Lovers and Beloveds

by MeiLin Miranda

  For Temmin, this was pure delight--the fresh morning, the sturdy horse moving beneath him, the wind whipping his hair back. This would not be taken from him. This belonged to him. Temmin leaned down over Jebby's neck and let him run.

  When Temmin returned, he got no further than the Keep's mud room when Jenks pounced. He traded his mucky boots for carpet slippers, and once upstairs, his dusty riding clothes for more elegant attire. "Do you need a shave this morning, young sir? You rushed out before I could get a good look at you," called Jenks from the wardrobe.

  Temmin examined his chin in the mirror; still not enough beard to grow out, though his plentiful sideburns and moustache left little to be desired. "No. Why can't I just change my boots?" he said, scrubbing his face with a wet flannel.

  "This is court, Your Highness, you cannot go to breakfast smelling like a horse."

  "I've washed my face and hands! Oh, really, Jenks, a tie? At breakfast?"

  "Just a soft one. The dark blue suits you. And do try to keep egg yolk off it, Your Highness, silk is the Bloody One's Own to clean."

  "Explain to me some time why clothes are such an obsession in the Cavalry," said Temmin, fastening the unwanted cravat with a simple horseshoe stickpin.

  "That's too casual, young sir!" said Jenks as Temmin escaped.

  "That's too bad, Jenks!" replied Temmin over his shoulder.

  Downstairs, most of his family waited for him outside the morning room. "Where's Elly?" said Temmin.

  "She stayed up half the night playing cards with friends in the Little Salon," Sedra sniffed. "She almost never wakes up in time for breakfast."

  "Really?" said Ansella, taking her son's arm. "That will change."

  Indirect sunlight from many high windows flooded the morning room. It was painted robin's egg blue, its longest wall lined with tall mirrors that brightened the room even more. The morning room was a Whithorse innovation, transplanted to the Keep at the insistence of the Queen, and Temmin immediately felt more at home. Strong coffee, cocoa, sausages and newsprint scented the informal room's air. Even the King's face softened as his family gathered round the table, together for the first time in nearly two years.

  "I'm very happy to have you here, Temmin," Harsin said.

  "I'm very happy to be here, Papa," he replied. Affton appeared at his elbow and poured him a cup, half coffee and half cocoa--Temmin's favorite. He liked a well-briefed butler.

  "Tomorrow is your birthday--a man at last," said Harsin. "We shall meet tomorrow morning with Teacher. He was my tutor as well, you know."

  He must be ancient, Temmin said to himself, and added aloud, "What's his name, sir?"

  "Name? Just Teacher." Harsin tapped one finger on the cream damask table cloth. "Tomorrow night is your birthday ball. Everyone of any note in the empire will be attending--most of the major nobility, the high priests and Embodiments of all the Temples but Harla's, of course." Temmin shivered inwardly; who would want Death at one's birthday? "Inchari princelings, ambassadors from the Vakale'le Confederacy nations, and Sairland, too," his father continued. "I trust you are prepared for diplomatic occasions?"

  "Do I have to go? I don't care to dance, and I'm not very good at it," said Temmin. He'd never been to an actual ball, only little parties to practice dancing with his sisters and a few friends.

  "It's in your honor, of course you have to go," said Sedra.

  "You will brush up your dancing with Ellika, then," said Harsin. "The servants are already preparing the ballroom, and the music master is planning out the program this afternoon. That should give you music for practice. I shall have my secretary send Ellika to you whenever she graces us with her presence. You'll acquit yourself just fine--you have your mother's light feet. I've seen you dance myself," he added.

  "You have? When?" said Temmin.

  "Newspapers, Your Highness?" murmured Affton at Temmin's elbow.

  "Ehm, no." He eyed the salver stacked with the morning's news. "I don't read 'em."

  "Very good, young sir." The butler moved on to Sedra. He deposited a large stack of papers at her right hand, a stack almost as high next to Harsin, and a single magazine next to Ansella.

  "You really should read the papers, Temmy," said Sedra, rattling open the top one on the stack with an emphatic flourish. "Rulers must know what is being said."

  "Why are you bothering, then," he snickered. To his surprise, her offended face appeared over the drooping paper; she'd always dismissed his needling with a "Pfft!" and a toss of her head before. "What's wrong, Seddy?"

  She set her jaw, her sharp resemblance to their father strengthening. "Nothing. I've simply forgotten your style of humor."

  Temmin looked down at his plate. She'd always been proud, but she never rose to his bait. Everything and everyone was different here, and he hated it.

  Temmin spent the morning in etiquette drills with Jenks. "Tell me again how one would address the chief wife of the ambassador for the Vakale'le Confederacy."

  "This is pointless--I already know!"

  "Then tell me again."

  By afternoon, he wanted nothing more than a nap on the green velvet couch in his study--the one near the fire. Perhaps a little lunch beforehand. A nicely roasted chicken, a glass of wine, some spring greens in vinaigrette. Soup would also be good. And bread with a bit of cheese and some pickle. And a pudding. Nothing too substantial.

  Ellika found him two hours later, stretched out on the couch sound asleep with the napkin still tucked in his collar and crumbs in his moustache. "Wake up!" She dropped his carpet-slippered feet to the floor, and sat down next to him in a pale green froth of silk flounces.

  Temmin opened one eye. "You look like a cabbage. A very large, very pretty cabbage. Go away." He put his feet in her lap and closed his eye again.

  "I said, wake up, Sir No-Beard!" Ellika poked him in the ribs and bounced on the couch. "Wake up wake up wake up!"

  "I am awake! And I'll have you know I counted ten whiskers this morning," grumbled Temmin.

  "I'm less interested in the condition of your chin than I am in the condition of your feet." She dumped his feet from her lap and stood up. "On with your dancing shoes, young man, I intend to make sure you don't embarrass me or yourself at your birthday party."

  "I don't see where my skill as a dancer has anything to do with you," he said as he removed his carpet slippers.

  "I am widely held to be the best dancer in the City, Temmy, and it will not do to have my little brother stepping on feet and stumbling into people. Come on, up up up!"

  Servants already filled the grand ballroom. Tables and chairs ringed the floor's edges; a small army of boys on ladders polished the gilt-framed mirrors covering the longest wall, their shape echoing the graceful arches of the red-curtained windows they faced. As soon as the Prince and Princess entered the room, the bustle came to a halt; the footmen and maids bowed deep and curtsied deeper, and the boys almost fell off their ladders in their attempts to show respect. Then, as one, the servants turned their faces to the walls.

  "Oh, turn around!" said Temmin. "I despise that custom, and we don't stand for it at the Estate. Affton," he called to the butler, "please instruct the staff not to do that around me." The butler bowed, the smallest of frowns around his eyes. The servants turned to face the room again, timid and surprised.

  Ellika stared. "Seddy and I have been asking them not to do it for ages and ages, but no one listens to us."

  On the stage at the end of the long, gleaming floor stood two tall, thin men with identical black mops of hair, thick moustaches and emphatic eyebrows; the two were busily directing the arrangement of the orchestra's chairs, each contradicting the other. Ellika marched her brother to the stage and clapped her hands for attention. The two men turned in bemusement, and bowed.

  "Master Sullo! Mister Sullo!" she called. "We require practice music. Indulge us, please."

  The musicians blew out their moustaches like hairy little curtains; the music master took up his violin, and his brother f
lexed his long fingers above the piano. They struck up a tune, a simple dobla. Ellika gave a deep curtsey, and Temmin stumbled a bow. "Feet together, Temmy," Ellika murmured.

  Temmin took his sister's hand and let her lead him through the dobla's repeating figures: step, point, switch hands and again, step step step step. A child's dance, the traditional opening of uncouth country barn romps or the most formal ball--cheerful, simple and innocent.

  "It's like sitting a horse," said Ellika. "Balance and posture and keeping your joints loose! Now, see, this isn't so bad!"

  Temmin took her hand in the turn. "It's just been such a long time--we haven't had a dance at the Estate since you left, you know."

  "Whyever not?"

  "Why d'you suppose? Sister Ibbit disapproves of dancing."

  "Oh, pooh. She would. Now, pay attention to what you're doing!" Ellika's sweet, sly smile and quick feet made it more than a children's dance. She added a little snap to the turns, sending her blond curls flirting over first one shoulder, then the other. To Temmin's irritation, she mesmerized every onlooker, especially the junior footmen. He tightened his grasp on her hand, and took her back up the floor away from the servants.

  "Temmy, you dance well!" she crowed when the music ended.

  "I s'pose I do! At least the dobla. I don't know if I remember anything more complicated. And we don't have any other dancers to practice with. So we're done?" he added.

  "Nonsense. We shall practice the quarta." She ran a critical eye over the servants, still standing in an astonished clump at the floor's edge. "Dannikson! Wallek! I know you two can dance--I've caught you at it, and Affton, you are forbidden to punish them," she called up at the butler, who gave a frosty bow.

  A freckled young footman with the brightest red hair Temmin had ever seen and an even younger maid shuffled out from the gaggle. The maid's turned-up nose and wide hazel eyes reminded him of the girl in the hedges at Whithorse, but prettier. A dark, shiny corkscrew curl escaped from her starched white cap; he suppressed an impulse to brush it from her blushing cheek, and smiled at her instead.

  "You take Dannikson, and I'll take Wallek, Temmy," said Ellika. She took the footman's hand in hers, gazing up at him through her lashes. It set Temmin's teeth on edge. Was she flirting with a footman? Wallek held his head up, flushing beneath his freckles, but didn't meet the prince's gaze until Temmin took the maid's hand; his eyes met Temmin's in a clear flash of possessiveness, and Dannikson ducked her head.

  Ellika cleared her throat and Wallek returned his attention. "Shall we dance?" she said. The four placed themselves in the pattern for the quarta, and the music began.

  The steps came back to Temmin faster than he'd expected. He steered Dannikson more than led her, but soon her light, pliant step sent them gliding through the forms: twirling, changing partners, dancing in a ring, beginning again. The girl laughed, nerves forgotten, her cap's red ribbons flying; more curly tendrils slipped out to flutter at her nape. Temmin pulled her closer by degrees. She smelled of hay and tea, and he wanted to bury his nose in her neck. Her quick pulse beat at her wrist beneath his fingers, her corset bones stiff beneath his hand at her back; he wondered how soft her breasts were, whether her nipples were the same sweet, rosy color as those of the girl in the hedge, and he grew impossibly, uncomfortably hard.

  The dance ended. He came to himself and realized she'd sensed his interest, her downcast face mixing pleasure and fear. On a sudden impulse, he bowed over her hand, and released it with an intimate smile. Dannikson burst into a nervous titter, bobbed a curtsey, and ran to hide herself in the knot of maidservants. Temmin fastened his coat, and hoped it hid his arousal enough.

  Ellika dismissed Wallek with a nod and a smile, and slipped her arm through her brother's as they left the ballroom. "I don't care for you flirting with footmen," said Temmin as soon as they were out of earshot.

  "You were flirting. I was making my partner comfortable," said Ellika with a dismissive wave. "Dannikson and Wallek are sweethearts. Everyone knows. Don't let Mama see you flirting with the help, or you'll get the poor girl fired."

  Temmin found his tea laid out on the small table in his study. "Oh thank Amma, I'm starving," he said as Jenks poured him a cup.

  "When are you not starving, young sir? How did your dancing practice go?"

  "Very well, actually!" said Temmin around a mouthful of ham sandwich. He swallowed. "I remember more of my dancing than I expected to, and I rather enjoyed it. And I danced with the prettiest maid."

  "Stop dunking biscuits in your tea, you turn eighteen tomorrow. Miss Ellika is very lovely indeed, young sir," said Jenks as he walked back to the bedchamber.

  "No, no, not Elly, though she's a very pretty maid, if you want to put it all poetically. Jenks, she was flirting with a footman!"

  "Miss Ellika flirts with lampposts, Your Highness," the valet's voice floated from the other room.

  "She needs to stop. She's a princess. No, I mean an actual maid, a very pretty little thing named Dannikson."

  "Oh?"

  "She reminds me very much of a girl I kissed at the Estate, the night before we left."

  The valet's head appeared in the doorway. "You kissed a girl?"

  "That's what I said, isn't it!" said Temmin, pleased with himself.

  "You just surprised me, that's all," said Jenks, returning to his side. "I thought you were out drinking with Alvo that night. Who was this girl, young sir?"

  "Don't know, really. Just a maid," said Temmin. "Never saw her before. I think she works at Meadow House. Quite pretty. I would have noticed if she'd been among the old biddies we have for maids."

  "Meadow House," said Jenks, leaning against the couch. "What was her name?"

  Temmin slurped his tea. "Mmpf--Matti-something. Said they called her Mattie."

  "Mattisanis Dunley, perhaps?"

  "D'you know her?"

  "I know of her," said Jenks, face closed. "So, what happened, young sir? Did we become a man earlier than our birthday?"

  "Oh, no such luck. Though she did let me kiss her. Let me touch her breasts, too, before I threw up. Gods, I was drunk as Farr. Jenks, did you know, breasts are incredibly beautiful."

  "Yes, they are" said Jenks, his voice abstracted. "Temmin, promise me something." Temmin looked up; Jenks seldom called him by name. "Promise me you'll leave Miss Dannikson and the other maids alone. That's my hunting ground, not yours. D'you understand?"

  "Bit young for you, old man, wouldn't you say?"

  "Be careful. You're unused to court life and young women. You're not a boy. You're eighteen tomorrow. Even if you weren't young and handsome, you'd dazzle a princess let alone a downstairs maid--you're the Heir. You may find yourself entangled before you know it."

  "I'm not going to get my heart broken by a maidservant," snorted Temmin.

  "Yours isn't the heart I'm worried about," said Jenks. Temmin furrowed his brow, puzzled. Jenks sighed. "Your Highness, just be careful. Leave the maids to me. You're sure her name was Mattie?"

  "Positive! You're not going to go look her up too, are you?" said Temmin in irritation.

  "Oh, no, not at all." Jenks walked back to the wardrobe, hands clamped behind him. "I'm fairly sure I know who she is."

  CHAPTER TWO

  Neyaday, the 9th Day of Spring's Beginning

  The first thing Temmin saw when he looked into the bathroom mirror on his birthday was a man. He was eighteen; that was that, he was an adult now. "And I still can't grow a proper beard," he said aloud, rubbing his chin.

  "What, sir?" called Jenks.

  "Nothing!"

  The second thing he saw when he looked in the bathroom mirror was a face not his own.

  Underneath his own reflection lay a faint tracing--a smooth face, a paler, thinner face with precise features, odd silver eyes, and iron-colored hair pulled back in an old-fashioned tail. He blinked, and it disappeared.

  "Jenks? Insanity doesn't run in the family, does it?"

  "Not to my knowledge, sir," said J
enks.

  It happened again when he came back to the stable yard from his ride with Jebby. They went to the trough, and Temmin leaned down to splash himself. The water's smooth surface reflected his face: flushed, sweaty, happy, and a little dusty. But as he watched, the strange figure reappeared, its cold, intense eyes staring. For some reason, Temmin thought of the wardrobe in Nurse's room, back in the nursery at the Estate. How convinced he had been that the Black Man lived in there--why would he think of that?

  The impatient Jebby stuck his nose in the trough and took a slurp; ripples broke the water's surface, and the reflections vanished. "Here, Your Highness," said a groom, taking Jebby's bridle, "I'll see to 'im, go off to your birthday breakfast. You look a bit pinched, if I may be so bold!"

  "I am hungry, thank you," he murmured. "That explains a great deal."

  Even Ellika, pink and yawning with sleep, attended the breakfast table that morning. He accepted everyone's congratulations, and sat with his back to the morning room's mirrors. Why were there so many mirrors in this place?

  Sedra was polite but formal, and said nothing to him about newspapers even though he took The Daily Voice of Tremont from the pile atop Affton's salver. "You don't want that," said his father. "Read The Morning Capital first--a proper newspaper--then you can read that radical nonsense." Temmin nodded, put both papers beside his plate, and opened neither.

  "I have meetings this morning, Temmin," said Harsin at meal's end, "but after lunch I shall expect you in my study to meet Teacher."

  "I'm going back to bed," said Ellika, still yawning. "No amount of coffee can wake me up."

  "Oh dear, I hoped we'd go through my jewel case, to see if there's anything you'd like to wear tonight," smiled her mother as she rose. "I suppose it can wait."

  "Mama, wait!" said Ellika, following Ansella from the table. "I'm suddenly feeling much more awake!"

  Sedra tucked her remaining newspapers under her arm, and rose herself. Now, Temmin decided, was the time to patch things up. "Seddy," he said, catching up with her at the door. "Do you still like to walk after breakfast?"