The Pauper Prince - part 14

The Pauper Prince
Chapter 14

  An hour earlier Heather had created a minor masterpiece of braidery with Mara's hair, humming all the while, before taking leave of her mistress. As soon as the sprightly girl had left, Mara returned to her brooding and spinning of her sword. The sound of the leather scabbard's tip on the floor changed suddenly, becoming harder and sharper. She examined the tip and sighed. The tip had finally worn enough for the blade to start slipping through. More of her stupidity in action, damaging her most precious possession.
  She had just set the sword aside, when there was a knock at the door. She thought of calling out, but decided to stand up for once and get the door herself. Mara plodded over and opened it just enough to peek out. The Queen met her gaze. Mara quickly opened the door all the way and curtsied slightly.
  "Lady Mara," said the Queen. She had come alone, which was not her custom.
  "Your Majesty," said Mara, in a flat tone. She was unable to manage more than that for the moment.
  "Will you walk with me?"
  "...Yes, your Majesty," said Mara, and took a step forward.
  The Queen held up her hand quickly. "It was a question," she said, "Not a command."
  Mara was uncertain if there was a difference, but finally she nodded. "I will still walk with you," she said. "Your Majesty."
  "Good," said the Queen. "I hope you like the garden."


  The two walked to the royal garden in silence, the Queen occasionally pausing to receive her subjects' greetings and salutations, but discouraging anyone from lingering for conversation. When they reached the entrance to the garden, word was sent within that the Queen wanted the place to herself and her companion. The Queen led the way to the center, where there was the ornately carved wooden and metal bench that Mara had seen on her first tour of the castle grounds. The Queen seated herself, then patted the spot beside her.
  "Please," she said. "Join me for a sit."
  Mara complied silently. She stared at a spot ahead of her while the Queen breathed in deeply, letting it out slowly with a loud sigh.
  "It is almost my favorite time of the year in here," she said. "Almost all of the flowers are in bloom. Almost all of the birds have returned. But the sights, sounds and smells even now are still beyond reproach, don't you think?"
  "Yes," said Mara, still using her flat tone. "I'm... glad that her Majesty is so pleased."
  The Queen chuckled softly, then was silent. Mara stayed as still as she could. Perhaps the Queen expected the wonders of the garden to relax and soothe her, too. Or was she supposed to be speaking? Or continue waiting to be spoken to first?
  "I had the same examination myself," said the Queen, "When I became betrothed to King Silas. Well, Prince Silas, then. But unlike you, I did not pass the test."
  Mara turned slightly towards her, but did not otherwise respond.
  "This was quite unfortunate," said the Queen, "Because, you see, I actually was a virgin. And yet the 'test' told the then-Royal Physician otherwise. Now, to this day I could not say for certain if it was a lie on his part, or if the test is simply inaccurate. All I know is that a great deal of money and land exchanged hands, and tongues were stilled, until our marriage was approved."
  This time Mara did try to respond, but found that she had no words.
  "You realize that the penalty for you would be death, if you repeat any of this," said the Queen. "Don't you?"
  "Wh--? Then why--?"
  "After Silas and I were married, I begged him and his father, the King, to rescind that abominable law for a 'purity test,' when it was clearly unreliable. But they wouldn't have it. I cannot help but wonder if he would have put... Flora... to that same test. But I did manage to convince them to remove that man that they called the Royal Physician. It wasn't enough that he was corrupt. He also took an unseemly pleasure in making his examinations... uncomfortable... for me. Say or think what you will about Sir William, child, but he is dedicated to his profession, and is concerned for our comfort as well as our health."
  "If you say so, your Majesty," said Mara. Another silence followed.
  "And you mustn't be angry with the Prince," she said. "He also tried to dissuade the King from ordering the test, but ultimately had to stand aside for the law."
  "Is this law something that the King can overturn?" said Mara. "Or remove? Or something?"
  "Yes," said the Queen. "But he believes in it. A woman entering her first marriage in the Royal Family must be untouched by other men. And this test is currently the only way to determine this."
  "But it is inaccurate."
  "Or I was simply the victim of a corrupt, lying dog," said the Queen. "The truth is long buried."
  "The man must be untouched by other women, too, correct?"
  "There is no such law about that. However, the Prince has elected to keep his own purity, for his lady's sake, whoever she might be."
  "He told me this," said Mara. "Yet you say this is not required of him."
  "No," said the Queen. "Lady Mara, I don't need to tell you that this is Men's world, and they are forever trying to keep it that way. We can make our inroads, but ours is a life of constant insults, indignities and humiliations. It is how we comport ourselves in the face of it that shows our character. And I must say, right now I am impressed by yours."
  "I am... pleased by that, your Majesty," said Mara. "But I don't feel very impressive at the moment. I can barely move or speak."
  "On the contrary," said the Queen. "You see, after my own 'examination,' I refused to eat, drink or speak to anyone for two days. The only reason it was two days, and not longer, is that my father had the words beaten from me. The food and drink forced into me."
  "Your father had you--?  But... you're a Queen..."
  "Back then, I was a Duchess," said the Queen. "And his reasoning behind it is that Silas and his father were due to visit at any moment, and I needed to snap out of my despair and behave properly. Behave like a future member of royalty. It was a hard lesson, but I learned it well."
  Mara was silenced by the memories of the "lessons" her father had "taught" her. Different reasons. Same technique.
  "Sir William tells us that you have many scars," said the Queen. "The Prince did not seem to know of them until then. Is there anything you wish to divulge? And, Lady Mara, as I must trust you with what I have divulged, so you can trust me."
  "I... It's nothing that I've shown him, your Majesty," she said. "But I've not hidden my past from him. He knows what my... profession... was before we met. I was a m-- a soldier."
  "Soldier?" said the Queen. "For Gildern? I thought you were a scullery maid."
  "A--? No, your Majesty," said Mara, hiding her irritation. "I worked at the inn because I had no other choice during peacetime but to find other work. But I was not a soldier for Gildern. I was.. a solider... for anyone who would pay. That kind of soldier. The Prince knows this."
  "I see," said the Queen.
  "Your Majesty," said Mara, "I know you said I could confide in you, and I am grateful for that, but I'd... understand if you told the King."
  "Lady Mara!" the Queen snapped, startling her. "You wound me. I have offered you confidence, and I shall keep it."
  "I-I-I'm sorry, your Majesty," said Mara. "I didn't mean to suggest that you would, I just-- i-if it's something that you had to tell the King-"
  "Lady Mara-"
  "-Though I hope that you would not, I only meant to-"
  "Lady Mara-"
  "Assure you that I-I would not place any blame on you, because your duty is to him, not-"
  "Mara!"
  She was startled into silence. She blinked quickly a few times, then shifted in her seat and straightened up, glancing at the Queen nervously all the while. The Queen sighed, smiled slightly, then patted her thigh.
  "Mara," she said softly. "The Prince told us these things already. But no doubt you wore clothing to conceal your old wounds, so he did not see them. You might wish to know that, in spite of this news, the Prince's resolve to marry you has not waned."
  "It hasn't?" she whispered.
  "No," said the Queen. "Once his mind is set on something, it is not changed. Just like his father."
  Mara pondered this a moment. Then: "Your Majesty," she said, "Would you mind if I took my leave of you now?"
  "Not at all, child," said the Queen.
  Mara stood, then turned to give a farewell curtsey. "I must thank you for this talk," she said. "It was very kind of you to grant me your attentions. And... I thought you should know that my resolve to marry him... has also not waned." She bowed her head once more and turned to leave.
  "Mara," said the Queen. She stopped, but did not turn all the way.
  "Your Majesty?"
  "Your hair is quite lovely. My compliments to whomever arranged it."
  "Thank you, your Majesty. I will tell Heather, if I see her again."

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

  Mara had learned the Prince's whereabouts from a passing servant. On the way to his chambers, she tried to think of various arguments and counter-arguments for the question she needed to ask him. No, not question: request. A demand? Not yet. She decided to leave it as a request and see where that got her. She did not have much experience at doing battle with words, and so wondered just how strong any of her arguments and counter-arguments would be, but had to start with something.
  She reached the Prince's chamber door, and knocked quietly. Well, that won't impress him, she thought, and began to knock harder, when the door was opened by a valet.
  "Yes?" he said. "What business do you have here, miss?"
  Mara cocked an eyebrow. She was almost starting to expect that "Lady" business by now. "I wish to speak with the Prince," she said, straightening up, her voice getting stronger as she continued. "Is he available?"
  "Provide me with your name, and-"
  "LET HER IN!" the Prince called from within. Before the valet could react further, Kelvin was already behind him, opening the door all the way. He shooed the valet aside and grabbed one of Mara's hands, all but yanking her inside. The valet recovered quickly, dusting off his sleeves and adjusting his clothing. The Prince dismissed him with a quick motion of the head. The valet bowed crisply and left the room, shutting the door behind himself.
  The Prince still had her hand in a tight grip and led her to the center of the room. Then he stopped and held onto her upper arms, squeezing them gently and rubbing them up and down. He wore a smile of unabashed joy that was hard for her not to match. But she had serious business with him and needed to practice restraint.
  "I'm so glad you came, Darling," he said. "I've been worried all day. Are you...? How do you feel?"
  Mara nodded slowly. "I'll be fine," she said. "I want to-"
  "I just want you to know, that I argued against that 'purity test,'" he said. "But Father was unmoved."
  "Yes, I know. The Queen told me."
  "Oh, you did speak with her? Good. Did she explain things to you?"
  "Yes. Yes, she explained quite a bit. Kelvin-"
  "I hope you can forgive me for what happened," he said. "Will you forgive me?"
  "There's...nothing to forgive," she said, to the Prince's relief. "But isn't it the King who needs my forgiveness? He's the one whose mind nobody could change."
  For once the Prince was dumbfounded. His smile dropped immediately.  Mara began to worry that she might have stepped on unwelcome political, or familial, ground. After all, she had reacted strongly to Kelvin's criticisms of her own father, no matter how true they were. But his features softened, and his smile crept back.
  "You're right about that," he said. "But bear in mind that he will never ask for it."
  "I thought as much," she said. "Kelvin, I'm not here to talk about that test. Er-- Actually, I am, but not just yet. Kelvin: I--" she straightened herself up again. "I want to learn how to read."
  She was unable to interpret the Prince's expression. He may have been surprised or taken aback, but she couldn't tell. Also, she realized that she was giving him too much time to argue against it, so she sorted through her various counter-arguments to back up her request: It would make her more useful to him as an adviser. Ruling people were supposed to be educated. Even the servants of the ruling people could read.
  "Because-"
  "Then it shall be done," he said. "Oh, I am sorry, did I interrupt you?"
  "What?"
  "You were speaking, and I interrupted. What were you saying?"
  "Um... nothing," she said. "What did you just say?"
  "That we'll find a teacher for you for reading," he said. "Oh, and writing, of course. You can't learn one without the other. When would you like to start? And is there anything else you wish to learn?" Mara could only stare in response.
  "Mara?"
  "Uh... I-I'm sorry," she said. "I'm just trying to figure out if you're... mocking me?"
  "Mocking you?" he said. "Why would you think that?" She shrugged. "Wasn't your request in earnest?"
  "Um... Yes. Yes, it was," she said. "I wish to learn how to read. I'm tired of being... being ignorant. I want to study the laws of this land. Its history. But especially the laws."
  "And its literature," he offered. "Stories, plays, poems, songs. Oh, music. Would you like to learn an instrument?"
  "I... I'm not sure."
  "What about singing?"
  Mara scoffed. "Especially not singing," she said. "I sound like... a goat being slaughtered. But wait: I came in here prepared to... to have to convince you about this, because I thought..."
  "You thought I would object?" he said. She nodded. "Mara. Darling. Have I given you any reason so far to make you think I wouldn't approve? I'm glad that you sought this on your own, before being told that you'd be receiving lessons."
  "Oh?"
  "A member of royalty without any education is a poor member of royalty," he said.
  "That was going to be one of my arguments!" she said. "Well... something like it.  Mostly about being useful because of being learned."
  "I'm glad that we're thinking alike, then."
  Mara sighed. "Ah, I'm so relieved," she said. "I'm not very good at debating. My arguments are usually fought with... well, actual fighting."
  "You could take combat lessons, as well," he said. "Not that the King and Queen would be pleased that a Princess was handling a sword, but-"
  "You know that I've spent most of my life in combat already," she said, failing to hide her indignation.
  "I'm only saying that the opportunity would be available to you," he said. "You learned what you learned from one man. There's no shame in learning from others.  Seamus is not just Captain of the Guard, he is an excellent teacher. Remember that he taught me. I haven't stopped learning; I'll still be practicing under him."
  "I'll... think about it," she said, and sighed again. "This has been a long day."
  "True," he said. "Speaking of which, I've been dying to do this all day, too." Kelvin pulled her into a long, deep kiss. As they embraced, Mara felt most of her stress and tension melt away, but not altogether. This was a good thing, for once.
  They parted, then closed their eyes and rested in their usual stance of forehead to forehead.
  "Kelvin?" she said, their stance unchanged.
  "Mm-hm?"
  "You will be King someday, yes?"
  "Mm-hm. But... since it will be upon the death or incapacitation of my father, not soon, I hope."
  "No, of course not soon," she said. "But someday, you'll be King. I want to ask: may a King make, or unmake, any law?"
  Now Kelvin broke their embrace, and straightened up, his eyes open. "Within reason," he said. "A King cannot make a law that the sun will no longer rise."
  "Of course I meant within reason," she said. "I have a reasonable request - no, a demand - that you unmake the law about the 'purity test.' Remove it. Rescind it. Whatever will keep others from going through it."
  "Now, Mara-"
  "I know that you think I ask this because of what happened today," she said. "That I'm still just upset and want it to go away. But I've had plenty of time today to think about this, and there is more to it than just... 'not liking it.' More to it than just the indignity and humiliation because of that law. If you truly need a woman to be a virgin before marriage, then so be it: demand it. But find some other way to ensure it. Make her swear on a Bible. Swear on the souls of her ancestors. Something. But not that test. No more."
  Again, the Prince's expression was indecipherable to her, but at least she could sense no anger. Finally, he cocked an eyebrow and nodded. "Didn't you just say moments ago that you're not good at debating?"
  "Well..." she said. "I've been giving this a lot of thought. And you yourself argued against it, so I'd think you'd be open to removing it."
  "I am," he said. "I just..." Then he seemed lost in thought. Mara did not like this, and stepped forward. She put a hand against his arm.
  "If we ever have a daughter," she said quietly, "Would you order her to endure that test?"
  "I..."
  "Kelvin."
  "No," he said. "No, I-- No! Why am I even hesitating about this? If I cannot convince my father to rescind it, then I will do it myself."
  She looked at him silently until he straightened up again and put his hands against her cheeks. "When I am King," he said, "Consider that law revoked."
  "Thank you," she said, and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. "And I will hold you to it."

The Pauper Prince - part 13

--Parental guidance suggested--

The Pauper Prince
Chapter 13

  Two days had passed since Mara had been shown Kelvin's, and possibly her, private chambers. The two most notable events during this time, other than the epiphany about her father, were that she had finally managed to give her positive review of  Heather to the Queen - who reacted anticlimactically to the report - and that the royal seamstresses had completed one of her dresses. Not from scratch, but by modifying an existing dress. Her other garments would take time and would be from scratch. The women brought the first gown directly to her guest room, but Mara resisted being undressed in front of them, women or not. Fortunately they had brought a folding screen.
  Mara put on the outfit herself behind the screen, and got the gist of it, but the women did need to step in and make a lot of final adjustments for her. Aside from being a perfect fit, the colors, according to the women, complemented her body's coloring and enhanced her already "regal" bearing. Mara just went along with their chattering and nodded at appropriate times. There was no full-length looking glass in the room, but she could get a sense of her appearance from the feel and cut of the dress. The main garment was satin, dyed emerald green and with gold trim at the ends of the hanging sleeves and woven around the neckline. Another wide belt of brown leather gave her a waist; she was not an especially curvy woman, and the seamstresses insisted that it would accentuate her figure. Mara continued nodding at appropriate times. After the women had declared their first delivery a success, she thanked them all sincerely for their work and skill, and returned the "loaner" dress from several days before. The women appreciated the gratitude, and before gathering their equipment and leaving, were once again aghast that she was still wearing her well-worn, leather boots. The truth of it was that it hadn't occurred to Mara to seek out lady shoes, and nobody other than those women seemed to have noticed yet.

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

  The seamstresses had managed to finish their business before breakfast, though Mara would have appreciated the extra time in bed. The morning meal was a private affair again. Her attendant this time was a nervous and awkward girl named Viola, who accidentally dropped one of the tea cups and was too flustered by it to speak coherently. Mara listened closely and tried to decipher her words, and gave up. At least she was able to make herself understood by the girl that no real harm had been done.  Viola stumbled on her dress while curtseying, and then left in a hurry. Mara actually appreciated the lack of perfection, even if the girl had not.
  Thirty minutes later a messenger, not Solomon this time, announced that her presence was requested by the King and Queen. Mara surmised that another interrogation was in order. In fact, she was brought to the same sparse, shadowy room where she had been before. The difference was that Kelvin was here, too. He stood beside his father, and given his solemn expression and odd reluctance to make eye contact with Mara, she realized that there was only one purpose for this meeting: they had made their decision about the marriage, and it was not in her favor. She braced herself for the terrible news.
  "Lady Mara," said the King, "This morning you will meet with the royal physician, for the purpose of determining your general health, as well as your purity."
  Or for that purpose, she thought, letting herself breathe again.
  "...Yes, Your Majesty," she said, looking to Kelvin for any silent explanations he could give. He had none. In fact, he still could not fully meet her gaze.
  "You will be thoroughly examined," said the King. "You will cooperate fully with the physician's instructions. This is required for his results to be accurate."
  "What is...?" she said. "May I ask what you mean by 'thoroughly'? Your Majesties?"
  "You may ask..." said the King, and allowed the slightest of smiles to peek through his serious countenance. Kelvin's face suddenly lit up.
  "Why, Mara, is that a new dress?" he said. "Did the seamstresses finish them for you? You look absolutely... It's stunning!  Please: let us see all sides!"
  She gave in to his gushing and grinned broadly. "Oh... Yes, they brought this this morning," she said, and started to turn around. "You mean, you like it?"
  "Son, do not change the subject," said the King. "We don't have all day for this."
  "I only wanted to acknowledge her new clothes, and... lighten the mood," said Kelvin. "Father, at least let us explain the purpose of the visit."
  "I have already done this," said the King. "Determining her good health and her purity."
  "I don't understand what you mean by my 'purity.'"
  The Queen spoke. "You must understand that it is required of you to be... pure and untouched, child."
  Mara's expression made it clear that she did not.
  "A virgin," said the King. "Untouched by man."
  "Oh!" said Mara, perking up. "Your Majesties, I can save you the trouble. I swear to you that no man has ever touched me. Except Ke-- the Prince, that is."
  There was a pause, and then as one, the King and Queen turned their gaze towards Kelvin and glared. A moment later he realized what had been said. He waved both hands frantically and shook his head.
  "Nononono!" he said. "Father- Mother- she meant a different thing than you're thinking!"
  "Oh, really?" said the King.
  "It's what I've been trying to explain to you all this time," said Kelvin. "For her, 'touching' means any sort of touching. We have embraced. We have kissed. Nothing more!"
  "Kelvin..." she said, looking away, embarassed.
  "We may take her word on this, sire," said Kelvin. "Believe m-"
  "The law is the law," said the King. "This is not up for debate."
  "You believe that I have broken the law?" asked Mara.
  "No, child," said the Queen. "Silas, please. Let us get this over with."
  "Agreed," said the King, and moved past Mara to open the door himself. "We will be accompanying you. Come."
  Kelvin passed her now, glancing her way with an unhappy expression. The Queen stood beside her.
  "Walk with us, child," she said.

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

  The royal physician's chambers consisted of a small waiting area in front, with a door leading to his study and examination room. He was in the front room to greet the royals and his new patient.
  "This is the Lady Mara," said the King. The doctor gave her a small head-bow. He was stout, bearded, dressed in an all-black robe and wearing a tall hat that may have had a practical purpose, but she could not determine it.
  "And this is Sir William of Gull, our royal physician," said the King. Mara decided to err on the side of protocol, and curtseyed to him. "Sir William, you understand which examinations are to be conducted?" asked the King.
  "Yes, Your Majesty," said the physician.
  "I don't," said Mara.
  Kelvin tried to speak, but was interrupted by the physician extending a hand to Mara. "Shall we begin, My Lady?" asked the physician.
  Mara glanced at the others worriedly, then nodded quickly, but did not take his hand. She followed him through the door.
  The physician's study/examination room was brighter than she expected. His large windows faced the east and were filled with the morning sun. There was another man with the physician - an assistant, perhaps - who glanced her way before returning to his preparations. He was placing various tools on a small table situated next to a larger table covered with a sheet. The physician went to his desk in the corner to review papers of some kind. The assistant finished with the tools and dragged a tri-fold screen closer to Mara.
  "You will need to remove your garments," said the assistant.
  Mara looked at him quizzically. "What's that now?"
  "Your garments," he said. "Step behind the screen and remove them."
  "Which garments do you mean?"
  "All of them."
  Mara looked wide-eyed at the assistant, then the physician. "No," she said. "Whatever it is you do for these 'thorough examinations,' I will be clothed for them." She heard the physician sigh.
  "My Lady, will you step this way, please?" said the physician. She turned to see him beckoning her over. She set her jaw and went to him.
  "Was the purpose of these examinations explained to you?" he asked.
  "Yes, sir," she said. "No, actually. 'General health and purity.' That was all."
  "Have you been examined by a physician before?"
  She scoffed. "Oh, all the time," she said. "That would be 'never.' "
  "I see," said the physician. "Well, you must understand that we must be able to view and examine one's entire body, absent of clothing, to check for abnormalities, blemishes, and anything that would indicate a lack of health. Especially... of Plague. One cannot be expected to find such things underneath layers of clothing, can one? These examinations are required by our laws, especially since the plague. Now remove your garments."
  He gestured towards the screen, but she was rooted in place and did not move.
  "My Lady, was it not explained to you that you must comply with my instructions?" said the physician.
  "...Yes, sir."
  "Then do so."
  With a last glance towards the door, as if pondering using it to escape, Mara slowly walked to the screen and stood behind it. She moved in slow motion, removing each piece of her clothing as if underwater, wincing as if in pain at their discarding. The last items were her boots, the right one still hiding her throwing dagger. She pulled it out and stared at it, then abruptly forced herself to put it away and drop the boot. Then she told herself to go to the examination room, but could not obey.
  "My Lady?" said the physician. "Are you ready?"
  "Uh..." she said, wrapping her arms around herself and squeezing her legs together tightly. "I think so."
  Before she could muster the fortitude and courage to tiptoe over, the tri-fold screen was suddenly collapsed together with a clackety-clack. She kept her head up, but bent her body forward to hide as much as possible.
  The assistant put away the screen while the physician gestured to the middle of the room, which had the most light. "You need to stand up straight and tall," he said, "And come this way. Come..."
  Mara stood up a little more, and walked over as best as one could with thighs pressed together. The physician reached out to move her into position, and she drew away.
  "Just tell me where to stand," she said, "And I will do that."
  "The more you cooperate, the sooner this will end," said the physician. "Now stand up straight, and hold your arms out, like this." He demonstrated a "T" position for her. She shook her head vigorously.
  "This is the last time I will ask," he said, "The King himself has ordered this. We are both beholden to the law. Stand up straight and hold out your arms!"
  Mara winced at an imaginary pain, and slowly forced herself to stand at full height and hold her arms out all the way.
  "Roger, take my notes," said Sir William. Roger the assistant brought over a pen, ink and parchment. "Patient is the Lady Mara." Roger wrote a bit on top and then waited for Sir William's instructions. "Your full name?"
  "Uh..." she said, trembling, "I have no other name." The trembling concerned him.
  "Are you cold, My Lady?" he said, beginning his examination at her fingers and working his way along her arm.
  "No," she said quickly.
  "Left fingers, hand, forearm," dictated the physician, "No obvious defects."
  That was not as comforting to Mara as Sir William might have thought. She took in a breath as he reached her upper arm and wrapped his hands around it, moving them forward, then back. He stopped and examined a few spots, "Hm"ing at each one. Mara looked over.
  "Eyes forward," said Sir William to her without looking up from whatever so fascinated him. She looked forward, but struggled against glancing over from time to time. Then Sir William left her side and went to Roger, where he took up the pen and ink and began writing his own notes. During this time she felt Roger's gaze on her, and again wrapped her arms tightly around herself. She was resolved now to bear this out, caring no longer what her health was, as long as it meant finishing and leaving more quickly.
  When Sir William resumed his rubbing and prodding, this time on her back, with more "hm's" than before, she stood still, unflinching even when his cool hands slid down her spine, but always kept on eye on the assistant. He pretended to pay more attention to Sir William's notes than to her.
  Sir William's examination moved on to her front, where he peered deeply into her eyes, felt along her ears, and checked her tongue and teeth. Flinching when he poked her armpits could not be helped, for this was an extremely ticklish spot, as were the sides of her ribs. But she grit her teeth and held her breath.
  Sir William then returned to his papers and wrote more items in silence, then nodded and gestured to Roger, who gathered the paper and ink and moved them from the table.
  Mara spoke quietly, tonelessly. "Am I finished?"
  "What was that?" said Sir William.
  "My clothes," she said. "May I be clothed again?"
  "I'm afraid not yet," he said. Roger was either putting equipment away or making more preparations; she could not tell. "There is one more examination to perform," said Sir William. "You will need to be lying down for this. Come." He gestured to a table of wood and metal that she could tell was going to be cold. There appeared to be leather straps in different places, which did not fill her with confidence. With another look towards the door and a moment to take a deep breath, she wrapped her arms around herself and went to the table.
  Sir William offered a hand to assist her, which she did not accept. She winced at the coldness of the table. Suddenly Roger was at the left side of the table, handling straps that were closest to her left arm. Sir William picked up the straps closest to her right arm.
  "Lady Mara, this examination requires that you be as still as possible," said Sir William. "We have found that restraints make this easier for us all."
  Mara sat up, folding her arms. "No more," she said. "What is this examination?? Why will no one explain things to me?? Restraints? Why? Is this something painful?"
  "Lady Mara, calm yourself-"
  "I ask only for an explanation!"
  "And you have had it!" said Sir William. "The first examination for your general health - especially any signs of plague - and this examination, to determine your purity."
  "I swear to you, Sir William," she said, "No man has ever touched me. Why will no one accept my word?"
  "It is the law that you be examined," he said. "I am not allowed to accept your word only. I shall not lie to my King."
  "Then tell me what you're going to do," she said, her eyes moistening. She fought to keep her voice strong and clear. "Please," she whispered.
  Sir William sighed. "Very well," he said. "We must confirm that your maidenhead is intact." He held up his hand. "As you can see, my fingers are thick and may cause discomfort. But my assistant's fingers-" Roger held up his hand - "are longer and more slender. Therefore, he will perform the examination."
  "I--" she said, glancing at Roger, whom she would swear was fighting against a smile, "I still don't know what you're going to do," she finished quietly.
  "He, uh--" said Sir William, "He needs to insert them into your womanly orifice, and confirm that your maidenhead is still there."
  "My...orifice?"
  "Where you bleed from periodically," he said. "You do bleed, do you not?"
  "...Yes," she said quietly, holding herself more tightly. "Sir William, please: I beg you not to do this. I swear on... on my mother's soul, I have not been with a man. Please tell them that."
  "That may be so," he said, his features softening, but only for the briefest of moments, "But the law is the law. It is not mine to break, nor yours. His Royal Highness the Prince - I'm told that it is your intention to marry him, is it not?"
  "Yes," she said. "He asked me, though. He asked me."
  "Take some small comfort in this, then: there would be no examination if they did not take your intention seriously."
  "...What?"
  "That His Majesty the King ordered this examination means that they are giving serious thought to your worthiness as the Prince's intended. And you do wish to be worthy of marrying him, do you not?"
  "Yes," she said quietly, then straightened up. "Yes, I do," she added with more strength.
  "Then lie back down," said Sir William, "And let us finish this examination."
  Mara took a few seconds to debate with herself, but it was a full, raging debate. Endure the humiliation here and now, or forfeit her (possible) marriage to Kelvin. Killing Sir William and Roger and escaping also flashed into her mind, but she had reached the point now in her life where she could (more) easily dismiss such a temptation. The final result was that she did not actually come to a decision, but simply let her mind shut down.
  She laid back down slowly and stared up at the ceiling while Sir William and Roger went about their business of fastening the straps. Her arms were held down at the wrists. There was also a strap for her waist, and ultimately, her feet were placed in stirrups but then held in place with more straps around the ankles. Then suddenly Roger grabbed a rope and pulled, lifting her legs high and spreading them. Mara winced and closed her eyes, then let them slowly open again. Keeping her gaze on the ceiling helped her to tolerate what was to come.
  Sir William stood beside her while directing Roger through his preparations. She heard water splashing and assumed that he was washing up. At least there was that preparation. If only he had clipped or filed down the fingernails she had noticed earlier. Perhaps that was part of his preparation.
  An uncomfortably long silence preceded the sudden cold that touched her "womanly orifice." Mara grunted and flinched, which caused its own pain on her feet because of the restraints. Sir William placed what he thought was a comforting, calming hand on her belly, but only glanced her way before continuing to watch Roger. Roger hesitated.
  "Sir William?" he said.
  "Cold...." said Mara through gritted teeth.
  "From the washing, My Lady," said Sir William. You'll get used to it. Continue, Roger."
  Roger continued. Roughly. Clumsily. Mara's legs tried to slam together on reflex and were again chafed against the leather. None of the restraints were tight, exactly, but were firm enough to hurt if fought against. Sir William was speaking to her all the while, using possibly calming tones, but she heard none of his words and was not going to be calm, either way. As still as possible, yes, for the sole purpose of this "test" being completed as soon as possible. But never calm.
  Roger's fingers were not far into her womanly orifice and were being moved in a slow circular motion. She did not know what this "maidenhead" thing was supposed to be, but if he did not find it soon, she would find a way to escape the restraints and find it herself.
  Sir William had by now moved his hand to rest on her shoulder, his gaze still on Roger, leaving Mara free to ponder the possibility of biting the doctor's arm, when Roger suddenly withdrew his fingers and nodded. Sir William nodded back.
  "Thank you, Roger," he said, taking hold of one of her arm restraints. "Please wash again and then help me undo the straps." Roger bowed his head slightly and began turning around. Mara caught a glimpse of him smelling his fingers before turning away completely. Meanwhile, Sir William was releasing her left arm from its restraint.
  "The examination is complete, My Lady," he said calmly. As soon as her hand was free, she attempted to undo the other strap herself. "No need for that," he said. "We'll take care of that."
  "I'm in a hurry, if you don't mind," she said. "And why were you nodding? Is that good or bad?"
  "Good," he said, gently pulling her arm back so he could work on the middle strap. Roger returned and fiddled with the rope that had been used to pull up her legs. But whether from the slipperiness of the water, his own clumsiness, or something else, the rope slid from his hands, and her legs dropped to the table with a loud and painful thump.
  "Roger!" said Sir William. Roger bent over in shame and contriteness, calling out apologies to his master while grabbing at Mara's legs, but for what purpose, she neither knew nor cared. She kicked at one of his hands, earning the doctor's stern attention on her this time.
  "Lady Mara!" he said. "He did not mean to let go! He's trying to help!"
  She stopped kicking and glared at the doctor. "Thank you for your concern, Sir William," she said. "My legs should be fine." She crossed her arms tightly around herself and sat up. "Now may I be dressed again?"
  Sir William glared back, then sighed and turned away. "Yes, My Lady," he said. "Your examinations are over."
  Mara pushed past Roger and set up the tri-folding screens herself. As she threw her clothing on as quickly as possible, Sir William smoothed out his own garments and accoutrements before exiting the room.
  The Royal Family was still waiting in the foyer, none with such anxiety as the Prince appeared to possess. Two handmaidens had joined the Family since the Lady Mara had been brought to him. Sir William made his bows to the Family.
  "What news?" said the King.
  "Your Majesties. Your Highness. My full report is forthcoming, but I know that your main concern is towards her general health and her purity," said Sir William. The King nodded. "In both cases, she has passed her examinations. She shows no signs of Plague or other obvious illnesses, and does appear to be untouched by man."
  The Prince audibly sighed in relief and tried to share a smile with his parents, but it was not shared.
  "However," Sir William continued, "There is a matter that should be brought to your attentions. While I found no signs of illness on her person, she does have a great deal many... blemishes."
  "Sorry?" said the Prince.
  "Scars, to be precise," said Sir William. "Your Majesties, I know not what sort of life she led before, but she appears to have been the recipient of many wounds. Mostly on her torso and upper arms, and some on her legs. If she were a soldier, I would say that most of the scars were from swords and daggers in battle, but that cannot have been the case for her?"
  "Um..." said the Prince, glancing about.
  "And there were at least two scars that appeared to have been the result of burns," Sir William continued, "On her back, specifically. Your Majesties - Your Highness - if she is indeed being considered as a bride, I bring these to your attention in case it will affect your... decision."
  "It might," said the King. "Is she dressed yet? I'll see-"
  "No," said the Prince. The King looked at him quizzically. "Thank you, Sir William, for bringing that to our attention. Our decision is not affected."
  "You've seen these scars?" said the King.
  "No, father. She always wore enough clothing to cover them. I'll see them on our wedding night, though."
  "Kelvin-"
  Behind them the door opened again, and the Lady Mara emerged from the examination room, her clothing put on about as well as could be done unaided, her posture straight, but not regal. The Queen, nearest the door, stepped aside slightly to allow her to enter. Her stance and demeanor reminded the Prince of a wounded animal still trying to present itself as a threat.
  "Mara?" he said softly, instinctively reaching out, but the Queen stopped his reach halfway. She shook her head slightly. The Prince opened his mouth as if to argue, then relaxed and pulled back. Mara glanced his way, then returned to looking at nothing. The Queen stepped forward and put a gentle arm around her, leading her through the men, who parted for them in silence, and over to the two handmaidens. Mara recognized one of them.
  "Lady Mara," said the Queen, "I've taken the liberty of summoning these two handmaidens to bring you back to your room, and to attend to any of your needs."
  "Thank you, your Majesty," she whispered.
  The Queen gestured towards one of the girls, a redhead. "You're acquainted with this one, yes?" she said. "You did speak highly of her."
  "Yes, your Majesty," said Mara, not noticing Heather trying to stifle a big grin of pride. The Queen let go of Mara and nodded to the girls, who parted to let her pass, then followed her in silence, patiently matching her slow pace.
  Back in the foyer, the Prince was mildly indignant. "Mother," he said, "You know that I meant to comfort her."
  "I know, son," she said. "But this is something I know much about, and understand. She's going to need time alone. You must trust me."
  Kelvin folded his arms and sulked. "Very well."

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

  Heather and the other handmaiden, Fiona, followed the Lady Mara to her room. Mara went straight to her effects and rummaged a bit, producing her sword and scabbard. Fiona gasped and took a step back, but Heather stood her ground and stifled a smile. With a sigh Mara slumped into the dressing table's chair, facing the girls and the rest of the room . She kept the sword sheathed and let the tip rest on the ground, spinning the sword idly by the grip. Heather stifled a cough and stepped forward.
  "M'Lady?" she said. "Is there anything you would have us do? We are at your service."
  Fiona seemed to take direction from Heather, and straightened herself up, but kept a wary eye on the Lady's sword. Mara stopped spinning the sword and looked up, but not at the girls.
  "I..." she said/sighed. "I can't think of anything right now. I'm sorry."
  "There's no need for apologies, m'Lady," said Heather gently. "We know this has been a trying day. If you wish us to take our leave, we shall."
  "Oh, it's... I don't 'wish' for you to leave," said Mara. "I just... need time alone. But thank you for walking with me."
  "Of course, m'Lady," said Heather, bowing her head quickly. Fiona followed suit. The girls turned to leave and got most of the way to the door. Fiona was reaching for the door when Mara spoke again.
  "Wait," she said quietly. The girls stopped and listened. "Sorry. Just Heather? Is that all right?"
  "Of course, m'Lady," she said quietly. She and Fiona exchanged nods, and Fiona left the room and shut the door quietly behind herself. "What do you need, m'Lady?"
  "For you to call me Mara," she said. "Also..." Her voice trailed off. She resumed spinning the sword idly and looking at nothing. Heather stepped forward, craning to hear in case Mara was whispering. "Ahhh," she said quietly, but not whispering, "I don't really want to ask, because... I don't want you to think I'm... ordering or... that sort of thing... Ahhh..."
  Heather opened her mouth to respond, then thought better of it and waited for Mara to work through her words on her own. Mara kept her head down and tightened her lips several times, then forced herself to look up and finally meet Heather's gaze.
  "I think, um..." she said, "I think it would be nice... after all... to... have some company. If it's no trouble to you."
  "None at all," said Heather. "Mara." She found another chair and set it down beside Mara, but not too close. She sat down and lightly let her hands rest on her lap. Mara stopped spinning the sword, but kept her hand on the grip, and looked Heather's way.
  "Thank you," she whispered. Heather only smiled in response.
  The two sat like this for several minutes, in silence, the only sounds in the room coming from their breathing and the spinning of the sword.
  "Mara?" said Heather.
  "Hm?"
  "Would you like if I... braided your hair? Or brushed it? Or...? I find it quite relaxing - even soothing - myself."
  "I don't want to be any trouble."
  "Nonsense! Er- that is - I would be happy to. It's something that I enjoy doing."
  "If it will relax and soothe you, then fine. As you wish."
  "I meant it to be relaxing for you, my L--- Mara."
  "I know what you meant," said Mara. She straightened up a little, then gathered her hair behind her. Heather made a quick giggle and then searched for a brush. Fortunately the dressing table was properly equipped, and soon enough she was brushing and weaving the honey-blond strands into an elaborate tapestry. For her part Mara was apathetic, but it did give her something else to think about than the events of the day.

The Pauper Prince - part 12

A caveat: certain kinds of education are a lot better today than in this mythical, "Middle Ages" setting.

The Pauper Prince
Chapter 12

  The midday meal was also brought to her room, this time by a male attendant whose name she did not hear before he left. Like Siobhan, he was efficient, mannered, and quiet. She wanted to decline his offer to pour tea, but knew better than to turn away any sort of food or drink, other than purely rotten bits. This meal was anything but rotten, of course, and after the attendant left, she dove in, but gave the tea plenty of time to cool itself.
  The solitude did not bother Mara like it had during her breakfast. The happy memories of the castle tour notwithstanding, the quiet afforded her the opportunity to reflect on the morning's talk with the King and Queen. There had to be some use for a Princess other than "producing heirs to the throne." What about doing everything the Prince did for the kingdom? If she actually knew what the Prince did, that is. She needed to ask him about that. And needed to find the courage to tell him about her curse, before he learned of it the hard way.
  A vigorous knock at the door roused her from her thoughts. She also realized that she had stopped eating while pondering her situation. She made it to the door just as another round of knocking began.
  The Prince flashed his heart-melting smile and waited for her response. When she only smiled back, he leaned through the doorway and whispered, "Another fifteen minutes."
  "What?"
  "We have fifteen minutes again," he said, "And I want to show you something."
  She wasted no time following him through the hallway and to the second floor. He spoke as they walked.
  "Did Solomon find you? Did you get a tour of the grounds?"
  "Yes," she said. "Yes!  Thank you. Thank you so very much. It's just what I needed. It feels like I've been inside for a week, though I know that isn't true."
  "Same here," he said. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. He's a fine storyteller, isn't he?" She nodded. "And please accept my apologies that you've been eating alone today. My father has wasted no time throwing me back into the day-to-day workings of the kingdom. It's all been business, business at each meal."
  "Oh, I take no offense at all," she said. "It's been... helpful. It's given me a chance to think about things."
  "You'll join us for dinner, I promise," he said. She only replied with a smile. Soon enough they reached a door that she recognized.
  "Oh, I remember here from the tour," she said. "Solomon said that you and your parents are in this wing, but I can't enter any of the rooms."
  "Can't you?" Kelvin said, opened the door to his chambers, and gestured for her to enter first. She blushed before stepping inside, and gasped. The room was twice the size of her guest room, with a larger bed, larger dressers, wardrobes, fireplace, looking glass-- larger everything. He also had a shallow balcony with two thick doors leading out to it. Each corner of the room had stone pillars covered with carvings resembling ivy and vines. Other than the ubiquitous stone, given this was a castle, the walls and ceilings were accented with oak stained to a rich reddish-brown that gave Mara a subtly warm feeling.
  Kelvin indicated the whole of the room to her. "What do you think?" he asked.
  "I think... I think you must be very comfortable here," she said. He smiled and took her hand to guide her to another door in a far corner. It led to a second room which appeared to be a mirror image in terms of size and location of fixtures, but was not a bedroom. It appeared to be a library or study of sorts. Large shelves along two walls contained books, scrolls, stacked papers, and all sorts of odd knick knocks and collectible items. There were more wardrobes and dressers, too, so perhaps he used it for extra storage. One person with two whole rooms.
  "This used to be Robert's bedroom," he said. "We were given the opportunity to have our own chambers, but we decided to have these adjoining rooms instead. When he died, I-- repurposed it a little, but kept many of his keepsakes. Mementos. Other things." He led her to a large, painted portrait over the fireplace, which was surrounded by sitting furniture. The portrait was of two young men, and a young woman seated between them. The young men stood behind her with somewhat regal poses and expressions, but each with a gentle hand on her shoulder. The young woman sat straight in her chair, but had a relaxed look to her face, and the slightest of smiles. The young man on the portrait's right looked familiar.
  "It's the three of you," she said quietly.
  "Yes," he said. "We sat for it a year before the plague struck." He tugged slightly on her hand and gestured to this room's door. "Come. I have something else to show you."
  "The likeness to you is very good," she said, still looking at the picture. "Is it the same for them?"
  Kelvin stared at the painting a few moments. "Yes," he whispered, and gestured again for her to follow. She did so now, and he led her back into the hallway, to a room right next to the study. He opened it and let her enter ahead of him.
  The room was the same size and layout of Kelvin's bedroom, including a similar balcony, but with the stone walls somehow white-washed, and the oak lacing the walls and ceilings painted yellow. The carefully-preserved furniture had also been painted light colors that either matched or complemented each other. The furniture, curtains, the decor, the bedding, the paintings - everything spoke instantly of a young woman's room.
  "Flora," whispered Mara.
  "Yes," said Kelvin, stepping up beside her. "Flora's room. Do you like it?"
  "It's lovely," said Mara. "I-I mean I'm not just saying that to be kind. It's very light, and there's a cheerfulness here."
  "Shall we see her parlor?"
  The adjoining room, also painted in light colors, was a parlor, a sitting room, a study, a receiving room. A small, round table near four large windows still had a tea set on it as if ready to serve guests. There was no dust, dirt or grime to be seen, so somebody had been tending to it all these years.
  "Do you like it?" said Kelvin.
  "You've asked me again," said Mara. "Why does it matter?"
  "Because," said Kelvin, "I shouldn't make promises this early, but this could be your room."
  "My--? Oh, I couldn't," she said. "This is her room. You should keep it as is, yes?"
  "Was her room," said Kelvin. "And like you, Flora was sweet and kind, but practical. She wouldn't want the room to never be used again. That would be a waste."
  "What about your parents? Won't they object?"
  Kelvin gave his answer some thought. "Possibly," he said. "But they, too, are practical people. After all, Robert's room wasn't left as a museum. I made it my own, but preserve his memory nonetheless."
  "I don't know," she said quietly. "And this is so large. What would I do with two rooms?"
  "Think about it," he said, and leaned over to kiss her gently. He withdrew, then placed his hand on her cheek. Now she lunged forward into a deep kiss that lasted over a minute. When they parted, she rested her head on his shoulder, and he did the same to hers.
  "You spoke with my parents this morning," he whispered.
  "Yes."
  "I hope that it was a pleasant talk."
  She did not answer right away, but closed her eyes and breathed deeply several times, then straightened up so they could see eye to eye. She opened her mouth several times to speak, then took several more deep breaths for courage.
  "Kelvin," she said, "If we're married... do you expect me to bear children?"
  "Of course," he said with no delay.
  "Of course," she whispered, and looked down briefly. "It really was-- ssstupid of me to think otherwise. But is it because-- you want them, or because it's just-- what people do?"
  "First, you're not stupid," he said. "Second, yes, I do want them. I always have. And not just to continue the royal line. And yes, it is 'what people do.' I said that before, remember? Marriage, and then children follow."
  "Yes, yes, you did say that," she said. "I remember."
  "Mara, what's wrong?" he said. "You seem troubled by this."
  She forced a laugh. "That's what your par- the King and Queen said," she said. "They wondered if I'm troubled by it."
  "Are you?"
  Mara forced another smile, which broke down quickly. She looked down to focus on gathering her courage.
  "Please tell me," said Kelvin. The pleading in his voice gave her the fortitude to be out with it.
  "I have..." she said, her voice wavering, "I have reason to believe, that I would not survive... bearing a child."
  "You... speak of the dangers of childbirth?" said Kelvin. "Darling, I know it would be a lie to claim there is no risk, but you're young. Strong. Healthy. You've survived so many hardships, surely you'd-"
  "I don't mean that," she said. "Please forgive me, Kelvin. I should have said this before, but I lacked the courage. In fact, I'll understand if you want no more of me after learning this."
  "Enough," he said, a little impatiently. "Be plain with me. What- is- the matter?"
  "I have been cursed!" she spat out. "I-- was cursed to die, if I ever bore a child."
  "...What?" said Kelvin. "Why? Who-- By whom? Who would do such a thing?"
  "My mother," she said. "And I don't blame her. She-"
  "Your mother? How could-??"
  "Please let me tell this," she said, and he calmed himself. "I didn't before, and I should have. When you asked about her, I stopped you and said never to ask again. But I should have told you. I should have--" She took another breath. "I killed my own mother, Kelvin. She-- died because of me."
  "...Words fail me," he said, taking a step back. "What did-? How-?"
  "I came out the wrong way," she said. Kelvin tilted his head. "I wouldn't come out because I was turned around the wrong way - legs first, I think - and couldn't come out. And then... my father... he finally had to cut her."
  "Oh, no..."
  "I wouldn't come out unless I was cut out," she said, her lips trembling. "So-- he did and-- then as she lay dying, bleeding to death from a wound that I had caused, she cursed me to die the same way. To die if I ever bore a child. I-- I suppose it would also come out the wrong way, too. I don't know."
  "May I...?" said Kelvin, holding up a hand, "May I ask something? Just for a moment?"
  "Yes."
  "Am I to understand," he said, "That when you say you 'killed' your mother, you mean that she died in childbirth? And he- your father - blamed you for it?"
  "What else do you think I meant?"
  "I know, I know," he said. "I just wanted to make certain of that."
  "What difference does it make?" she said. "The very first thing I did in this world, I did wrong. Dead wrong. And every year, on my birthday - her deathday - Father would send me away so he could be alone, but was sure to remind me of what I'd done."
  "I don't believe this," said Kelvin, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. This only irritated her.
  "Wh-? Don't believe-? Do you think I've lied about this?"
  "Not you," he said, then opened his eyes and reached out to hold her by the arms. "NoNoNoNo, not you. Of course I believe you. You lost your mother in a most tragic way; there is nothing to doubt about that. But your father: he lied to you."
  "What??" she bellowed, pulling away from him. "You be careful, sir!"
  "Listen to me," he said. "Please listen to me. I must beg your forgiveness. Out of respect, I have been silent when you tell me these stories of him, but I can be silent no longer. I-- I cannot. Forgive me, but your father-- If your father were here, before me now, I would need to be dragged from the room, lest harm come to him!"
  She gasped. "You call him a liar, and now say that, too?!"
  "Hear me!" he said, "Hear me. This is because of your own words, Mara. All I know of him, I learned from you. And from you, I have learned that your father was an angry, hateful, cruel and... and a brute of a man who twisted the final memory of your mother and his own wife, a-and raised you to believe yourself a murderer! And that you were stupid, and ugly, and-- worthless! And I will tolerate no more of it!"
  "How dare you say such things about him!! Would I say such things about your father? Never!"
  "I understand that I speak out of bounds - I don't blame you for your anger - He was your father and you feel obliged to honor him-"
  "He alone raised me!" she spat. "By himself! No one else!  H-he was all I had! How could I not honor him?"
  "Why did he not honor you??" said Kelvin. She only glared. "Hm? I want to be wrong about him. Please, Mara. Tell me of any moment of kindness from him. Any tenderness. Telling you stories at night. Comforting you when you were afraid, or sad, or 'just because.' Did he ever smile at you? Praise you? Hold you?"
   She was too overwhelmed with a paralyzing mix of anger, confusion and sadness to speak.
  "Mara?" said Kelvin. "Was there any love from him at all?"
  "Why would there be??" she snapped. "Did you not hear anything I said? I- Killed- My- Mother! The woman he-he loved. And my first act being born was to kill her! And you think he lied to me about the curse? I have proof of it! Not long ago, five, six years ago, I began bleeding. There was no wound at all, and yet I bled. And he told me... He told me it was a sign that the curse was starting. He didn't need to remind me every year anymore, for she herself was doing that. And it hasn't stopped. Every month - every time of the waxing moon, in fact - I bleed. Again, from no wound. Not enough to die and it stops in days, but enough to remind me: she's watching me. Waiting."
  Kevin's mouth was open, but he appeared unable to speak.
  "So," she said, trembling, "Yes. There it is. You say he lied to me, and there it is. Someday this curse will catch up to me. So I ask you again: do you really, really want me to bear children?"
  "Yes."
  "Kelvin!"
  "He actually told you... that your monthly bleeding is a curse from your mother?"
  "A reminder of it," she corrected.
  "You had no sisters," he said. "No cousins, aunts, nieces, grandmother... no female relatives or friends? No one to talk to about these things?"
  "No," she grumbled. "You know that already."
  "I must ask your forgiveness again, Mara," he said with an odd calmness. "I cannot withdraw my words. Your father... was a monster."
  Mara tensed every muscle in her body, and glared with an intensity that only pure rage could manage.
  "Your bleeding," he said, still calm. "Forgive the indelicacy of this question, but is it from there?" He pointed down. Mara looked down, then up, and could tell by the angle of his finger where he meant. She squeezed her legs tight.
  "Yes," she growled. "How did you guess that?"
  "I just wanted to make sure," he said. "Mara - My Love - what you described is common for women. It's not a reminder of a curse; it's a natural act for women."
  "How would you know?"
  He held up a hand. "I know, I am a man, so I understand you'll think I know nothing at all about women, but I have been taught and tutored all my life. Many subjects, including Medicine. It happens to all- well, most- women at certain ages. You're in that age."
  "That can't be," she said, shaking her head. "That's ridiculous. There can't be-- Every woman isn't under a curse like mine."
  "It is not a curse," he said. "It is natural. That's why I said what I said about your father. Perhaps he himself was ignorant of that, but I doubt it. He had to at least know it from his wife - your mother - but then to convince you that this-- natural thing is something to be feared? Something that heralds your doom? And no, I was not there, nor did I know your mother, but I still cannot believe that she died with a curse on her lips. It is always a great sadness and a tragedy when a woman dies in childbirth, but do you truly believe that every woman who died so, cursed her own child? That they all blamed an innocent babe of matricide, and not a tragic accident of birth?  Accident, Mara. Without intention. Without malice. An accident. A mother knows this. She knows. Yours had to, too. You just have to trust me."
  "But..." she whispered, "But why would he tell me that if it wasn't true? Why would he...?" Her voice trailed off.
  "I don't know," he said. "I don't know why he directed all of his rage and his hatred at you, but he did."
  "I spent my whole life hoping she'd forgive me," said Mara, her lips trembling. "And when I started to think that-- perhaps she had, but then the bleeding started-- Why does that happen? How could bleeding for days be 'natural?' You say all women do this? Why?"
  Kelvin threw up his hands. "You must ask someone more knowledgeable than I," he said. "The royal physician, perhaps."
  "Should I ask the Queen?"
  "No!" he cried, startling her. "Sorry. That is not a question for her, is all."
  "Oh."
  "I know!" he said. "You should speak with a midwife. Yes, a midwife could answer probably any question you had about women. Perhaps even why 'it' happens."
  "And curses?"
  "No," he said. "Ask about women's medicine." He held out his arms to her. "Mara: please come here."
  She tilted her head and took a step forward. He leaned over enough to take both of her hands, and squeezed them gently. "Hear me," he said. "You are not worthless. You are not stupid. You are not ugly. And you absolutely did not 'kill' your mother. If she were here, now, I think she would be proud of you. I am proud of you. You are the most-"
  Mara had been listening to him with a jumble of chaotic emotions, yet had been still and betrayed none of her feelings, until his last words. Then to both of their surprise she burst into loud tears, and after a moment, fell forward and buried her face on his shoulder. He was taken aback, but recovered quickly and held her, making no effort to stop the weeping.
  "You were right," she bawled.
  "Shhhhh," he said. "You don't need to speak."
  "No, you were right," she said, fighting to get the words out. "Everything you said about him. You're right. I had those same thoughts for years. No, all my life! But I pushed them down, always. I was ashamed of those thoughts. He was my father; I had to honor him! He had raised me! Yet he hated me-- so much-- and I wanted-- I tried so hard, all the time, for him to just-- I wanted him to be proud of me, just once, and he never was. He never was!" Her words dissolved into a sea of tears. Kelvin said nothing, but kissed her once on the nape of her neck, then rested his chin on her shoulder.
  There was a rapid knocking at the door. Mara fought to quiet her tears, but Kelvin parted and gestured for her to stay. He went to the door and opened it only a crack. It was Solomon, looking frantic but contrite.
  "Please pardon me, Your Highness," he said, "But the King has requested your presence. Immediately."
  "Thank you," said Kelvin. "I will be out in a moment." He started to shut the door, but Solomon pushed on it.
  "He was rather insistent on this, Your Highness," he said. "Something about a time limit?"
  "I will bear his wrath, Solomon," said Kelvin. "I will join you in just a moment."
  He shut the door and hurried back to Mara, who had managed to push down her tears for now.
  "I heard him," she said, wiping her nose. "You should go. I've made us go over our time."
  "It's a cruelly small amount of time," he said.
  "But better than none?"
  "I will not leave you until I'm assured that you're all right," he said. "Perhaps not all right, but can you manage? Just say the word and-"
  "Go," she said. "'Go' is my word. These have been... good tears, I think. The only good tears I've had. I have much to think about, but-- No, go. Please. I'll be fine."
  "I'll see you tonight?"
  "Yes. Go."
  Kelvin hesitated, then snatched up one of her hands, kissed it, let go, then fixed his hair and his clothes as he made his way from the room. He looked back one last time before shutting the door. Mara closed her eyes and let out one long, loud sigh, then practiced relaxing herself with slow, deep breaths. In time she felt a calmness that she had no memory of ever feeling before. Almost, but not quite, a true peace. Then a sudden coolness surrounded her body; the hairs on her arms stood up, and she felt something like, but could not be, a person's embrace. Her eyes still closed and her breathing still slow and deep, Mara held out her arms just slightly as if returning the embrace, but held only cool air.
  She opened her eyes, but saw nothing. The coolness went away. There was an eerie silence and stillness to the room.
  "Flora?" whispered Mara, but there was no answer. Of course there was no answer.  Without another word, and as quietly as possible, Mara left the room and returned to her own on the third floor.

The Pauper Prince - part 11

The Pauper Prince
Chapter 11

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

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

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

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

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

The Pauper Prince - part 10

The Pauper Prince
Chapter 10


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

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

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