Did Nicholas’s determination to find out her secret have to do with his own secrets? Or was he merely trying to turn her into another one of his conquests?
Elaina’s head hurt by the time her carriage reached town. Though she had her guard—a gift from the king to her father at his behest—she now usually left him at the house when she went out. She’d grown familiar enough with her quarter of the city to know where she was going, and as many of the activities her aunt deemed proper involved sitting in the house, Elaina tried to walk as much as possible, slipping out while her relatives’ backs were turned.
Today was especially nice for walking, so she left her carriage and its driver to rest just outside the square and continued into the market alone. Though the nippy air of autumn had indeed come, this late morning was deliciously warm. So much so that Elaina decided to tarry a little in the market shops and stalls. She had just ventured into a little shop that sold candles when she heard a familiar voice behind her.
“Elaina!”
“Lydia!” Elaina turned and smiled. “What a nice surprise.”
“I thought you were meeting with the prince this morning.” Lydia’s mouth turned down just a hair.
“I was going to, but his tutor and I gave up waiting when he was twenty minutes late.”
“Oh, that’s a shame.” But really, Lydia didn’t sound as though it were a shame at all.
Elaina hurried to change the subject. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh.” Lydia wrinkled her nose daintily and adjusted her sun hat. “Mother gets headaches from tallow candles. She needs the ones made of beeswax, so I was sent out to get some fresh air and fetch some for her on the way.”
Elaina decided not to comment on Lydia’s need for fresh air. Since the queen’s tea, Lydia had hardly left the house. The bubbly, giddy girl that had greeted Elaina on her first day in the capital had never reappeared.
“After this, would you like to go to the ribbon shop with me?” Elaina asked instead.
“Of course. What for?”
Elaina gave her a sly smile. “I noticed Lord Devon eyeing you in that lavender gown at supper the other night. I thought I might get you a matching ribbon for when we see his family at the carnival.”
“Really?” Lydia rummaged through a stack of candlesticks, but refused to meet Elaina’s eye. “That’s very thoughtful of you.”
Elaina sighed. She, like her aunt, was running out of ideas.
As soon as they had chosen and paid for the candlesticks, Elaina and Lydia crossed the street to a slightly larger shop. Inside hung ribbons of all widths and colors. They fluttered as the girls opened and closed the door.
“So what do you and Nicholas do at your little rendezvous?” Lydia asked a touch too nonchalantly as they began perusing the ribbons.
Elaina headed straight for the purple section. “I think our lessons could be called anything except rendezvous. They’re nothing intimate, if that’s what you mean. We discuss military strategy and organization. I mostly argue with his tutor, Master Dustin.”
Lydia arched one perfect blonde eyebrow and peeked out from behind the green section. “You mean to say you spend two hours a day, six days a week talking about ships?”
“That is exactly what we do. Now come here and hold still.” When Lydia did as she asked, Elaina held up two ribbons against her hair. “Hm, I think this one. But this one here might be a shade closer to your dress. What do you think?”
“I think you’re telling me a falsehood.”
Elaina huffed and tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling. “You can ask Master Dustin. That is really all we do, I promise.” She looked warily at her cousin. “Truly, are you bothered so much by these lessons?”
Lydia’s eyes tightened.
Elaina put her ribbons down and took Lydia gently by the shoulders. “I swear. I am only there because the prince insists upon it. Look, I wouldn’t attend if it were up to me. You saw him summon me.”
Lydia went back to looking at ribbons, moving to the yellow silks this time. “You are right. I’m sorry. I only . . . I only loathe the idea of seeing you hurt.” She twisted a long blonde curl in her left hand. “I was foolish enough to believe he cared for me. But really, who can blame me? I mean, he’s always been rather quick to move between his girls, but he spent three months favoring me. Three months, Elaina.”
Elaina could only watch, her heart heavy.
“All that time he favored me, sought me out before all the others. And then the moment you showed up, all of that attention was gone. It was as if we had only ever been old acquaintances.” Lydia held a ribbon up only to discard it. “I’ll admit, I was horribly angry with you. I knew it wasn’t your fault, of course. But seeing you with him, being drawn in just as quickly as I had been drawn in . . . it hurt.”
“What changed your mind?”
“Clover Belgrad. As soon as he left his new toy for an even newer one, I knew it wasn’t your fault.” She peeked wanly up at Elaina. “I suppose I was also a bit jealous at just how quickly you were able to recover. And . . . how well you were able to push back.”
Elaina chuckled. “My tongue is quick, but it will get me in deep trouble one day. Or so my father says. And,” she stared hard at the two ribbons she was still holding, “I suppose I was a bit resentful of the fact that he had only been enamored for a day. I mean, he’s still with her if that makes you feel any better. Apparently, I can’t hold a candle to Clover Belgrad.”
Lydia’s eyes went wide. “Oh, I’m afraid you very well can hold a candle to Clover. Have you seen the way he looks at you even when we’re in public?”
Of course Elaina had seen it. That look of hawkish interest never failed to appear at some point whenever they met at palace events or crossed paths when calling on friends.
“I’m afraid the prince is more interested in pursuing you than ever,” Lydia said solemnly. “You’ve proven to be a worthy opponent. And if there’s one thing the prince likes, it’s a battle.”
That night, as Elaina prepared for bed, she continued to hear Lydia’s words echo in her mind.
“I believe she means well,” she told the stars as she pushed open her heavy window. “But I can’t help the feeling that she’s still more than a little jealous as well.”
She is. But is there truly anything you can do about that?
“No, there really isn’t.”
What was it her father often said? There are often two sides to people. There’s the side they want others to see and the side they wish wasn’t there at all.
“I am, however,” Elaina continued to the stars, “going to do my best to appear as unattached to him as possible.
He might make that difficult. The farther you step back, the closer he comes.
“I know. But I like Lydia. I’ve never had a good friend like her . . . not a female one, anyway. Besides, it shouldn’t be hard to convince her in time.” She paused. “You wouldn’t be able to tell me what he’s hiding, though, would you?”
We see only what the Maker shows us. Now go to bed, Elaina.
Elaina obeyed and bid the stars a weary good night. But as she drifted off to sleep, she made two resolutions.
First, she would find out what the prince was hiding.
Second, she would convince Lydia that she was not in love with the prince. And she wouldn’t even have to pretend, for there was nothing to pretend about.
13
I Don’t Cry
“Winter is such an odd time for a carnival to come to town.” Elaina looked doubtfully at the dusting of sugary snow that covered the dozens of lines of merchant tents.
“Winter came early this year,” Lydia said after daintily licking her candied apple. “Usually autumn is at its peak at this time. Here, eat your apple before it falls off your stick.”
“This is exciting, of course,” Elaina said as she looked out at the hundreds of merchants and vendors that were calling out their wares, “but what exactly is the carnival’s purpose?”
/> “About ten years ago, King Xander invited merchants, peddlers, performers, any tradesman that could travel to make money, really, and offered to pay their travel expenses. Winter is a poorer time for many, so he wanted a way to boost trade one last time before the slow part of winter came.” Lydia shrugged, her green gown glistening even in the dull light of the cloudy day. “We’ve had it every year since. I think it was a brilliant idea.”
“I have to agree.”
Despite the white powder that coated everything, including the little boys that dashed past everyone and kicked up mud, Elaina found herself enjoying the carnival immensely. Nicholas had given her the day off from lessons, more so that he could attend the carnival, she suspected, than out of generosity to her, but that didn’t really matter. In the two weeks since her discussion with Lydia in the ribbon store, she and Lydia had found themselves quite inseparable. Though she wouldn’t trade her years at sea for anything, Elaina did wish she’d had the chance to enjoy the benefits of female companionship years sooner.
“How are your lessons with Prince Nicholas faring?” Aunt Charlotte asked. Their little trio paused to watch a man grow a flower by simply planting a seed and staring at the ground. As the crowd surrounding him clapped and cheered, Elaina found herself slightly envious. He didn’t have to hide his talent so meticulously.
“Well, I suppose. His tutor doesn’t resent me quite as much as he did at first, although we still argue at least half of every lesson. Oh, let us go look at that vendor. I should like to have some raspberry bushes in the garden next year.”
“But how does the prince treat such lessons?” her aunt pressed. “Surely he appreciates the sacrifice of time you’re making to give him such treatment.”
Elaina groaned inwardly. One glance at Lydia’s pale face was warning enough to tread carefully. “I think he enjoys seeing the debates as much as he does learning about ships.”
“But is the prince—”
“He’s a quick learner, though. And quite dedicated to ensuring the navy has all it needs. Oh, Lydia! Look at those reticules! Let us go see them.”
As her cousin escorted her over to the merchant selling the reticules, Elaina breathed a sigh of relief. She hoped her aunt found her answer satisfactory and would allow her leave from any further discussion. Saying that the prince was a quick learner was an understatement. When he wasn’t being impertinent, Nicholas was forever surprising her with new ways to consider strategy, and his appetite to learn was voracious. Getting his mouth to stop, of course, was the real trick.
But Lydia needed to know none of that.
Somewhere along the way, they lost her aunt to an old friend, so Lydia and Elaina continued on together. But their solitude couldn’t last. Just as they rounded a corner to look at a cart selling unusually colored bottles of ink, Elaina found herself face-to-face with the prince.
Lydia’s predicament was even worse. She was nose-to-nose with Clover’s recent replacement, some girl from Vaksam who was distantly related to Willard Appleby. Behind the prince and his newest arm decoration stood a collection of young men and women.
“Elaina!” The prince looked much too delighted.
“Sire.”
“Please, I’ve asked you to call me Nicholas.”
“And I’ve told you that sire will do quite nicely.”
Nicholas rolled his eyes and smiled down at the girl on his arm. “You see what my subjects think of me? This is the one I told you about, the one who grew up on a ship.”
A look of panic passed over the girl’s round face, so Elaina sent the girl her most reassuring smile. “It seems the prince believes all women share his affinity for sailing. I fear he doesn’t realize just how odd I truly am for it.”
The girl nodded, but the panic didn’t quite leave her face. Nor did it leave Lydia’s.
“How fares your father?” Nicholas asked.
“I’m afraid he hasn’t yet been back to port. He’s usually heading east this time of year. I hope to have some news from him soon, though.” Perhaps if she could pacify him enough, he and his entourage would continue on and leave her alone.
“Lady Elaina!” someone from behind the prince called out.
Elaina wanted to cringe when she saw that it was Willard Appleby. “The prince here tells us that you learned to climb rigging when you were on the ship. Gown and all. That must have been quite a sight from below.” His brown eyes were bright with an interest Elaina wanted to slap off his face.
To Elaina’s surprise, however, she didn’t have to set the young man straight, for it was Nicholas who snapped at him first. “Willard, enough!”
“Is it true, though?” another young man asked.
Elaina’s annoyance melted a little when she recognized him as one of their neighbors. He was barely twelve and usually soft-spoken. “Can you climb rigging?” Unlike Willard’s hungry eyes, the boy looked merely in awe.
“My father had special dresses designed for me so that in an emergency, I could do whatever I needed to do to stay safe.”
“You wouldn’t be wearing such clothes now, would you?”
Elaina turned back to Nicholas, who looked quite pleased with himself.
“Why?”
“Follow me.” He set off, then paused and looked back when Elaina and Lydia stayed put. “Well, aren’t you coming?”
Elaina glanced at Lydia and shrugged helplessly before starting toward him. Behind her, she heard Lydia sigh before following them as well.
After a few minutes of walking, they reached a stall with a surprising sort of structure standing beside it. Two poles had been erected in the center of the merchant’s patch of ground where another tent might have stood beside the first. Ship’s rigging, already tied into footholds, had been anchored to the ground with wooden stakes and stretched up to the top of the two tallest poles, where a bell hung from each. It looked just like the miniature rigging on a ship, the part that might lead up to the crow’s nest.
“What is this?” Elaina asked.
But Nicholas only smiled. “What are the five most common sailing knots?”
“Really?” Elaina put her hands on her hips. “You gave me the day off.”
Nicholas’s smile only grew. “I’m not forcing you, am I? You’re perfectly free to walk away if you wish.”
Elaina rolled her eyes before looking back at the dangling ropes. “The encasement, the snake, the noose, the moat, and the sheet bend.”
“Girl’s got a good sense of sailing knowledge there.” A man with leathery skin and unkempt hair stepped forward.
“That she does,” Nicholas said, reaching into his coat pocket. He held up two coins. “In fact, she’s so good, I am willing to make a bet with her.”
He had lost his mind.
Elaina tilted her head. “For what?”
“Beat me by climbing this rigging, tying every knot you just named, and ringing the bell first, and you win.”
“What would I win?”
“What do you want?”
Elaina crossed her arms and studied him. Was he in earnest? There was only one way to find out. “Very well. I would want our lessons to take place five days a week instead of six.” She paused. “But if you win?”
“I could ask for that curious bracelet you’re always wearing. I have the feeling it would make for a good story.” He looked smug as Elaina immediately covered her wooden bracelet with her hand. “But as I get the feeling you’ll never part with it willingly, my prize would be that you allow me to be your partner at some formal event. A tea, a ball, who knows?” He gave her a ridiculous grin and waggled his eyebrows. “I get to choose.”
Gasps went up from his entourage. The girls looked as scandalized as the boys looked excited.
“You don’t have to do this,” Lydia whispered, tugging on her arm.
“Absolutely not.” Elaina shook her head and turned.
“Why not?” the prince demanded.
“You’d cheat.” She took her cousin’s arm and b
egan to walk away. Before she got five steps, though, Nicholas called out behind her.
“You’re just afraid you’ll lose.”
Elaina heard Lydia groan, but she whirled around anyway. “What did you say?”
“I said you’re not going to climb because you know you’ll lose . . . like a woman.”
She should have seen it there in his eyes, that hawkish calculating look again. But Elaina was too far gone to care. Yanking off her fur wrap and shoving it at her cousin, she began hiking up her skirts as she marched back toward the little crowd, immensely thankful she had worn her special pantaloons that morning. Hopefully, her aunt wouldn’t see her or the wrinkles this was sure to put in her new maroon dress.
But this was something she needed to do. For while Elaina couldn’t punish her father for his hurtful words and lack of confidence in her abilities, she could surely beat the prince. And she could do it soundly, too.
“They’re just trousers beneath,” Willard whined. “Just fluffy trousers!”
Elaina sent him a deadly look before turning back to the prince. “You’re on.”
Nicholas swept into a deep bow before asking the girl on his arm for a kiss for good luck.
The man who had admired Elaina’s knowledge of knots earlier seemed a little surprised when he found it was she who would be playing his game. But an extra coin from the prince quieted all of his protests about impropriety. Soon she and Nicholas were poised at the bottom of the rigging. Elaina’s muscles were on fire already, yearning to do what they knew so well and had been denied so long.
She would win. She would get an extra day off. And maybe the prince and some of his obnoxious friends would learn to keep their mouths shut.
At the sound of a whistle, they were off. Elaina’s fingers flew in and out of the rope without pause. Despite not having touched rigging in nearly two months, there was no hesitation. It was as though she had been born at sea.
To her surprise, however, out of the corner of her eye, she could see the prince keeping a steady pace as well. He wasn’t quite as fast, but fast enough that if she made a single mistake, he would catch her in a moment.
Cinders, Stars, and Glass Slippers: A Retelling of Cinderella (The Classical Kingdoms Collection Book 6) Page 10
