by Shea, K. M.
The Wild Swans
By: K. M. Shea
a Take Out The Trash! Publication
Copyright © K.M. Shea 2013
All Rights Reserved.
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Ending A
Ending B
Coming Soon
Chapter 1
“One of your underlings made a mistake, Dewdrop. The royal fields yielded a higher income in wheat than what is recorded.”
The use of a sardonic nickname and the know-it-all tone Falk adopted as he stabbed his finger at the recorded accounts set Elise on edge.
“You are correct, brother. However, the recorded number is the gross profit. The number is derived after paying the farmers, subtracting the cost of seed, and so on. Also, I’m afraid if there is a mistake in the agricultural accounts, you have me to blame as I was the only member of the Treasury Department to work on them,” Elise said.
As if she would inflict Falk on any of her subordinates. Hah!
Falk leaned back in his chair. “I am not your brother, Sweetling.”
“I apologize, Prince Falk,” Elise said as she fixed a smile on her face, wished Falk would go away, and forced her head down so she could continue copy-editing the Gold Army accounts.
Elise loved her job as head of the Treasury Department. She loved numbers and finances. They always behaved as expected, and if something was wrong, the mistake could be traced. Furthermore, her position spoke volumes of the trust King Henrik placed in her. He might not love her enough to adopt her—only to claim her as the royal family’s foster child—but he had so much faith in her that he charged her with building and distributing Arcainia’s wealth.
However, on the days Prince Falk, one of her foster brothers, chose to visit her office to discuss the Agriculture Department’s accounts, Elise wished King Henrik had trusted someone else with the task.
“How long did it take you to complete the Agriculture Department’s audit?” Falk asked, turning a page.
“I can’t say I took note of it. May I inquire why the length of time would make a difference?” Elise asked.
“Don’t worry your pretty, little head, Fawn. I was only attempting to make polite conversation.”
Elise very much doubted this, but she let the matter go. “Of course.”
One of Elise’s secretaries stood in the open doorway and tapped on the wall to announce her presence “Fürstin,” she said, drawing Elise’s attention. For some reason beyond her understanding, Elise’s subordinates went through extraordinary efforts to use old titles of nobility whenever one of her foster brothers was around. Elise’s title of Fürstin was commonly translated to princess, but beyond signifying she was a child of royalty, it also meant she was the head of her family. As the royal family hadn’t adopted her, this meant she outranked all but her eldest foster brother, the crown prince.
“Fürstin,” the secretary repeated. “The Kronprinz is—,”
“I can announce myself, thank you. Elise, that bloated pig has gone too far. Hello, Falk,” Steffen, the crown prince, said as he edged his way into Elise’s office.
Elise folded her hands in her lap. “Who is a bloated pig?”
Steffen ran a hand through his hair, mussing it. The gesture gave away his frustration. Typically Steffen looked as perfect as the portrait of him that hung in the main gallery. Every piece of his blonde hair was always settled in place; his uniform was never crooked; and his eyes crinkled with the slight, perpetual smile he constantly wore. Now, his eyes were uncharacteristically narrowed as he snapped, “The prince of Loire.”
“Which prince?” Elise asked.
“The legitimate one. His father has asked us to give you over in marriage to that empty-headed buffoon.”
“Fürstin,” the secretary, who still hovered at the doorway, said. “Would you like me to call for refreshments?”
“Yes, please. Thank you, Gretta,” Elise said, rearranging her papers.
The secretary bobbed a curtsey and disappeared from view.
“Aren’t you offended?” Steffen asked, striking Elise’s desk with a rolled up paper.
“The buffoon to which you are referring is the heir to the throne of a country that is three to four times as large as our beloved Arcainia. No, I cannot say I am the least bit offended,” Elise said.
Falk, the stark opposite of his brother in resemblance and temperament, raised his eyebrows and said nothing.
“Aren’t you even surprised?” Steffen asked.
“From whom the offer originates, yes. As far as Loire knows, we are nothing but a small, powerless neighbor. It is unanticipated that Loire’s King would choose Prince Lucien’s bride—the future queen of Loire—to come from such a place,” Elise said, making a tally mark on some parchment. “Not to mention you hired an assassin guild to kill one of the princes. Even though the plan failed, they must know we financed the attempt. If they do not have proof right now, I imagine they will shortly—those Rangers the Loire princes play around with are just as good as Mikk’s sneaks.”
“But that is all that surprises you? I was shocked to receive the offer at all,” Steffen said, looking around for a chair. He stared at Falk, who was sitting in the only free chair in the room, perched near Elise.
Falk stared back at Steffen and made a shooing motion.
Steffen rolled his eyes and found a chair under a precariously balanced stack of books, which he set on the ground before making himself comfortable.
Elise cleared her throat after the interchange was over. “You think I am unmarriageable, Steffen? Or do you doubt anyone would want to marry the foster daughter of the King of Arcainia?”
“That’s not it at all. You’re a princess all the way through,” Steffen said, his lips reforming into the usual smile. “I merely think it is a little early for you to marry.”
Elise went back to her accounts. “I am 18, nearly 19. It is the right age for suitors to express interest,” she said, copying down numbers.
“You are ready to be married, then?”
“It is not so much that I am ready, but more that I cannot avoid the duty much longer. I have told Father as much.”
“You’ve spoken to Father about marriage?” Falk asked, straightening up in his chair.
“Briefly. I told him I would never forgive him if he married me off to someone poor.”
Steffen stared. “Why? You are not one to demand luxuries.”
“Indeed. But the north wall of the castle needs repairing, and it’s going to be costly. My suitor could pay for it as the bride price,” Elise said, dipping her quill into an inkwell of tar black ink. She paused. “Loire is a very rich country.”
“No,” Steffen said.
“No,” Falk repeated.
“I’ve already sent a refusal. It’s probably a ploy. Some of Mikk’s underc
over men heard more rumors of Prince Lucien’s warmongering. He’s still set on coming after us,” Steffen continued.
“And?”
“And what?”
“So what was the purpose of storming my office to inform me of this development? Since you have already sent a refusal on my behalf, I don’t have much to do with the matter,” Elise said.
“I wanted someone to complain to,” Steffen said.
“Gabrielle wouldn’t hear you out?” Falk asked, referring to Steffen’s wife, Princess Gabrielle.
“Gabi is gone for the day, and she took her dratted cat with her. Good riddance,” Steffen said. “So you would seriously consider marriage? Not to the Loire Pig Prince of course, but to a suitable candidate?”
Elise was spared from replying as her secretary, Gretta, arrived with the tea.
“Your refreshments, Fürstin,” Gretta said, setting a tray laden with a three-person tea set and various treats on an end table another secretary brought in.
“Thank you, Gretta,” Elise smiled.
The secretary gave Elise a dimpled smile before she left.
“Well?” Steffen asked.
Elise stood and set about serving tea, pouring it with elegance and poise. “I am a princess, Steffen. It is my duty as a member of this family—foster child or not—to marry for the betterment of our country. I have never shrunk away from my duties before, and I do not intend to start doing so now.”
“That’s our Perfect Princess,” Steffen said, repeating the court’s pet name for Elise.
“If you say so. Tea?”
“No, thank you. So, do you have anyone in mind for marriage?” Steffen asked.
Elise paused. “Perhaps,” she said, deliberately looking to her the door of her office. It opened into the Treasury Department’s headquarters, and directly across the hall from the Treasury Department was the Commerce Department. Mertein—the young noble who was casually courting her—worked there.
“Hm. Should have guessed. I must be going; I have a somewhat urgent correspondence I must see to,” Steffen said as he rocked to his feet. “But you two enjoy.”
“Were you pleasant when you refused the Loire Crown Prince?” Falk asked as he took the tea cup Elise offered him.
“Goodness, no,” Steffen said.
“Excellent,” Falk said.
“Be careful when playing with Loire, Steffen. That second prince is dangerous,” Elise said, pouring a cup of tea for herself.
“Prince Severin? He’s not a beast anymore, did you hear? He went off and fell in love with a merchant’s daughter. Broke the curse right off him.”
“Yes that’s why he’s even more dangerous now.”
“I agree. Take care, sister.”
“You as well, brother,” Elise watched Steffen leave with a fond smile. He was the only member of the royal family who had encouraged her from the day she was taken in as a foster child to refer to him as brother.
She loved him for his acceptance.
“I believe I found another error in my department’s accounts, Dove.”
Elise steeled herself to keep a grimace off her face. Steffen’s acceptance was more than she could say for some of her other foster brothers.
“Yes, Falk. Where is it?”
“Here. We grew several acres more of alfalfa hay than what is recorded. I apologize, but it might take me more than one day to finish inspecting these numbers.”
“Of course.”
“I will have to intrude upon you while I do so, of course. The Treasury Department records things differently than we do in the Agriculture Department.”
That would be just her luck. Elise bit her tongue to keep from snarling. “Of course,” she pleasantly said.
Two weeks later, Elise walked with her subordinates to the dining hall.
“Princess, would you look at the Carabas accounts after lunch? The master craftsman submitted their bid for the shipyard docks. I’m not certain they used the right dimensions, based on their estimates,” one bookkeeper asked.
“I would be happy to, Fritz. Thank you for so carefully recording the bids,” Elise said, tightening the red ribbon that held her unruly mess of curly, brown hair back in a ponytail.
“It’s my honor,” Fritz said. “Thank you, Princess.”
“Lisel, did the last payment for the college’s new astronomy lab clear the daily treasury?” Elise asked, craning her neck to look for the red-haired accountant in the herd of scholars that surrounded her.
“It did. It will dry the daily treasury for a time, but since we paid off our debts, we will no longer owe compounding interest. I suspect we’ll recover in a matter of weeks,” the accountant said, popping out in front of Elise.
“Perfect,” Elise said as her employees stopped at the dining hall entrance. “With that our—Yeek!” Elise squealed when someone grabbed her from behind and swept her into the air.
“Working too much as usual, Elise?” Elise’s captor chuckled, still holding her aloft.
“Rune,” Elise said, throwing her arms around the handsome man’s shoulders. “You’re back!”
“Yes. Steffen finally stopped handing out assignments and let me come home,” Rune said, tucking an arm behind Elise’s knees, so the black skirts of her work uniform cascaded from his hands.
“Good afternoon, Prince Rune,” Elise’s underlings chorused.
Rune gave the staff his most charming smile. “Good afternoon, Treasury Department. Do you mind if I steal your chief for this meal?”
“Of course not,” they said, bobbing in curtseys and bows before they took their leave. “Enjoy your lunch, Fürstin, Prinz.”
“You are still the number one idol and Treasury Department darling?” Rune asked, watching the scholars enter the dining hall.
“They value my mental calculation abilities. Could you put me down?” Elise asked.
“As you wish,” Rune said, setting Elise on her feet.
Elise fussed with her uniform—a simple but elegant black dress with white sleeves and gold trim—before she fixed the red sash that crossed her chest and cinched around her waist, signifying her position as the Treasury Department head.
“It’s good to see you. I didn’t know Steffen called you home,” Elise said, checking her low ponytail before smiling at her foster brother.
“It was rather sudden. He had something important he wanted to discuss with me,” Rune said.
Elise frowned. “Really?”
“It’s nothing for you to worry about,” Rune said with another one of his dazzling smiles.
“Ah, hero work.”
“Yes.”
As the middle child of seven brothers, and all of them deeply involved in Arcainia’s government, Rune was hailed as the heroic brother. He fit the image with his gold hair and dreamy hazel eyes. As Steffen liked to say, “You were made to be fawned over, so put your pretty face to good use and raise the public’s opinion of us!”
“How did your adventuring go?” Elise asked.
“Well enough. I trounced the ogre that set up camp in GlassGlow Forest, killed a sea serpent that was hindering restoration efforts at Carabas, took care of a chimera, and drove a few mountain hags back into Loire,” Rune said, offering his arm.
“I heard about the sea serpent. You did tidy work, from what I was told,” Elise said, tucking her hand in Rune’s elbow before they entered the busy dining hall.
Breakfast and lunch at Castle Brandis, the Arcainian palace, was a public affair. Soldiers, governmental staff members, servants, and nobility ate together in a massive dining hall that buzzed with conversation and gossip.
The tradition was scorned by some of the high-brow countries Arcainia shared borders with, like pompous Loire, but for a country as small as Arcainia, it provided an easy way of exchanging information and forming inter-department friendships.
“I’m not sure ‘tidy’ is the correct way to describe how I handled the situation. I killed a male sea serpent, but I am almost positive it had
a mate. We can only hope they didn’t have hatchinglings,” Rune frowned.
“Will you go out adventuring again, or are you here for the remainder of winter?” Elise asked as they strolled through the noisy hall.
“It depends on Steffen. I hope he will let me stay, but he may not have a choice if more monsters arrive,” Rune said.
“It seems like you have quelled more creatures and magical disturbances in the past few years than usual. You used to be able to spend all of winter with us in Castle Brandis,” Elise said.
“It is partially because Father and Steffen trust me enough to know I won’t break my neck, so they are able to send me out on more difficult missions that used to require the army. But there is some truth to your observations. There has been an increase in violent-minded creatures invading our borders,” Rune said. “I do not believe we are the only country encountering this phenomenon.”
“Have we sent word to the Veneno Conclave? As the rulers and regulators of all magic users and magic itself, I imagine they would have something to say about this subject,” Elise said.
“I requested that Steffen would do so. He gave the task to Erick—he has contacts with several enchanters and enchantresses,” Rune said, referring to one of his brothers.
“I see,” Elise said when they stopped at an empty table. She saw Mertein, who waved to her with a dimpled smile, sitting several tables away. Elise returned the smile and wave. She would have done more, but Rune interrupted her thoughts.
“We need to discuss Baron Ludwig von Drebkau,” Rune said, pulling out a chair for Elise before he seated himself.
“So you stopped by his manor then? What did he have to say for himself?” Elise asked, shifting all of her attention to Rune. She had spent months watching Baron Drebkau’s tax reports and comparing them with his public claims. They hadn’t matched up, which was usually a sign of illegal activities.
“He was illegally importing luxury goods and selling them in the black market, as well as evading taxes by lying about his income. He has been corrected,” Rune said. When he shifted, the sword strapped to his belt clanked ominously. “Is there anyone else you need me to speak to?”
