Princess

by Nicolette Andrews

  “But she was unwell because of me,” I insisted. Why won’t anyone admit it? They all walk on eggshells around me. I’m not blind; I hear what people say about me. I know they all think I’m some kind of monster, because I am the product of rape.

  Idella flinched as if my words were meant to accuse her. It was a rare show of emotions. Idella was a master of appearance—few saw beneath her perfectly sculpted mask.

  “That is not your fault,” she said. She reached out to touch me or comfort me. I backed away from her.

  “Edalene.” The motherly affection was gone, replaced with the scolding tone I was more accustomed to.

  I didn’t want to argue any more. I marched away. I was fed up with the fake smiles and pretend grieving. No one knew my mother, not a single one. She never had visitors, only her caretakers. She had remained locked up in her room for my entire life. Her life had shrunk down to a room and her patch of garden. She was trapped inside a cage smaller than my own. It was perhaps the first time I had felt sorry for her.

  The rumors surrounding my mother’s death buzzed about the palace for weeks afterward. I went through the motions of court life, putting on a brave face, pretending the rumors didn’t affect me. I refused to cry. I wore my bastardy like a badge, to protect myself from the scorn of the courtiers. My mother had never loved me anyway; why waste my tears on her? Celia withdrew during that time. She had hardly raised her eyes to look me in the face for weeks. I think she felt guilty about my mother, or maybe because I refused to grieve, she was doing it for me. After a while some new scandal grabbed a hold of the court’s attention and I faded back into the scenery, which is where I liked to remain.

  A month after my mother died, I was given leave to go into half-mourning. I wore a black armband instead of the full black. It was during this same time that King Layton called me to the audience chamber. Celia fussed over my hair. She insisted I wear a hood and that I wear a blue gown, which she said would bring out the blue of my eyes. I hated the attention, but I let her do it. She had been too quiet lately. I thought I would enjoy the quiet, but without her constant chatter my rooms seemed bleak. I was glad life was back to normal. Life marches on.

  Celia and I were brought into the audience chamber, where King Layton waited with his council arranged around him. It was a private audience, which was a relief. Sometimes when an important announcement was made, they let the courtiers witness. I knew why he had called me. I had hoped the rumors surrounding my mother’s death would be enough, but apparently I would need to take more drastic measures. I knew he had waited through the grieving period to tell me, probably in some misguided attempt at sparing my feelings, or they were afraid I would make a scene, which I planned to do.

  King Layton wore a light blue doublet with yellow flowers sewn into the checkered pattern. It was the colors of his house, Florett, the new ruling house.

  I bowed down before him and the council. I’ll wait until they make the announcement before I denounce it. That will show them for trying to control my life.

  “Princess Edalene, thank you for coming. I am sure you have some idea of why we have called you here.” He smiled.

  “I have a good idea,” I replied. I glared up at him and then to Duchess Diranel, who sat next to him and was watching me, her violet eyes intent.

  Layton fought to keep a straight face. It was hard not to like Layton. I had to remind myself that he and Duchess Diranel both had a hand in my brother’s death. The official decree was that a Biski woman had killed him, but I didn’t believe it. Duchess Diranel had tricked him. My brother loved her, but she betrayed him and helped Layton take the throne. They are not your friends; all of them are working to use you, I told myself.

  I didn’t smile back but crossed my arms over my chest. Celia gasped behind me. “Edalene, show the king respect.” She sounded like Aunt Idella when she scolded me. I ignored her. I would not go quietly; they would witness my displeasure. “At least stand like a lady,” she pleaded.

  I met Duchess Diranel’s gaze, and I felt like she was looking through me, as if she could sift through my very thoughts. I wonder if she used her powers to pick a husband for me, or did they just pick whoever is going to benefit them best.

  “As you know, your marriage is something of a delicate matter. As it stands, you are my closest female relative, which means your sons stand to inherit the throne. We’ve had much discussion on the matter and—”

  “Just tell me who it is already,” I blurted. I could not stand the pomp and circumstance of the entire proceeding. Just tell me who it is so I can figure out how to get out of it.

  Duke Quince muttered under his breath, and Duke Nanore cleared his throat. A few others looked amused, including Duke Slatone, who was doing a poor job of hiding his smile.

  “Edalene, we’ve agreed to a marriage contract with Mathias of the Stone Clan.”

  “What?” I shouted without thinking. Behind me, Celia squeaked. I had not given much thought to who they would choose, but I never in my wildest dreams would have thought it would be one of the Biski.

  Duke Wodell chuckled, and I looked in his direction. How can he find this amusing? They’ve decided to marry me to some savage? The Biski were not like Danhadines. They lived in roaming bands and had numerous wives.

  “As you know, Aland of the Stone Clan has taken over rule of a southern portion of the Nanore province. His people have settled there and are prospering. His oldest son, Mathias, will inherit his father’s rule. It is a fortuitous match.”

  “The Biski have multiple wives. Do you expect me to be one of this man’s five wives?”

  Duchess Diranel laughed.

  I scowled at her. I did nothing to hide my displeasure. This was worse than I could have imagined.

  “Not all of them have numerous wives. Some clan elders do, but it is not expected of them. As part of our new treaty, he has generously agreed to take no other wives.”

  Generously agreed, what else did they have to promise him to take such a damaged prize? Did they lie and tell him my father was some wealthy Neaux lord?

  “What do you get in exchange?” I asked. I did not try to hide my bitterness.

  Layton’s shock was written on his face. He wiped away his expression and leaned back in his chair. He folded his hands on the table in front of him. “I know you are not pleased with an arranged marriage.”

  “What. Did. You. Get. In. Return?” I enunciated every word. My face was flushed with anger. Celia was fluttering behind me, whispering protests.

  “Aland plans to unify the Biski tribes under one rule. In exchange for a marriage alliance, they have promised their armies should the need arise, and your son would rule over both Danhad and the land of the Biski,” Duke Slatone said in his easy measured voice.

  I bit the inside of my lip to keep from snarling. I was the price to expand the kingdom. I thought of my mother’s final words: You are the one who binds nations yet to be born, but without sacrifice there is no future. I thought it was all mad ravings at the time. My mother was no diviner. She could not have known… My gaze drifted to Duchess Diranel; she was watching me. She knew from the start.

  “This is all your fault!” I pointed at her. “What visions have you had for my future that you’re not telling me? What does this marriage really mean?”

  She did not answer straight away, and I could tell she was weighing her response. At last she spoke. “I have not seen anything clearly, but I know that there is a threat awaiting our kingdoms. We must unite to defeat the darkness that is coming. Your marriage could turn the tide against this coming danger.”

  My hands were shaking. It echoed my mother’s sentiments, but had she been coached to say those things, or did she know somehow? I shook my head. I refused to give any of them the satisfaction. “Well, I’m happy you’ve all gotten what you want. Damn my feelings. What am I but a piece of furniture to be placed where you will it?”

  I stormed out of the chamber. Celia, shocked by my words, stood
frozen in place. Anger pumped through my veins. I wanted to kick, hit, anything to express the injustice of it. I hated them all. Every advantage I had, every small kindness was because of one thing. My blood, however tainted, was royal. There were many who had responsibility dropped upon their shoulders and rose to the challenge, but for me I wanted nothing more than to run away. I never asked for this fate; all I wanted was to be free.

  Chapter 4

  The preparations for the wedding were in full bloom. I loathed every moment of it. Celia, on the other hand, was elated. She loved fashion and weddings. She was the romantic sort who thought everything ended with a happily ever after. She talked incessantly about the wedding, the hand-fasting ceremony, the feast afterward.

  I stood upon a pedestal, my arms outstretched while the ancient seamstress poked and prodded at me. She made marks on a tablet of my measurements. Her apprentice, a mousy girl with a thin face and brown hair, scurried about at her mistress’ sharp instruction.

  “Do you think Mathias is handsome?” Celia said. “I imagine he will be a wild kind of handsome. He’ll probably have long dark hair. That’s the style the Biski seem to favor.”

  I ignored her as the seamstress stretched out a length of string along my arm to take my measurement. She had crabbed hands. The flesh was delicate and transparent. The veins and tendons made canyons on the back of her hands.

  “You will be a beautiful couple, with your olive skin and dark hair. I hope your children have your eyes,” Celia said.

  I couldn’t ignore her any longer. Just the thought of my offspring, that I would be forced to make, enraged me. I snapped, “Celia, shut up. I am not happy about this wedding, and I cannot stand to hear you talk about it another moment.”

  She opened and closed her mouth like a fish out of water. Tears brimmed in her eyes. I felt awful. I hadn’t meant to hurt her; my temper had just gotten away with me. The seamstress was done with my measurements, and I stepped down from the pedestal and did something I did not normally do. I put my arm around Celia’s shoulder in a half embrace.

  “I’m sorry, I am. I just…” I sighed. How did I explain to her how much this wedding upset me, the complete lack of concern King Layton and the others had for my feelings? What was I to them but a means to prevent some prophecy? Even Duchess Diranel had admitted that this marriage was not guaranteed to stop the vision she had seen.

  Celia sniffled. “It’s fine. I know you can be a bit coarse sometimes. I’m just so excited for you. We’re starting a new adventure. There’s never been a marriage contract between Danhad and the Biski before. And one day you’ll be a queen, and you’ll rule over all the Biski by Mathias’ side. It’s like you’re a part of history.”

  That gave me pause. I had never considered it like that before. It almost made the whole thing palatable. The only thing that still rankled was my lack of choice in the matter. I never wanted power. I never wanted love. I never expected to be loved or to fall in love. I only wanted freedom, to feel the wind in my hair and rise above the clouds.

  Celia looked at me expectantly. She wanted me to join in her joy and excitement. I didn’t have the heart to crush her dreams. Her romantic notions were all just fairy tales. Marriage was about alliance and political maneuvering. I had seen my brother destroyed by love. He had loved Duchess Diranel and lost his life for it. I didn’t have the heart to tell Celia that, though. “You’re right. I’m just nervous is all.”

  She hugged me. “I’m sorry; I should consider your feelings more before I get carried away.”

  I tried to imagine myself as a girl like Celia. It would be easier if I could remain naïve, but my education within the tunnels had exposed me to the uglier side of love. I had heard snatches of illicit rendezvous, husbands cheating on their wives, and wives doing the same. I had heard girls sobbing over ruined reputations when they had given their virtue before marriage. If there was such a thing as love, then I had never seen evidence of it.

  We greeted the Biski with an elaborate ceremony a few weeks later. The seamstress had crafted a beautiful gown in blue and silver, my house colors. Over that, I wore a long blue cloak trimmed with white fur. Celia had braided my hair and piled the cords on top of my head. Pins with jewels on the ends were stuck in it, and they itched terribly. We were arrayed in the courtyard awaiting our guests. Courtiers milled about waiting for the Biski envoy to arrive. I could not help but fidget. Whenever Idella or Celia was not looking, I scratched at my scalp. I stood beside Aunt Idella, who had an easy grace that was difficult to match. She held her head high, her gaze sweeping over the gathering courtiers. I imagined this was how a prize horse might feel while being displayed for auction.

  A trumpet of horns announced the arrival of the Biski. My stomach clenched. This was the moment I would meet the man I was being forced to marry. I had concocted half a dozen plots in which I would end the engagement, but if rumors of murder were not enough to dissuade the Biski, I was not sure what more I could do short of murdering my intended. No matter what the courtiers thought of me, I would not willingly take another life.

  The Biski rode up the lane amidst much whooping and hollering from them. I took an involuntary step back as they approached. They were intimidating to look at. They had long dark hair tangled up with beads and feathers as ornaments. Most of them had thick black beards, which they braided and decorated with more beads and feathers. On their backs they had strapped weapons, sharp stone axes, bows and arrows, and spears. Their mounts were rough as their riders, with shaggy coats and short stocky legs. Their clothes looked rough, and they wore long tunics with decorated borders. Some wore animal pelts draped over their shoulders.

  I took an unconscious step backwards. I had mocked them and called them savages, but that was based on my own vague knowledge of them. I had only seen a handful in my life, and everything else was gleaned from rumors about the palace. The reality was much more daunting. I cannot marry one of these wild men!

  Layton stepped forward to greet the men. The courtiers, who had been initially shocked by their arrival, were tittering with excitement. This spectacle would be the topic of gossip for some time, I suspected. Their leader jumped down from his mount. He had gray hair peppering his beard and a hard mouth beneath it. He was taller than I thought. When he climbed off his horse, I had to look up to see his face. He approached Layton, who bowed his head in greeting. Even Layton was a head shorter than this man. I looked over to the others. They were all climbing down, and what I had mistook for small horses were regular horses dwarfed by their riders. They are a race of giants!

  “Princess Edalene,” King Layton called to me and beckoned me forward with a flick of his hand. I went, if not a bit hesitantly. I felt the eyes of not only the court but the Biski on me. I stared forward past Layton and the Biski man to the gray-blue sky. A flock of seagulls were reeling overhead.

  “This is Hereol of the Stone clan. He is Aland’s brother; he will be in charge of your welfare as you travel to Reglabal.” Layton introduced the Biski man.

  Hereol bowed to me with hands clasped and pressed to his chest. Then in accented Danhadine he said, “We are honored to escort you to Reglabal and your future husband.”

  I admit I was shocked he knew our tongue. Perhaps I was too quick to judge them. Just because this marriage was not my choosing does not mean I should discount these people.

  I did not want to lie to him and tell him I was grateful, so I remained silent. I felt Aunt Idella’s disapproving gaze burning the back of my neck. I ignored her and glanced over the other Biski men. A man just behind Hereol smirked, as if he were indulging in some secret joke. He was young, maybe five and twenty. He had a short black beard cropped against a square chin and long black hair that he had braided down his back. He was handsome in a savage sort of way. His eyes were dark and almond shaped like many of the Biski people. He, like many of his companions, was tall, but he was also wide in the shoulders with hands that looked big enough to crack a man’s skull. He caught me starin
g, and he winked at me.

  I huffed and looked away. Do not look here to flirt. Many a foolish lord has learned about my sharp tongue, just as you will, I told him silently.

  A banquet was held to welcome our new guests. I was sitting at the head table with King Layton and the rest of the royal family. A few choice members of the Biski envoy were also sitting alongside us. To my relief, the young Biski man was not among them. He sat with his clansmen at the lower tables, drinking and carrying on. Their voices overwhelmed the usual calm that dominated the banquet hall. To the Danhadines they were an oddity. I could not hear what everyone was saying, but I could see it in their expressions: they were looking down upon them. They saw them as less than. What a fitting group to tie my life to, I thought bitterly. Idella was speaking with Hereol, and I decided to slip away. I exited into a hallway outside the banquet hall and leaned against a wall. If I go too far, they’ll send someone to look for me. I was never alone. Not since my brother’s death. I think they feared I would incite some sort of rebellion in my brother’s name. What they failed to realize was I cared nothing for crowns and thrones. I sighed.

  Right on cue, the door swung open, but it was not a guard or even Celia sent to fetch me. An unfamiliar lord peered out the door, and when his gaze rested on me, he smiled.

  “Your Highness, I did not know you were here.” He bowed to me.

  I turned to walk away without reply.

  He chased after me. “I’m sorry if I have offended you in some way.”

  I kept tight lipped. I was in no mood for false courtesies. There were no coincidences. He had seen me slip out, and either he was here to bring me back, or he wanted some favor. Whatever his motives, I would not make it easy for him.

  “Please, Princess, I have an important matter to speak with you about.”