The Wild Swans

by Shea, K. M.

  Mikk, the older, more serious, and less talkative of the twins, ignored Nick. “Will you return after killing it?”

  “I plan to stay at Carabas for a few days. I mean to make sure there were no hatchinglings. Is there something you want me to look into?” Rune asked.

  “No,” Mikk said.

  “Have you two talked to Father recently?” Nick asked, folding his arms across his massive chest.

  “Yes,” Elise said.

  “Did he seem a little odd?” Nick asked.

  “What do you mean by odd?” Rune asked.

  “Acting out of character, staring blankly into space, being easily distracted, things like that. Right, Mikk?” Nick said.

  “Yes,” Mikk said, a stony frown etched on his lips as he stared Elise down.

  Elise resisted the urge to squirm under Mikk’s rocky stare. She never felt that Mikk disliked her, as Falk and Gerhart seemed to, but she suspected she did not measure up to his expectations, and he seemed to vaguely disapprove of her. Whenever she was with him, there was an extra layer of pressure in the air.

  “Perhaps, yes,” Elise said. “The past few times I have spoken to him, he has been distracted. I usually have to make a loud noise to get his attention.”

  “You think something is wrong?” Rune asked.

  “We’re not certain. Our line of business tends to breed paranoia, but it’s always best to be on your toes,” Nick said, tapping his broken nose.

  Elise and the royal siblings grimly stared at each other, but the seriousness of the moment was broken by a peal of tittering laughter that echoed up the stairwell.

  “You wound me, My Lady, with your laughter. I am serious!”

  “But you cannot be.”

  “But I am. I would positively perish if not for seeing your bright smile every day, Lady Meinhilde.”

  “Prince Gerhart, you are too charming!”

  “Please, call me Hart.”

  The male flirt was the youngest of the royal siblings, Prince Gerhart. He was an angel-faced teenager with curly hair and deceptively innocent eyes. He pushed and peddled his charms as part of his training for his future with the Foreign Affairs Department.

  “Prince Gerhart, I could never take such liberties.”

  “Even when I beg you to? I would be delighted to hear my nickname uttered by such sweet lips.”

  Elise shook her head as Mikk’s lips flattened in great disapproval. Nick, however, took action. He leaned over the banister and called in a loud yodel, “Gerhie! There you are, you naughty boy. Come up and wish your big brother Rune goodbye. He’s leaving, you know. Gerhie! Why won’t you look at me?”

  Elise and Rune stifled laughter as they watched their younger brother’s expression change from sophistication to mortification.

  Gerhart bowed and made an excuse to his female companion before bounding up the stairs, taking them two at a time. “Was that necessary?” he snarled.

  “Of course it was, Gerhie. You wouldn’t want to miss saying farewell to your dashing, heroic brother. Would you?” Nick asked, batting his eyelashes—a ridiculous gesture given his girth and size.

  “Don’t call me Gerhie!” Gerhart said.

  “Temper, temper. If you don’t learn to control your emotions, you’ll never be as popular with the ladies as Rune is,” Nick said.

  Gerhart plunged his hands into his thick hair as if he wanted to pull it out of his scalp. He jumped when Rune placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “Take care, Gerhart.”

  “You’re really leaving then?” Gerhart asked.

  “I am.”

  “Good. I’ll return to being number one in the social scene,” Gerhart nodded.

  “Only if the black horse doesn’t rear his head,” Nick said.

  “Falk is antisocial. He has admirers, but I am liked by all,” Gerhart said, puffing up his chest.

  “True, you and the Perfect Princess are the court darlings,” Nick said, ruffling Gerhart’s hair.

  “Get off! And I am certainly above Elise’s level of popularity,” Gerhart said, disdain dripping from his words.

  “Spoiled brat,” Mikk said.

  “Am not,” Gerhart said, folding his arms.

  “I’m off. I need to leave or I won’t make it to Carabas by dark. Brothers, take care. Elise, don’t overwork yourself,” Rune said, hugging Elise.

  “Goodbye, Rune,” Elise and her foster brothers chorused as Rune trotted down the stairs, heading for the entrance of Castle Brandis where his horse waited.

  “That was touching. So, who is up for a round of cards?” Nick asked.

  “I must return to my office and finish copy-editing the Black Army’s accounts. Aren’t you supposed to be making inspections today, Nick?” Elise asked.

  “Rats. Fine. Let’s go terrorize some recruits, Mikk. What-ho!” Nick said before leaving as abruptly as he arrived, his twin moving in his shadow.

  “Do you have plans for the afternoon, Hart?” Elise asked.

  Gerhart tipped his chin up. “Hmph,” he said, a high pitched noise exhaled from his nose. He turned on his heels and went back down the stairs.

  Elise sighed as she watched the young prince go before she smoothed the black skirts of her work uniform and set out as well.

  Elise was last to arrive to the royal family dinner some weeks later—or the second to last, as it were. “Where is Father?” Elise asked.

  “Dunno,” Nick said.

  Princess Gabrielle, Steffen’s beautiful wife, further explained. “Good evening, Elise. King Henrik should be along shortly. He sent a note ahead of him; he is bringing a guest.”

  “I see,” Elise said, heading for her usual chair between Nick and Falk. When sitting by age, as the Arcainia Royalty tended to do for formal occasions, Elise sat between Falk and Gerhart. However, the youngest prince gave Elise dirty looks and would ignore her for the duration of the meal if she tried to sit near him at a time when it was not required.

  As Steffen and Gabrielle were seated next to the King, Elise usually chose to sit with her friendliest brother, Nick, when Rune or her remaining foster brother, the intellectually minded Erick, were not present.

  “Hey there, Perfect Princess. Sit on down and join in the fun,” Nick said, pushing Elise’s chair out for her.

  “Thank you,” Elise said.

  “Does anyone know who this mysterious guest is?” Nick asked, turning back to his siblings once Elise was seated.

  “I have not heard of any visiting dignitaries,” Falk said, rubbing a lock of his stick straight hair between his fingers.

  “No one new has entered Castle Brandis,” Mikk said.

  “Father hasn’t been meeting specifically with any family of nobility,” Gerhart said. “No one’s been trying to squirrel their way into our good graces either—well, no more so than usual.”

  “It seems odd that he would invite a guest to a family dinner,” Princess Gabrielle said.

  “If his counselors are going to join us, he tells us several days in advance. This was very sudden,” Steffen said.

  Nick nudged Elise. “Has he said anything to you, Elise? After Steffen and Gabi you see him the most.”

  Elise shook her head. “For the past week, he has spoken little with me, except…”

  “Yes?” Mikk said, leaning forward so he could peer past his twin and stamp Elise with one of his heavy gazes.

  “He has taken a sudden interest in Arcainia’s gross income and wealth,” Elise said.

  Gerhart snorted. “He’s King. It’s not odd that he should be concerned with his country’s finances.”

  “Yes, of course. But he’s requested a number of reports. He wants to know on a daily basis what the accumulated wealth is. Previously, he would ask for estimates. Now he wants specifics,” Elise said.

  Mikk tapped the table with a spoon as he thought.

  “Perhaps it is time that we more closely watch Father,” Steffen said.

  Nick nodded, looking like Mikk in his seriousness. />
  Before any of the other siblings could respond, the doors banged open, and King Henrik entered the private dining room with a tall, regal woman.

  “Children, allow me to introduce you to Lady Clotilde,” King Henrik said, approaching the table.

  Elise and her foster siblings stood, inclining their heads in deference to their father.

  Elise studied Lady Clotilde under her eyelashes. The woman was almost as tall as most of Elise’s foster brothers. Her shoulders were wide, but she walked with an air of self-assurance few ladies of Arcainia could muster. Although she was King Henrik’s guest, she wasn’t more than a year or two older than Steffen. She was fair haired and had light blue eyes that were almost colorless. She was pleasing to look at, but she gave off the same sort of sharp beauty as a crow or a bird of prey.

  King Henrik smiled widely as he escorted his companion to the table, seating her in the empty seat next to his.

  “Lady Clotilde, may I introduce you to my children: Kronprinz Steffen and his wife Prinzessin Gabrielle, Prinz Mikkael, Prinz Nickolas, Prinz Falk, Prinz Gerhart, and Fürstin Elise,” King Henrik said before he too sat.

  The introduction bothered Elise. Whenever King Henrik introduced his family he usually waxed poetry over them for a bit and called them by their first name. Never before had King Henrik introduced her in an informal occasion as Fürstin.

  The twins exchanged a sort of secret glance between them, and although Steffen and Gabrielle wore their usual serene expressions, Elise was certain they exchanged some sort of signal because they did not look at each other.

  Elise looked to Falk, whose eyebrows lowered over his piercing brown eyes. Gerhart was unsettled. Elise knew this because he did not ooze charm and instead sipped wine from a goblet, hiding his lower face as he studied his father’s companion.

  “It is our pleasure to meet you, Lady Clotilde,” Gabrielle said, speaking on behalf of the king’s shocked children.

  “Thank you,” Lady Clotilde said with a deep, throaty voice. She spared Elise and her foster siblings a glance but focused most of her attention on King Henrik, Steffen, and Gabrielle. “I am delighted to be here.”

  “I met Lady Clotilde in the woods not far from Brandis. She lives there in a charming house,” King Henrik volunteered. “I have visited her many times during these winter months. She has become a dear companion.”

  “You are too kind, My Lord,” Lady Clotilde said as the servants started bringing in trays of food and setting them down on the table.

  Elise and her family immediately began helping themselves to the food, selecting sliced apples, stewed carrots, parsnips, and cuts of beef and pork.

  Only Lady Clotilde did not reach for a dish or food of any sort. Instead, she frowned. “Why do the servants not serve you?”

  “Why should they? We’ve got perfectly capable arms,” Nick said.

  “We generally dine with informality. Times of serving are restricted only to dinners involving politics, visiting monarchs, and matters of the country,” King Henrik said, patting Lady Clotilde’s arm.

  “You should change that. It’s not proper,” Lady Clotilde said.

  “If you wish, my dear; you may change it later.” King Henrik said.

  Falk straightened up. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Ahh, yes. That brings me to the news I wish to share with all of you. I have asked Lady Clotilde to marry me, and she has consented,” King Henrik said.

  Elise choked on her apple slice; Nick spewed out the mouthful of beer he was in the process of drinking, and Mikk—who was cutting his beef—made his pewter plate shriek when his knife slide across the surface. Gerhart dropped the gravy bowl he was passing to Falk, spilling gravy everywhere and making a tremendously loud crack. The noise was eclipsed, though, by a servant who was in the process of bringing in a meat jelly and dropped the pan in surprise at the proclamation.

  Only Falk, Steffen, and Gabrielle were composed.

  Steffen’s eyes still crinkled in his perpetual smile. “You are to wed? You have our congratulations, as well as our deepest sorrow that Father did not think to introduce you to us sooner, Lady Clotilde,” Steffen said.

  “When do you plan to hold the marriage?” Gabrielle asked.

  “The first of spring,” King Henrik said.

  “In a month? Are you mad?” Gerhart yelped.

  Falk kicked Gerhart under the table after Mikk nodded at him.

  “That is a brief courtship,” Gabrielle tactfully acknowledged.

  “I want you children to warmly welcome Lady Clotilde into our family,” King Henrik continued, unaffected by Gerhart’s remarks. “Love her and treat her as you would your own Mother, for she is to replace her and eclipse her in your hearts.”

  Silence reigned over the table.

  Elise and her siblings stared at their father, stricken more by this proclamation than by King Henrik’s sudden intent to marry. Queen Ingrid was the family treasure. Although the Arcainian royal family was closer than most ruling families, there was tension between them. Queen Ingrid was the one person who was able to pull them together, regardless of the situation.

  She could never be replaced.

  The stubborn stillness betrayed the royal family’s thoughts over King Henrik’s bride, and King Henrik grew stormy in the open sign of rebellion. His frown turned into a scowl as his children remained silent.

  Sensing the mounting pressure, Elise stood. She walked to Lady Clotilde’s seat and folded herself in an ornamental curtsey. “I welcome you to our family, Lady Clotilde. I look forward to learning more about you, and I hope you will enjoy your new life here in Castle Brandis,” Elise said.

  One by one, the other royal siblings stood and joined Elise in front of Lady Clotilde, bowing or curtsying to her.

  “Brown-noser,” Gerhart whispered to Elise.

  “Nothing good will come of angering father and alienating his bride,” Elise said.

  “Of course you would know that,” Gerhart said before he threw himself back in his seat, angrily mixing his jellied meat with his mashed potatoes.

  “Mikk, send for Erick and Rune, now,” Steffen whispered behind a frozen smile before he retreated to his chair.

  “Welcome to the family, Lady Clotilde. If you will excuse me, Father, Lady Clotilde,” Mikk said. He left the room when King Henrik acknowledged him with a hand.

  “Of course, my boy. Go ahead.”

  When everyone was seated, Nick leaned back, using Elise as a physical barrier so he could whisper to Falk, “I guess we should have started watching him closer months ago.”

  “So it would seem,” Falk said.

  “So it would seem,” Elise echoed.

  Elise watched a number of Arcainian subjects throw handfuls of uncooked rice and seeds at King Henrik and Lady—now Queen—Clotilde’s open top carriage. They waved banners and flags of Arcainian colors—black and gold—that were embroidered with the country’s symbol, a white swan.

  Having witnessed the marriage, Elise and her siblings were following on horseback and in carriages as part of the marriage procession that wove through the city before returning to Castle Brandis for the wedding feast.

  “You don’t know what to make of the new queen, do you?”

  Elise glanced Erick, the last of her foster brothers to arrive to the wedding. He was seated in the carriage with her and Gerhart. Steffen and Gabrielle were in their own open-top carriage just behind King Henrik and Queen Clotilde’s, and the rest of the Arcainian princes were riding.

  Elise hesitated, trying to find polite words to describe the feeling Clotilde gave her.

  “You find her unsettling,” Erick said.

  Elise winced. She glanced at the crowds, but no one noticed the serious discussion held between Elise and Erick. (Who would, after all, with all the handsome princes of Arcainia being aired out at the same time?) “Yes,” she admitted.

  Erick smiled. “So do I.”

  “There’s something about her. It’s not the way she
looks, or that she has said anything unpleasant. She looks at everything as if looking forward to the day that it is hers,” Elise said.

  “Indeed, why else would she marry a man nearly twice her age?” Erick said.

  “Erick!” Elise said.

  It was a good thing Gerhart was in the carriage with them. He smiled and waved so beautifully at the crowds no one was likely to notice Elise’s shock.

  Erick smiled again. “Tis true,” he said before his eyes lost the sparkle of his smile. “She feels likes magic.”

  “In Arcainia? That cannot be,” Elise said.

  “I have met quite a few enchanters and enchantresses at the Arcainian Royal College. I know what magic feels like, and Clotilde has it,” Erick said.

  “But magic is outlawed here. It has been since Father married Mother,” Elise said.

  “No, performing magic is against the law. Any magic user can enter Arcainia’s borders,” Erick countered.

  Elise looked to the carriage King Henrik and Queen Clotilde rode in. The new queen was smiling. It was a thin, brittle gesture, and although she looked beautiful, she did not look particularly happy.

  “What do we do?” Elise asked.

  “What we’ve been doing. I’m reaching out to some of my contacts. If we can get a high-level magic user here, they could at least tell us if Clotilde is something to worry about or not,” Erick says.

  “You are going back to the college?”

  “For now. I am the chancellor; I cannot abandon it. However, I will return home more often. Rune will remain here at least through the spring and summer. By then, a magic user should arrive,” Erick said.

  Elise nodded.

  “You will have to keep being the Perfect Princess,” Erick said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Father isn’t happy with our reaction to his marriage. From what Steffen tells me, only you and Gabrielle reacted with any decorum. You are still in his good graces. You must stay there,” Erick said.

  Elise offered Erick a weary smile. “Isn’t that my job already?”

  Erick chuckled as the carriage rolled to a stop in front of Brandis. “And that is why the country treasures you.”

  Elise squared her shoulders before she stepped down from the carriage with Erick’s assistance.