A Royal Affair

by John Wiltshire

  I felt uneasy for some reason. I was delighted for Stephen and thought it was an excellent move in theory. Aleksey had apparently taken to heart the lesson from the suspected poisoning of the old king—choose an heir who preferred you alive to dead. But this ascension of Stephen’s wasn’t a rise to fill an empty place—moving into an empty chair at dinner. Aleksey already had an heir—Harold.

  Aleksey had just displaced his uncle from the line of succession.

  Stephen was speaking. I heard him squeak, “I am willing,” and had to smile at the incongruity of his tone with the solemnity of his intent.

  Prince Stephen returned to his place with us, and he said nothing more that I heard for the rest of the day. That was quite novel.

  We were all in a very pleasant mood and waiting eagerly to be dismissed for luncheon, when the bugle sounded again, and the herald called my name. I had been slightly dreading this. I suspected Aleksey might make my role as surgeon to the army more official by actually appointing me surgeon general, or that he might appoint me to the court as the royal physician. I wasn’t too sure what I felt about either of these titles and had wondered whether to tell him to leave me as I was. However, he had called me, and I had to go. I strode out to the front and mounted the dais.

  He looked completely magnificent, every inch a king, in beautiful clothes that I wished to rip off him very roughly. So I knelt once more to him. If he found this amusing, no one would have known from his expression. He looked very serious as he pulled out his sword.

  I had never realized how significant this ritual was before—a man bowing his head meekly to another who stands over him so armed. My neck twitched a little as a cool draft blew over it. Perhaps it was the brush of ghosts of the many men I had relieved of their heads, their necks bared to my sword in the act this ritual was mimicking.

  The blade was light upon one shoulder. I felt the air stir as it moved to the other.

  “Arise, Sir Nikolai Hartmann.”

  I took my knighthood with surprising equanimity until I saw the look of pure, unadulterated love in his eyes as I stood facing him. It took all my strength then to keep my grin inside. I did it for him, for my king.

  He appeared to be waiting to be quite sure I was going to behave myself—the last time we had stood this close, about three hours earlier, he had been holding my cock, and I was most definitely not behaving, and I knew he was recalling this too.

  All his talent for theatrics appeared to pay off, for I doubt there was another person in that audience who understood any of what then followed, except for the obvious they were meant to comprehend.

  “I, Christian, appoint you, Nikolai, Chief Minister of Hesse-Davia and Saxefalia, with all accordant rights. Do you solemnly swear to govern the Peoples according to their laws and customs?”

  Chief Minister? It didn’t seem the time to ask for clarification. “I do so swear.” Could they not hear the thump, thump of my heart?

  “Will you give good counsel and support?”

  It was what I’d dreamed of doing for Aleksey since first we met. “I will.”

  “Do you promise to be faithful to me alone?”

  I heard my reply steady and strong, although Aleksey had begun to blur slightly. “I will be faithful to you alone.”

  At that, he quirked his lip and nodded. It appeared I was dismissed.

  I walked backward to the steps and then turned smartly to regain my place with my friends. They gave me congratulations due a man who now outranked every member of the council. I outranked everyone in the kingdom other than the immediate royal family. I even outranked the court nobility.

  It was all as nothing to me.

  I had just promised in front of the entire court to be Aleksey’s for life.

  Aleksey had made these appointments without consulting anyone. He was flexing his muscles.

  He had a cohort of friends around him now, with whom he could live a relatively normal life whilst still fulfilling his royal duties. And he had his chief minister in his bed and in his body whenever he wanted him.

  I was more in thrall to King Christian than ever.

  CHAPTER 27

  ALEKSEY, GREGORY, Johan, and I then set about a plan to reform Hesse-Davia. It may have sounded grand, but that was how we saw it. Johan was included in these conferences because we intended to use his army to make many of our reforms. When not at war, an army has very little to do to keep itself busy and in readiness. We intended to make better use of ours.

  I did not know who came up with the first best plan: the new palace. I think I did, but Aleksey claimed it was his idea. Whatever, we both decided that the castle was a very unfortunate place for us to live. Aleksey was sleeping in his brother’s old rooms, which were quite regal and spacious but still inconvenient for us. They allowed far too free access to the court, whose officials wandered in day or night whenever the whim took them, as they had with the old king. Also, the castle, as I had thought on my arrival in the capital, was small and unbefitting a royal residence. However the palace got proposed, the idea soon took off between us, and we could talk of very little else for a while.

  Aleksey was doubtful that the country could support the expense of a new building on quite such a scale as I imagined. I had not thought about Versailles or St. James’s Palace in London, but I did want something bigger and grander for Aleksey than the old castle he had always lived in. So I suggested he get the Saxefalians to pay for it—a gesture to repay Hesse-Davia for its losses in the war. Losses which included their king and prince, for the unfortunate chain of events that had led to King Christian’s ascension had begun with their invasion of the peninsula. He liked this idea. I’d thought he might.

  Where to build the palace became the next interesting problem, but this was quickly solved, and we had Johan to thank for it. Once more, he suggested the officers’ summer villa: the House of Lust. Of course, once Aleksey heard this and saw a possibility for his palace to be so nicknamed, he was all for the idea. We would not tear down the existing villa, for it was spacious and very well constructed, but would incorporate it into his new building and use it as an annex for visiting courtiers. For this was to be the very best part of the plan. Aleksey intended to continue to hold court in the castle but to live in the new palace. The courtiers would live at the castle and visit the palace only when, and if, they needed to see the king. King Christian’s first minister, though, had a suite of rooms at the new palace—which he did not intend to use.

  The palace did not take precedence over some of Aleksey’s other major changes. He took this opportunity of being a king with unlimited power instead of merely a prince with good ideas to carry through some of his projects with the army. He knew it was not ideal having little boys and old men tagging along with an army on the move. But he was loath to see wounded old soldiers thrown out on the streets to beg, as they were in almost every other European country, or to have children, orphaned through no fault of their own, left to thieve and sell themselves on the streets so they could eat. He established an orphanage and an old soldiers’ home in the capital and had plans to copy both these throughout the country.

  He had a reforming zeal about him that was infectious to those of us who loved and admired him. There were many of us, of course, but not… all. Aleksey made many enemies at this time, as did I.

  OUR LITTLE reforming group had one other member who would not have been included had I had my way. I argued vehemently against the appointment but was outvoted. By Aleksey. He said as he was king his vote was more important than mine. I do not think he entirely understood how these things were supposed to work.

  Princess Anastasia joined our group, and I could no longer continue my self-delusion that she did not exist.

  I had begun this tactic of refusing to admit Anastasia’s existence when I had been preparing to march to war with Aleksey. Much of his work readying his army for war had been done with Anastasia at his side—reviewing the lines on their warhorses, the princess dressed fe
tchingly in a scarlet uniform jacket and wearing a matching hat to Aleksey’s. When he held meetings, requesting updates from his officers, she was usually present. When we set out on the march, Aleksey spent the morning secluded with her in her rooms at the palace, presumably saying his farewells. I cannot confirm this is what they were doing, because of course I was not present. I was not present during most of the time he spent with Anastasia, and it had occurred to me that rather than burn, rather than die a little every hour they were together, wondering what he was doing, it was far more pleasant to pretend that Anastasia didn’t exist.

  So clever had I become at doing this, she was not on the dock to welcome the grieving, newly crowned king back to Hesse-Davia. She was not present at the funeral of the old king. She did not walk up the cathedral aisle upon Aleksey’s arm as he went forward for his formal coronation. She particularly did not sit next to him at the celebratory feast, and I am very certain she did not dance with him all night after that event.

  So when Aleksey told me that Anastasia would be joining our first reforming group, I almost asked, “Who?”

  I was burning with jealousy and could do nothing about it. This was the only time in my life when I wished that I were a woman and not a man, for if I had been, I would have had the opportunity to fight her, metaphorically, for Aleksey’s heart. But I could not marry Aleksey, even if I could somehow rid myself (and Aleksey, obviously) of her presence—life—essence—scent—even the sound of her footsteps. I could not even openly admit to loving him, so what chance did I have of parting him from her side now we were back and he was the king? It was, therefore, with no good grace that I received the news she was attending our first reform meeting, which was being held at Gregory’s inn.

  I mounted Xavier in the castle courtyard and waited for Aleksey. My whole life consisted of waiting for Aleksey these days. Being king, he was not able to schedule his own day. I was not, therefore, impressed or amused, having waited for well over an hour, when he arrived with Anastasia, because a possible reason for his delay immediately occurred to me. I deliberately swung Xavier around and went ahead without them. I didn’t want to hear her conversation. I didn’t want to see her face. Anyone who has ever suffered such jealousy of someone you could not fight would sympathize with my very bad temper that day.

  Aleksey caught me up as we rode across the meadow where I had beaten him so soundly in a race. He even alluded to this, saying cheerfully, “Do not race me again, Niko, for I am king now and should not be beaten in anything.”

  I then began to picture putting him over my knee and beating him very severely, and not in the fun way of that either. He kept glancing at me every so often, but I refused to take the bait and respond, keeping my eyes firmly fixed on the sea in the distance.

  “You are being unconscionably rude to my fiancée, I think. You have not even greeted her, and she expressly wanted to speak with you.”

  “Why?”

  “As she is joining our group, she has prepared many splendid ideas we know you will love.”

  We. I could have spat. I had thought that we were the we, not them.

  He was playing with Boudica’s mane thoughtfully. “We are both very glad that you decided to stay in Hesse-Davia, for as chief minister, you will be able to oversee the wedding preparations. It would not do to have them shoddy.” When I did not reply, he continued, “Where do you suggest we go on our wedding tour? I have always wanted to see where Alexander was born. Anastasia would like to go to England.” Suddenly he turned, his eyes bright. “I know, you could come with us—see England again. You would like that, would you not?” Then he pouted. “But it would be terribly awkward, having you there.” Our horses moved closer, and his thigh touched mine. I eased away, making some deceptively casual apology. He began to laugh, and I turned to him. I was very close to possibly ruining many things, including our relationship, but I saw something in his eye that was too wicked, too knowing, to let go without comment.

  I narrowed my eyes, considering. “Why are you laughing at me?”

  “Because you are so funny when you are cross with me.” He poked my leg. “Which would mean that you are a very funny man indeed, for you are always cross with me.”

  “Well stop being such a… so—the devil’s cunt, Aleksey, why are you talking so to me? Why did she have to come?”

  He gasped theatrically at my language. “And how old are you, Niko?”

  I did not see what this had to do with anything. Eventually he said, amused, “I do not see what you are jealous of, really. She does not get to share my bed, and she has not the equipment I like to make me happy, as you do.”

  I was so angry and jealous I could feel my heart pounding overfast in my chest. “But she will—I mean, share your bed, not grow a cock.”

  He sighed. “Nikolai Hartmann, you are no fun to tease at all. You are too savage entirely. We have no intention of wedding. We never had. She and I are in very harmonious accord on this subject. She had to marry and was sent to Hesse-Davia. I had to beget heirs and met her as my potential wife. We met; we talked. We both discovered we had no wish whatsoever to marry anyone and decided that our engagement would be very convenient. We will one day run out of excuses why the marriage is delayed so often, but so far everyone is happy with the arrangement as we are both still young. There, are you satisfied? God’s breath. I was going to spin this out all day to annoy you, but she said I was cruel and that you should be put out of your misery.”

  I could hardly take any of this in, as the blood pounding too fast in my body made me stupid and my ears ring, but I fastened on this last with horror. “She knows! My God, you have told her about us! About—that I—with—” I could finish no coherent thought for the images that rose in my mind of the images that must be rising in hers every time she looked at me. Or not. How much had he told her? How much would a girl her age know? My God.

  “Oh, don’t look like that. God save us, you are never going to be able to look her in the face again, are you?”

  But I’d moved on, my thoughts now spinning away to his earlier declaration. “I don’t believe that she does not want to marry you. She’s lying, tricking you. How could she not?”

  He was still laughing at me, darting me little amused looks. “Am I so adorable? Would you marry me, Niko?” He leered over, making kissing sounds.

  “Don’t be so….” I made to kick Xavier to fly away from all these emotions that I could not tolerate, but Aleksey caught the bridle.

  “Wait. I’m sorry. Anastasia is not like other women, Nikolai. She does not want marriage or children. Today she wants to captain her own ship; last week she asked Johan if she could join his army. She longs for something more but cannot have it. She would not marry me if I were—”

  “Beautiful and a king?”

  He laughed. “No, not even then. Niko, listen, do you remember when I first came upon you in the forest?”

  “Yes, of course, I thought you a very arrogant, annoying baby, and I have not changed my opinion since.”

  He snorted. “That is not what you said last night when you had my… anyway…. In the forest, do you remember that you did not see Johan or Gregory at first?”

  “What does this have to do—”

  “They blended in with their surroundings and went unnoticed. Anastasia is my camouflage, do you see? And I hers. As far as the court is concerned, I am not out riding with my beloved today but with her, my betrothed.” He saw me frown, trying to work this out, and slapped my arm, annoyed. “You! You, you dullard, are my beloved!”

  “Oh.” I glanced at our companion, some fifty feet or so behind. “I still do not see why she has to join—” Aleksey spurred Boudica to flight, so he was spared my sulking.

  ARRIVING AT Gregory’s, we must have appeared an odd group—strung out and not speaking with each other. No one commented, though; I think they expected us to be eccentric. Our situation was rather unique, after all.

  I discovered why Anastasia wanted to be one
of our group when she poured forth her ideas. She had hundreds of ideas about what she wanted to do to make the lives of the poor people better, and nearly all of them were very good indeed. She saw life slightly different to the rest of us, being female, so her plans centered on improving the lives of women. And she did have a point. I had seen the added degradation that the women, with their burden of childbearing and rearing, suffered in this country.

  But it is hard to go from seething jealousy to approval in the course of one evening over dinner, however good a cook Gregory was. Anastasia appeared to see something in my expression—perhaps the clench I had on my jaw, perhaps the wrinkle of my nose or the eye roll at her suggestions—and commented sharply, “If you improve the lot of women, Colonel, you raise the whole family. Give money to men, and they will spend their good fortune in wine and loose women—or some of them will….”

  I could not tell if she was allowing that some men were not wastrels or making a far more subtle observation that loose women were safe from some men.

  I expected Aleksey to leap in and prevent me answering her—he often did this with other people when he feared I was about to speak my mind, but he was studiously listening to Johan and pretending not to be aware of our imminent spat.

  I pursed my lips for a moment, thinking, and then replied, “A woman should not have authority over a man. She should remain quiet.” I left a tiny pause, not enough for her to interject, and added, “So your Christian Bible says.”

  “Quite right, Colonel.” She did not seem the least put out by my attempt to annoy her. I didn’t know why I was doing it, for I was not a Christian and agreed with her about the women. “It also says whoever would be great amongst you must be your servant. I’ve always taken that to mean men should be subservient to women.”