“The book?” she reminded him.
“Right.” The prince turned a little red. “Well, supposedly there are nomadic tribes living on the steppes north of Elsland. No one has travelled there since the trolls declared themselves an independent nation, but according to an account from a horse-trader who has actually read the book I’m looking for, those tribes possess remarkable horses—an elegant breed without a name, that are capable of unheard-of feats of speed and endurance.”
Prince Cambren seemed to hold horses in the sort of reverence Ellie herself reserved for books.
“So is it a traveler’s account that includes information on horses, or is the entire book about horses?” Ellie enquired thoughtfully. This was more familiar territory than flirtatious members of the royal family. It might sound like a trivial difference to the uninitiated, but it would completely change the book’s shelving.
“Well… I’m not sure,” Cambren admitted. “All I know is that the trader thought the library here had a copy of the book, but he couldn’t recall the name of the author.”
“That is tricky.” Ellie bit her bottom lip, thinking hard. “You could be right that it would be shelved in fiction, given that most scholars can’t agree on what lies north of Elsland. Or, it could be with the anonymous travel narratives, which would make it even more difficult to find. That’s one of the larger collections we have. Or, it could even be under natural sciences, if it deals primarily with descriptions of animals.”
“I’m sorry.” Cambren ran a hand through his sandy hair and offered her a tentative smile. “I don’t want to make more work for you.”
“Nonsense,” Ellie scoffed. “This is just the kind of problem I’ve been needing.” She could feel her excitement rising as she contemplated the mystery. There would be research to do. She might have to search the stacks, and even the acquisitions record…
Suddenly her brain caught up with her mouth. “Er. Is it possible that I just accused you of speaking nonsense, Your Highness?” She could feel her blush spreading up her neck and completely suffusing her face.
“If you did, I’m quite certain it was deserved,” the prince responded cheerfully. “But I can’t be sure. My brothers tell me that my memory and my hearing are both hideously unreliable.”
Elisette actually had to hold back a chuckle. “Thank you, Your Highness. I suspect this book may be more than usually difficult to find. If you’ll return in a few days, I’ll have a progress report for you.”
“Thank you.” The prince swept her a bow that was simultaneously less graceful and far more respectful than his brother’s. “Until then.”
Elisette watched him retreat back towards the reading room with an uneven stride, her curiosity growing with each passing moment. Had he separated her from the others on purpose? Either to keep her conversation to himself, or to remove her from a clearly awkward situation?
If the former, he was possibly more dangerous to her than his brothers. He’d recognized her passion for books and exploited it masterfully. If the latter, then he was far too nice to be stuck with those other two wretches for siblings.
Prince Cambren was honest enough to admit that it was difficult for him to wait more than a day to return to the library. It wasn’t the girl’s spectacular beauty that motivated him, no matter how badly Eldrick needled him about his “obsession.” Not that she wasn’t beautiful. No rumor could have done justice to her long auburn hair, flawlessly pale skin, and perfect oval face, with captivating green eyes, full lips, and a slight but adorable dimple on the left side.
No, what he felt was something else—a kindred sense of passion. Hers might be for books, as much as his was for horses, but he recognized a fellow soul who would walk through fire for the sake of an interest no one else understood.
And her accusation—that he’d only come to gawk at her—had touched on another sensitive part of his life. He knew all too well what it was to be stared at, even if it was for a far different reason. Much of his fascination with horses had come about because of his limp—horses never made him feel awkward, and when he was a child, riding had permitted him to pretend he was no different than anyone else.
Still, he didn’t let himself think of the girl—Elisette—in terms of a personal interest. But in terms of friendship? Perhaps he possessed enough natural optimism to dare to imagine such an unlikely outcome.
So, after three days, he presented himself again, this time slipping away from the palace and riding to the library without his brothers. They would mock him, once they discovered his absence and guessed its cause, but he was used to their mockery. Well, Eldrick’s mockery. Dauntry would mock him just the same but cloak it in patronizing reproach.
“I’m here to see Miss Elisette,” he told the tall, thin fellow who greeted him upon his entry. When the man rolled his eyes, Cambren hastened to add: “She’s been searching for a book I requested.”
“Yes,” the brown-robed man drawled sarcastically. “That’s what they all say.”
Taken aback, Cambren seated himself at a table and glanced around with dawning awareness. There were far more people in the library than he’d encountered on his last few visits, and most of them did not strike him as regular visitors. He recognized several courtiers he would swear had never picked up a book of their own free will, and at least one man who proved to be holding a book upside down.
Clearly, Elisette had more than enough grounds for her suspicions about his motives. Were the men of Ranidane really so transparent?
He waited for nearly a quarter of an hour before Elisette hastened in, looking mulish and frustrated, her hair askew and her lips pinched tightly together. Until she saw him.
“Oh, it’s you,” she said, her expression brightening as she added a belated, “Your Highness. Come with me, please.”
She whirled around before anyone else had a chance to accost her and nearly ran from the room.
Cambren was hard pressed to catch up. She kept well ahead of him, even disappearing around one corner before she seemed to remember he was following.
“I’m so sorry,” she said wearily, reappearing and waiting for him at the end of the hall. “I was in such a hurry to get away I forgot…” Her face turned fiery red.
“That my speed gives turtles ample room for boasting?” Cam grinned at her. “There’s a reason I ride nearly everywhere I go, but I doubt the grim fellow by the door would allow my horse to cross the threshold.”
A brief chuckle escaped her as she led the way into a small room at the back of the library. “I’d probably pay to see it. But that’s not why you’re here.” She leaned towards him, her eyes bright with triumph. “I found it!”
“You did?” A little stunned, Cambren tilted his head curiously as she picked up a slender, leather-bound volume from the sole table in the room. “Where was it?”
“Fiction, exactly as you suggested,” she confided in a low voice, handing him the book. “It was improperly entered, both in acquisitions and the catalog, and no one had bothered to read it to confirm whether or not the author gave any clue to his identity.”
“I take it you rectified the situation?” He couldn’t help asking, even though he thought he already knew the answer.
“Of course,” she replied, shooting him a disgusted glance. “It’s quite fascinating reading. I can see why you were hoping to find it.”
“Well, I truly can’t thank you enough,” Cam said sincerely, clasping the book reverentially in both hands. “I promise to read it carefully and not trouble you again.”
“It shouldn’t take you more than a few visits to read,” Elisette remarked, looking at the ground and suddenly sounding a little shy. “I hope you’ll let me know if there are any other challenging books you wish to acquire.”
He bowed, to hide his smile. “I will, madam.”
There were other things he wished he could say. Like, “I’m sorry for the idiocies of men in general.” Or, “don’t give up, because there’s always hope for better thing
s ahead.” But instead he watched her go with only a tiny sigh, wishing there were some way he could help.
By dawn on the morning of the public assembly, Cambren had already been in the barn for several hours. One of his best mares had done as mares often do, and decided to drop her latest foal at an unholy hour somewhere between midnight and sunrise. As a result, he was bleary-eyed and rumpled when he arrived at the throne room, trying hastily to remove the knots from his ceremonial sash.
Eldrick groaned theatrically at the sight. “Little brother, must you always remind our subjects that you spend more time in the barn than you do seeing to your wardrobe?”
“I expect our subjects know that you spend enough time at your tailor’s for the both of us,” Cam retorted good-naturedly. “And I have a perfectly lovely little silver buckskin filly, only a few hours old, so you can’t possible irritate me today.”
“Ah, perhaps not, but you should never underestimate your own genius for irritating Dauntry. Today of all days, perhaps you ought to have paid heed to something besides your confounded horses.”
Cambren didn’t bother disagreeing, just allowed Eldrick to assist him in rearranging his sash to hide the worst of the wrinkles. By the time Dauntry strode into the waiting room, he was as put together as he was going to get.
The buzz of courtiers and assorted citizens in the throne room beyond the door was growing to a loud hum. Ever since Ambrose, King Lorne’s seneschal, had made the announcement of the king’s impending retirement, anticipation had been growing amongst Anura’s citizens. Who would be the next king? What would the proposed challenges entail?
Cambren guessed there was some relief amongst the citizenry, in addition to curiosity. King Lorne had been an exceptional sovereign, but the kingdom’s wealth had begun to decline along with the king’s interest in foreign affairs. The wool trade was down, the price of leather and cheese was slipping, and the popularity of Anuran wines had begun to dwindle. Or so Cam had heard the last time he’d been forced to sit in on a council meeting.
Oddly enough, it was Eldrick who spoke first. “Whatever happens in there, I hope we can agree that it has no bearing on our relationship as brothers.”
“As if it could,” Dauntry scoffed. “No matter what Father asks of us, no matter what he decides, I swear that I will bear neither of you any ill will.”
“Well, that’s awkward,” Cam murmured apologetically. “And here I was already planning the least messy way to assassinate you both.”
Dauntry’s expression grew cold and disapproving. “This isn’t the time to make a joke, Cam.”
“Of course not,” Cam answered, dipping his head to hide a smile. “Can’t imagine what I was thinking.”
When the doors swung open, the three of them stepped out and all chattering ceased. The eyes of their gathered subjects followed their progress down the long room until they stopped and knelt in front of their father.
“Rise,” King Lorne told them. “Turn and face your people.”
They turned.
“As you know,” the king said, his voice rising to fill the entire room, “I have announced my intention to step down from the throne by the end of the year, to make way for one of my sons. To my shame, after my protracted period of grief following the death of my wife and your beloved queen, I do not know my sons as well as I ought. I find myself unable to choose amongst them with confidence that I am making the best decision for the future prosperity of our fair land.”
Cam looked fixedly at the floor and tried to hold back a flood of memories. His father had once been a spectacular orator. Though he’d given few speeches since the queen’s death, he was clearly in fine form on this occasion.
“To aid in this decision, I have therefore chosen a series of tests, or challenges if you will, designed to give each of my sons the opportunity to display their knowledge, their flexibility, and their strength of character. Each of these attributes will be vitally important to your future sovereign as he seeks the welfare of Anura and her people.”
A glance to the side revealed the elder princes’ characteristic reactions to their father’s proclamation. Dauntry’s shoulders were square and his chin was high, while Eldrick tried to hide sick apprehension behind a slight sneer. Cam couldn’t help but feel sorry for them. He’d never suffered under either the desire or the expectation that he would rule, so his appearance here was little more than a formality. Whatever the challenges turned out to be, he would participate because his title required it, and then disappear back into the barn where it didn’t matter that he limped and was never quite formal enough for important matters of state.
“Each of these challenges,” the king continued, “has been contrived in memory of my beloved wife, Queen Luna. It was her love for life, her generosity of spirit, and most of all her friendship that has made me the king I am, and I hope to impress upon you all the importance of those qualities that she shared so generously with everyone around her.”
Cam heard a few sniffles coming from the crowd, and imagined that his father’s eyes were not quite dry either. Everyone had loved Queen Luna, so it was no surprise that the invocation of her memory should prove emotional for many in attendance.
“Her Majesty, if you remember, was from Astoria. She came to love Anura’s fields and forests, and to enjoy our wines and cheeses as much as any native-born Anuran, but I could never quite convince her that wool was a suitable fabric for clothing.”
A ripple of laughter rolled across the room. It was true. The queen had made it quite clear that she couldn’t abide wearing anything made from one of Anura’s most lucrative exports. She’d felt terribly disloyal for it, but no one had loved her any less.
“As a tribute, then, to Her Majesty, Queen Luna, I task each of you, my sons, to acquire a bolt of silk.”
Cam’s head jerked up. What?
What could silk possibly have to do with ruling the kingdom?
Even Eldrick, fond as he was of his tailor, found that odd. His eyes darted to Cam’s, sharp with worry and confusion.
“It cannot just be any bolt of silk,” the king admonished. “It must be the best, therefore it will pass through a series of tests. The silk that wins this challenge must be finely made, so that I can draw the entire length of it through the queen’s wedding band.”
Well that was just plain ridiculous. Had their father grown more maudlin than they realized? Cam wanted to look back over his shoulder, to assess his father’s mood, but even he knew that just wasn’t done.
“It must be strong,” the king continued. “Strong enough to support the weight of a man, and yet light. The entire bolt must be able to balance when laid on a scale against the weight of my signet ring.”
Cam wasn’t the only one who thought that sounded impossible. The crowd had begun to murmur and exchange glances in a decidedly concerned way.
“And lest my sons or those others in attendance grow to suspect I am mad,” the king added, “each of these qualities represent those which I also hope to see in my sons. He must be strong enough to support the weight of his kingdom, and yet fine and noble enough to conduct himself with grace amongst his enemies. He must be capable of great things, and yet light enough in humor to see the grace in everyday moments of levity.”
A harsh grinding sound reached Cam’s ears, even over the murmurs of the crowd. Probably Dauntry’s teeth. He couldn’t have appreciated that comment about levity.
“In three days,” King Lorne pronounced, “we will reassemble to see my sons’ answers to this challenge. Until then, my people, I wish you peace and good health. You are all dismissed.”
The crowd parted automatically, allowing the princes room to exit as they exchanged curious glances. How would they answer this challenge? Who would emerge victorious?
And what was the king really thinking?
Chapter 4
Elisette awoke early, feeling particularly dispirited. By now, she could predict exactly how her days were going to go. First, a quick wash bef
ore donning her library robe and running downstairs for a tasteless breakfast of grain porridge—tasteless if she was lucky and Rilla was out of sheep’s cheese to add “a little extra flavor, my dear”.
She would listen to the other girls chatter over their porridge, and would feel their sidelong glances, but none of them would try to engage her in conversation. At least not since she’d interrupted them one morning to offer the information that no, Caladonian children were not actually born with webbed feet.
Perhaps she had sounded a trifle scornful. And when she’d realized that none of them had been granted sufficient opportunity to embrace education, she’d offered to teach them history and geography in the evenings after dinner. For some reason that hadn’t helped at all.
After an underwhelming breakfast, she would accept her lunch from Rilla and dodge the crowds in the market square on her way to the library, where she would be tripped, sneered at, undermined, and ogled until it was time to return to her lodgings. If she was lucky, she would sneak in an hour or two of study somewhere in the day, before going to sleep and enduring frustrated dreams until it was time to wake and do it all over again.
She’d had so many shining hopes. So many ideas about what this new life would be like, and none of them had remotely approached the truth. Her assumption that Lady Caro would be willing to mentor her—or even support her in her ambitions—had proven wildly off the mark. While she was not particularly unkind, Lady Caro had made no effort to be familiar with or aid her new female apprentice. Even Elisette’s questions about being potentially recommended for tutoring posts, to provide her with an income, had been met with disinterest and skepticism.
Which was actually a bigger problem than the rest. When Ellie dug into her purse that morning, she could feel that it was growing dangerously light. If she didn’t come up with some way to earn money soon, she would be faced with uncomfortable choices. Should she take a different job, one that paid but was filled with unending, hopeless drudgery with no time for study? Or turn tail and run home, proving that everyone had been right, and girls couldn’t be scholars or apprentices?
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