The Pauper Prince - Part 41

The Pauper Prince
Chapter 41

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"I hope that she towers over him!"

"I hope that, when she sits, he must remain standing in order to speak face-to-face!"

"I-I hope that when she looks down, she has trouble deciding if it's her husband, or an ant that she sees!"

"Mara-"

"I hope that he must stand on a box on their wedding day! And-and whenever they need to-!"

"Mara, all right, enough," said Kelvin firmly, but without shouting.

The presentation was done, dinner had been consumed, the entertainment had packed away its tools of the trade. It was evening now and the first time that Kelvin and Mara were alone in their guest chambers. He had been slumped so casually in a cushioned chair that he sat almost sideways. Mara was not so relaxed, but she did listen to him, and was quiet. Not still, but quiet.

"Those were all very clever," he said, "But before you continue, please;  please tell me that you said none of those things to her?"

Her response was a pantomime of trying to beat back her outrage. Biting of lips, fidgeting, pacing-

"Oh, no," said Kelvin with undisguised disappointment.

"I did not say those things," she said quickly. "I exercised great restraint. Queenly restraint. You are the only one I say these things to, so that I might... vent. Only you."

"Thank the Lord," he said, unraveling himself in order to sit with proper posture. "By the way, did you say anything in response?"

"I..." she said, "Something diplomatic, I'm sure. Yes, um... I smiled and said something to the effect of, of, that if their children are as tall as Isabel, surely Anne would want their sons to be tall and strong? Yes, that's what I said. Sweetly, mind you."

Kelvin pondered this a bit, then showed a mild shrug. "That's not bad. But dear, you must know that she was just talking, yes?"

"She's a Queen," said Mara. "Queens don't just 'talk.' They speak, and others take action. And really, of all things for her to fret about. To be picking and pecking at-- Ugh!" She draped an arm over her face dramatically. "'Ohh, woe, my son must stand on his toes to kiss his wife! The entire kingdom is a laughingstock!" She scoffed, then began pacing anew.

"Yes, well," he said, fighting against a smile, "Your point's been made, dear. Now stop torturing your dress, and come: sit beside me."

"What?" she said, looking down. Both hands held the loose folds of her skirt in a death grip. She had been unconsciously squeezing and rolling up the fabric. "Oh!" she cried, and tried to smooth out the many wrinkles. "Millicent will kill me for this."

"No, she won't," he said. "She'll nod and say 'Right away, Your Highness' when you bring it to her."

"I don't mean literal-" she said, then waved it off. "Oh, you know she'll be thinking it. I would be."

"Possibly," he conceded, and moved to a small, cushioned davenport. "Sit, and relax." He patted the spot beside him. She was still busy with fixing her dress. After the wrinkles were flattened to her satisfaction, she sighed loudly and began fiddling with her rings.

"Darling," he said in obvious exasperation.

"What?"

"Sit. Beside me."

Her eyes went a little wide in surprise. Then: "Yes, dear," she said quietly, and plopped down. She kept her hands daintily in her lap, but sneaked in more fidgeting that was poorly disguised as 'fixing' her rings.

Kelvin sighed and patted his lap. "On second thought," he said, "Here is better."

"On your lap is not very dignified," she said.

"Neither is rolling your dress into a ball. Besides, it's a little chilly in here. This will be warmer."

That got a quiet 'hmph.' She did not dislike sitting on his lap. In fact, she had no count of how many times they'd... passed an evening's time this way, but she still hesitated. Still... yes, it did help them warm up. Eventually she hopped over as asked, and let her arm drape over his shoulder. He took the blanket lying across the davenport and wrapped it around themselves, putting more of it on her. Finally he put his arm around her waist and pulled her closer.

"I think we both know," he said, "That the wedding wouldn't be called off for something like that."

"Yes, I suppose not," she said. "I don't know why-- I think my anger surprised even me. I suppose it's..." She fell quiet suddenly, then looked his way. "You know that, growing up, I was ill-treated. Not just by my father, but by most others in the village. Whether it be because of fear of him, or his encouraging me to keep my distance from them. Other children, they used any reason they could to taunt me. My odd clothes. My crazy father. Having no mother. My height. Anything."

She was silent again. Kelvin leaned in for a kiss, which she accepted. After they parted, she rested her head against his. "I think that I would laugh now if anyone thought to mock my height," she said. "Or much of anything else, for what purpose would it serve? But to think that... that my daughter might go through what I had... it was all I could do to keep calm, and smile, and speak diplomatically."

"It's good that you managed it," he said, stroking her hair gently. Mara closed her eyes and smiled. "And as for her suffering as you did, take heart that Isabel has an advantage that you didn't: she's a royal Princess. Being taunted about anything... Well, her tormentor would learn a harsh lesson indeed."

"That is a comfort," she said. "But to hear words like that coming from Anne - my friend - even the suggestion, which is really all it amounted to, that she could somehow be less desirable if taller than her son... It hurt."

"Because she's your friend."

"True," she said. "Kelvin, I forgive her. I don't think she knows that she offended, but I forgive her. I believe that she meant no malice. As for Isabel, well... I wish her to be protected from all harm, but I also don't want her growing up with no humility. To think that being a Princess puts her above all others. Can we teach her compassion as well as strength? How do we do that?"

"You're asking me?" he said. "I became a parent the same time you did." She furrowed her brow. "Dearest, to start, we show her by our own examples. I most certainly have differences with my parents, but I'd like to think that I learned from their best examples. On the other hand, I think it's fair to say that you learned from your father's worst examples." She regarded that with suspicion. "How not to be."

She considered this a moment, then nodded slowly. She spoke softly next. "He taught me to fight with the children who taunted me. And... it gave me satisfaction in that moment. But they would never be my friends because of it." She looked his way again. "When you and I first met, I would never have admitted it at the time, but I was relieved to be working a 'safe' job such as an inn, rather than out on a battlefield. He raised me to be... like him. And I tried to be. But during peaceful times, when I had to do other sort of work... I had to make myself want war. I don't know if I'm making sense." He smiled and nodded.

"To bring up another matter: there was something of a close call with the Ladies today," she continued. "We - I mean all the young Ladies here - were talking about Lucinda, and her marriage to Richard due to her parents' wealth. There was nothing surprising that the Ladies were against such, ah, 'mingling of classes.' Anne was no exception, though it would have been nice if she were. Needless to say, it made me a bit nervous."

"But nobody-"

"-Nobody revealed knowing about me," she finished. "Not that the truth would ever come from me, but sometimes I'm surprised that people haven't worked it out."

"I think that," he said, "If anyone suspected, the mere notion is too fantastic for them to pursue. Royalty simply does not marry commoners." He smiled slyly. "You refused to believe me until the proof was before your eyes!"

"And a little beyond," she added with a sly smile of her own. They briefly traded more kisses, then both fell silent. She let her gaze wander and ended up studying the patterns in one of the window tapestries. Then she felt his hand rubbing her belly. She placed her own hand over his.

"Nothing much to feel right now," she said.

"It doesn't matter," he said. "It's beautiful, either way."

She scoffed. "Hardly. But thank you."

"I mean it," he said. "When I left for the war, you were the same size as now, and when I returned, and saw you so full with child.... With our child, I couldn't believe my eyes. You'd never looked more beautiful." She stared at him in near disbelief. He could fake sincerity for a laugh, but this would be an odd jest. "God willing, I'll be here to see it from start to finish."

She chuckled, in spite of efforts to avoid it. "To watch me swell like a tick? To waddle like a duckling? You find that beautiful?"

"I do," he said with mild indignation. "Oh, laugh if you like."

"Forgive me, dearest," she said. "I didn't mean to belittle. Never. But you know, I see myself and see only a great, big belly."

"A 'great, big belly' that carries our child," he said. "As I said, nothing more beautiful." He rubbed her stomach again, then took up her hand to kiss it. A warmth that fully negated the chilly temperature of the room filled her body. She wrapped both arms around him and pulled him as close to her as could be without becoming one. She pressed her lips hard against his over and over, and would not relent. He was in no hurry to, either.

After several minutes she slid off his lap without losing her embrace. Slowly she moved one of her hands along his lap. "The beast pushed me off, my Lord. I think it has risen from its slumber. Shall I tame it for you?"

He growled playfully at her. She laughed and slid off the davenport to make ready. He took their blanket and draped it over her for warmth while kneeling on the cool floor. He closed his eyes, leaned back against the seat, relaxed, and let her work her magic. In no time he was swimming in a sea of pleasure, drowning in growing ecstasy-

A quiet knocking came at the door. He heard her sighing under the blanket and starting to stand, but he held a gentle hand on her back to stop her.

"They'll hear nothing and go away," he whispered.

"But what if-?"

"Shh!" He rubbed his hand along her back and waited. After a long pause, she resumed the taming of his beast. Soon it would roar-

Miss Daphne opened the door a crack, and peeked in. "Your Highness?" she said apprehensively.

It took him a moment to reclaim his senses. "What? Yes?" he said, mixing casualness with impatience.

"I beg your pardon, my Lord," she said, stepping inside. "I thought that Her Highness might be present."

"Unless Isabel is in dire need," he said quickly, "She's unavailable."

"Oh, no, Your Highness," she said. "Your little one sleeps now and is well. There is merely something I wished to mention to..." Her gaze drifted downwards enough to see feet sticking out from under the blanket draped across his lap. She realized that they were entirely at the wrong angle to be his, and were not a man's. The nanny cried out in embarrassment and ran from the room without another word, only just remembering to shut the door behind herself.

Kelvin found that highly amusing, but Mara did not. She straightened up, letting the blanket fall away onto her shoulders. "Dear," she said sternly, "Now it'll take days to calm her down. She gets so... Ugh."

"I'm not the one who opened the door!"

"Oh, I suppose I'm used to her flustering by now," she said. "Almost. But I am curious what she wants."

"Did it sound urgent?" he asked.

"...No."

"Then by all means," he said, "Find her and ask. Later."

She giggled. "Yes, dear."

******

The adult's breakfast had been served and consumed, but Isabel needed her second breakfast. Queen Anne was perplexed that her friend was still trying to 'do everything' for her daughter, but kept mostly mum about it. Mara preferred to feed Isabel alone, but allowed Miss Daphne's presence to hear her news. Unfortunately she'd been given cause to regret this.

"Your Highness, I cannot apologize enough!"

"Yes, you can," said Mara. "It's been seven times now. I've counted. That's six times more than needed. You are forgiven. Seven times, you're forgiven!." Isabel signaled the need to be moved to her mother's other breast for more sustenance. She was burped and switched without missing a beat.

"When I heard no answer, I should have returned to-"

"Miss Daphne," Mara groaned. "I need you to be silent, or this is what you'll need to apologize for." The nanny was quiet, but was clearly fighting the desire to continue apologizing. Mara watched the nanny as if daring her to speak again. To her credit, she did not. It was not a true silence; Isabel suckled, but this was a calming sound to her mother. After another round of fidgeting, Miss Daphne sat as quietly as she could across from her mistress.

Isabel finished her second breakfast. Miss Daphne set her inside her pen and made sure all toys were present and accounted for. She assisted Mara with cleaning up and fixing her dress, then sat across from her again. Mara sighed again and patted her knees.

"And now," Mara said, "The matter that you sought me for?"

Miss Daphne cleared her throat. "Ah, yes, Your Highness. 'The matter.' It..." She was lost in thought a moment. Then: "You know, now I wonder if I should say anything."

Mara was suddenly very tired. She rested the bridge of her nose on her hand and waited for Miss Daphne to make her decision. Finally the nanny cleared her throat - again - and spoke with renewed determination.

"I will say it," she said, "I will say that..." And then stopped saying anything for a time. Mara did not move from her position. "I-- Her Majesty Queen Genevieve. The Queen Mother. She was my first mistress."

Mara now looked up and gave the nanny her full attention.

"I'm..." Miss Daphne continued, "I'm not certain if she or His Majesty King Rupert have recognized me, but he was my first charge. If you recall, she was the one who would not allow me to rest while ill. Or really, ever." She was quiet again. Then: "That is all that I wanted you to know. Though... having said that, I think that perhaps I should not have?"

"Miss Daphne," said Mara, "You know that you're free to speak your mind with me. Always." Now it was her turn to be lost in thought. Only the sounds of Isabel playing broke the quiet.

Mara returned to her thoughts. "I will say that this greatly colors my view of the Queen Mother. Except that I don't think there would be anything I could say, exactly, that would not... do more harm than good? For example, if you wish for her to apologize-"

"It's nothing like that, Ma'am," said Miss Daphne. "It is... I know that it's in the past. It was only something that I thought might be useful for you to know."

"Thank you," said Mara. "I know that it's very difficult for you to unburden yourself. I'm glad that you shared this." She sighed. "I do so loathe politics. But having watched Anne, I would say that she treats servants as... servants, which is typical of the high-born, but I don't recall her being entirely indifferent to any that are ailing. Still... I will be more watchful. They will be of us, no doubt. That said, is there anything that you'd like me to do? For instance, you wonder if they remember you. Would you like me to remind them?"

"I..." she said. "Please don't trouble yourself, Your Highness. I will not hide from them, but I will not make overtures, either. If they remember me, then I will respond to them in the manner most appropriate to the occasion. If they do not remember me... so be it."

"So be it, then," Mara echoed with a smile. She stood and straightened out her dress. "I should be on my way to the tournament. As you wish, I won't make it a point of bringing you to their attention, but I won't avoid speaking your name in public, either." She winked. "That would make things a little too convoluted."

"Thank you, Ma'am," she said. "Enjoy the tournament. Her Little Highness and I will be in their nursery. I hear that Princess Elizabeth will be there, as well. It would be good for them to become playmates and friends."

Mara grew wistful. "I hope that she has many friends. From all walks of life."

"As many as you?" said Miss Daphne. This puzzled Mara, but when she looked, the nanny had a pleasant expression, not impish. Miss Daphne shrugged. "I imagine that you had many friends growing up, is all. If I may, you are very kind, and people are drawn to that."

Mara had no answer. The nanny knew of the treatment she had received from her father long past, and yet still held a view of her being unaffected by this from the start. She was rather moved by this thought. She watched Isabel playing contentedly in her pen, then smiled and squeezed Miss Daphne's shoulder affectionately. Then she left the room, and walked in silence with Millicent and Fiona, who escorted her to the tournament and her seat beside Anne's.

The Pauper Prince - Part 40

The Pauper Prince
Chapter 40


A typical journey to Halliard was four days, and this was no exception, but seemed twice as long with the inclusion of Princess Isabel the Inconsolable, and her mother, Princess Mara the Fretting. On the first day Isabel was in another carriage, with Miss Daphne, Millicent, and Fiona. Every moment of Isabel crying convinced Mara more and more that she was a horrible mother and was breaking the promise she'd made to her own (rest her soul). The King and Queen finally stopped the caravan when Mara broke down into her own tears to match her daughter's. They sat mostly with hand-on-face while Mara bolted outside to attempt to console her child. Shortly thereafter Kelvin left the carriage to console his wife. His patience with her held, but it was made clear in no uncertain terms that the journey would resume straight away and with original carriage arrangements. As awful as it was to endure their daughter's misery, these trips would become a way of life quickly.

***

On the second day Mara proposed a slight rearrangement in carriage seating; she would ride with Isabel and Miss Daphne and Millicent and Fiona. It would be a tight fit, but, she hoped, a quieter experience for all. Stony silence was her in-laws' reply. It did not consistently mean "yes" or "no," so she assumed the former and made ready to settle in. Kelvin caught up to her and stopped her with a gentle hand to the arm.

"Ride with us," he said, gesturing to the royal carriage.

Mara peered over. The in-laws had already been seated inside. "I doubt that Father and Mother Queen would want her so close, if she begins wailing," she said. "I'm sorry, but where I sit, I want her with me."

"Then ride with me," he said. After a moment, she understood, and explained the change in plans to Miss Daphne and the handmaidens. Miss Daphne was mildly dismayed by this, as she was by almost any straying from the path, but was assured by her mistress that Isabel would be only one carriage away.

Silas and Lily watched the three pile inside the carriage with a mix of confusion and trepidation. Kelvin settled in first. A few moments later, Mara announced her readiness with smiles at all of them.

"Now we all ride together," he announced, and before either monarch could object, knocked on the roof to signal the time to depart. The carriage lurched forward. Mara knew to have a good grip on the girl, and kept her close and safe.

Being in her mother's arms seemed to work; Isabel moaned and groaned some, but was otherwise devoid of tears. She especially liked the Horsey game, where she sat on Mara's thigh and was bounced gently while pretending that her mother's hands were reins. Having had much practice by now at riding, Mara was giving her daughter a subtle lesson in the real movements for guiding a horse.

She kept an ear to the rest of the family's discussions. The usual lofty topics such as taxes, border disputes, the state of roads and bridges, the political movements of other families, and ah, yes, her daughter's potential marriage, were repeated from yesterday. At one point she glanced up at Lily, who sat across from her, and spied a whisper of a smile at the sight of her granddaughter enjoying herself so. Isabel let out a high-pitched, enthusiastic whoop when Mara "reared up." This interrupted Silas' and Kelvin's ever-important discussion; Silas cocked an eyebrow while Kelvin allowed a small smile and caressed Isabel's cheek gently. Mara almost apologized for the outburst, and then reconsidered. They needed to spend more time with their granddaughter, anyway.

*****

They were greeted by Halliard's royal family in the courtyard, including the children. Young Prince Phillip stood between his parents, trying not to look uncomfortable in his tight shirt and trousers. Both families now stood in lines, facing one another. After the initial "Welcome to Halliard!" greeting from its majordomo, Miss Daphne brought Isabel to Kelvin, who took her into his own arms and held her to face her potential in-laws. Isabel countered this by turning and wrapping her arms around his neck, then trying to bury her face into his shoulder. Mara stood still but sneaked glances his way while fighting to keep smiling at their hosts.

Until: "Dear?" Her assistance was needed! She mouthed an "excuse me" while helping Kelvin unwrap their daughter from her attempted chokehold, all the while keeping watch on Rupert's and Anne's reactions. They gave a good show of neutral expressions, but she detected a slight upturning of the lips - briefly - on Queen Anne.

Lily showed her impatience by stepping over to offer quiet advice. Mara kept up her smile while insisting to the Queen that the little Princess would be calm soon. To the relief of all, she was, and Mara stepped back into place while Kelvin once again held her to face the Funteyns. He chuckled while apologizing for the delay.

Anne flashed a smile that disappeared as quickly. "Yes, infants will do as they please."

"Friends," said Kelvin, "Dear friends. It is our honor and privilege to introduce you to our first-born, Princess Isabel Cassandra Lily Allard of Gildern."

Rupert and Anne stepped forward to exami-- no, not examine, Mara thought. To meet her. Not take her measure. Isabel clearly did not appreciate the attention of strangers, but at least she stayed put this time and did not try to hide her face. But she was certainly not smiling.

"Please forgive her lack of enthusiasm, Your Majesties," Mara said quietly. "It is her first long journey, and she's so very tired."

Anne looked her way and scoffed. "Anne," she said with a tilt of her head. "And it is our honor and privilege to finally meet your little one. Though she's hardly so 'little' now, I see!"

All within earshot chuckled at Anne's joke - some only politely.

"She's beautiful," said Rupert with unabashed sincerity. He beckoned over their eldest, Prince Phillip, who had been looking bored as well as uncomfortable. "Come meet her, son."

Kelvin leaned forward to give the boy a better view. Phillip stood tiptoe long enough to have a look, then dropped back to his heels. "What do you think?" asked his father.

Phillip shrugged. "She's a baby, Father."

Rupert leaned over and spoke in lower tones. "One that may become your wife someday." Phillip stood tiptoe again for a longer look, then relaxed and nodded to his father.

Anne stepped in and bade the children's caretakers to prepare them for the formal presentation. Half of the Allards' handmaidens and valets went inside first to prepare their respective quarters. The rest stood by to render any other assistance to their Lords and Ladies. Mara was ready to sleep for the rest of the day, even though it was early afternoon at the latest, but rest was a long time away. They could do what they wished in their quarters, as long as all were ready for Isabel's formal presentation in an hour. No rest, in other words.

***

Lily deluged Mara with all sorts of advice on their way. It was Mara and Kelvin who needed to make a good impression, not the in-laws. Mara wondered aloud if their mutual friendship did not trump presentation, and was given a Look. She wondered to herself if Kelvin would require the same amount of primping, but already knew the answer.

Fiona was the one who had been sent ahead to begin preparing their room. Millicent stepped ahead of her mistress to open the chamber door for her. The unpacking was unfinished, but Mara's and Isabel's formal clothing had been removed and laid out carefully. Also unpacked was Mara's tiara, which at this time was on Fiona's head as she admired herself unawares in a looking glass.

Millicent gasped and clapped her hands sharply, startling Fiona almost enough for her to drop the heirloom. She stormed inside, followed by a puzzled Mara and Lily, who had not seen this sorry breach of manners and protocol.

"Fiona!" snapped Millicent. "You are never to touch Her Highness' things without cause, nor without leave! We have less than an hour to prepare, and you're playing with priceless jewels! Know your place!"

"I'm, I'm, I'm-!" Fiona stammered, cowering as she carefully handed the tiara back to the senior handmaiden, who took it just as carefully, but with barely restrained anger.

Lily leaned close to murmur into Mara's ear. "I did warn you," but Mara was not listening.

"Millicent!" she snapped curtly, to the handmaiden's surprise. "This is too harsh. Yes, Fiona did not ask, and we have much to do, but this is no time to lose our tempers."

"I beg your pardon, Your Highness," said Millicent, "But it is the perfect time to. She knows better than this."

"I only wore it for a little bit!" said Fiona. "You came in right after I-"

"Oh, stop it," said Millicent. "And finish preparing our Lady's room!"

"Everyone!" said Mara, holding out her hands. "We will be calm now." She paused to make sure her words were heard. Millicent dutifully stood with her hands clasped in front. Fiona began stammering an explanation and apology.

"Fiona," said Mara firmly but without anger. "Fiona." The girl finally quieted down. "It's all right. You hear my tone. You see my appearance. There is no anger. It's true that you need to ask before handling our more delicate items. That lesson has been learned. Yes?" After a pause, Fiona nodded. "Millicent, organization is your strength, so I'd like you to prepare only what we need for the presentation. The rest can wait. Fiona, please assist Miss Daphne with dressing Isabel. Follow her directions exactly. After I've changed into my other gown, will you arrange my hair?"

"Oh, yes, Your Highness!" Fiona's smile had also returned. "I like fixing your hair."

"And I like how you fix my hair," said Mara with a wink. After watching her assistants continue their work in apparent peace, she stepped into the corridor and shut the door after Lily joined her. She sighed and rubbed her face.

"That wasn't bad," said Lily. Mara stopped rubbing her face and peered at her curiously. "They're not fighting. But I did warn you about the girl."

"Yes, Mother Queen, you did," she said tiredly. "But my mind is set. Say it as often as you wish, but I'm pleased with her work."

"As am I," said Lily. "But my advice would be for her to remain in the room and finish its preparation while we present Isabel."

****

Little Isabel, in a long, flowing white dress that might have reminded some of a baptismal gown, sat awkwardly in a chair just her size but raised high enough for adults to not have to stoop too much. Kelvin and Mara, each one gussied up in their own way, stood proudly on either side of her. Miss Daphne, Millicent, and Fiona stood behind their mistress, just as Kelvin's valets stood behind their master. Silas and Lily stood at each end of the royal lineup.

Mara resisted the urge to reach up and check her tiara. Heather had taught Fiona and Millicent the trick of weaving a few slivers of hair through the tiara to hold it in place. She could tilt her head any which way, and it would not fall off. For being a formal presentation, the proceedings were surprisingly informal. It reminded Mara of when Isabel was first born, when aristocrats queued to view her, chatted with the new parents, and then moved on to eat and chat amongst themselves. The proceedings here were similar. Anne's youngest, Elizabeth, quietly asked her mother if she could play with Isabel later. Mara smiled and nodded in the affirmative. Anne said, "We shall see."

****

Anne was puzzled by Mara's insistence on feeding Isabel herself rather than take advantage of the castle's wet nurses. Afterwards Miss Daphne took the little Princess away for a much-needed nap, and possibly one of her own. Those in attendance this evening had naturally segregated into groups of men and women, further segregated by age.

"Ahh!" said Anne after a servant handed her much-needed wine. The (young) Ladies of the court had claimed a corner in the main hall and had their chairs arranged in a semi-circle. Anne took Mara's hand and shook it playfully.

"Now to important matters," she said, and reached over to pat Mara's belly. "Is it true?" Mara turned red, smiled, and laid her own hand on her belly. Anne all but squealed in delight. "Ohhh, it is! Happy news, my friend! May you be blessed with a son next!" Other Ladies nodded and murmured congratulations. Mara thanked them, but before she could add anything profound, such as being delighted with any healthy child, Anne leaned in close to whisper. "But then, Thomas could use a bride, too, hm?" She giggled and winked before straightening up. Mara only smiled.

Anne suddenly became somber. "We've heard other news, as well," she said. "Is it true that you've lost a friend recently?"

"Ah," said Mara, "Yes. One... almost two months ago. Countess Lucinda. In fact, I learned of it... right after returning home from our last visit here."

"Ohh. We are sorry for your loss."

"Thank you."

"I heard," said another Lady, a Duchess, "That she died by her own hand. Your Highness?" The others looked at her expectantly.

"Uh," said Mara quietly. She rubbed her hands. "I'm afraid that it is true, your Grace. She was... troubled. Happiness always seemed just out of her grasp. I did what I could to help, but... Well. She was a dear friend, and I mourn her loss. I pray that she's at peace now."

"Lucinda..." said another. "Oh, yes, I recall her." She spoke while sipping at wine. "Your Highness, if you will allow another question?" Mara leaned in as a way of permission. "Do you know the truth of the rumor that her marriage was from money and not ... birthright?"

Anne scoffed. "Oh, Gertrude, must your words always be so clouded?" She looked to Mara. "She wonders if your friend had been a commoner who married into her title."

"A wealthy one, at least," Lady Gertrude corrected.

"Er, yes," said Mara. "I suppose it's all right to say. She'd called it a 'poorly-kept secret.' Yes, her family was not high-born, but wealthy. Or is? I would imagine it still is. Count Richard had his title but lacked funds. So... there was that arrangement."

"Hmph," said another Lady, nibbling at biscuits, which dropped crumbs freely onto her gown. "Some kingdoms allow that sort of thing. Mingling of classes. Peasants trying to feel important, I suppose."

"Gildern 'allows that sort of thing,'" said Mara stiffly. Her calm demeanor hid choppy waters behind it.

"Of course it does," said the Lady to herself, realizing the hole whose edge she walked. "I meant no offense, Your Highness."

"I will take none," said Mara. "It's a, pardon the pun, common view among the high-born. Speaking of which, please: we are all friends here, aren't we? 'Mara' is fine."

"And 'Your Majesty' is fine with me," said Anne, smiling slyly at the others, some of whom chuckled. She patted Mara's hand. "Please continue, dear. I'm sure that Silas must have his reasons for allowing it, but what do you think?"

"I?"

"Well, yes," said Anne. "You do seem rather... permissive with your servants. But would, say, a footman be allowed to woo your daughter?" Some Ladies snickered at the thought.

"Well... Well, no," said Mara. "After all, she's already wooed by your son. Who is, of course, no footman."

"Indeed not," said Anne. "I meant, given no arrangement, would...? You know, it matters not. Of course you wouldn't allow it. Now, in your friend's case, mmmm, well, I can see there being an exception. A Count in dire straits doesn't have the 'pull,' shall we say, of those above him. Those who could still marry a peer or near it, in spite of poor finances."

"Hm, yes, well," said Mara. "But bear in mind that King Silas does not make decisions lightly nor without great thought. So, if he approves of a, um, 'mingled marriage,' then be assured that he brought all his wisdom to bear. My own marriage to Kelvin was subject to prolonged, ah, analysis."

Anne had been sipping wine and almost spit it out. She chuckled and patted Mara's shoulder. "'Analysis,'" she echoed. "I do love your choice of words sometimes." Mara flashed an embarrassed smile. "Now I recall that you were-" A tingle shot down Mara's spine "-A Countess before then, yes?" Mara nodded. "Some might argue that that's practically starting as a peasant to begin with!"

"Oh, Your Majesty," protested another Countess present.

"Ladies, I tease," she said, smiling broadly. "But really; how often does one take that kind of leap? The lowest rank to royalty? Now, not that I disparage you, Mara. Please don't think that. You are Gildern's Princess, and that is that. And someday our families will be joined by blood as well as friendship."

For the first time, Mara placed a hand on Anne's. She smiled, then thought to raise her drink in a toast. The other Ladies joined in the clinking of glasses. Anne drank first, per her rank. "Little Isabel is a beautiful child," she said.

"Thank you so much," said Mara. "And little Phillip, he is quite a handsome boy."

"Mm-hm," said Anne, who almost took another sip, then nursed her drink. She began swirling it in the glass and stared at it while speaking. "There is something that--" she said, then looked Mara's way. "I can't help wondering about something."

"Oh?"

"Well..." said Anne, "It may come to nothing. You and Kelvin... You're both quite, ah, tall. I daresay there's not a woman here - and some men - whom you don't tower over."

"Not I," offered a Lady.

"All right, not you, Jacquelyn," said Anne with a wink. "She's merely-- half a head higher. But Mara, what I mean to say is, that children do tend to inherit notable characteristics of their parents. Rupert and I are... not of any great height, so it may be fair to say that neither will Phillip. But if 'little' Isabel grows up to be 'not-very-little-at-all' Isabel, I can't help but wonder what would be done over it."

"You're...." Mara began, then paused to straighten out her dress before clasping her hands together in her lap. She spoke a question, but its tone was more declarative. "You're concerned that Isabel will end up taller than Phillip."

"In a word: yes."

Though it was unneeded, Mara straightened her gown again.

The Pauper Prince - Part 39

The Pauper Prince
Chapter 39


The Changing of the Handmaidens resulted in the loss of Heather and the gaining of Millicent and Fiona. Heather was sad but hopeful. There was no telling in which direction her life would turn until the baby arrived, but until then, she looked forward to seeing if plying her skills at hair arrangement and handmade fragrances would earn her some coin. Mara assured her that, now that she was untethered to the work of a handmaiden, her former mistress would send any and all Ladies her way who'd begged for her services. Having the Princess as a regular client might generate some good word, as well.

Prior to this, Heather had agreed to try a favor for the Princess: her own parlor would not do, but Heather's humble home might be suitable to provide a small space for any women, willing or able, to gather, eat, drink, discuss... and learn. Mara could not build a school, but she was not forbidden from gathering with others for similar purpose. Still, there was danger to it without a blessing from their Majesties. When Mara had asked, she gave Heather full choice to withdraw. She was eager to try, anyway.

Millicent was two years older than Mara and could read and write to her satisfaction. She also seemed willing and able to have conversations with Mara not centered around what tasks to perform. Assistants that did more than simply assist were important to the Princess. As for Fiona, her reading skills were poor at best. Mara had been told by both the Queen and Heather that she was "slow" and not well-suited for any but simple tasks. The Queen had even attempted to talk her out of accepting Fiona. She confessed privately that Fiona had been taken on as an apprentice handmaiden as a favor to a friend, more than her own merits. Which friend, and the origin of the favor, Mara did not ask. Fiona was sweet and eager to please, and reminded Mara of Heather for this. Also, she had taken well to Heather's instructions for braidery and proper dressing more than Millicent had, whose strengths were organizational over aesthetic. Mara would work through any "slowness" that appeared.

An important, but not critical, factor was that her new assistants got on well with Miss Daphne. Fiona already enjoyed Isabel's presence and offered to assist her Lady and the nanny with her care. To absolutely no surprise to Mara, Miss Daphne turned down the offer, albeit politely. She though that a private talk with the nanny later might remedy that, but would not force the issue. Other than that, her new staff's first breakfast meeting began and ended without shouting. The girls knew about the Princess' odd lack of royal protocol and the promise of a day off. Millicent was undecided about the latter. She was still concerned about the Queen's wishes, which did not quite match her new mistress'. Fiona also wished to make both women happy, but took Tuesday for herself.

As for Mara's trio of guidelines, for the first time she had consciously removed the third before relaying them to her assistants. They were still to sit (or stand) up straight and look her in the eye when speaking to her, but to call her Mara... She needed to think about it. She did not agree often with the Queen, but had to concede a point. Heather's dismissal had hit her hard - almost as if losing her in death. There was wisdom in not getting overly close to one's staff. It remained to be seen how wise she could be.

**********

Isabel was deemed capable of travel. The Family was to bring her to Halliard as soon as possible for presentation to its new King and Queen. If Isabel pleased them, she and young Prince Philip would almost certainly be promised to each other. Mara had learned that, at one time, Flora had been a prospective bride for Prince Rupert himself, but a series of political dealings had resulted in Anne's marriage to him. King Silas and Queen Lily were astute enough to continue good relations with Halliard in spite of the personal slight. And they continued actively seeking marriage for her until she was taken from them. The same happened for Robert.

The day before leaving, Mara chanced upon King Silas alone in his chambers. This was extremely rare for him and the Queen, to be unaccompanied by even one attendant. She knocked quietly against the door frame and waited. He glanced her way and beckoned her inside. She made a half-dip to him before standing with hands clasped lightly in front.

"Sire," she said. He nodded once in greeting. "Do you have a moment?"

"Always," he said, hinting at a smile.

This was the first time she had heard this. Nevertheless she suppressed a smile. "If I may, Sire: tomorrow we will travel to Halliard to visit our friends and allies. But mostly to... offer Isabel to them. I hesitate to say 'inspection,' but if our purpose is to present her as a potential bride to their young Prince, I..." Her words faded, and she looked away to fidget.

He tsked. "This is not a future Queen I see before me," he said.

"...What?"

"Stand tall. Speak boldly." She looked his way, but continued to fidget. "Relax your arms. Stop fidgeting."

"I am sorry, Sire," she said, making a game effort to comply. "Mother Queen is fond of reminding me of these things, too. I shall do better."

"You haven't called me 'Father' in a long time," he said. Her eyes widened a little. "I like when you do that."

"I..." she said, "I didn't know that. Father." She smiled. "I will say so more often. But only privately, yes? Around family?"

"No," he said, rubbing his chin. "You may be freer with it. Let's say, under the same circumstances that Kelvin would. But I've interrupted. Continue: what do you need from this old man?"

"Oh, S-- Father, you're not old," she said. "What I've been pondering of late... Uh... When Isabel is brought to them, they will-- for lack of a better term -- inspect her, and I can't help wondering what they'll be looking for, exactly? She is still but an infant. Other than... I suppose defects, I wonder what it is that would lead them to think she should be betrothed here and now to their son? Who is himself still playing hopscotch and hide and seek?"

The King folded his arms. "Diplomacy," he said with a smirk and a twinkle. "In truth, this is a formality. They've all but put their names to it. I wouldn't worry, Mara."

"You misunderstand, Father," she said. "Yes, I realize this a political step for our kingdoms, but... Well, you said 'speak boldly,' so here it is: I feel as though we're bringing her to market. To be weighed and wrapped and set with a price on her side. To be bought and sold. There. I have said it."

"Too boldly," he said, now glaring. "You will not use those words around them."

"I don't intend to," she said. "They are for your ears only. Father: hear me. Our law gives you and Kelvin the right to final approval of your own brides. I stand before you - gratefully, to be sure - because of this very law. And yet I've found no such law for our Queen. Or Princess."

She paused for a retort, and when none came, she continued. "Because we are women. You don't have to say it; I know this is why. But this lack of recourse for her, should young Prince Phillip turn out to be... not to her liking, is what troubles me. What, then, could be done for her?"

The King sighed. "It would be unwise to raise that concern with them, either. They wouldn't take well to an implication that their son, a Prince, is unworthy of our Princess."

"I don't mean to imply that, Father."

"Then what do you mean?"

She began to reply, but the words failed her. She bit her lip in thought and silently cursed that her eyes were starting to moisten. "I think it's something as simple as... that I want her to be happy. She's not even done teething, and is all but betrothed to a boy. A Prince he may be, but... I desire that she had the right to choose for herself. As Kelvin did. Isn't there some way that she can?"

The King needed time to respond, as well. After rubbing his chin in thought, he spoke. There was a gentleness to his voice that she had not heard in a while. "A lot can happen from now until Isabel comes of age," he said. "But we won't assume the worst, correct? They're not just going to 'inspect' her, but also meet her for the first time. Phillip's illness prevented their traveling, after all. And they'll be excited for your next child."

He patted her belly gently. Mara blushed and placed her hand on his. "As for her 'recourse,'" he continued, "We don't intend to marry her off and then walk away. Mara, you're failing to see the joy in this occasion. We've lost so much, this kingdom. You and Kelvin are rebuilding our family, and by that, the kingdom itself. The Funteyns would be our friends and allies even without a marriage, but why end it there? Why not make them family, too? We have everything to gain by this."

"Yes, Father," she said. "I understand better now."

"And don't forget," he said, "Prince Phillip is beholden to treat her with respect, at the very least, and she to him. If the Funteyns betray that compact, well... It's my granddaughter they'd be harming. They would do well to remember that."

Mara smiled and took his hand to kiss it. "Thank you, Father. I will do my best to be joyful. And yet, is there any hope for that law to be amended? Or a new one added?"

"...Not at the moment, no."

"Father-"

"One concern at a time, Mara," he said, his sternness returning. "It is not as simple as 'you are women.' It's about the intricacies of political and social power. Like it or not, this is still a man's world."

"I'm not blind to this," she said. "My hope is that Gildern will become a beacon someday, to guide others toward new ways. New paths. Change is good."

"It depends on the change," he said. When she looked his way, he winked. "Kelvin choosing you was not as simple as you might have thought, you know."

"Believe me," she said, "I did not perceive it as simple."

"If circumstances had been even slightly different," he said, "It would have been impossible." She nodded. "Did he ever tell you how he was after we lost Robert and Flora?"

"He told me about how they died," she said. "How he was at their side at all times. Tried to cheer them up. And that he plays the lute in Flora's honor."

"Anything else?"

"Mm... I don't believe so," she said.

"Hm,' he said. "It's just as well. He was... not right after their deaths. Besides blaming himself, he blamed us, too. As though we had the power to stop it. We thought it was the right thing to do, to remove him from the room when Flora breathed her last. To spare him... that sight. He barely spoke to us for months. I think that, in some way, he still hasn't quite forgiven us. Their losses broke him. Us, too, but..." He sighed. "It was as if our son had been replaced by a changeling. There was naught to him then but anger, sullenness, and silent recriminations. He destroyed possessions; he even took out his anger on servants. It took us three years to tamp down the fires of his rage, but even with that, there was no joy in him. None. His heart was an empty vessel."

"Even so, it became time for him to fulfill his duty to the kingdom and choose a bride. You know that we selected three girls for him, but you might not know that there was a dearth of Princesses, or really any eligible, high-born women. Still is, to be honest. The girls we selected were of no special political importance, other than to their respective families. That, you see, is the only reason he even had an option to turn any of them down, let alone choose you, a commoner. One potential was his cousin, in fact: Duchess Cecily. But even as children the two loathed one another. I can only imagine what their wedding day would have been like, never mind their wedding night." Mara could not help a snicker at that.

"Why did we ultimately bless your marriage, then?" he asked. "Because upon his return, there was... There was joy. A light in his eyes that we hadn't seen in years. We couldn't get him to talk about anything else except you. Extolling your virtues, etc. Eventually we realized: our son had not just returned, but had returned. The son we'd lost those years ago. Returned by you." He locked eyes with hers. "That is why we blessed your marriage. That is why we call you Daughter."

Mara felt the tears welling up, but did not wipe them away. She smiled broadly and leaned in for an embrace. Silas hesitated, then gave in and wrapped his arms tightly around her. After some time she kissed his cheek before letting go. He sneaked in a kiss to her forehead before they had fully parted.

"I didn't choose Lily," he said. "Or that is, our parents arranged our marriage, but I approved her as my bride, per the law. I just didn't go against their choice."

"And Kelvin did," she said. He shrugged. "Father, may I ask something... personal? I think I know the answer, but I would still like to ask."

"Then ask."

"Do you love her?" she said. "Lily? I mean, Mother Queen?"

"Not at first," he said. "At the time she was simply acceptable as my wife. But now.." He smiled gently, as gently as she'd ever seen. He leaned closer as if to reveal some great conspiracy. "I would gladly die for her," he whispered.

The Pauper Prince - Part 38

The Pauper Prince
Chapter 38


"No."

Mara just stared at first. Her lips moved slightly as if to reply, then she straightened up to compose herself. Kelvin stood beside her and tightened his mouth, but seemed to be following her lead.

"Mara, your heart is in the right place," said the King. "Do not think that I am against the 'benefiting of women,' as you put it. But this is not the way. Selling your possessions will do more harm than good, and your school, if finished in your lifetime, would stand empty."

"I see," she said quietly. "Thank you, Sire, for giving it consideration. I will not attempt to sell my possessions for the purpose of building a school." The King and Queen nodded in acknowledgement. "But what am I to do with them?"

The King furrowed his brow. "Keep them," he said as though the answer were obvious.

"I realize that is the simplest option," she said, "But I'd like some good to come of them. If I have no need of them, how may they be of use to others?"

"What is this talk?" said the Queen impatiently. "They were gifts, Mara. And this is how you show your gratitude? By placing them on sale?"

"Mother," said Kelvin. "Father. If I may; it is not a reflection of ingratitude, I assure you. Her true intention is to share her good fortune with those with little, or no, fortunes. No offense is meant. But yes; we will find another way."

"'We?'"

"I've made no secret of supporting her," he said. Mara turned his way and smiled as he spoke. "If she wishes to build a school, then I'll help her."

"She is not building a school," said the King.

"We know that, Father. I only meant... that I support her. That is all."

"Very well," said the Queen. "As long as our Prince and Princess are not seen as paupers, in need of raising funds to live. In fact..." She paused and seemed to be wrestling with a decision. "Well, it may be of no use to say, but Mara, you may as well know that your lack of... interest in royal fashion has resulted in some gossip." Mara suppressed a preemptive smirk. The sort of gossip that came from her 'peers' rarely failed to amuse her. "Your insistence upon, shall we say, plainer attire than is customary for royalty has caused some to refer to you as..." She sighed. "The 'Peasant Princess.'"

Mara and Kelvin traded glances, then broke down at once into loud snickers and chortles.

The Queen clapped her hands twice, quickly and loudly. "Stop that, both of you!" she said. The King added his own glare to hers. "This is most indecorous! It is not amusing that your peers think of you as a peasant! Savvy??"

They had begun to calm themselves as soon as the Queen clapped at them, but Mara needed an extra moment or two to cover her mouth and flush out the last of her mirth. "I beg your pardon, Mother Queen," she said. "I 'savvy.' Please forgive my... inappropriate response."

"And mine," said Kelvin.

The Queen folded her arms and hit them with a truly withering gaze. Mara could almost feel its power.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"It might interest you to know," said the Queen. "That I heard the term but once before ending it for good and all. One hopes."

"Thank you," said Mara. "What is it, then, that you wish me to do?"

"Just..." the Queen said, and then sighed again. "Think about these things that I've told you time and again. As unimportant as you think it to be, in the courts, appearances. matter. As does behavior. Someday Kelvin will be King. You, his Queen. I have seen you behave as one before. I know you can do it again. Which brings me to this: sometimes we must make the hard decisions." Mara tried not to appear worried. "Your 'assistant' Heather. She is married and still serves you. We have allowed this. But now she is with child, as are you." The Queen paused and appeared to be choosing her next words carefully. Mara felt a chill. "Do I need to say what's to come?"

"No, Mother Queen," said Mara, then forced a smile. "But then, we're both months away from... from any sort of impediments in movement, or... What I mean to say is, she's still more than able to perform her tasks and-!"

"Mara," said the Queen. "It must be done sooner rather than later. Her place is with her husband and future child."

"Mother," said Kelvin, "You and Father gave her leave to rule her people as she sees fit. And they've known each other since Mara's first day here. They are, dare I say it, friends. You're asking her to dismiss her friend."

"This is exactly what I meant by hard decisions," said the Queen. Mara looked to the King, who only shook his head before nodding it towards his wife. "And our advice not to befriend the servants. She has other duties now. Too many for her to do a proper job for her mistress. Mara: she must be dismissed." Mara could not help but look down. "No no. You stand tall and listen. You knew this was coming."

Mara straightened up, but not as much as she might have. The Queen was not finished. "Frankly, I don't understand why you've insisted on only one handmaiden all this time." Mara glanced in the direction of the Queen's own attendants, who hung back along the walls and pretended not to be listening.

"Mother Queen," she said, "I mean no disrespect to them." She addressed the attendants. "Truly. It's not a reflection on you, but on me. Heather and I, we've grown together-"

"We know this," said the Queen, directing Mara's attention back her way. "But remember: there are attendants that are practically idle because you make no use of them. And as your belly swells, you'll need more help; you know this. Heather will be of less use to you as time goes by and her own child grows. Speaking of which, why is she not here now?"

"It's Tuesday," Mara said flatly. Off the Queen's puzzled look: "She doesn't work on Tuesdays."

The Queen sighed, then muttered, "Ah, yes, more idleness that you encourage. I hear that even the nanny has been so persuaded."

"Yes," said Mara. "She rests on Sunday. And her spirits have been lifted for it. As have Heather's. They return to their tasks... energized. Miss Daphne has even become talkative. She's even smiled. Mother Queen, please."

"No," she said. "I do not do this to be cruel or callous. I know how close you are to her, and this is why it pains you so. But a personal servant to royalty must be unfettered, and she is not, and will be less so each day. Do you understand?"

"Yes, My Lady."

"Stand tall," said the Queen. "Stand tall."

Kelvin put a comforting arm around his wife. "Mother, don't worry. It... shall be done. But let her have this moment. This is her first 'hard decision.'"

"No, it isn't," she whispered.

"Your first royal one," he whispered back.

The Queen continued, "It's not as though the girl will be banished from the kingdom. She will still live on the grounds. For you to... visit, or whatever you see fit. Meanwhile, think of the two attendants that you would like to replace her. Two, mind you."

Mara resumed her flat tone. "Yes, Mother Queen."

"Well, let us burden the men no more with our concerns," said the Queen, nodding to her husband and son. She offered her arm to Mara, who stared at it a few seconds. She went to the King and kissed his cheek, then took the Queen's arm and allowed her to escort her from the room. The attendants dutifully followed them.

Halfway down the corridor, the Queen let go. "You have one month."

Mara's thoughts had been elsewhere. She snapped to attention after the Queen cleared her throat. "Ma'am?"

"I said that you have one more month with Heather," said the Queen. "Before she begins 'showing,' and for her to assist and train those who will replace her. But if hers is a difficult pregnancy from the start, then she leaves sooner and tends to her own needs. Do you understand?"

"...Yes," said Mara in mild surprise. "That is... Thank you, Mother Queen. You are most generous."

The Queen nodded in acknowledgement. Mara kissed her hand, then moved ahead of the Queen and her group, but not so quickly as to appear rushed. She reached her own chambers and checked both rooms. She was alone. After confirming this, she dropped her regal composure and allowed tears to flow.

A few minutes later, an idea formed that comforted her and enabled her to quell the tears then and there. After checking the looking glass for reddened eyes, she was satisfied with her appearance and went to the nursery. Miss Daphne, as Mara had said, had a more relaxed demeanor around her mistress, and smiled at her arrival.

*****

Heather took the news with quiet dignity and grace. She, too, "knew it was coming," and had used her day off to prepare herself for it. That they had one more month together was a happy surprise. Mara had been fighting tears all the while in giving her the news. Both her assistant's unexpectedly calm demeanor, and the Queen's words about her inner Queenliness, gave her the strength to appear as regal as possible. She looked proudly at Heather, then smiled and pulled her into a full hug.

"Oh!" said Heather. "My Lady, don't worry. I'll be fine. And Leonard and I are... improving."

"It isn't that," said Mara, and kissed the top of her head before parting. "Or yes, I am pleased to hear about you and Leonard. But I was just remembering how we first met. How we were then versus how we are now. Sometimes these things occur to me, is all."

"Mm-hm," said Heather, nodding in apparent lack of comprehension. Then she giggled. "Oh! Yes." She raised her arms in mock terror. " 'Ahhh, an armed madwoman is chasing me, ahhh!' "

They broke down into mutual giggling. Mara managed a sigh. "I'd like to think that I wake up a bit less wildly these days."

"Really?" said Heather. "Doesn't your husband prefer more?"

Mara furrowed her brow in puzzlement, then suddenly burst into guffaws and slapped her shoulder. "You naughty, naughty thing!" Their mutual laughter continued for minutes on end. Whenever they began to calm down, one of them would voice more ribald thoughts, and they would lose control again.

Eventually the two ran out of bawdy humor, and quieted enough to fall together on the parlor's settee. Heather hummed to herself and patted her belly, though there was nothing to pat this early on. "Mara," she said, "Do you know who'll replace me?"

"First, nobody can replace you," she said. "Next, I really haven't decided. Lily has allowed me to work with each for a few days. Except Violetta and Agatha. They're strictly 'hers.'" Heather nodded. "I'm required to choose two."

Heather smirked. "Well, of course. It takes at least two to make one of me."

"Oh, you," said Mara, and smirked back. "Really, these sorts of rules are nonsensical. The idea that women become incapacitated while with child, and beyond. Ophelia still works as a seamstress. Our farrier has three children, and she still shoes our horses and aids her husband's smithing. And on and on. Why, I myself waddled by Lily's side as she made her rounds, almost to the last. But if an assistant dares to be with child, off she goes! If I were Queen, I wouldn't follow such blanket rules. I would allow each woman to make up her own mind. Even my assistants."

"Mm," said Heather, smiling. "When you're Queen, I look forward to that."

Mara nodded once firmly and folded her arms. But she had reacted to Heather's tone and not the words. Then her words finally drifted into her thoughts. When you're Queen...

"It bothers Lily that I only named you as my assistant," she said. "Most of what I do bothers her. I don't mean to be contradictory. Or 'defiant.' We have a natural difference of opinions, is all. It's not meant to be defiance. I think I embarrass her without even trying." Heather raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Heather, have you ever heard anyone refer to me as a 'Peasant Princess?'"

"A 'Peasant's Princess?'" said Heather. "As in a Princess of Peasants? Of the People? You know that-"

"It's not what I meant," said Mara. "Lily claims that 'others' have called me that because I'm apparently like a peasant to... well, whoever the 'others' are." She shook her head. "It's not important. Kelvin and I tried to laugh it off, though Lily and Silas were not laughing."

"I don't know what to say, Ma'am," said Heather. "I haven't heard 'others' speak of you that way. Though this talk of peasant royalty and such does make me think of something. An old bit of gossip. An old rumor. I know you don't indulge, but it's possible that you would know?"

Mara said nothing, but only watched her as if silently permitting her to continue.

"It's said that," Heather continued, "When His Highness the Prince left the castle nearly two years ago, that he lived disguised as a commoner?" Mara stared. "As a 'peasant' himself?" No reply. "Some here said that he'd gone mad. Others, like me, thought that he just wanted to be left alone. It was during that time that you and His Highness met, yes?"

"Yes."

"Oh," said Heather. "Then... is that true? Did he live as a commoner?"

"I will say... that I did not know he was the Prince when we met," said Mara. "Not until after I'd accepted his proposal, and we were on our way here."

"How wouldn't you recognize him as the Prince?" asked Heather. "Was his disguise that good?"

"I was a stranger to these lands," said Mara. "I didn't know his face on sight. You saw my... strange attire when I arrived. Typical clothing where I'm from." For mercenary work, she thought.

Heather nodded. "How did he present himself? As a wealthy commoner? A nobleman, just not a royal one?"

"Heather," said Mara, fidgeting, "He asked for my hand in marriage because he loves me. I said yes because I love him, too. Is there more that you need?"

"Forgive me, Ma'am," she said, bowing her head. "There's nothing I 'need' to know. But you two... Your marriage... You love one another like nothing I've ever seen. It's like the sort you read about in stories, that no one believes, but wishes they were true. And yet, here is your story, and it is true. I just... I've always wanted to know how you met. How you came to love one another. It sounds like it would be wonderful to hear. But if you won't, or can't tell it, I'll say no more."

"Can't..." Mara whispered, and wiped at a moistening eye. "Not even to my dearest friend."

"I see."

Mara looked her full in the face. "It's not unheard of for a commoner to marry a high-born." Her mouth twitched. "If you believe any of the stories."

Heather met her gaze in full, then slowly smiled and took her Lady's hand to kiss it. "I believe one of them," she said. "Hear me." Mara looked away, now batting at tears. "Hear me, Mara." She did, but sniffled and shook her head. "Your Highness." Now Mara looked her way. "I don't care where you came from, or what you were before. You are my Princess. Someday you'll be my Queen. I wouldn't wish for anyone else."

Mara smiled through her tears and caressed her cheek. "And this is why I weep at the thought of losing you," she said. "You are an angel. But you know that others would not think as you do. Please, Heather. This cannot leave the room."

Heather scoffed and straightened up. "My Lady, you wound me," she said in mock indignation. "I am a terrible gossip. I thrive on rumor. It is the lifeblood and currency of us servants, and I am their Queen of Innuendo. But I swear to you, on all that I deem sacred, that I have never - never - betrayed your secrets. Not your betrothal to His Highness, not your fears, not your uncertainties, and not the scars that your own father gave you."

Mara touched one of her arms, right where one of her many healed wounds lay hidden under her clothing.

"You didn't even know me," she said quietly. "I would've thought everyone on the grounds would know by nightfall."

"That sort of thing is beyond gossip," said Heather. "To make it an entertainment for others... I couldn't do that. Not even for someone I didn't know. "

Mara did not reply at first, but looked away in thought. Finally she leaned over on the settee and pulled Heather into another hug. "Thank you," she whispered before letting go.

"You're welcome," said Heather with a smile. The women sat quietly. Then: "But I did tell them about being chased."

Mara leaned away and stared at her in wide-eyed surprise. Heather cringed and prepared to throw herself at her Lady's mercy. But Mara snickered, then burst into merry laughter.

After a moment she was joined by her much relieved friend.

The Pauper Prince - Part 37

The Pauper Prince
Chapter 37



"No."

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

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

"No," said the King.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It-- Truly? Just like that?"

Mara smiled. "Just like that."

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

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

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

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

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

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

So was her assistant.

The Pauper Prince - part 36

The Pauper Prince
Chapter 36


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

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

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

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

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

But.. she could have saved her!

Couldn't she?

*******

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Your Highness, please..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*****

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

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

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

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

"Zhhee!"

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

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

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

"What news, dearest?" said Mara.

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

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

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

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

"What news, dearest?" he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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