was there. She was wearing different clothing. Sleeping clothes, from the look of it. It took Mara a few moments to realize that she was still in the midwife's birthing room. Somehow she had gotten to the bed, or had been carried to it. The morning sun was starting to light up the room.
  Adrienne was stooped over the cradle already and removing Isabel to examine her.
  "Is she hurt?" shouted Mara over the wailing.
  "No!" she shouted back. "Hungry!" She sat beside Mara while holding the child. "Heather, help her!"
  "Do what?" yelled Heather.
  "Help her open her robe!" shouted Adrienne.
  "Oh, wait, wait!" cried Mara. "I'm supposed to have a wet nurse! Right? A wet nurse?"
  "If you have one picked out and waiting outside, then yes!" shouted Adrienne.
  "My friend said that they're easy to find!" yelled Mara. "That practically any woman could!"
  "Perhaps they may be plucked from trees where your friend lives," yelled Adrienne, "But in here, you're the only one equipped to feed her!"
  "Are you sure?" yelled Mara. "Heather, what about you?"
  "Me??" shouted Heather. "I'm not the one who just had a child!"
  "My Lady, please!" yelled Adrienne, holding Isabel closer to her. "You can't possibly be enjoying her song?"
  "No!" said Mara. "No, I am not!"
  "Then here! Take her and bring her to your breast! Heather! Help her with her robe!"
  "But how do I-?" yelled Mara, taking the shrieking child awkwardly. "I've never-- How do I know I have anything for her?"
  "Here's how you find out!" yelled Adrienne, and gave instructions to the terribly nervous Princess. Heather tugged at Mara's robe to expose a breast, and as soon as the banshee known as Princess Isabel's mouth found its mark, there was peace at last. A near-silence, save for a quiet suckling.
  The women, all as one, sighed, leaned back against the wall, and enjoyed the silence. Then Mara let her head loll forward, and found herself unable to look away from the sight of this... tiny creature, attached to her and somehow receiving nourishment.
  All three of the women watched the same maternal scene. Finally, Adrienne broke the silence, but quietly. "How does it feel?"
  Mara kept her eyes on the child while speaking. "More soothing than I expected. Calming. I lack the words to describe any more. Am I doing this right?"
  "Absolutely."
  "I wonder if she can see this," said Mara, whether to herself or the others, it was difficult to say.
  "If who can?" asked Heather.
  "Hm?" said Mara quickly, as if yanked from her thoughts. "Oh... Um... Please don't laugh, but... I wonder if my mother can see this. If she... watches me at all."
  "I'm certain that she does," said Adrienne. "From heaven above, your mother and father must be watching you and-"
  "Not my father," she said, her mouth tightening. "Not him."
  "I beg your pardon; I meant no offense."
  Mara came out of her brooding and looked to each of her friends. "None received," she said, and watched the child's suckling some more. "I wonder if she got the chance to do this."
  "Unlikely," said Adrienne, "I don't mean to cast gloom, m'Lady, but if she was-- cut open, as you say... Unlikely."
  Mara nodded slowly. The room was quiet again. Then: "So..." she said, "Isabel is really--" She looked to Adrienne. "I'm the one feeding her? Right now?"
  Adrienne nodded and smiled.
  "How do I know there's... anything for her to eat? Or is it drink?"
  Adrienne straightened up, then stretched and yawned. "Ah," she said. "Well, I think by now she'd let us all know. But there is a way to be sure. Um... if I may?"
  "All right," said Mara absently. Adrienne cupped her hands around the Princess' other breast. "What are you-?"
  Adrienne squeezed gently, and first a dribble, then a short stream shot out. Mara yelped and shrank back. "Ahh! What! What was that?" She had unintentionally pulled away from Isabel, who began moaning plaintively. Mara guided the girl's mouth back into place, while Adrienne quickly used her sleeve to bat gently around the area and clean up the mess.
  "Forgive me," she said. "I was just trying to see if you're 'dry,' which of course you are not."
  "That's... fine," said Mara, then grumbled, "You could have warned me or something."
  Heather giggled, and was silenced by her Lady's Look. Then after a few tense moments, the Look became a sweet smile. Heather sighed in relief.
  From the other side of the castle grounds, the chapel bells were heard ringing.
  "I didn't know it was Sunday," said Mara.
  "It's not," said Heather. "They toll for your child."
  Mara eyed her quizzically, then nodded in comprehension. "Ah, yes. The fussing is renewed."
  "Well, she is a newborn Princess," said Adrienne. "And so the whole kingdom will celebrate."
  Mara resumed watching her child feed. "They should be celebrating you," she said, and looked at Adrienne on the last word.
  Adrienne smiled and nodded, then became puzzled. "You're... speaking to your child, yes?"
  "No," said Mara. "You. The one who saved her. The one who... broke the curse of those women who-"
  "No," said Adrienne, shaking her head vigorously. "No. No, no, no. Forgive me, m'Lady, but... No."
  "But why?" said Mara. "Why reject any praise? What you did truly was a miracle. This is something you could teach others. You could... could save other mothers and their children. You saved me, Adrienne. I have no words... None for what you've done."
  " 'Thank you?' " she offered.
  "No, thank you," said Mara.
  "That's what I meant," she said. "But scarcely that. You forget that I... Others before you, I did not save. If I had-- only thought of it then, more might have lived. Perhaps they... all... might have lived." Her voice gained a waver towards the end.
  "You cannot blame yourself-"
  "Why not?" she said. "Their lives were in my hands. In my hands... m'Lady, and... I lost them. I knew... every one of them. Their husbands. Their kin. The... looks on their faces when they realized what was about to happen." She shut her eyes and held a fist to her mouth. After a long pause, she sighed loudly and opened her eyes. "Yes, to atone, I shall teach what I know, in the hopes that others might live, under the same circumstances."
  "There you go," said Mara, smiling.
  "But the bells must celebrate you and your child, not me. Please; do not exalt me."
  The women were quiet again. Even the bells finished their joyful song, leaving only the infant's soft suckling to be heard. Mara looked to Adrienne again. "I still want to repay you somehow," she said. "Is there no gesture of gratitude you would accept? If it's within my power."
  Adrienne thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Send more business?"
  Mara scoffed. "You're going to be stubborn, I see."
  "No, no, I really do want more business. You know, for making a living."
  Mara smiled. "I'll see what I can do," she said. "But I'm forgetting the others. Dear Heather, I would have been utterly lost without you."
  "Oh, you tease, m'Lady."
  "Only gently," she said. "Really, other than my husband, there's no one else I'd want with me for this." Heather's cheeks turned as red as her hair. "Where are the others? Asleep?"
  Adrienne yanked a thumb at the ceiling. "Annabelle had better be," she said. "She needs to cover for me today. I'll be abed soon. But not before her burping."
  Mara smiled, then watched Isabel, who was pulling away from her breast and grunting quietly. "Wait, her what?"
  "I'll show you." Adrienne carefully took the little Princess and helped the big Princess properly burp her. Afterwards she made a little flourish with her hands. "Her burping."
  Mara switched Isabel to her other breast to resume the feeding. "Her burping."
  Adrienne held up her hands. "Welcome to motherhood. There's nothing more elegant." She was only a little disappointed that the Princess did not laugh or even smile at her joke. The Princess furrowed her brow as if it had been a serious statement.
  "I wonder if this is the 'drudgery' that my friend speaks of," she said, then perked up. "She has all sorts of helpers for herself and her children. She says that they handle the 'drudgery' while she enjoys the 'fun' parts of her children. Do you know that we've also found a nanny? Or when I say 'we,' I really mean the Queen. I haven't met her yet, but she does come highly recommended by the families she's cared for. She has many years of experience, then. Named... mm, Daphne, I think. And I think she's arriving tomorrow. Or is that today? Anyway, she sent us letters of recommendation and from them, seems kind. She reminds me of you."
  "Because I seem kind?"
  "Because..." said Mara, then blushed. "Oh, I meant -- You are kind, of course. I was referring to her experience. She may be the same age as you? I-I'm sure she knows far more than I about children. What do you think? Should I have a nanny? Nannies, even? Should I use a wet nurse?"
  "It is hardly my place to say."
  "But I respect your opinion," said Mara. "Really, I don't pretend to know... well, anything. What do you think, Adrienne? Even you, Heather. I won't discount anyone at this point."
  "I wouldn't know, either," said Heather. "I have no experience at all at such things."
  "I will say this, m'Lady," said Adrienne. "I will not advise, nor will I suggest. I will only make this observation. I suspect that there's not a woman - mother, that is - in the world who would not welcome her own assistant - her own servant - for her children. Whether she has one child or ten!" She chuckled, then was serious again. "I don't blame your friend for shying away from the 'drudgery.' There is much drudgery to this. They cry." She gestured to Isabel. "They fuss. They get dirty. They get sick. They fight. They get injured. They disobey. They get angry and claim to 'hate' you. As infants like her, they get more food on their mouths and clothing than inside their bellies. Do you see my point?"
  Mara rolled her eyes. "You make this sound so delightful."
  "I know; don't I?" said Adrienne with a grin. She patted Mara's arm. "My point, if there is one to be made, is that, even with all the things I list above, you are still-- with the child. It probably doesn't make sense to you now, but it might, and I hope sooner than later. While being cleaned and changed, she could just as likely look up at you with love in her eyes, and a smile and a laugh, as she could be screaming her throat raw for reasons known only to herself. Now, I speak only for myself, but it made that smile and laugh the sweetest thing in the world. Now... you are a woman of means, and can have the help of many available to you, but it is you, of course, who decides how much of it you truly need."
  Mara was quiet as she considered her words. Once again Isabel began pulling away, signaling that her feeding was complete. She looked to Adrienne, who nodded as confirmation to burp the child again. She did so, then brought her legs together and raised her knees to make a slant for Isabel to lay upon. Her eyes were open now. Mother and child locked gazes, and there was no looking away for either of them. Mara brought her hand closer to stroke her face, when Isabel reached up and gripped one of her fingers. Mara paused in surprise, then fell into a joyful smile. She shared it with her two friends.
  "Look at this!" she gushed. "Do you see? One whole hand for just one of my fingers! Have you ever seen such a thing?"
  "Never, m'Lady," said Adrienne.
  Mara grinned at her, then went back to cooing and giggling and tugging gently against the child's grip.
  "Oh, wait," she said to Adrienne. "You were teasing, weren't you? Of course you've seen this before."
  Adrienne shrugged. "Don't mind my bit of fun, m'Lady. What I've seen doesn't matter. It only matters that you have never seen it before."
  "These are the moments she must mean," said Mara, suddenly contemplative. "My friend, that is. The 'fun' parts."
  "As I said," said Adrienne, "I give no advice or suggestions. For myself, in time there was no difference between the two, this 'drudgery' versus 'fun.' Time with my children was -- is, rather -- its own reward. That's all I have for you."
  "You think I should not have a nanny, then."
  "I have not said that."
  "Heather?" said Mara. "What do you think?"
  Heather gave her reply much thought. "I must work," she said. "But for you, the work is light, yet... still fulfilling. You are a joy to work for. There are days when I cannot believe my good fortune."
  "Oh, for goodness' sake, stop that," said Mara, but not harshly. "And what is this to do with a nanny?"
  "Well, it's true," she said. Then off her Lady's look of disbelief: "I think that you will need a nanny. I do. But like me, you will work with her and... make her work light, but joyful."
  Mara scoffed. "All right, all right," she said. "In truth, even if I were against any help, my family wouldn't have it. I will have a nanny and... possibly nurses, wet or dry, whether I'd want any or not. But I accept that. Mostly because I know that I know nothing about taking care of a child."
  "You know how to feed and burp one," said Adrienne with a shrug.
  Mara did acknowledge that joke with a little smile. "But really, Heather," she said, "You make me seem like some sort of... saintly person, which I am not. I'm not a-"
  "Princess of the People?" offered Heather.
  Mara groaned. "What? No," she said. "Wait, did you hear that from Mother Queen? She's called me that before, but I think she was being... ah, what's the word? Facetious."
  Heather shrugged. "I think the Queen heard it from us."
  "Us?"
  "Oh, you know," she said. "The servants? The staff? The assistants? The people you go out of your way to be kind to? Even during that strange time when you were forbidden to be close to us, you still found ways to show kindness."
  Mara thought of more protests, but had trouble finishing them. "Well, that's just... People aren't just walking about and calling me... I-I'm just trying not to be..." The words faded away, and she became quiet and serious. She was surprised by the moistening of her eyes and the catch in her throat. "They really call me that?" she whispered. "And mean it? Not to make light? Not to mock?"
  "How could you think it's to mock?" said Heather. "Don't be silly."
  Adrienne made an indignant sound. "Don't call her Highness 'silly,' you... silly girl!"
  "She can call me whatever she likes," Mara sniffled.
  "Oh, that's-- Are you crying?" Heather was greatly concerned.
  "Oh..." said Mara, wiping at her eyes, "I'm sure it's just those... intensified feelings that come and go when bearing a child. Right, Adrienne?"
  "Mara," said Heather, her voice wavering now, too, "I didn't mean to make you cry. I thought you knew all this. I thought you knew how much the people here love you."
  'Intensified feelings' or not, now her Lady wept loudly and openly. Heather was swept right in, and even Adrienne was not entirely immune to the wave of tears spilling in the room.
  "What's the matter with me??" bawled the Princess. "I-I must be overtired. Spent. It's making me gush like my own little girl! And I...I want her to be Princess People.. of the... of the... Prin... I want her to be kind, too-oo-oooo!!" The last word was drawn out haltingly by renewed tears. That was Isabel's cue to join the chorus, but because of the noise, not the emotions being shared.
  "Ohhh, noooo," said Mara, picking up Isabel and holding her over her shoulder. She looked to Adrienne, who nodded through her own tears to approve of her efforts to calm the child.
  It was while all four of the females were in tears that the soft thudding of feet on the stairs heralded Annabelle, who was also clad in sleeping clothes.
  "Mother?" she said sleepily. "I've been hearing-" She gasped. "Oh, no! What's happened?"
  "Annabelle-" said Adrienne.
  She gasped again and covered her mouth. "Is it the baby?? Please say it isn't the baby!!" With that, her imagination went wild, and she joined the tearful harmonies immediately.
  "Oh, for goodness' sake, you, too?" said Adrienne, resuming control of her tears through force of will. "It's not the baby."
  "I'm sorry, Mother, but it looked like-- like-!"
  "Little Isabel is fine, dear Annabelle," said Mara, wiping at her own tears. "Thank you for your concern. We were-"
  The curtain to Adrienne's birthing room was swept aside, and the Prince rushed in, wearing a frantic expression.
  "What's going on??" he said. "I heard loud tears-- Oh no!! What's happened?? Mara?? Isabel??"
  "The baby's fine, your Highness!" said Annabelle. "It only looks like-!"
  "Annabelle, please," said Adrienne. "Do wait upstairs." Annabelle was reluctant to comply, but ultimately did so without protest, adding dips to the respective Highnesses before returning upstairs.
  "Why is everyone crying??" said the Prince, already in front of his wife and child. She was still comforting their daughter.
  "It's nothing," she said, her tears subsiding into sniffles. "I was just being... silly, and I'm afraid that everyone was drawn into it. Heather said such a sweet thing to me, and... I... Off I went! We're all just so very tired, I suppose."
  "You didn't get any sleep?" said Kelvin, putting a hand on Isabel's back. Her tears were almost subsided, as well. Her moans and gurglings were becoming quiet.
  "At least a few hours, yes, m'Lady?" said Adrienne. Mara just shrugged.
  At the same time Adrienne and Heather remembered their royal manners, and clambered off the bed to stumble into dips for the Prince. He was too engrossed in taking the little Princess into his arms and helping the big Princess onto her feet to notice. "Can you walk?" he asked quietly. She nodded quickly. Adrienne stepped in to help her straighten up, then stepped back and made another dip.
  "Congratulations to you both, your Highnesses," she said. "I hope that my services were to your satisfaction?"
  Mara watched her for signs of jesting, and found none, but laughed, anyway, and pulled the midwife into a one-handed hug - she was habitually keeping her other hand at the base of her belly - and finished with a kiss to her temple. Adrienne was blushing when they parted, but maintained her dignity. The Prince asked the Princess to retrieve a pouch from his belt, which she did and handed to Adrienne. The midwife accepted the bag with gratitude, then paused in mild surprise, for it felt a bit heavier than she had expected.
  Mara did not recognize the middle-aged woman by the curtain, nor did she know how long she'd been there. The woman then spread her skirt and dipped to her with the confidence of years of practice. "Good morning, your Highness," she said. "I am Miss Daphne, her Highness Princess Isabel's new nanny. I am here and ready to serve."
  "Oh!" said Mara, and was momentarily at a loss for words. "...Hello! I thought that you were arriving tomorrow?" she said, looking to her husband.
  "'Tomorrow' was yesterday evening, my sweet," he said, winking. "I can see how you might have lost track of time."
  Daphne stepped forward and offered to carry the infant Princess for the royal couple. Mara bade her to pause from leaving the room so she could introduce her to all others present. Daphne gave a polite head nod to each woman, but offered no smiles. The Prince then insisted that they take their leave and ride in the royal coach for the very short trip back to the castle proper. Mara was not inclined this time to insist on walking.

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

  If asked to recount the events of the previous few hours, Mara would have failed that test. Her mind clouded over during the ride in the coach, remained as such after arriving at the castle, and during the stuff and things that occurred later. Suddenly she was in her bed, staring at the ceiling as the Queen's voice came into focus.
  "-to time, to check on you and ensure your comfort," she said in a seldom-used, but effectively gentle, tone. Mara did not reply, but let her gaze drift lazily until she noticed her husband sitting on the edge of their bed. He grasped one of her hands and shook it affectionately, then stood up to follow his mother from the room.
  "Wait," she said, sitting up. "Where is Isabel? May I see her?"
  The Queen and Kelvin paused. "Mara," said the Queen, "You have been 'seeing' her for the last few hours. Her nanny is caring for her in the nursery. You both need your rest."
  "Oh," she said, wiping the hair from her eyes. A few memories came back. Yes, she had been interacting with Isabel before exhaustion took over. "Oh, that's right. But-- does the nanny know to bring her to me if she's hungry?"
  "There are other women here prepared to feed her on your behalf," said the Queen. "Get some rest."
  "But I know how to feed her," said Mara. "And burp her. I've done both already."
  The Queen sighed, then gave her son a look that spoke to him very clearly. He sprang into action, returning to his wife's side and gently coaxing her to lie down again.
  "Her cradle should be in here," she said, and pointed to the corner of their bed. "Right there, so there's no delay if she needs us."
  "It's why we have a nanny, my sweet," he murmured.
  "Now I wonder if we should," she said. "I was given very good advice, that even the 'bad' times with our children is still time with them. Don't you agree?"
  "Of course, dearest," he said. "And we'll discuss it later. But Isabel is sleeping herself, even now. It's time for you to."
  She closed her eyes and sighed, allowing a small smile afterwards. "I know," she said. "It's so difficult for me right now." Her eyes opened again. "Wait - I've had food and drink lately, yes?"
  "Mara-"
  "Oh, oh, yes, yes," she said, letting them close again. "I have. I remember now."
  "Get some rest." He kissed her hand, then laid it on her belly and began to stand again. She reached out blindly with that same hand.
  "Kelvin..."
  He took her hand if only to stop her from groping about. "Mara, please..."
  "I just want to know..." she said, her voice slurring and fading. " 'f youu think I'llll... beee... good... mo..."
  Her hand loosened, and after waiting a few seconds more for her to finish, he was satisfied that she was finally drifting off to sleep. He peeled her hand off his and laid it back on her belly. He pulled a blanket over her, then added another and watched her pull them both tightly around herself while remaining asleep. His mother was shaking her head as he rejoined her.
  "I don't-"
  "Shhh," he said, finger to lips. His mother was properly chagrined into silence, and led the way from the room. Once outside, he shut the door as slowly and quietly as the hinges allowed.
  "I was only going to say that I don't remember fussing so over any of you," she said. "I certainly didn't have to be ordered to sleep."
  "Of course you didn't, Mother," he said. "And Father has told me stories that don't contradict you in the slightest."
  "Well, that's- What? What has he told you?"
  Kelvin shrugged. "Stories of how... composed and dignified you were, at all times."
  The Queen stared at him, daring him to crack a smile, even just a little. Her son had had far too much practice to lose that game. With a huff, she continued leading them away from the room.
  "I'm going to kill him," she muttered. Behind her, he allowed himself a grin.

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

  A slight clatter woke the Princess from her nap. She opened her eyes and looked about without raising her head, or moving much in general. A familiar figure was glancing back at her and carefully setting up a meal on her side table.
  After completing the task, Heather placed a towel or napkin over her arm and approached her Lady. She smiled at seeing her awake.
  "Gooood morning, Mara!" she said cheerfully.
  Mara sat up on her elbows and blinked a few times. "Morning?" she said to herself, then to Heather: "It was morning when we returned from Adrienne's. Have I only slept a little while? Hm. I thought I was tired enough to sleep a whole day."
  "Er... Well..."
  Mara scoffed. "I have not slept a whole day," she muttered, and looked Heather's way for confirmation. Instead Heather glanced up a bit and hummed. "No," said Mara.
  "You did order me to rest, too," said Heather. "Gave me the whole day to rest up, and I did. Now it is the next morning, and you ought to eat breakfast before it grows too cold."
  Mara was still trying to work out how anyone could possibly allow her to sleep that long, though she did have foggy recollections of her husband joining her during the night, and... daytime visitors drifting in and out and murmuring around her.
  "Ma'am?" said Heather, gesturing to the little table. "Or would you rather I bring it to you so you can continue resting?"
  "Oh, no, no," said Mara, throwing her legs over the side, but then finding the small act of standing more challenging than she had recalled. Heather was at her side in an instant, pulling her Lady to her feet almost single-handedly. She offered an arm, which the Princess took and let herself be guided to the breakfast table.
  "I seem to recall being a mighty warrior at one time in my life," Mara said quietly to herself while Heather poured out some tea.
  "What's that, dear?"
  Mara remembered that it wasn't part of her royally-sanctioned lifestory, and mumbled while shaking her head. "Mmmnothing, nothing," she said, and took her first bite of the day. It was good, as always. Delicious. She gestured to the empty chair, which Heather took as if she'd been waiting for the invitation. She declined any offers to dine, having eaten already. She had only her company to offer.
  "How is-?" said Mara, but was interrupted by a knock at the door.
  "Will you receive visitors?" asked Heather. Mara thought a moment, then shrugged and nodded, so Heather stood, adjusted her clothes, checked her hair, then opened the door slightly. "Mm!" she said, and opened it all the way. Miss Daphne stepped in, giving Heather a slight nod of the head. She was cradling Isabel in her arms.
  Mara's eyes went fully wide, and she tossed down her napkin and stood immediately.
  "Your Highness," said Miss Daphne primly, "I hope that you have rested well? Are you up for a visit from your little Princess?"
  Mara nodded and grunted and reached for her daughter. Miss Daphne executed the transfer of nanny to mother perfectly, then dipped in greeting. Mara finally swallowed the food that had been preventing her from speaking. It didn't matter, as she still did not speak, but moved aside a bit of blanket obscuring Isabel's eye. Mother and daughter were then free to lock gazes. Unconsciously Mara began swaying back and forth a little and humming quietly.
  After a few moments, Heather put a hand on her shoulder. Mara looked up as though woken from sleep. "I'll take my leave now," Heather said quietly. Mara shook her head quickly and finally began forming words again.
  "Mmmmno," she said. "I was hoping you'd stay?"
  "Ah, of course, Mara," said Heather, grinning. Miss Daphne failed to stifle a quiet sigh and eye roll. Mara looked her way a few seconds. A lot could happen in a day, it seemed.
  "Miss Daphne," she said, "Has Isabel been fed?"
  "Oh, yes, your Highness. Every few hours, at least."
  "Ah, that's goo-Really?" said Mara. "That often?"
  "This is expected of newborns, your Highness," said Miss Daphne.
  "Oh," said Mara, and pondered this a moment. "So... they managed to find a wet nurse, then? Or was someone holding her to my breast while I slept?"
  Miss Daphne raised an eyebrow. "I--" she said, confused, then regained her dignity. "That did not occur, your Highness. Nurses were available."
  "Is it time again, then?" said Mara. "I'm quite sore," she groaned, patting under one of her breasts gingerly. She spoke again from the side of her mouth. "I hope she can use some of this."
  "Er... yes, it ought to be near her time again, your Highness," said Miss Daphne. She held Isabel while Mara pulled her robe open without any thought to it. Miss Daphne betrayed the slightest surprise at the casualness of her act, then again regained her dignity.
  Mara pulled out her chair a little and seated herself, took the baby into her arms, then got to the business of nursing. Her timing was good; Isabel took to the nourishment right away, and suckled contentedly. Mara gestured to the empty seat across from her. Miss Daphne clasped her hands in front of herself and shook her head politely.
  "It would not be proper for me to join you, your Highness," she said.
  Mara cleared her throat quietly, then gestured again. "Please," she said. After some more hesitation, the nanny seated herself. "I wish to apologize," said Mara, "For being entirely... unavailable for so long. In retrospect I wonder if I could've been woken earlier. To be here, for her, uninterrupted."
  "Clearly you needed the rest, your Highness," said Miss Daphne, looking her way but just askance enough to avoid eye contact.
  "Yes, well," Mara grumbled, "A whole day, though. I feel as though as I've missed everything. She wouldn't happen to be walking and talking by now, would she?"
  "No, your Highness," said Daphne in all seriousness. "That would be some time from now."
  "Uh..." said Mara, glancing to Heather, "I hope to make up lost time, regardless. Meanwhile... Miss Daphne... you should know something about me. Or perhaps you've been told already, but I'm not the sort who insists on strict protocol or courtesies. I like to encourage those I work with, with these words: Stand up straight, look me in the eye and call me Mara." She and Heather traded warm smiles.
  Miss Daphne forced her own smile, and nodded. "Oh," she said, "Her Highness is most amusing."
  "It's... not a joke," said Mara, but could see that Heather was still amused about something. She was behind Miss Daphne and grinning to beat a cheshire cat. "I encourage others to use my name, but I don't insist on it. I used to, a little, but now I leave it as their choice."
  Miss Daphne straightened up and almost looked her in the eye, but shook her head. "I beg your pardon, your Highness," she said, "But I cannot do that."
  "As you wish," said Mara, nodding. "The offer is before you and will not expire. But the first two items: I'm afraid they're not choices. I do want you standing straight, and I do want you looking me in the eye."
  "I understand, your Highness." She made a better attempt to meet her gaze, but was not quite there yet.
  "My guess is that you were trained and raised to regard people like me as your betters," she said. "But I'm not convinced. Apparently I've become notorious for that sort of thinking, but it's who I am. See, I... I don't like to think of servants as 'servants.' Heather, for instance, I regard as my assistant. An indispensable one. Now... until now, she had been my only assistant. Now I have you, though your true charge is my daughter. I know that your main duty is her care and safety. That said, do you have a preference for a day of rest?"
  "A--?" said Miss Daphne, then seemed at a loss for words. "Your Highness, I beg your pardon, but I don't follow you. I would be attending church during its time on Sunday. Is that what you mean?"
  "I would be, too," said Mara, "But I meant your full day of rest, not just a few hours. Heather rests on Tuesdays and is free to do whatever she likes, then resumes her duties come Wednesday morning. So for practical purposes, it would be good to select a different day. This is something I offer you, is all. I've been trying to set that up for everyone in the castle, but... someone of higher rank than I am disagrees, for now."
  "I have..." said Miss Daphne, scratching her head, "Never heard of such a thing, your Highness. And an infant, well... there is no such thing as 'a day of rest.' Time is meaningless for them."
  "That's what I hear," said Mara. "But I would take on your duties for you on that day. Again, it is something I'm able to offer to my personal assistants. Think about it and let me know. And even for those other days when you're working, I don't expect you to be her sole caretaker. You will be my assistant. Not my substitute."
  "Oh, I assure you, your Highness, in all my years I have never dared to regard myself in that manner. You and his Highness the Prince are her parents, and that is that. I am merely your serv-- assistant, as you say."
  "I didn't mean for it to sound threatening," said Mara. "I only meant that..." She drifted off into thought, then pardoned herself to burp Isabel and switch her to the other breast. During this time Miss Daphne instinctively began reaching out to assist, then made herself be still. The Princess did seem to be performing it all with some confidence.
  Once Isabel was back to suckling contentedly, Mara continued her thought. "I have a friend who... She has many people who care for her children, but I believe that, in her case, they are servants, in every sense of that word. She says that her time with her children is always pleasant, for the others take care of the unpleasantries. The 'drudgeries.' I'm sure you know much more what that entails than I ever would, at least right now. And... I admit that I was very much enamored of having the same thing. But I don't know if there's something different about me, or if I'll see things as she does, but now..." Her words faded. She sighed and shook her head.
  "I don't know anymore," she continued. "I'm not the sort who's ever shied away from work. Even the 'drudgery' kind. So I'm... no longer certain that her way would leave me contented. Miss Daphne... Please don't misunderstand me. I need you. Truly, I do. We do, Isabel and I. But I also want to watch what you do. I want to-- be with her, as much as I can be."
  Miss Daphne finally looked her in the eyes. She seemed to be trying to work out the solution to a puzzle that had none. Finally, she nodded slowly. "I understand, your Highness," she said. "I have served my share of well-born households. Each mother is her own woman and has her own ways. I pride myself on being able to work within any rules, any boundaries, and I will work within yours. But know that there is one boundary of my own, and that is that I cannot work while there are eyes over my shoulder at all times."
  Mara needed a moment to understand what she meant. "Ahh," she said after comprehension. "You might misunderstand me. I want to learn from you, not judge you. I know-" She glanced at her daughter again. "-Almost nothing about her. But I want to learn everything. I'm not proud, Miss Daphne. I'm a blank slate, an open book with no writing. I hope you're willing to... fill it up, and... oh, that's stupid and silly. I'll speak plainly: I want to learn how to care for my child. No matter what it entails."
  Miss Daphne seemed to be lost in thought again. After half a minute she nodded slowly again before looking her new Lady in the eyes. "I can do that, I think, your Highness," she said.
  Mara smiled. A great, big, wide smile that warmed the whole room. Miss Daphne had not seen such a thing from someone in royalty before. She could not yet decide what to make of it. Hopefully not a sign of madness. Yet there was no 'madness' in her eyes. That she could detect, anyway.
  "Thank you so much," the Princess said softly. "But I was wondering..." Miss Daphne straightened up and listened. "Um... Would it be too much trouble for you to consider doing it without... um... calling me 'your Highness' in every sentence?"
  Miss Daphne raised an eyebrow. Heather stifled a snicker.

The Pauper Prince - Part 28

The Pauper Prince
Chapter 28

  "You're going to be all right! You're going to be all right! You're going to be all right!"
  Heather stood at the far end of the birthing table, where she had been told to stand and comfort her Lady to the best of her abilities. This, like her Lady, was the handmaiden's first experience with childbirth. It was daylight when they had arrived at the midwife's; it was now well into the night and counting. Heather's Lady had cried out during a particularly strong contraction, and that had been the handmaiden's chant while rubbing her temples.
  "You are not helping," said Adrienne. "That's just irritating, not calming."
  "Sorry, I have never done this before," protested Heather. "What else should I do?"
  "It's all right, dear," said Mara gently. She was covered in sweat, breathing heavily, in a pain she had never dreamed could be endured, yet was still smiling at her. "This is my first time, too."
  "What do you need from me?" asked Heather, trying to hide any panic in her voice. Mara reached behind herself awkwardly.
  "Just take my hand," she said. Heather clasped the hand and gently stroked its top. Another contraction hit, and Mara squeezed - hard - unintentionally digging in her fingernails. Heather stifled a grunt and shifted side to side in pain, but made no other sound. If her Lady could endure a lot of pain with a smile, she was determined to endure a little even more cheerfully.
  The royal family was waiting next door, in the second midwife's receiving area. Mara and Kelvin had waffled on whether or not he would be in attendance, until Adrienne had decided for them: no men in the birthing room. She did not dislike men so much as their behavior in her birthing room, where they were inclined to refuse to assist, argue with her on techniques, demand that their wives' pain be removed, or most ridiculous of all, demand that the ordeal be sped up to suit their patience, or lack thereof. At least one had dared to vomit all over her floor at the sight of the child coming through. He had otherwise been a strong and manly man. Whether or not the Prince would do any of that was left moot. Finally, a man even wanting to be in the room was a rare occurrence, indeed.
  Annabelle carried a small tub of cool water and set it on Adrienne's work table. She pulled out a wet towel and wringed it to dampness, then used it to wipe Mara's face and neck.
  "Thank you, dear," she said breathlessly.
  "My Lady," said Adrienne, "Remember the breathing I showed you." She demonstrated it until Mara fell into sync with her."That's it," she said. "Now don't give it your all, but try a gentle push, on my count. Ready? 1... 2... 3..."
  Mara shut her eyes and strained. She grunted and groaned, then felt Adrienne patting her belly. "Gently, my Lady. A gentle push."
  "Sorry!"
  "Just relax now," said Adrienne, and began feeling the belly. She pushed in with the side of her hand to lessen the discomfort. "One more time." She held up a finger. "Gently."
  Mara strained again, with less force this time. Adrienne nodded and patted her stomach as the signal to stop. She took a nearby lantern and knelt down to peer between her legs. Glancing at the Princess, then back, she slowly and discreetly placed her hand inside, which was finally wide enough to accommodate, and felt around as carefully as possible.
  "Should I push again?" asked Mara, groaning, but working hard to breathe as she'd been taught.
  "No," said Adrienne distractedly. "Er, not yet, m'Lady." She set aside the lantern and stood, then began pushing on the lower part of her stomach.
  "Oh," said Mara, "It feels like you're-- pushing the baby back in!" She forced a laugh and hoped the other two young women would share it. But Adrienne's expression was completely somber. She glanced at the Princess, then turned away and rubbed her chin.
  "Does anybody know how long we've been here?" said Mara. "How is my family? Does anyone know if they're still waiting?"
  "Hm?" said Adrienne. "I-I don't know. I'm certain that they're still waiting. And you've been here hours, to be sure." She grabbed the lantern again and began to kneel.
  "Adrienne," said Mara. The midwife stopped and finally met her gaze. "What are you doing? Is something troubling you?"
  The midwife could only stare at her. She tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come. Mara could swear that she saw the blood draining straight from her face.
  "Tell me," she said.
  "...My Lady-"
  "Tell me!"
  "I..." she said, then held up a finger and nodded. She grabbed Annabelle by the arm and pulled her close. "Bring Francine," she said. "The other midwife. Go."
  "But, Mother," said Annabelle, glancing at the darkness outside the window, "It's so late now. Surely she's asl-"
  "Fetch her!" Adrienne snapped. "Now!"
  "Yes, Mother!" said Annabelle, and was off like a shot.
   Adrienne returned her attention to Mara and took her hand.
  "No..." said Mara. "Say it isn't so."
  "Do not despair, m'Lady," said Adrienne. "Francine, the other midwife, will be here soon. I... I have an idea, but I will need her."
  "Noooo," she groaned.
  "Curse me for an incompetent!" said Adrienne. "Knowing your fears, I took extra care to feel the baby's position. And-and I would have sworn on my life that I felt the child facing the right way. I know I felt the head here! How did I miss it? How?"
  "Don't you despair!" said Mara. "I need you!"
  "Heather, don't gape at her like a knob," said Adrienne. "Help me comfort her!"
  "Uh...uh..." Heather gripped Mara's head tightly and leaned close. "You're going to be all right! You're going to be all right!"
  "Oh, stop that, you useless girl!" Adrienne snapped. She let go of Mara's hand and began to pace.
  "I'm just trying to help!" said an anguished Heather.
  "Don't be cross with her, Adrienne," said Mara. "Her presence alone is a comfort. Please; save the child."
  "I-I think I can save both of you," said Adrienne. "And my apologies, Heather." Heather nodded in forgiveness. Adrienne resumed pushing on Mara's stomach, prodding and sliding her hands around. She mumbled to herself. Mara gripped her arm and held it tight.
  "Save the child," she said.
  "Upon my life, your Highness," said Adrienne. "But let me try this. Have faith. Please."
  "I don't want to die," said Mara, her eyes welling up. "I don't. I want to live, I want to hold it in my arms, I-I want to-- to--"
  "Shhhhh," said Adrienne, sliding her arm so that they held hands now. She shook it gently. "I failed you. I did not give you my best, as I'd promised. But by God, you will get it today!"
  "You failed no one, dear Adrienne," said Mara, sniffling. "But if it comes to the worst - if it requires my death for the child to live, then my life is forfeit. Remember that. I want to live, but I am-- prepared for that. Heather? Come around, please."
  Heather, eyes moist, came to her Lady's side. Mara held each woman's hand. "I understand that you may not think... beyond my being your 'Princess' or your 'Mistress' or your 'Lady.' That's all right. I know that so-called etiquette demands that we not be equals. That we not be peers. That we not be... friends. But I can't help but think of you - you two - as my best friends. I mean that. I wanted you to know that, in case the worst happens. I love you both."
  The women murmured replies in kind. Mara smiled at them through her tears. Suddenly the curtain was thrown aside, and Annabelle led a sleepy, robe-clad Francine into the room. She was ten years junior to Adrienne but still had a good amount of experience to her own name. Adrienne patted her shoulder.
  "Thank you for coming," she said, "And there's little time." She leaned close to her colleague. "She is... breeching."
  Francine gasped. "No..." she said quietly, covering her mouth.
  "None of that. There is still hope!" said Adrienne. "You: stand there and feel for the feet and legs. I'll stand on the other side and feel for the head. Once you've found the legs, push in close to them with your palm and hold, and wait for my count."
  "To... to do what?"
  "We..." said Adrienne, and took a deep breath, "We are going to try for a miracle. We are going to try to push-" She mimed the motion as she spoke "-the child around, using our hands, until it faces the right way. Do you understand what I mean? Do you need me to demonstrate this?"
  "I think I understand what you need," said Francine. "But how could that possibly work?"
  "Hey!" said Mara. "A little faith?"
  "Oh, I am so..." said Francine, and dipped slightly. "Forgive me, your Highness."
  "Annabelle," said Mara, "Did you see them? My family? Did you see my husband?"
  "His Highness is asleep," she said. "In Francine's waiting room." Francine nodded. "We were careful not to wake him. Their Majesties are sleeping, too."
  "They were all asleep next door?"
  "It is late," said Adrienne, glancing at the dark windows.
  "I wonder if we should wake him," Mara said distantly. "Just him, though."
  Adrienne shook her head. "Let him rest, m'Lady. Unless..." She paused a moment, then shook her head. "No. No, not yet. Heather," she said, pointing, "You stand there. Annabelle, there. Your jobs will be to brace her body as we try to turn the child around. We might need to dig in deep and push hard. My Lady? Will you allow this? Will you let us try?"
  "I'm irrelevant," she said. "Save the child."
  "I can't tell if that's a yes or no?" said Adrienne.
  "Yes," said Mara. "Yes, try it."
  Adrienne nodded. "M'Lady, I beg your forgiveness ahead of time for what may be a very uncomfortable experience. But God willing, you will both live." She looked up. "Please, Lord," she whispered. "Be willing."
  "Save the child."
  "My Lady," said Adrienne, "Relax now."
  The women took their positions. Adrienne was in her element, and she was Queen here. All eyes were on her; all ears listened. Francine crossed herself, then placed her hands, palms down, as instructed.
  "Where did all these scars come from?" she whispered to Adrienne, who shushed her quickly.
  "Not our concern," she scolded. "Mara? We're ready if you are."
  Mara nodded, then closed her eyes and let her head roll back. She kept up her special breathing in between Adrienne's instructions and the "discomfort" caused by the midwives digging in and pushing. Annabelle had wrung out the towel again and wiped down her face, neck, and chest. Mara tried to think of a prayer, but she was unpracticed. Her first thought was pleading for her life. She thought that prayer several times in a row, first directing it at God, and then at her mother. She begged forgiveness for "killing" her and to be given another chance. She went on about the alleged curse, hoping it wasn't true, but just in case...
  She stopped thinking of that prayer, stopped thinking of anything, for that matter. Then new thoughts formed on her own. No begging this time. No pleading for her life. Now she made a promise to raise the child in her mother's name, in her honor, if only she were allowed to. She thought it, and as she thought it, her lips followed. She whispered as quietly as her breath would allow, then repeated it.
  ".. for you, Mother. In your name. I swear upon-"
  "Mara," said Adrienne. "Breathe in deeply, then let it out slowly. Relax as you go. Relax as much as you can."
  "Hm?" said Mara, yanking herself out of prayer. "Um, yes. Yes, all right." She did as the midwife asked, and during the time she relaxed, Adrienne counted again, then urged her assistant to "Go!"
  The two midwives had been working together all this time, and if Mara was comprehending what she saw and heard, the baby was now sitting sideways in her stomach. It was Francine's new job to push the head and Adrienne, the legs. More counting, more pushing. They were pushing in hard with their hands and palms, and Mara felt it each time, but the discomfort was going away. This or she had become so used to the terrible pain of the whole ordeal that she had finally become numb to anything new.
  "Again, m'Lady," said Adrienne. And so the cycle went: push, prod, breathe in, let it out, relax, breathe in and hold, obey the midwife.
  At one point Adrienne held up her hand, then instructed the others to hold their positions. This made it difficult for Mara to breathe, but she made due with shallow breaths. Adrienne took the lantern and knelt, once again carefully reaching inside and feeling around.
  She withdrew her hand and gasped. She stood, set the lantern aside, and covered her mouth.
  "Mother?" said Annabelle.
  "Oh, my God in Heaven," said Adrienne. "Oh, my Lord."
  That was it. There was only the knife for her now. But the child would live. The child had to live. She began another whispered prayer to her mother.
  "If my fate is to be as yours, I accept it. I face it without fear. I pray that the child - your grandchild - forgives me for not being here-"
  "It worked," said Adrienne. Annabelle yelped with glee and hugged her mother. Francine sighed in relief;  Heather immediately began to weep. She looked to her Lady and smiled, but her Lady had her eyes closed and was still whispering to herself.
  "-A good man. He will be a good father. He will-"
  "My Lady?" said Heather, shaking her gently. "Mara?"
  She opened her eyes and smiled. "Don't be afraid, Heather," she said. "Remember that-"
  "The child has been turned," said Adrienne. "Your Highness, the head is down! Francine: do not allow it to turn again!"
  "Yes, ma'am!"
  "What?" said Mara, trying to sit up, but Heather coaxed her back down. "What's happened? Did you say it's turned? It's not coming out the wrong way? You... you did it?"
  "We have," said Adrienne, her eyes welling up. Then she crouched down to peer inside. "But no one celebrates yet! Not until the child is here and has taken its first breath!"
  Mara gripped Heather's arm. "It's facing the right way??"
  "That's what she says, ma'am!" said Heather, grinning through her tears and nodding. Mara was too stunned to react. She could not even form a proper thought for the occasion. Then one snapped into place so hard, it made her jolt.
  "Fetch my husband!" said Mara.
  "You know I don't want any men in here," said Adrienne. "They don't have the stomach for this; trust me."
  "He will!" she said. "Heather! Bring him!"
  Heather began running from the room, but Adrienne summoned her back.
  "I need him here," said Mara. "I want him to see this."
  "He will be in the way!"
  "You are Queen here," said Mara. "But even if you order him to stand and watch from the corner, I want him here."
  Adrienne stared at her patient, fighting the urge to continue the argument, then threw up her hands.
  "I don't have time to debate," she said. "Heather, do as she says." Heather was out of the room before she finished the sentence.
  "As for you..." She patted Mara's belly. "Focus, m'Lady!" she said. "Breathing! Remember your breathing!"
  Mara got her breathing back into the correct rhythm. Francine and Annabelle took positions to keep the baby steady. More wiping down with the towel. Just then the curtain was pushed aside, and Heather entered, followed by the Prince, who showed no signs of sleepiness.
  "Darling!" he cried. "The child is here??"
  Without turning around, Adrienne pointed to a corner. "Stand there, don't move, say nothing, and watch!"
  "What?" he said. "Now see here-!"
  "Do as she says!!" Mara shrieked. Then sweetly: "And thank you for coming, Darling."
  The Prince was momentarily stunned, then sheepishly went where he was told.
  Adrienne placed a firm hand on Mara's belly. "On my count, push! Not gently this time! Push hard! Francine, Annabelle: keep the child steady! Heather: keep her Highness steady! Ready, all: 1... 2... 3...
  "Puuush!!"


  Two more times. Breathe, steel herself, puush. The third time, as she pushed, all sound seemed to cease for her, and she felt a wet cannonball shoot through a fist-sized hole, followed by a waterfall of water, blood, and God-knew-what-else. Sound returned. She gasped, held her breath, then let it go loudly: "Ahhhhh...." After she stopped, she heard something even louder: the crying of an infant. "AHHHHHHH-"
  "A girl!!" she heard someone shout, but could not tell who. The Prince disobeyed his orders and rushed to the midwife, who stifled a glare as she and Francine carefully wrapped the newborn Princess in a clean, white blanket. He peered over Adrienne's shoulder, and only after they were finished did she turn to show him. That act appeared to calm the child and cease its crying.
  Kelvin's smile was enough to light the room without need of candle or lantern. His little sounds of delight and awe eventually formed into a full laugh of pure happiness. He rushed to his wife's side and clasped her hand firmly, still laughing through moist eyes. The midwife went to Mara's other side to present the child to them.
  They both stared at the new, little Princess in wordless awe. Mara reached out, then withdrew her hand. She looked to Adrienne, who just smiled and nodded and brought the child closer. Mara reached out again, this time barely touching the cheek. It was so soft. The girl's eyes were closed, but like Ophelia's boy, the face was so... active. Mara smiled at Adrienne, then giggled, and felt her husband kissing her hand fervently.
  Still smiling, she turned towards him and was startled to see the King and Queen on either side of him, peering intently at their new grandchild. "Ah!! What??"
  "Darling, what's wrong?" said Kelvin.
  "Uh-- Ah-- Nothing," she said, breathing normally. "I-I just didn't realize you were here. Father. Mother Queen." She made a little nod to each in greeting.
  "We arrived just after the Prince did," said the Queen, patting her arm affectionately. "You must have been too... occupied to notice."
  "A girl, you say?" said the King, peering again as if trying to see through the blankets.
  Adrienne nodded. "Yes, your Majesty."
  "A beautiful girl," said Kelvin before the King could say more. "A beautiful Princess. I dare say I can't tell which is more so: the child or the mother. So I must declare it a draw."
  Mara felt her face warming from a blush. She turned back towards her daughter, and caressed the cheek again.
  "Have you named her?" asked the Queen.
  Kelvin smiled and nodded, then looked to his wife. "We have," he said. "Mara?"
  "Hm?"
  "Please tell them her name."
  "Oh," she said, struggling to sit up. The best she could manage was propping up on her elbows. "She is Isabel... Cassandra... Lily," she said, looking at the Queen for the last name. The Queen allowed a small smile.
  The King was puzzled. "'Lily' is the only name I recognize," he said.
  "Ah, well," said Mara, "I just... like the name 'Isabel.' I heard the name aloud many years ago, and decided that I really liked it. I didn't even know the person with the name. I've just always liked the sound of it. And 'Cassandra' is, um... my mother's name."
  "Ahh," said the King, nodding. "Perhaps you could make 'Lily' the first name, and-"
  "Silas," said the Queen. "It is their child. I am honored that my name is any part of it."
  "...Yes, dear," he said.
  "Mara," said the Queen. She perked up. "You have not yet held... Isabel."
  "Ohhh..." she said, looking to Adrienne, who smiled and held up the Princess Isabel a little. Mara struggled again with sitting up, until Kelvin pushed her up gently with one arm, then propped himself behind her so she could lean back on him. She thanked him quietly and reached out. Adrienne began providing instructions, but Mara assured her that she had some experience with holding infants. She took her daughter from the midwife and held her for the first time. Adrienne was compelled to make one tiny adjustment before stepping back and looking on with a mix of pride, relief, and sheer exhaustion. Kelvin peered over Mara's shoulder, then kissed her neck before resting his chin on the shoulder and grinning.
  "You two," groaned the King. "In front of servants? Really?"
  "We're ignoring you, Father," said Kelvin without looking. He and his wife shared giggles, murmurs, smiles, and general oohing and ahhing. "Mara," he whispered to her. "Have you noticed something?"
  "I'm not sure," she whispered back. "Please tell me she's not missing anything??"
  "Not that I can see," he said, and paused. Then: "You live. Both you and the child live."
  She closed her eyes and smiled. "We do," she whispered. "Thanks to her. Thanks to her."
  "What was that, now?" asked the Queen. "Were there problems with the birth?"
  Adrienne clasped her hands together. "Ah, well, your Majesty-"
  "You'll all have any details you wish later," said Mara, glancing to the midwife. "But right now, I'm spent. I need rest. She needs rest. But we are both here. Both alive."
  "Well said, Darling," murmured Kelvin.
  Adrienne took the child so she could bring her to a cradle, but was delayed by the King and Queen immediately making a fuss about summoning carriages, ringing church bells, making proclamations, proper accommodations for both Princesses, feasts, banquets, dances-
  "Excuse me!!" Kelvin bellowed, simultaneously ending all discussion and stunning all present. Before the King and Queen could recover: "Pardon my shouting you down, but Her Royal Highness is too fatigued to do the same. So she has given me these instructions."
  The King and Queen glanced to Mara, who was lying down again, watching her husband with quiet satisfaction.
  "She is going to rest here," he said, "In that bed-" He pointed to a small bed in one corner, set aside for Adrienne's patients. "-With Princess Isabel beside her in that cradle. We may ring any bells and make any proclamations we wish, but she is not riding in any carriages or going anywhere until she's had some sleep, some food, and some drink. Nor will there be any visitors until she says there are." He clasped his hands behind his back. "Now: are there any disputes to these instructions?"
  The King and Queen traded looks, then overlapped each other's replies.
  "No, None, As she wishes, Quite right..." before fading into unintelligible murmurs.
  Kelvin nodded. "Thank you," he said, then turned to his wife and nodded again. She smiled and giggled. He took her hand and kissed it again, then leaned in to kiss her gently on the lips. "Sleep well, Darling," he whispered. "I'm so proud of you." That never failed to give her a chill.
  The King and Queen were at her side again. She watched them in silence. Their expressions were oddly neutral, so she had no way to guess what they were thinking. Then the King - the King - smiled gently, leaned over and kissed her forehead. The Queen followed suit before both joined their son near Adrienne, who held the newborn Princess while they fawned over her.
  Mara watched the scene until her eyelids suddenly became quite heavy. The sounds in the room became a drone, and all movement a blur.

The Pauper Prince - Part 27

The Pauper Prince
Chapter 27

  There were no comfortable positions anymore at this stage, at least not when lying down. This time Mara did not care, for it had been five months since her husband had warmed his side of the bed. Rather than her usual post-coital position of lying on her side, her arm draped across his chest, her breath gently warming his shoulder, she was on her back, staring at the ceiling. Kelvin had fallen asleep in an odd position that was fine for him but uncomfortable for her, and she was indulging it as long as possible. He was lying on his side, facing her, with his head resting between her extra-large belly and breasts that seemed larger than the last time he'd seen them. He was slumbering very contentedly.
  She ran her fingers idly through his hair while thinking about the end of the war and the return of the fighters. She had been reunited with her husband, who was whole and unharmed as far as she could tell. Several hundred widows could not say the same. Even more children were now fatherless. Almost four hundred men from Gildern lost. Given the span of the war - nearly five months - it could be argued as a small loss, but not for a kingdom that had been ravaged half a decade before. Any loss was too much. And now Seamus. Kelvin had described him as "teacher, mentor, father, brother, friend," and she had seen all of it while observing them in the past. During her brief time taking lessons from him, he never condescended, never treated her as a "woman," or even as though doing his Prince a favor just by letting her swing a sword around. He had treated her like any other man under his tutelage. She had the bad bruises and wounded ego to prove it. She'd have lasted a few minutes against him in real battle, if lucky, but he had told her, "Not bad." Kelvin had consoled her later by insisting that it was his second-highest compliment, just under "Not quite there." Kelvin had received that one for years and had no idea if there was any higher. Now they would never find out. No one would.

  It was the sheer contentedness with which he slept that prompted her to tolerate it this long, but finally the pain in her back got the better of her. She carefully tried to shift and stretch underneath him to alleviate the soreness, but he was roused. His eyes opened, and he blinked a few times before smiling at her. She smiled back and stroked his cheek.
  "Good morning, my Lord," she murmured.
  He sat up, glanced out the window, then smiled lazily. "Good afternoon, my Lady," he said.
  She frowned, then sighed. "I did it again. It's become a habit now."
  "We'll break it."
  "Mm. I was trying to move so as not to wake you," she said, sitting up on her elbows and letting her head roll back to try more stretching. "Ohh, that didn't help, either," she groaned, and dropped back down. He lay on his back beside her. She sighed again. "And this is how it goes for me of late. Sitting feels better. It's getting up, though; that's the challenge."
  He chuckled. "But the baby will be here soon," he said. "And you can lie comfortably again. And by the way," he said, leaning closer to her, "I think you should be 'on top' more often. Well done, Darling."
  She blushed and failed to suppress a giggle. "I'm pleased that you were pleased, my Lo-Ahhhh! Not again. Forgive me."
  "Listen," he said, "You've done nothing wrong. I couldn't be more 'pleased' with you right now. My parents, on the other hand..."
  He scoffed to himself, then laid back down. She could tell that he was brooding. Lying on her back wasn't helping her soreness, so she turned - with a bit of effort - and resumed her usual post-coital position. What was different for them now was that her belly pressed against his side, but not uncomfortably for him. While she had been moving into position, he had lifted up his arm, then let it rest on her belly after she was done. Her lying beside him this way did seem to ease his mood.
  "Kelvin?" she said. "You do what you think is right, and say what you think you must, but bear in mind that I do want to be a good wife. And mother, God willing. They did mean well."
  "I disagree," he said. "From the start they had their own view of the 'perfect' wife for me. The women they chose for me were near-matches to it. But I could not have been more clear that you are the best woman for me, and the moment I'm called away - to fight in a war, no less - they preyed upon your fears, your insecurities, your... guilt, possibly, and-and tried to remold you in their own image. That is not just a violation of you, but of me, also. How dare they bless our marriage, and then do this to you?"
  "Kelvin, please," she said. "Couldn't you just forgive them? I don't want to be a, a wedge between you and your parents."
  "It's not that I don't forgive them," he said. "But they will be made to understand that they brought the 'wedge.' They respected neither of us. They know I never wanted a-- a walking-behind-me, shuffling, submissive, won't-speak-unless-spoken-to wife, or Princess, or future Queen. Of all people to do that to you - my mother? Have you met her?"
  She giggled, then became serious. "I'm not angry with them," she said. "With her. I-I suppose I can't be. She is the Queen, and-- Darling, you should know. You remember how poorly I behaved, the day you left?"
  "Yes," he said. "Water under the bridge."
  "So you say," she said, "But days later I was still being angry and foolish and selfish. Mother Queen took me to task - hard - but it was well-deserved."
  "But that's the problem," he said. "She didn't stop there."
  "No," she whispered. "I suppose she didn't." A silence followed, then: "Kelvin, it's-- not so much what she did to me that makes me sad, but what's been done to my friends."
  "Oh?"
  "I've been... forbidden, for lack of a better word, from being friends with anyone other than a 'peer,' as they say. You know: anyone with a title. To anyone without one, I'm to be distant and 'regal,' and... and I cannot let them use any but formal address."
  "Ah," he said. "So, your assistant Heather, for instance?"
  She nodded. "She must call me 'your Highness' and curtsey and... avoid eye contact. I hate it, Kelvin! I loathe it, but they tell me that it must be so! And poor Heather, who must feel as though I've betrayed her, even though I've tried to explain what's happened, and have apologized. I'm so confused. At one time Mother Queen complimented me on being a 'Princess of the People,' but then tries to take that from me! You speak to the staff with respect; does that bother them, too? Does it mean nothing to them that you yourself lived as a commoner? Worked as one? That I'm one? Or was, or whatever I am."
  "You're a Princess," he said emphatically. "And you are one of the people. I love that about you. Ah, but I admit that I haven't give them... many details about what it was like. Can you imagine if I described everything about how we lived? They'd send twenty guards to burn down Erick's inn, as though working there was worse than any other place."
  "Now that would be harsh," she said. "Oh, Kelvin, I don't know what I'm supposed to do anymore. How I'm supposed to be. And don't mistake me; I am friends with 'peers,' but to be blocked from all others. I... I don't..." Her voice began to waver. He took up her hand, kissed it, then held it against his chest.
  "Calm yourself, Darling," he said gently. "Things will be right once more. I promise. In fact, as of now, you speak and act towards any of the servants, however you like."
  "But your parents-"
  "I will deal with them," he said. "You are who you are, and they'll be reminded of it. And whatever business they would have with you, they would have with me first."
  His words sounded very familiar, and then she remembered who had said them before: she had, in defense of Heather.
  "A word to the wise, though," he said. "As fond as we may be of anyone here, it's important to bear in mind that, ultimately... they are servants."
  "Staff," she said. "Assistants. And in some cases, friends."
  "Perhaps," he said. "Dear, I've seen how you speak to the ser-- staff. You treat them with respect, kindness, and patience. You say that I treat them with respect, too, and I try to. Not just because of my own time living as a commoner, but... well, in deference to you. To emulate you." She suppressed a smile of pride. "I think most of them are fond of you, but as a mistress. As a friend? Most wouldn't go so far, and this may be difficult for you to believe, but most don't want to, no matter how kind you - or we - are to them. But I don't blame you for trying. Do you really still think of yourself as a commoner?"
  "Not exactly," she said. "But I don't want to forget that I ever was."
  "Then don't," he said, kissing her temple. "But also don't forget what you are now."
  She almost replied by asking about Seamus, gently challenging him to explain the exception, then thought better of it. Of course he was an exception. Though ultimately subject to his Prince's command, they were in all other ways equals. No, partners. That explained them better. There was always an exception to rules, even these about etiquette and royal behavior and whatnot. She ought to be able to have her own exceptions, then.
  She smiled to herself, then gave him a look of her deepest love, even though he was in profile to her and didn't see it. She leaned in to kiss his shoulder, then neck, and he turned his head to trade two kisses with her before lying back again.
  She rolled - with some effort - onto her back and closed her eyes, believing his words that everything would be all right. Just then she felt the baby kicking. "Oh!" she said, and took one of his hands and placed it low on her stomach. He was perplexed but said nothing, and waited. Soon enough there was another kick, and another. His face lit up with delight, and they shared a laugh and another kiss.  The baby seemed to calm down and was still once more. Kelvin rolled onto his back again and closed his eyes. She suddenly became somber, and rested both hands on her stomach.
  "Kelvin," she said, "I want you to promise me something."
  He opened his eyes and shrugged mildly. "Anything."
  She opened her mouth to speak, then paused to make sure the words would be just right. "I'm not going to use pretty words," she said. "Nothing with extra meanings. No... metaphors."
  "Darling?" he said. "Is something wrong?"
  "Please," she said. "You must let me speak all the way through. We mustn't ignore the fact that... whether there be such a thing as a curse or not, there is the possibility that... that I will not survive the birth. I could very well die the same way my mother did. Or even some other way."
  "It's not something I-"
  "Please," she said again. "You must let me finish. Will you do this?" He nodded. "Thank you. My promise-" She clasped her hands around one of his. "-Your promise to me, is that, should the worst happen, you will raise the child with a love that I never had. And I don't mean things. Trappings of wealth and royalty and privilege. I mean love. The child must never be blamed for what happened to me. Must never be made to feel... worthless. Or stupid. Or unworthy. Teach the child about giving whole, unconditional... love. Like you've given me. Do you promise this, Kelvin?"
  "Of course," he said. "This would happen no matter what."
  "I know," she said, "For you are a good man. But I just wanted to say that, and hear it from you, because... the possibility is there. It would be foolish to pretend otherwise. And I have one more thing to ask."
  "Anything."
  "Again, if I don't live, please tell the child that I died declaring my love for it. No curses, no anger, not even regret-- other than the regret of not being there for it. Please tell the child that. And I don't care what my actual final words might be."
  "I promise," he said. "With all my heart, I promise."
  "Thank you," she said, patting his hand. There was a long silence as her words sank into them both. Then she turned towards him a little. "Of course you know that I don't want to die."
  "Oh, yes, yes, absolutely," he said.
  "Good," she said. "I'm just trying to be prepared. Prepare you. I'm just trying to be practical."
  "Yes, practical as always," he said. "That you are."

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

  Heather held a pile of her Highness's carefully-folded undergarments and had just opened the wardrobe, when the Princess waddled into the room with much enthusiasm, giggling to shame a hyena, and her smile as wide as her hips.
  "Oh, happy day!" she proclaimed. "The chains are lifted!"
  Heather hid her amusement, and took a step back to dip to her. She kept her gaze askance while speaking. "Ah," she said, "Pleasing news, indeed, your Highness."
  "No no no no," said the Princess, wagging a finger. "Stand up straight, look me in the eyes, and call me Mara!"
  Heather hesitated on the first two and did not attempt the third. The Princess continued smiling and motioned for her to straighten up. Finally she did, and looked in her Lady's eyes with uncertainty.
  "I may be kind to you again!" said the Princess. "To all of you. Dear Heather, I want to make up those months of coldness to you. In fact, uh-- I relieve you of duties! Right now! Stop working!"
  To her surprise, Heather looked extremely concerned. Worried, even. "I'm... I'm being dismissed??" she said with an unexpected waver in her voice.
  "Wh-? No no, I don't mean like that!" she said, holding up reassuring hands. "I meant that you don't have to work anymore today. A day of freedom! That's it. Doing whatever we like, instead of work."
  "Ohhhhhh," said Heather. "Your Highness, I am so relieved."
 "Mara," she said with a tiny hint of impatience, then returned to cheerfulness. "What should we do, though?"
  "I-I don't--"
  "A ride through the country?" said the Princess. "A picnic in the garden? Time in the pub?" She flashed an impish grin. "What would you like to do?"
  "I... Whatever you wish, your H-- Mara."
  "I know!" said the Princess. "A ride into town! Into Allcourt! Just the two of us! Have you ever been there? It's small but rather pleasant. And you can see where I used to wo-- Where I met Prince Kelvin." Her best friend, and even she couldn't know her whole, true origin. It was maddening.
  "Oh," said Heather. "That ought to be pleasant. And I have been there, but-"
  "Well, drop your work, then, and let's go!"
  "Er..." said Heather. "As you wish."
  The Princess paused to plan in her head what sort of activities they'd do in town. Some of it she muttered and mumbled out loud, and giggled and sighed to herself, and in the process, began to calm a bit. The Princess's smile - and breathing, and heart rate - gradually faded into something more natural.
  Then something in her eyes changed. "What am I doing?" she said, half to herself. "What am I thinking?"
  "...Mara?"
  She looked Heather full in the face and took a few seconds to speak again. "A day of 'freedom' wouldn't be spent with me," she said quietly. "It would-- You should be with family. Friends. Leonard."
  "Oh," said Heather, blushing, "Mara, i-it's not that-- not that I don't--"
  "No, no, no," she said. "There are no explanations needed. No apologies. I was being a fool. As long as you're with me, you're not truly 'free,' are you?"
  Heather shook her head. "I would never dare to say that."
  "You don't have to," said Mara. She smiled again, but warmly. "Go. Stop working right now, and go do what you want to do. Away from me."
  "My La-- I mean, Mara. Are you certain? For how long?"
  "I could not be more certain," she said, then shrugged. "And I don't know. At least the rest of the day. And then, um, see me tomorrow morning, and we'll talk."
  But Heather stayed where she was and stared with a disbelieving expression. Mara gestured grandly - twice - for her to leave.
  "Go," she said. "Drop the work you're holding, and leave this room." Heather glanced at the pile of undergarments she still held. "Yes, that work. Drop it this instant and go do something you enjoy!"
  Heather grinned, giggled, then whipped both hands away with a flourish and watched her work drop to the ground. Mara clapped in mock applause, then pointed dramatically to the door. Heather ran from the room without further hesitation, pausing only to shut the door behind herself.
  Mara held her dramatic pose a few seconds more, then relaxed and smiled to herself. She loved Heather. She would do anything for her, possibly even die for her. But the young woman, just as the Prince had gently reminded, still worked for her. Still did chores for her. Still walked a few steps behind when her Lady's "peers" were around. The Prince was right. The Queen was right. She knew it from the beginning, but had pretended to herself otherwise. Pretended that everyone she knew could do anything and everything together without barriers. Pretended that "my Lady" was a term of endearment. But there it was: she could be the greatest mistress who ever lived, but they could never be truly equal. Never truly... friends. Mara sighed. Greatest mistress who ever lived, then. It was good to have goals.
  She decided to lose herself in more reading, and turned to head for the parlor. There was a pile of undergarments on the floor, left there on her orders. "Ah. Hm." She could still pick up things from the ground, but not without a bit of difficulty.

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

  Kelvin delivered a eulogy for the heroic fallen, saving Seamus for last, that left everyone present wiping away at least one tear. The Queen and the Princess openly wept; it was not only because of the intensified emotions caused by pregnancy, but she had finally embraced the idea that tears were not always a sign of weakness. Tears of grief could be very cleansing, she discovered. The Prince had a moment before the service when he insisted that he could not go on and speak of fallen comrades, but his family, including his dear wife this time, rallied for his courage and gave him the strength just to stand before the assembled mourners, let alone present his speech. The King had offered to speak in his place, but ultimately the Prince realized that no one else could have. He had been there. He had fought with them, eaten with them, suffered with them, laughed with them, bled with them. He needed to speak for them.
  There were informal receptions and banquets that lasted for days, and bled into strategic meetings over how to divide parts of Breech and absorb others. Emissaries were sent to speak on behalf of King Silas, and plans were made for the King himself to travel, if truly needed. Mara drifted in and out of such meetings, but spent more time in the receptions, meeting and speaking with other survivors and the injured, and comforting grieving families. During quiet moments she began researching her law books to see how the kingdom provided for the widows and children of its fallen soldiers. Provisions were made, but she was dissatisfied with them overall and made a point to discuss them with the family as soon as was feasible.

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

  Solomon arrived one day to escort her to their Majesties' private conference room - a room she had come to know well. Her apprehension came from never knowing if their meetings with her were for good or ill, from her point of view.
  Upon arrival Solomon pushed open the door for her, then took his respectful leave. Inside were the King, Queen... and the Prince. None of them appeared pleased. Something was wrong. She had done something wrong? Something that upset even her husband?
  "Darling," he said. "Thank you for coming. Please; let us all sit."
  The room had a small conference table to one side. The King and Queen seated themselves, and Mara waited for her husband to, but he gestured to her seat. It became immediately clear that he was there to help her sit in as dignified a way as a heavily-pregnant Princess could. Finally he took his own seat, and clasped his hands together and ignored their frowns masked by years of practiced dignity.
  "Father. Mother," he said. "Please. Let us begin."
  The King cleared his throat and threw his son an extra look of subtle irritation before speaking. "We - the Queen and I - have agreed to, henceforth, leave any - shall we say - domestic improvements upon yourself, to the ministrations of your husband."
  Mara watched the King and waited for more, and when there was none, snuck a glance at Kelvin. The King leaned back in his chair and relaxed some. "There," he said, giving the Prince a wave of his hand, "It is done."
  The Prince forced a laugh and shook his head. "No, sire," he said. "I don't believe it is."
  "What is done?" asked Mara.
  "What else is there?" said the King. "You convinced us that you alone are to be her gatekeeper, and she has been informed. We're done here. And good luck to you both."
  "Gatekeeper?" said Mara.
  "Father," said the Prince, hiding his frustration, "There is more than just the agreement. You both know this. I did not ask her here to hear an announcement, but also an apology."
  "Son, you go too far," said the King. "We are not in error."
  The Prince struggled to keep his tone even. "You very much were. Are. She is my wife and therefore my responsibility. You know what my feelings have been from the start, yet you chose to ignore them-"
  "Ohh, no, we have been through this ad nauseum," said the King.
  "Apparently we need to keep going until you understand my argument!" said the Prince.
  "You've been arguing?" said Mara with mild alarm.
  The King and Prince were seated across from each other, with her in the middle, leading to her shifting her focus one to the other as if watching a sporting match. The Queen, for her part, was looking down and did not seem to be paying attention to the men at all. Mara could not tell if she was bored, asleep, somehow prevented from looking up, or reading something.
  "We understand your side," said the King. "That was your goal. There was no requirement that we agree."
  "That has been my goal all this time," said the Prince. "There is no need for 'improvement' or 'reparation' or  even 'retraining.' How could you have blessed our marriage while hiding this dissatisfaction all the while?"
  "Wait," said Mara. "Is this about-?"
  "As always, son, you are making mountains of molehills," said the King. "Small adjustments, at best. People are not static beings; they change, they grow. They improve."
  "On their own, yes," said the Prince. "When it's forced upon them, where is the growth? It becomes oppression."
  "I would choose your words more carefully, son," said the King.
  "Father," said the Prince, allowing some exasperation to sneak out, "Are you going to apologize... or not?"
  "May I just interject for a moment-?" said Mara.
  "There is no need," said the King. "We are not wrong, we are your sovereigns, and forgiveness of us is required and therefore automatic."
  The Prince groaned and buried his head in his hands. The King made a noise that was more like a growl or grumble. He leaned back in his chair, folded his arms, and scowled. Mara looked one to the other, and, convinced that none were going to speak, hesitantly held up a finger.
  "If it pleases your Maj-"
  Suddenly the Prince slammed his hands down hard on the table and began to stand up.
  "Well!" he said, holding his hand out to her. "I'm afraid that our purpose here is unfulfilled. Father. Mother. By your leave?"
  "Kelvin," said the Queen, finally raising her eyes to meet his. "Do you think you'll be allowing your wife to speak today?"
  He furrowed his brow and looked to Mara, who remained seated and failed to pretend that she was not distressed. Even worse that all eyes were now on her, waiting for her to say something terribly noteworthy.
  "Darling?" he said. "Have I been disregarding you?"
  "Um..."
  "You have," said the Queen. "Sit." The Prince hesitated, then reseated himself and took one of her hands.
  "Dearest," he said, "What have you been trying to say?"
  "I-I think this is about," said Mara, looking one to the other in the room and finally focusing on her husband, "About my being 'trained' to be a better wife. Yes?"
  "Yes," said the Prince, now clasping her hand in both of his.
  "Oh," she said, "So... I have become a wedge between you. Between you and your parents."
  "I've already told you," he said. "You've done nothing wrong. They brought the 'wedge.'"
  "Nevertheless," she said, "You've all been arguing. About me. I didn't want that, Kelvin. I-I was hoping there could be... forgiveness and, and no strife. Do you remember that I said that?"
  "Yes," he said, "And I said that I would still talk to them, for they needed to know their actions were wrong. You remember that, yes?"
  "Kelvin, I..." she said, and then sighed. "Are you understanding what I'm trying to say?"
  "Darling," he said, "What kind of man would I be - what kind of husband would I be, if I did not come to the aid of my wife? If I offered no support? Would you have me leave you defenseless?"
  Mara gritted her teeth, then quickly closed her lips to hide her displeasure of that word: defenseless. It meant being vulnerable. Being weak-
  "No," she made herself say calmly. "But I would have you forgive them. You have just fought a war. Please don't start another one. Not with them. And not because of me."
  The Prince sighed now. "Is that you speaking, or their 'improvement?'"
  She gasped, but said nothing. The Queen finally brought her hands up from under the table, and casually set aside a piece of paper that had been thrice-folded. There were words, so she had been reading. A speech? The Queen clasped her hands together.
  "Son," she said, "How many enemies do you plan to make today?"
  "I beg your pardon!" he said.
  "You have explained to us that we did not respect you or the Princess in our attempts to reform her according to our wishes, rather than yours. And... you are correct. Mara," she said, looking her full in the face, "We are sorry. We apologize for this, and we hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive us."
  The King did not hide his irritation. "Lily-"
  "You might think yourself infallible and therefore immune to regret," said the Queen. "But I do not."
  "Well said, Mother," said the Prince.
  "You are not innocent, either," she said, pointing accusingly at him. The Prince was perplexed.
  "Your Majesty," said Mara quietly. "Mother Queen. Thank you. Yes. Yes, o-of course I forgive you. I think that you... both meant well, though the result was-- not as well-received as you'd hoped. But with all my heart, I forgive you."
  "How am I not an innocent?" said the Prince.
  The Queen arched an eyebrow. "As we are guilty of deciding for ourselves what is best for her, are you not guilty of the same?"
  "I know what is best for her," he said, placing his hand on top of hers. She did not acknowledge the gesture, but was instead fixated on the letter or speech near the Queen. She pointed to it.
  "Is that my letter?" she asked, and looked to him.
  The Prince tore himself away from his righteous indignation and followed her finger. He looked back to her and nodded. "Yes, Darling," he said, taking it from the Queen. "I realized that what you wrote in it shows better your true nature than any words I could give. This was to show that-"
  "Why did you show it to them?" Her tone carried a note, or two, of hurt. She took the letter from him and held it to her chest.
  "Er... As I was saying," he said, "I wanted them to see for themselves that their reformation was unneeded. That you already were - are - the perfect wife for me."
  She held it out and skimmed the words, then refolded it and held it again to her chest. She looked askance rather than in his eyes. "I wrote this for you," she whispered.
  "Wh-I know you did," he said. "But what you wrote... The words were better than I-"
  "It was for you only."
  "What's that?"
  Mara closed her eyes and drew in a breath, let it out slowly, and opened her eyes. "Kelvin," she said, "I wrote this... for you. No one else."
  The King scoffed, and began chuckling. "Well, then," he said, "It appears that she's now surrounded by people owing her apologies."
  "Silas" was the Queen's only warning to him. And the King was silenced. Not even a chuckle.
  "But..." said the Prince, "But, Darling, I... My only desire was to help you. To protect you."
  Again, she needed to hide gritted teeth. More words to make her seem weak. "You could have done that," she said, "Without my letter. If your purpose was to share it with them for its own sake, I could... overlook that. But instead you used it as-- as evidence in your case against them. You made it-- 'Exhibit A.'"
  Kelvin raised an eyebrow, then smirked. "Hm. We'll need to find something other than law books for you to-"
  "Do not mock me!!" she snapped, then immediately closed her eyes and took deep breaths to calm herself. The Prince looked to his parents for aid, but they had, after all, promised to leave her concerns to him alone. He reached out to touch her, to comfort her, but realized it would do more harm than good. In time she was able to supplant her anger and breathe normally. It was difficult to look him in the eyes, but she straightened up and made it so.
  "Kelvin," she said, speaking in measured tones, "I love you. I always will. And I am... honored that you would stand by me. Support me. Defend me. But... I would ask... that you let me decide for myself... if it is my wish. And... that you understand... what is between us alone... and what may be shared. Or if you do not... that you ask. There is no shame in asking. But there can be shame in assuming."
  When he did not reply, she swallowed and glanced away, then looked him in the eyes again.
  "That is all I wished to say," she said.
  Again the Prince looked to his parents, who were united in offering no words of advice nor comfort in their expressions. He tried to re-meet his wife's gaze, but found that he lacked the power. He blew out a breath and rubbed the back of his neck. Then he dared to put a hand on hers. That she did not yank it away was a good sign, he hoped.
  "Father is correct," said Kelvin. "As is Mother. They're... not the only ones who tried to act for you. Speak for you. Think for you. You.... being as you are, is what made me love you. But then I let my pride and righteous anger take over, and ignored your wishes over mine."
  She clasped his hand in hers and smiled. "Kelvin, there's no need-"
  "There is," he said. "There is. I was pig-headed and stubborn, in your name. I was... a poor husband. And I am sorry for it."
  Mara opened her mouth to reply, then took last looks at those assembled in the room, and began to weep. Naturally this alarmed her husband, and to an extent, her in-laws, though she could not give a reason for the tears, and likened it to the intense feelings that Adrienne had warned her about. The wildly fluctuating moods that she'd been experiencing with an entire lack of prediction.
  After a minute or so of tears she managed to stem the flow, and apologized quietly for making a scene. Calling attention to herself was the last thing she ever wanted or made attempts to do. It occurred to her that she had an apology to respond to. She smiled and held Kelvin's hand, wiping away one last bit of moisture in the eyes before speaking.
  "Kelvin," she said, "You know that I accept your apology with all my heart."
  "I didn't 'know,' " he said. "But thank you.
  "I love you."
  "I love you more."
  The King groaned loudly and deliberately and began to stand. "Ohh, we are definitely done here," he said. "You two have private chambers; use them."
  Kelvin allowed a chuckle at his father's quip, then remembered his royal manners and quickly stood up, making sure to assist his wife to her feet afterward. She thanked him quietly and accepted the elbow he offered.
  "Such a strange day for me," she said, smiling. "First I was-Oh!" She grimaced, felt her stomach, then relaxed and smiled again. "Well! Every day brings some new experience."
  The Queen spoke quickly. "What did it feel like?"
  "Oh, it's nothing, Mother Queen," said Mara, waving it off. "I probably stood up wrong. Pulled something. You remember how it was, yes? Odd little pains, gurgling, limbs swelling-"
  "Hush," said the Queen. "No more prattling. What did you feel?"
  Mara kept up her forced smile, looking one to the other in the room. To a person they had a look of great concern. She forced a laugh. "So serious. No fussing over me, please. I've had enough of that today. I'll go lie down, if you wish-Oh!"
  "That's it," said the Queen, coming around the table and taking her arm. "Describe it; now."
  "Please, Darling," said Kelvin.
  "Just... just a twinge," she said. "I'm sure it's-- It was like a squeezing. A tightening. A spasm, perhaps?"
  "Come," said the Queen, leading her from the room. "To Sir William." The men kept pace behind them.
  "Mother Queen," said Mara, tugging gently on her arm. "Mother Queen, please. You know I have been seeing a midwife. If you think I should see to this pain, let us visit her. Not Sir William. You know that I-"
  "To the midwife, then," said the Queen. "Do you need assistance? Can you walk?"
  Mara sighed in frustration. "Such fussing over me," she said. "You know I don't like being the center of--!" She stopped after seeing the Queen's Look, which her own was but a pale imitation of. She was instantly calmed, and cleared her throat quietly.
  "Yes, Mother Queen," she said. "I'm able to walk. Thank you for your concern."
  Without a word, the Queen continued leading her from the room and through the corridors. She beckoned to some nearby servants and gave instructions about summoning the royal carriage. They ran ahead of the family immediately to make arrangements.
  "I only just saw her yesterday," said Mara, struggling to keep up. "She said that I'm looking fine. She knows all about these things, you know. She said that it's normal to have all sorts of sudden feelings. Sudden pain, sudden discomfort. I-I know, she did say that the baby could, could come any time at this point, but I'm sure that there are at least a week left. That's a reasonable time. Mother Queen, do you think that's a reasonable time? ...Mother Queen?"