The Orphan's Secret

by R. J. Francis

  Jaimin attended classes whenever he could, but as the prince he was exempt from the academic expectations that dogged his classmates. Instead, he was required to attend official functions, to entertain visitors from other lands, to master the minutiae of administering the kingdom at the highest level, and to spend a reasonable number of hours per week perfecting his mending.

  In the early afternoon, a series of thunderstorms rolled in off the ocean. The rain infused the halls off the central courtyard with a muddy, slightly spicy scent. Students went about their daily business, avoiding crossing the courtyard during the more intense squalls.

  After checking on his convalescing horse in the royal stables, Jaimin visited the library. His father had relaxed his security restrictions; the prince no longer had Arin following him around. Jaimin’s five-year-old sister Tori was seated with her pre-academy class in a reading circle in the center of the library. Taking a circuitous route so she wouldn’t notice him, Jaimin selected a book on animal husbandry and sat down in his regular chair to read it.

  After classes let out, Nastasha joined him.

  “Did you know that the gestation period for cows is the same as for humans?” he asked.

  “Fascinating,” she said. She was often envious of how much down time Jaimin seemed to have.

  “Some cows may calve five or six times,” Jaimin said. “Can you imagine what the world would be like if humans could give birth that many times?”

  “I should hope they would choose not to. If there were too many people, they would fight over resources, and the world would become terribly unpleasant.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh, yes,” she said. “People turn nasty when there’s competition for the things they want.”

  “I’m sure they could find a way to share.”

  “Not likely.” Nastasha sat back in her chair. “So, tell me about last night. You obviously made it back intact.”

  “Yes, your plan worked flawlessly. Thanks for your help,” Jaimin said, and left it at that.

  “So… the girl got her cloak back?”

  “She did.”

  “Did she recognize you?”

  “She did.”

  Nastasha was puzzled. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. She remembered everything that had happened the night before.”

  Nastasha bit her lower lip. “Hmm. I’ve never heard of any of Devon’s victims remembering a thing they weren’t supposed to.”

  “Her name is Elaina.” Jaimin went on to relate the details of his encounter with the “farm girl.” Nastasha listened without interrupting. She detected an eagerness in his voice as he described Elaina, and a poetry in the words he chose to express how he felt at each moment they were together in the barn. She considered the spaces between his words, contemplated the duration of his pauses, and interpreted the depth of his breathing.

  Jaimin held nothing back in his narrative, and the more he revealed, the colder Nastasha grew. Just as he was about to disclose that he and Elaina had made plans to see each other again, he stopped.

  “Go on. What’s wrong?”

  “I’m sorry, but for some reason I feel uncomfortable telling you everything.”

  “I understand,” she said.

  “You do?”

  “I do. I’m just glad you’re safe.”

  “Well… I’m seeing her again. Tonight.”

  She just stared at him blankly. After about ten seconds of this, a tear sped down her cheek. Then another. She closed her eyes, but couldn’t contain her tears.

  He gave her time to calm down. He glanced around to see if anyone else was watching, and someone was. Not far away, Devon’s daughter Raquel was leaning against a book stack, unabashedly spying on them. She was a thin girl, on the pretty side of plain, with shiny black hair. Jaimin scowled at her. She flashed a smirk and ducked behind the tall shelf.

  “I’m sorry,” Nastasha said, opening her eyes, which now glistened. “Jaimin, I’ve not been honest with you.”

  “We’re being watched,” he said, glancing over at the stack where Raquel was now peeping between two books.

  “Who is it?”

  “Only the biggest gossip we know.”

  Nastasha got up, picked up Jaimin’s animal husbandry book and, with a flick of her wrist, flung it toward Raquel’s position with infinite precision. It struck several other books, knocking them into Raquel’s face. Nastasha ran around the stack to see Raquel scurrying off.

  “Let her go. You’ll cause a scene,” Jaimin said, catching up. Nastasha took his hand and pulled him into a nearby sorting room, where she worked some stones in the wall to open a secret door. They slipped into the dank passageways between the walls—this time, without a lamp.

  “That’s better,” she said. They stood face to face in the utter darkness. She took his other hand. “That bitch. She’s asking for it.”

  “She’s so brazen about it. You can open this door back up, right?”

  “Oh, yes. I’ve been this way before.”

  “Of course you have.”

  “Look, Jaimin, as I was saying, I’ve not been honest with you.”

  “About what?”

  “I… I was counting on your farm girl not remembering you, hoping you’d be done with her.”

  “I see. Because you were concerned about my safety and didn’t want me to leave the castle again?”

  “Yes.”

  “Because you think I deserve better than a farm girl?”

  “Yes.”

  “And because you love me.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, but her words would not form, and she was quiet for a long time. Then she leaned in, rested her face against his, and whispered, “Yes.”

  He held her.

  “Yes,” she said feebly. “I suppose I’ve loved you for years. It’s only now there’s someone else in your thoughts I realize how much you’re a part of me. And… and how much closer we could be. Have you ever felt the same?”

  “I have,” he said.

  “You have?” she said weakly.

  In the absolute darkness, she felt for his cheeks, held them in her fingers and kissed him lightly. He slid his hand onto her back, pressed her to him and engaged her in a deeper kiss, at times mixed with the salt of her tears, and they explored the future that might be.

  As they broke away, he said, “Now we’ve been honest with each other.”

  “And ourselves,” she said. “Jaimin, you have a choice. If this girl stirs you, you should follow your heart. I shall be for you whatever you need. Please keep me by your side, as a friend if nothing more.”

  “Of course, but…”

  “You must go to Elaina tonight, and think nothing of me.”

  “What?”

  “Go to her.” Her tears flowed.

  “How could I not think of you?”

  “I should tell you not to think of love at all, with everything that’s going on. You should be focusing on your duty, your safety, your kingdom. But something about this farm girl draws you, and you mustn’t ignore it. And I…”

  He interrupted her with another kiss, and she welcomed it. “Oh, Jaimin, don’t test me,” she said, after taking a breath. “Because I would never push you away.” They could feel each other trembling—in their cores, where everything matters.

  “I don’t know what to say,” he said.

  “Say nothing then.”

  They stayed there in the dark and silent space, holding each other, remembering the past, enjoying the moment, and dreaming of what might be, until they grew brave enough to let each other go.

  Alessa and Elaina walked hand in hand up a steep alley that led up to the merchant district, being careful not to slip on the paving stones still slick from the afternoon’s spate of thundershowers. Elaina had her newly returned cloak to cover a clean white work shirt and pants, and Alessa sported an attractive violet cloak of satin-lined wool over a black and grey riding dress.

  When Alessa had to go into
town, she avoided the main streets and favored the alleys. She felt awkward around crowds, and she had a very low threshold for the number of people that constituted a crowd.

  Elaina, who came to market once a week, also preferred more intimate surroundings. She found many of her customers fascinating, and wished she could connect with them on a deeper level, but there were always other customers clamoring for her attention.

  She and Alessa rounded the corner onto a broad cobblestone street. There weren’t many shoppers out—probably because the weather was being so fickle. Alessa pointed to a nondescript business just on their left, where an iron sign flapping in the wind read: “M. Ferrell, Dressmaker.”

  “That’s it. Right there,” Alessa said. “I’m going to buy you a dress.”

  Elaina had never worn a dress, but she was intrigued by the idea. “Alessa,” she said, “I have plenty of money.”

  “Don’t be silly! It’ll be a gift.” They stepped down into a recessed patio to get to the establishment’s wide wooden door. “It won’t be ready by tonight,” Alessa explained, “but since we’re in the city I’d like you to get fitted.”

  “But I need something for tonight.”

  “This won’t take long. Masha’s quick. She’s a charming woman, and you can practice your curtsey.”

  Elaina had passed this shop many times, but she wasn’t expecting the fantastic variety of materials in every color and texture that greeted her as soon as she entered. A rainbow of fabric bolts encircled the front room on low shelves; higher shelves held a jumble of ribbon, lace, trim, and tiny glass boxes full of snaps, clips, buttons, and hooks. In one corner, a wooden platform was surrounded on three sides by mirrors, and a stand held measuring tapes, pins, scissors and other tailoring paraphernalia. The whole place smelled of cloth, dye and an exotic floral perfume.

  Through a doorway they could see a cluttered but spacious workshop, better lit than the front room. From the very back a voice called out “Hellooooo,” and a short, thin woman, well on in age, popped up like a burrow dog from behind a desk. With a dancer’s grace, the shopkeeper maneuvered around her work tables to greet her clients. “Oh, excuse me, I thought I heard someone come in.” Masha Ferrell wore an ear-to-ear grin, a snug dress of black lace, a ring on each finger, and rectangular spectacles that only seemed at home on the bulbous tip of her nose. “Alessa,” said Masha. “It’s been too long!”

  “Masha, I’d like you to meet my best friend, Elaina. Elaina, Masha Ferrell.” Elaina started to extend her hand, but she caught herself and practiced a full curtsey instead.

  “So this is Elaina.” Masha came close. Elaina was so much taller than the dressmaker, side by side they could have been mistaken for different species. “Such bewitching features!” Masha, her wrists reeking of perfume, fondled and examined Elaina’s face as if it were an antique music box. “Radiant skin, exotic eyes, delicate lips, a fine figure!” Elaina’s cheeks flushed bright red.

  “I’d like to order a dress for her. Several, actually,” said Alessa. Elaina raised her eyebrows. One dress would be more than enough, she thought.

  “A fabulous idea!” said Masha, still transfixed by Elaina’s face. “I just happen to know something about dresses.”

  “Can you make the first one by next week? I’ll pay you triple.”

  “Nonsense! I shall do the first one for nothing, and I shall deliver it to you tomorrow. Believe me, dear, it’s not every day that I get to outfit such an exquisite customer.”

  Alessa grinned. She was relishing the whole encounter. Deep down, Elaina was having fun too, but she was sure the couturière would eventually comment on her work clothes and her inexcusably short hair.

  “What’s the occasion?” Masha asked.

  “Elaina has a new boyfriend,” said Alessa, taking a seat in an old rocking chair.

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” Elaina protested, as if she’d been accused of a serious crime. Alessa would often tease Elaina—not out of malice, but because it got her thinking.

  “Please, my dear,” Masha said to Elaina. “In my experience, Alessa always knows what she’s talking about. If she says he’s your boyfriend, that’s what he is.” She turned to Alessa. “Now then, this first dress—what type of affair are we going for?”

  “A royal ball,” said Alessa.

  Elaina’s jaw dropped. “How impractical!” she gasped.

  “Young lady!” Masha snapped. “In my opinion—which is worth a lot around here—Alessa has the best judgment of anyone in the kingdom. You would do well not to question her.”

  Masha obtained all of Elaina’s critical measurements, and fitted her for shoes, while remarking repeatedly on how strong a body Elaina had. The three of them picked out seven different foundation fabrics: silks of white, black, and royal blue; maroon and sable velvets; a lilac satin; and an ivory cotton and linen blend. Once the fabrics were decided, Alessa and Masha huddled back in the workshop, discussing more details, while Elaina waited in a squeaky rocking chair, marveling at all the fancy fabrics and trimmings, and at how quickly her life was changing.

  As they left, Alessa said, “Now, let’s find you something to wear tonight.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  The overlook, a broad field of grass atop a granite sea cliff, was a favorite spot for Arran families to gather on warm summer evenings to watch the sun disappear into the sea. Parents with small children had to set up their picnics well away from the cliff edge, as it was a thirty-meter drop to the boulder-strewn beach below.

  In autumn and winter, the site took the brunt of the ocean’s chill and wind, so everyone but the most ardent lovers and stargazers avoided the place.

  Elaina got to the overlook before the moon rose. Her eyes had already adapted to the darkness.

  Sitting on the cliff watching the restless black ocean stir, she could feel the energy of the distant water—as if she and the sea shared a magnetic bond. The breeze was tugging at the water’s skin, pulling up a million wavelets across the ocean’s expanse, up and down the coast and all the way to the horizon. She wished she could be the wind, to pull on the water, to feel the delightful resistance as it drew back. Nightmare grazed in the field.

  Elaina was delighted with her new clothes. Arra’s ready-to-wear garments—a new trend—were of high quality, and she had found a winning outfit: dark grey wool pants embellished with embroidered black spirals, a black cashmere sweater with a thick turtleneck collar, and a black cloak lined with white ermine. She had even found time to visit Alessa’s pools to cleanse her body and condition her hair with floral oils.

  Jaimin arrived on time and on foot. Over his grey wool pants and heavy maroon satin dress shirt he wore a thick cape: black on the outside and silver underneath. No hood, this time.

  Elaina stood. The bracing wind buffeted her cloak.

  “Good evening,” he said.

  “Good evening, Jem.” When she curtseyed in perfect form, Jaimin almost stopped breathing. He’d expected another handshake.

  “I hope I didn’t pass you in the dark without offering you a ride.”

  “No, I came through the woods.”

  “I see.”

  “You look lovely,” he said.

  Compliments usually turned Elaina beet red, but she was so energized and self-assured she retained her normal color. “It’s kind of you to say that.” She wanted to tell him how appealing he looked as well, but she kept this thought private. “Sit with me here on the edge,” she said.

  They sat together with their legs hanging over the precipitous ledge. The nearly full moon was now visible atop the ridge behind them. Sparks danced on the sea, which had lightened to a midnight blue.

  “You sure caught me by surprise last night, in my dirty clothes,” she said.

  “I had no idea of your daily schedule.”

  “Of course.” She smiled.

  “And my timing wasn’t of my choosing,” he said. “I had to sneak out to return your cloak. My father thought I was sleeping.”
/>   “Oh, did he? Do you have to sneak out every night, or does he release you sometimes if you behave?”

  “He doesn’t let me out much at all these days.”

  “So, I suppose you’re risking your father’s wrath again tonight just to visit me?”

  “I’m not afraid of my father,” he said so abruptly she inferred the opposite.

  “I do appreciate your coming out.”

  “If you don’t mind, what is your daily schedule?”

  “It’s a busy one,” she said. “I milk the cows and goats, feed and clean up after all the animals, and then go back inside to clean myself up and cook breakfast. After that, it’s into my factory, where I bottle the milk and make cheese, krenna, yogurt…whatever we need. Next I prepare lunch, and then there are more chores in the barn and in the house. Finally, in the afternoon, I get a break, and I ride my amazing horse out on the trails. After that, one more milking, then it’s back into the kitchen to fix dinner, but I don’t eat at home—I eat at Alessa’s house. Alessa’s my best friend, and also my tutor. We study together each evening for hours.”

  “What do you study?”

  “Oh, we’ve studied many things over the years: mathematics, science, languages… Alessa uses the curriculum from the Royal Academy.”

  Jaimin looked puzzled. “How did she get that curriculum?” “I never asked her.”

  “What are you studying now in mathematics?” he asked.

  “Oh, we’re working on higher dimensional geometry.”

  “That’s something not everyone in my school can tackle, but I’d be willing to try. Someday.”

  “Take your time. It gives me a headache,” she said.

  “How many languages do you speak?”

  “Just two besides our own. Skarjian and Indulesele.”

  “I speak a bit of Skarjian too, but my grammar is awful.”

  “Tewe dje dje shenallava kirkranada?” she teased.

  “I think I know what you’re asking, but I’m not even going to try to answer. You must spend every minute of your free time studying.”

  “Actually, I spend most of my free time riding or resting,” she said. “And studying a bit, I guess. My chores take up most of my time. Especially the factory work and cooking.”