by Shea, K. M.
Elise looked at the swan, and the swan looked back at Elise.
“It’s not Prince Rune. He can barely control his swan self. Who else do you think would follow you around like that?” Brida asked.
Elise was genuinely starting to wish Brida wasn’t so free with her words as she looked away from the swan. She didn’t want to know which Arcainian Prince it was that sat with her for most of the day.
“I know we aren’t friends, and we haven’t been on the best of terms—which I regret,” Brida said. “What I mean is this: could you be satisfied with a Mertein when a man like Prince Falk or Prince Rune would give anything to have you?”
Elise scowled. Even if he had jilted her, Mertein was still a nice boy.
Brida waved her hand through the air. “Yes, your past sweetheart was the nicest sort of man. He didn’t have a temper—which is an admirable trait—and he cared for his family. But could you see him loving you so much he would follow you around all day as a big white bird? Would someone like Mertein be upset and disappointed with themselves ‘cause they can’t rescue you?”
Elise looked away from Brida’s prying eyes.
“Consider it, Fürstin,” Brida said, walking off.
Elise watched the captain go with wide eyes, wondering what had gotten in to her… although she did have a point. Elise looked at her swan companion, who was preening his feathers. Which prince was it that stayed with her all day long?
Chapter 9
It was unfortunate, but Prince Toril was back the day after Elise’s one-sided conversation with Brida.
“Please don’t blow your whistle,” he said, this time happening upon Elise as she knitted a few feet from the pond shore.
About half of the swans abandoned their usual pursuits and floated near Elise, watching Prince Toril with coal-colored eyes.
“Erm, yes. I remember I made an acquaintance with your swans last time, in addition to your bear-like maid,” Prince Toril said, jumping backwards when one of the swans hissed at him.
Elise stood and planted her hands on her hips so she could properly stare the prince down.
“I brought food this time,” Prince Toril said, holding a cloth bag. He reached inside to pluck out a loaf of bread.
Elise pinched the whistle between her lips but didn’t blow—Brida would be back shortly. She was exercising her horse at the moment. The bread was very tempting, since her arrival at the pond, Elise had lived on nothing but fish, berries, and whatever vegetation Falk found.
Prince Toril broke off an end. “Don’t you want some?” he coaxed, offering the piece to her.
Prince Toril did not strike Elise as being smart enough to poison and/or drug food, so she cautiously took the bread, inspecting it for any odd smells or colors worked into the dough.
“By the heavens, what have you done to your hands?!”
Elise almost dropped the bread in surprise. She glanced down at her hands, which Prince Toril stared at in morbid fascination, before tucking them behind her back.
Although Falk’s pastes and plants lessened the pain when Elise was not knitting, they did nothing to improve her hands’ appearance. Her long, slender fingers were marred and swollen—her nails broken and cracked. The tops and palms of her hands were covered in oozing welts, and the skin of her hands was tinted red—whether it was from the nettles or the constant pinpricks that leaked blood, Elise didn’t know.
“Has that bear-maid of yours been mistreating you?” Prince Toril demanded.
Elise shook her head and ate her first bite of bread before she motioned to her knitting materials.
Prince Toril briefly crouched and prodded the green, prickly shirt Elis was working on. “You’re knitting with nettles,” he said before hopping upright to avoid getting nipped by a swan. “Maybe Ludger was right. Are you crazy?”
Elise shrugged at Prince Toril, picked up her knitting, and walked further up shore with her flock of swan chaperones.
Prince Toril trekked around her for a few minutes, until Brida returned.
“You,” Brida said, narrowing her eyes as she slid from her horse’s back.
“Good day to you, madam. I have returned as promised, and I brought provisions,” Prince Toril said, holding the bag of food out in front of him.
Brida ignored the offering. “Has he been bothering you?” Brida asked Elise, sliding her sword out of its scabbard with an ominous swish.
Elise shook her head and held up the hunk of bread she still had left.
Brida took the bread and sniffed it before she handed it back to Elise. She frowned at Prince Toril. “Leave.”
“Madam,” Prince Toril protested. “I have come here to offer you sanctuary and protection. It is clear that the two of you are travel companions of a sort. But living in the wild is not safe for two innocent ladies.”
When Brida extended her sword at him, Prince Toril hastily added, “Even one as dangerous and well-armed as you.”
Brida sniffed in contempt.
“The invitation is genuine,” Prince Toril insisted. “But we are leaving tomorrow, so you shall have to make up your mind quickly.”
“We’re not leaving,” Brida said.
“These woods you live in belong to my father. He won’t suffer your presence very long,” Prince Toril said.
“The only way he’ll even know of our presence is if you or that big-mouthed hunter mention it,” Brida said.
“That may be so, but I still insist that you return home with me. Both of you will be very comfortable in the palace. You can go on knitting with prickly plants and… being prickly in general,” Prince Toril said.
“I think it is time for you to return home, Prince Toril.”
Prince Toril braved the swans to pass Brida the sack of food. “Very well, but please think about it. That is all I ask.”
“Oh, sure,” Brida dryly said. She muttered under her breath as Prince Toril hurried back into the forest. “Prancing do-gooder. We will mention it to your brothers tonight, Fürstin, but I can’t see them agreeing.”
“I think it’s a wonderful idea,” Steffen said.
Everyone turned to stare at him.
“Think about it for a moment,” Steffen said.
Erick reached for his missing glasses before he made do with rubbing his temple. “Elise would be safe, fed better, and given more comfortable quarters to work in. She’ll have Brida with her to talk on her behalf, too,” he listed.
“But everyone knows the King of Verglas is off his rocker,” Nick said.
“Verglas is the only country with an organized, accepted guild for assassins,” Mikk said, exhausting his supply of words for the day.
“She’ll be living with a madman,” Nick said.
“Wouldn’t that bring less attention to her actions, though?” Gerhart asked, sitting next to Elise. He blanched and turned to her. “No offense; it’s not like you want to do this.”
Elise smiled. “I know what you mean. If the king really is mad, the people will not think my knitting is at all noteworthy.”
“Madmen are unpredictable,” Falk said, his voice chilly with disapproval.
“Prince Dimwit doesn’t know Elise is the princess of Arcainia. He isn’t going to invite her to the royal table or anything. In fact, I would say it is safe to assume that Elise will never see King Torgen,” Steffen said.
“We’re gambling that Elise will be safe in the palace of a tyrant. King Torgen is not known for his kindness. It isn’t safe there,” Rune said.
“It isn’t safe for her out here, either,” Steffen snapped. “I don’t revel in the idea, but if she’s separated from Brida, Elise is an easy mark for anyone.”
“We could protect her,” Rune said.
“We’re swans, in case you’ve forgotten,” Steffen said.
“We have been unusually lucky that no one has discovered Elise before now,” Erick acknowledged.
“I believe I have done a suitable job of protecting Princess Elise since my arrival,” Brida st
iffly said.
“Of course you have,” Nick said, quick to defend her.
“Brida has done a fantastic job,” Elise said, “But there is truth in what Steffen says. I have no defensive skills. I could rip a country to shreds or build it up to the sky if I had access to its treasury, but I am not learned in any kind of weapon.”
“You want to go with Prince Toril?” Rune asked, looking as betrayed as if she had stabbed him in the gut.
“No. Truthfully I don’t know which option is better. I am merely acknowledging my limitations,” Elise said.
“Elise should stay here,” Rune said. “Only Erick and possibly Gerhart are siding with you, Steffen. We have no real reason to move Elise.”
Brida shifted uncomfortably on the log she sat on.
Falk flicked his eyes in her direction. “What?”
“Prince Steffen may be right,” Brida slowly acknowledged.
“Why?” Mikk asked.
Brida rearranged the stack of firewood placed next to her before she replied. “Soldiers from Arcainia have been dispatched to find Fürstin Elise.”
“What?” Nick yelped. “How?”
“How do you know,” Mikk asked, his eyebrows sinking over his eyes.
Brida bit her lip.
“Captain Meier,” Mikk said.
“I met one of the squad captains while exercising my horse today.”
“And you didn’t think to tell us before now?” Rune demanded.
Brida winced but did not defend herself. “None of Arcainia’s soldiers would willingly look for Fürstin, much less bring her back to Arcainia, but Clotilde smartened up. She sent a squad of soldiers only after she took their families captive.”
“And this fellow captain just volunteered this information? You don’t find that suspicious?” Falk scoffed.
“The captain said he trusted no harm would come to the families—before his squad left, Princess Gabrielle contacted him to let him she would free Clotilde’s civilian captives. They aren’t really looking for Fürstin Elise,” Brida said.
Steffen sniffed. “At least Gabi is managing to do something useful,” he scoffed.
“But?” Mikk prodded Brida.
Brida looked at the ground. “But the captain expected soon Clotilde would send forth a squad who would eagerly search out Fürstin. Apparently she has been working her magic arts on a few soldiers, and they are just as besotted with her as King Henrik is.”
“Well, that changes everything,” Erick said.
Nick cracked his knuckles. “Elise will have to go with Toril.”
Mikk nodded.
“Maybe we could follow Prince Toril and ditch him at the outskirts of a large city,” Elise said.
Steffen scowled. “No, it won’t work out well. By inviting us to the palace, he will place us under his protection, and as scant as that protection is, even besotted soldiers would think twice before dragging you back home. Besides, we do have a grip on Verglas, should we need to use it.”
“A grip?” Gerhart said.
“Two years ago, I bought a large portion of Verglas’s governmental debt,” Elise said. “We could force their good behavior by making the debt due. All the same, I would like to avoid such a confrontation. It would be easy enough to silence us as we are in their country.”
“I still don’t like it,” Rune said.
“Of course you don’t. We’re leading Elise into the den of a man who could very well be a marriage prospect,” Steffen said.
“You and I would die before we handed her over to that idiot,” Rune declared.
“As we keep pondering, Verglas does have a legal assassin guild,” Falk smiled.
“I am not excited about it either, but Elise’s safety is our top priority,” Steffen said.
“So is everyone in agreement, then? Elise and Brida should accept Prince Toril’s invitation?” Erick asked.
Six reluctant males chimed in.
“Aye.”
“Yes.”
“Yeah.”
“If she must.”
“Agreed.”
“Yep.”
“So it is settled. When Price Toril returns, Brida will tell him they accept his offer,” Erick said.
“Provided she can bring us with,” Gerhart was quick to add.
“Very well,” Brida said.
“In that case, we need to start packing Elise up,” Rune said, heading for her shelter.
“We must also plan out acceptable behavior,” Erick said.
“Erick is right. Captain Meier, Elise, you cannot let anyone find out who you are. Do you understand? If King Torgen realizes he has the beloved princess of Arcainia in his clutches, there is no telling what he will do,” Steffen said.
“Yes, brother.”
“Yes, Prince Steffen.”
Brida and Elise were ready for Prince Toril when he showed up the following day.
“Good morning to you, madams. I trust you slept well? Yes?” he answered himself when Brida stonily stared at him and did not deign to give him a response. “Have you thought about my offer?”
“We have. We will come.”
“I must beg you to reconsider for it is not safe—wait, you will come?” Prince Toril said.
“Yes,” Brida said.
Prince Toril clapped his hands together. “That is wonderful news indeed. I am glad you see the sense in my plan. When will you be ready to leave?”
“Now.”
“Now?” Prince Toril repeated.
“Yes. The horses are saddled, and the birds are ready.”
“The birds?”
“Do you have a problem understanding the words I am saying? Why must you repeat them? Yes, the birds. We could not possibly travel without her swans,” Brida said, nodding at Elise.
“Oh. Of course,” Prince Toril weakly said as he looked past Elise where her brothers were flocked together on shore, waiting to take off until Elise climbed in the saddle and started the journey.
“So… may we depart?” Brida asked after a minute of silence.
Prince Toril’s smile was back. “Yes, of course. My horse is just past these trees,” he said, heading back into the trees.
Brida mounted up her horse, and Elise took up the lead rope of Falk’s horse—who was laden with nettles, Elise’s finished shirts, and various plants Falk had plucked the night before for medicinal purposes.
“We will travel with a few other men—soldiers and hunters who accompanied me. There are only five of them, so there is no need to be afraid. Aren’t you going to ride?” Prince Toril said when he came back—riding a splendid-looking horse.
Elise shook her head.
“You could ride behind me if your mount is otherwise burdened,” Prince Toril said, glancing at Falk’s horse. “You are a slight thing; my horse will hardly notice your extra weight.”
Elise shook her head again, but Prince Toril wasn’t about to take no for an answer.
“You cannot walk to Ostfold. It’s too far. My horse has very soothing gaits, I promise you,” Prince Toril said, grabbing Elise by her forearm.
Elise looked to Brida who shrugged. “He has a point.”
Elise frowned, but scrambled up behind Prince Toril.
“There, this isn’t so bad, is it—oof,” he said when Elise lodged her arms around his stomach so tightly she squeezed air from him. “Nothing to fear,” Prince Toril wheezed.
The prince led the way, leaving Brida to pony up Falk’s horse before bringing up the rear. The Arcainian Princes hissed and bumped one another before they took off, circling overhead as Prince Toril led them through the forest.
Within several minutes, they met up with the rest of Prince Toril’s party and set off for Ostfold, the capital of Verglas.
“So, where do you come from?” Prince Toril asked. He spoke at a volume that made Elise think he was talking to her, but Brida answered for her.
“Loire,” she lied.
Prince Toril nodded. “And what are your names?”
/> “I am Brenda. She’s Elsa,” Brida said.
“What brought you to Verglas?”
“We live in a border town. Elsa’s remaining kin died, and the villagers never liked that she couldn’t talk, so they ran her off.”
“And you?”
“I’m her friend; I couldn’t let her go alone.”
As Brida and Prince Toril chatted, Elise studied the men traveling with them.
They had the look and air of Verglas to them—meaning they were sturdy and tough like their Verglas-bred horses, but they smiled kindly, and Elise’s unnatural silence did not seem to bother them.
When they reached a road, Elise looked up and, through the breaks in the trees, could spy a flock of white swans flying.
Going to Ostfold was a frightening prospect, but with Brida behind her and her foster family above her, Elise thought everything would be alright.
Ostfold was not what Elise expected.
Unlike Brandis, which was all stone, most of Ostfold was built out of wood. Each building had a slanted roof and pointed turrets, and every window had painted shutters. The buildings were beautiful and in perfect condition—each house seemed to have a fresh coat of paint on it, and beautiful wood carvings could be found in every nook and cranny of even the lowliest building.
“Don’t you worry about fires?” Brida asked as they rode through Ostfold—which was about the size of one of Arcainia’s medium-sized cities.
“No. Why would we?” Prince Toril blinked.
Brida and Elise exchanged glances as they rode on, heading for the royal palace.
The royal palace was smaller than Elise pictured. The Sole Ambassador mocked Castle Brandis for its size, but the Ostfold palace was only half the size of Brandis. The Verglas Royal Palace also had a significantly different style of architecture than the traditional castle. Instead of solid lines and a smooth roof, every part of the castle jutted up into triangular cut outs, like fat stalagmites of ice. There was only one tower in the castle, and it was tall and skinny and shaped like a well-sharpened pencil.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Prince Toril asked.
Elise found herself nodding. Although Ostfold and the palace weren’t as beautiful to her as Castle Brandis, it did have an exotic sort of beauty, and Elise admired all the triangles and straight lines.
