Trapped with a Way Out

by Jeffery Martinez

  "It's a beautiful day, miss. Why don't you and William take a walk outside in the sun after this is over?" Ana tied back her auburn curls and fluffed pillows next.

  Jusztina's eyes lighted up as she set the silverware down, "Oh, it is lovely. I just made it back from the market with these fruits for you."

  Walter eyed the fruit bowls, "Where on earth did you get these oranges? They're a rare delicacy."

  Jusztina smiled, completely satisfied, "I was able to ask a favor of a friend I have. Besides, I thought these would go quite well in the portrait with Richard."

  Walter nodded in agreement.

  Richard sat there, silenced by her own personal painter. She wanted to flail her hands in the air and kick the damn easel herself. Had it not been for her upbringing, she would have.

  "If you so wish, you could even help us with our chores," Ana was bold enough to say with some harmless spite laced into her words.

  Her ladies-in-waiting were taking the advantage of Richard not being allowed to speak quite well, in fact. Richard was ready with a retort, but feared that any slight movement would send the artist flying out of the window in a suicidal rage. It wasn't until she saw that Jusztina had begun placing the fruits onto the various tables throughout the room that Richard heard her stomach growl. The sustenance called to her. Jusztina set down a few oranges onto the table in front of Walter and in plain sight of Richard. The princess felt her mouth water as she dug her nails into the carving of the chair again. She almost started whimpering, feeling as if she were being tortured.

  "Ah," the artist sighed satisfactorily as he finally sat up from his hunched position of concentration and reached for an orange.

  Richard's eyes followed his hand as he considered one and then took the other. She bit her lip and sucked her breath in, watching as the peculiar man peeled back some of the skin with his spidery fingers and opened his mouth to bite into it. He offered a chunk of it to William as well.

  "Break time!" Richard shouted as she launched out of her seat, sending it tumbling backward, and dove for the last succulent fruit.

  Walter sat up instantly and watched, half amused and half empathetic, as always, and patted her on the back, turning to the stunned lanky man.

  "Perhaps a few minutes?" Walter suggested and nodded below him to the princess who was ripping apart the orange and sucking the life out of it.

  The artist, without giving it much thought, nodded fervently and gathered up his things, "Of course. I could use a break from this girl. Parents today refuse to teach their children manners!," He strutted out of the room proudly.

  Richard lifted her face from devouring the orange and let its juice dribble down to her chin. She grinned at the man with seeds stuck between her teeth and opened her mouth at him, making an unattractive gagging noise in the process. She was rewarded by his horrified expression as his own mouth dropped in shock.

  "H-how dare you! Mad viper of a child!" He spat and slammed the door, startling her ladies-in-waiting. William, Matthias, and Richard all laughed.

  Walter smacked his palm to his forehead, "Must you aggravate everyone who does not bend to your will?"

  She grinned evilly, "Until it becomes so unbearable, they succumb," she paused, "Was that rhetorical, or have you forgotten the entire lifetime you've known me?"

  He sighed, "Ah, yes. Why do I bother, my master?"

  She smiled at him for a moment before her eyes waned into a look of weary sadness.

  "It's really going to happen, isn't it?" she asked, as if hoping he could, within a word, have the power to change her fate.

  He nodded somberly, "It will, my Lady."

  She inhaled slowly and exhaled, letting her shoulders sag in what little display of despair she would allow herself to show. Her manservant seemed to notice her lowering posture and felt his hand find her shoulder. She flinched at the contact, and he almost let go. But just as he was about to drop his hand she leaned her head onto his own shoulder and placed her hand atop his hand in platonic affection. He smiled as he looked at her young and un-callused hand, lifting it up to kiss her palm. She smiled softly, noticing her vision begin to suddenly blur. His face contorted into slight shock as he wiped a tear from her face. She was just as stunned as he was at the sight of it and let her head slide off of his shoulder.

  Walter chuckled softly, "My Lady…"

  "What, Walter?" she cradled her head in her hands.

  "Grow up," he said with conviction.

  The princess blinked away her growing tears for the moment and raised her head to see him. Walter stood up unflinchingly with a tall stature and clenched fists. His tight shoulders and stern face made him look almost threatening to her, and had she not known him, she would have been. But the act looked almost forced, as if he'd rather see her angry –at him no less– than sad about something.

  "Walter?"

  "Richard, I know that this seems like the end of the world, I know that you don't think it's fair, and I know your mind is still thinking up ways to weasel out of this right now. But you need to stop wallowing in self pity. It's been three weeks. I can barely stand it anymore. This has to cease. 'Woe is me' will only work if you plan on doing absolutely nothing about this," he stated with disgust.

  Richard scoffed angrily, "What can I do, Walter? I can mourn the death of my independence; now leave me be to do just that."

  "That's not the Richard I know," William added in, shaking her head, "She would stand strong, she would laugh at the challenge and prove the men around her wrong, and she would take it like a man."

  Richard wiped at her eyes again, "What would you have me do, fight it or accept it?"

  William rolled her eyes, "I would have you use it to your advantage! This situation is no more different than any of the other problems you have had to face in the past. Each time, you were given a choice: submit to it, or use it for your own gain. And each time, Richard, you used it and wielded your enemies' leverage as your own, conquering them in the process."

  Walter glanced at William and smiled, clearly in support of her comments. Her older sister blinked at the ground as she recalled all of the lessons she had taken in rhetoric and history, and the fights she would have with Rodriguez and her other subjects, as well as her own father.

  "This whimpering, submissive, teary-eyed bride-to-be is no sister I remember," William chuckled and placed her hands on her hips.

  Richard looked up and smiled, "You…you're starting to sound like me." She sniffled one last time and straightened her posture, "You're right. Sobby tears be damned! I will not perish in a puddle of tears of my own making! I will stand up to this and take the hit."

  "Tell Lord Vincentislav II that I can spare another battalion of men for him, but no more," The Regent dug his fingers into his scalp, clearly frustrated, "He needs to unify Wallachia, and quickly."

  Rodriguez bowed to that and shifted around more papers. Thumbing through more documents, he pulled out another sheet of paper, "Ah, also, the village of Bagamér is acting up again. There have reportedly been fights, looting, and protests against your regency over The Kingdom of Hungary. A messenger delivered it on this morn."

  The Regent yanked on his growing dark brown hair until he could feel individual strands snap, "I thought we crushed that uprising. I thought Ladislaus took care of it," he turned sharply to Vincent, "I thought you took care of it."

  Vincent brushed the comment aside easily, "My Lord, Ladislaus and I would have, were it not for the imminent trouble of the Ottoman army we found out about. Ladislaus had been crushing the uprising for two days when I arrived. Then we caught word of the Ottomans sneaking around. That was when we sent Andor to investigate, only he came back to us pierced by a crossbow. From there on out, it seemed pretty clear where we needed to place our priorities."

  Rodriguez narrowed his eyes at his second advisor, "It seems everywhere you go there are Ottomans on your heels."

  "Well, if I recall what happened last time correctly, you and the Regent actu
ally set me up to face Radu in the hopes that I would either die, or join them. What you were not counting on was the feverish loyalty I have for the Order of the Dragon," Vincent did not even look at Rodriguez and kept his eyes leveled on his ruler.

  "Yet you do not deny the fact that Radu might compromise the ending of a battle. After all, you did take mercy on him," Rodriguez shut his notes and adjusted the cross around his neck, staring at the back of Vincent's head in an open glare.

  Vincent turned very slowly around and met Rodriguez's gaze with a look of calm rage, "The most you could ever distort what happened is to say that I 'spared' Radu. I do not take mercy on my enemy. We were outnumbered by at least three to one and their foot artillery arrived. I had two options: die in a futile attempt to kill my brother, or flee as…" Vincent turned to the Regent, "…your son did. So, my dear Royal Vizier…" he turned back around, "…if you wish to give someone a lashing with that blunt tongue, then I suggest you turn to Ladislaus since it was he who made the order to attack head on."

  "He told me what happened," The ruler stated defensively, "I am not saying that I respect his decision, and I had a very long talk with him. Gentlemen," his voice suddenly sounded of diplomatic velvet, "I thought we were passed all of this childish back and forth bickering, or should I leave and return tomorrow?"

  "No, my Lord," Rodriguez quickly reassured, "My apologies, but I still have doubts about this man." He nodded to the Wallachian.

  Vincent snickered gruffly, "Just as I have my doubts about your competence."

  Rodriguez twitched, but stood still, "I will have a word with you after this meeting." His eyes almost seemed to grow a shade darker to match his menacing tone.

  "Gentlemen," The Regent warned.

  The Wallachian sighed theatrically, "We could duel right now, if you so wished my fellow advisor," Vincent taunted. When Rodriguez stood there with remarkable self-restraint, Vincent shrugged and turned back to The Regent, "My Lord, might I suggest stationing soldiers there permanently? It would certainly help in preventing another uprising, but it would also keep a few extra pairs of eyes fixed on the border between our territory and the Ottoman's."

  He nodded.

  "If there is anything I know about the Ottomans, it is that they thrive on finding any weak spots in your borders and exploit them to the fullest extent. We want to make sure that they focus their troops elsewhere. So long as they believe that we are a force of equal strength to their own, they will not waste more men in trying to conquer Hungary; and the sooner we accomplish this, the sooner we can all sleep at night," Vincent turned around to face the carved-out window thoughtfully.

  Fortunately, a beautiful woman in a dark blue flowing dress floated into the room with an angel's grace. Erzsébet smiled and curtsied to every man in the room, a slow and loving movement. Rodriguez, Vincent, and the Regent all stared at her perfection with their mouths slightly open. Her lavender perfume seemed to emanate from the walls and intoxicate the inhabitants. Erzsébet laughed melodiously, the paragon of what a queen should look like.

  "Well, let us continue the meeting, shall we? Do not stop on my account," she grinned, pleased with their reactions to her dramatic entrance.

  Rodriguez kissed her ring as she extended her arm, "My governess, it pleases me to see you well."

  She nodded and turned to Vincent. Erzsébet seemed to hesitate for a split second, which was noticed only by him. As they locked with his, her eyes, in that moment, penetrated through his walls of pretentious, swaggering courage. The deep wistfulness within those blue orbs seemed to strip away every piece of armor he had within the span of a second. It startled him as she stared at him longer, which only made him feel as though he continued sinking into an abyss. It slipped its hooks into him and pull him lower, deeper, lulling him almost into a drowsy sleep.

  He stood there, in a strange coma, feeling completely naked and exposed for her to begin her dissection. When he watched her lips curl upward in a smile, he couldn't feel the strength to breathe. Trying to break free from her, he squirmed. To his relief, she lifted her toxic gaze from him and looked back at her husband. He instantly felt released from being held captive and touched every piece of his clothing, making sure it was just a reverie.

  When he dared to look back at Erzsébet, she looked as harmless as ever. He blinked in confusion and shook his head.

  "So this is Sir Vincentislaus Ramos III," She announced graciously.

  He instinctively stepped forward and bowed, her arm extended to him, and he hesitated.

  "Your generosity is as remarkable as your beauty," Vincent kissed her soft white skin that resembled Richard's remarkably, "I can easily see where your daughters get their beauty."

  He saw her eyes flash in anger for a split second but then return to their charming glow once more.

  "Thank you, young one," She chuckled and stepped back to her husband's side.

  "I've been thinking, my love," The Regent thoughtfully looked a manuscript over, "My birthday is coming up, is it not? Should we begin plans for the annual feast day?"

  Erzsébet made a sound of slight interest, "Yes, it is. I was thinking of preparing a feast for you, in your honor. Or perhaps a celebration?"

  The Regent-governor nodded slowly to both of those ideas, but he was now more focused on the fact that she seemed distant, "Is something wrong?"

  She blinked and smiled politely, "No, nothing," Her eyes wandered to Vincent for a moment, "I only worry for our daughter."

  The Regent sighed and decided to sit down for this conversation, "I told you. Victor is a good man. His title says it all. Imperial prince, Duke of Munsterberg and Opava and Count of Kladsko."

  "It is not Victor in whom I have doubts," Erzsébet clarified softly, breaking her eye-contact with Vincent, whose heart began to beat faster, "It is with George of Kunštát and Poděbrady, Victor's father."

  Vincent exhaled silently.

  "You know he claims regency over Bohemia, but that region is torn viciously with civil war: one party faithful to Rome, and the other, the Hussites, faithful to him. That is hardly a stable ally to put so much faith in, and I can't help but wonder if he will be there to help us against the Ottomans."

  The Regent wrapped his arms around his wife, securing her, and hoping he could secure her doubts, "I know…I know…" he whispered in her ear, "But it is a marriage-alliance. It is a pact between regions like us. It promises that–"

  "That's the problem," Erzsébet raised her voice, "I don't want her anywhere near Bohemia. She might get killed, János. It's not stable there."

  He hushed her by placing a thick index finger across her lips, "Which is why I am going to invite Victor to the celebration of my birthday. And his father, The Regent of Bohemia, George, is invited, along with his family. Everyone shall be invited. Every man with a title attached to his name can be invited. Perhaps we could even make it a tournament, a Turneul Cavalerilor."

  Erzsébet coiled a strip of her blonde hairs around her finger in deep thought. Her nose scrunched and her eyes narrowed. The Regent almost kissed her right there for looking so cute, but he refrained, because he knew she would get mad at him diverting her concentration. She bit at her lip, considering something new.

  "My love, tournaments are held for the sole purpose of winning a fair noble Lady, so that the knight may talk to the nobleman to arrange a marriage…"

  The Regent's eyes lit up as he began to imagine it, "Yes, you're right. We could kill two birds with one stone."

  Erzsébet chuckled, seeing exactly where he was headed, "You mean to invite Victor to the celebration to meet Richard, and marry William off to a knight who registers in the Turneul Cavalerilor? Ingenious."

  The ruler kissed the top of her forehead slowly and looked down at her adoringly, "What would we do without each other?"

  She was about to answer him when he silenced her reply with a kiss. Vincent had guessed it was a rhetorical question.

  "And I believe this is where I take my leave," Vincent
heard himself say abruptly, startling their amorous moment. Rodriguez nodded in agreement, turning a sickly green color.

  The Regent snapped his fingers to both men without breaking eye contact with Erzsébet, "Ah ah…my advisors, get this job done. The celebration needs to be…a memorable one."

  Rodriguez cleared his throat, "My Lord…what of Bagamér?"

  "Yes," The Regent seemed to remember, "You're right. Send Ladislaus and a company of men to assist him." He did not release his wife as she quite resisting him, sighed, and began to hug him back.

  Vincent, mildly disgusted by the sight, forced himself to take a step forward for his question, "My Lord, do you wish me to accompany Prince Ladislaus to quell the uprising?" Eagerness could not be masked in his voice.

  "I second the idea," Rodriguez nodded in agreement, the only time Vincent actually would have his support.

  But The Regent shook his head in disagreement, "No, you shan't. You must stay here and help with the preparations of the tournament. You have helped enough already in this meeting."

  Rodriguez watched as the young man's jaw locked and his gaze fell to the floor in frustration. In a whisper that could almost not be heard, Vincent stated, "My Lord, I hardly feel useful planning for a party…"

  "You will do as you are told, advisor," The Regent stated impatiently.

  "Then shall I do what I'm clearly supposed to do?" Vincent raised his voice, "I'll just then advise you of the fact that my title is Captain, and I prefer to be called as such. The word 'advisor' is reserved for men with obsequious pomposity. In essence, Rodriguez," Vincent threw him a perfect smile.

  There was a pause when The Regent decided whether or not to answer, and how to. The man let go of his worrying wife and sighed, turning around to face the young brute. The older man's eyes dangerously narrowed as he walked up to Vincent. The Regent placed a hard hand onto Vincent's shoulder, instantly choking its circulation in a vice grip. Vincent fought the urge to flinch and twist away from the pain, but pain was what taught him to stay strong; it was what taught him to stare back at his problem and fight it relentlessly into the ground; it was what taught him to stay alive, what reminded him of the fact that he still was alive. The Regent bent slightly to whisper in Vincent's ear.