Pigsty Princess
by Nancy S. Brandt
Published by Astraea Press
www.astraeapress.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.
PIGSTY PRINCESS
Copyright © 2014 NANCY S. BRANDT
ISBN 978-1-62135-385-0
Cover Art Designed by CORA GRAPHICS
To the Rowdies: Jo, Meredith, Bonnie and Steve,
a great critique group and good friends. Our paths have separated, but our friendships remain. Also, as always to MY Steve, Juliette and Noah – I couldn't do what I do without you.
Acknowledgments
Writing is a solitary profession, but no one can do it without the support of friends and colleagues. I want to thank the Heart of Louisiana Chapter of Romance Writers of America for helping me find that support. Also, I want to thank those who read versions of this book to give me their opinions and advice: Angela Pereira, Sarah Neau, Samantha Summers, Judy Zahrndt, and Wendy Russo.
Bigger thanks go to my family, Ann and Dick Brandt and Rob and Elizabeth Petersen for their love and support; my kids, Juliette and Noah, for putting up with Mom living in a fantasy world most of the time, and of course, my husband, Steven for listening, commiserating, offering ideas and helping me figure out plot problems. I love you all more than you will ever know.
And of course, I want to thank God for giving me the gift of writing and reminding me day after day that this is what I was called to do.
Chapter One
Progenna Mariana, fourth child of Queen Alexandria and King Jonathan of Valborough, watched the couples twirling around the dance floor. Beneath their feet, colored mosaics representing the eight magical elements danced as well, the patterns changing in time with the music.
The annual ball in celebration of the Queen’s birthday was in full swing.
Mariana watched in delight as her brother, Cognate Prince Ramone, Heir Presumptive, danced with his wife, who would be delivering their first child within the next month. The white sash draped from Grand Sahdess Victoria’s right shoulder to her left hip indicated Air Sensitivity and explained how she could be so light on her feet even with such an advanced pregnancy.
Mariana idly ran her fingertips along the fold of her own black satin sash, narrower than any the rest of the royal family wore. Traditionally, black was for children whose Sensitivities haven’t manifested yet, or the rare Insensitive Commoner invited to royal celebrations.
The color of her sash shouldn’t have bothered her anymore. Everyone in the kingdom knew Mariana had no Sensitivities. In fact, even her title, “Progenna,” had been created especially for her. The title identified her as a daughter of the King and Queen, but also made it clear she had no magical abilities and, therefore, no place in the line of succession. She was, officially, a royal nobody.
The music from the quartet of stringed instruments stopped, and the couples paired up in two lines in the center of the floor for the next dance, a lively reel.
Mariana moved along the tapestry-covered walls toward the three sets of double doors that led to the balcony.
She had to find Darius, son and Heir Presumptive of Clarence, the Margrave of Sasoin. As Mariana surveyed the dance floor, she couldn’t see Darius, who was known as the Rieravo of Sasoin, a title he inherited when his father’s landholdings increased and the older man was given the higher title.
As one of the few still-unmarried Heir Presumptives of a high-ranking noble in the court, Darius had a partner for every dance of the evening. Mariana assumed he had to be out on the balcony getting some fresh air after all the dancing he’d done.
She and Darius had been an unofficial couple for some time now, and one more dance would make it official. Then, her father couldn’t keep them from announcing their intent to wed. After all, a third dance at such an event was practically an engagement announcement all by itself.
As she passed by, guests bowed their heads and muttered greetings. However, she ignored them all, as she was only interested in finding Darius.
Suddenly, she was halted by a black wooden cane thrust horizontally in front of her. Its bearer was a short bald man with one eye, who smiled so wide at her his yellow chipped teeth were visible.
“Pir Leo,” Mariana said, making a small curtsy of respect to the Sahdeer of Valentine, advisor to the King. “How nice to see you this evening.”
“My dear Progenna Mariana, I have been hoping to dance with you.” He grabbed her gloved hand and kissed it. As always, he lingered longer than was appropriate before releasing her. Marianna suppressed a shudder.
Pir Leo had been a figure in her life since she was a child. Because he was an expert in diplomacy and foreign relations, he was a frequent visitor to the palace and even at family gatherings. He had always frightened her.
The wealthy Fauna and Flora Sensitive, who was old enough to be her grandfather and not as tall as she was, had a puckered scar running from above his right ear, across his empty eye socket, nose, and left cheek, and down his neck to below the collar of his shirt.
“Thank you, Pir Leo,” Mariana said with another small curtsy, “but this dance is promised to Darius Sasoin.” He couldn’t know she was stretching the truth a bit.
The lopsided smile on the elderly man’s face disappeared, and she took an involuntary step back from the angry glint that sprang into his good eye.
“I didn’t realize the King had given permission for your relationship with the Rieravo of Sasoin to become public at the Queen’s birthday celebration.”
Mariana scowled and interrupted him. “I was not aware that your counsel with my father had extended to family matters. Who I dance with and how often is none of your business. Now, if you will excuse me, I believe our conversation is at an end.”
“Of course, Progenna.” The man bowed as protocol demanded, but he never took his eye off her face, giving her the sensation someone had slipped ice down the back of her gown.
She spun away from him, and unfortunately, the path to the balcony as well. She decided to slip into the ladies’ dressing room to give herself a chance to calm down.
The first time Mariana saw the Sahdeer, she was about four years old, and his appearance had terrified her. She’d run into the butler’s pantry and hidden behind a barrel of apples until her mother found her at bedtime.
Years later, when Mariana was ten, the Queen had explained he’d gotten the injury when his whiskey distillery had exploded and four employees had been killed. It wasn’t until Mariana was sixteen that she discovered the accident had been his fault for using inferior materials and working his employees for days without a break.
In retaliation for that accident, the father of two boys who’d died confronted Valentine in an alley near the distillery and cut off the Sahdeer’s left hand, leaving a stump that was now covered by a custom-made velvet and lace cap.
The dressing room was empty when Mariana entered, so she splashed some water on her face and adjusted the jewels in her hair. Those small routine behaviors returned her to a sense of normalcy. She left the dressing room with her head held high and all thoughts of Pir Leo dismissed from her mind.
“Progenna?” A tall, slender man with skin the color of the rich chocolate her mother imported from her home country of Poole stepped in front of her b
efore she got halfway across the ballroom, blocking her view of the balcony.
“Fredrick.” Mariana curtsied. “I’m afraid I’m in a bit of a hurry.”
Fredrick, the Margrave of Mindenwall, was her brother’s head of household. His father, the Sahdeer of Mindenwall, was an important member of the House of Pirs, a branch of the government that oversaw legal matters of landownership and inheritance. As such, he often came to the palace, and Frederick and his brother and sister practically grew up with the royal children. In many ways, Frederick was more like an annoying older brother to Mariana than one of her brother’s servants.
He sighed. “I assume you’re looking for Darius. Do you think a third dance with him would be wise this evening? I’m sure you don’t want to take the spotlight from the Queen.”
“Have you been watching who I dance with, Margrave?” The use of his formal title, and hiding her smile behind her fan was the kind of flirtatious act her sister Ursula would employ to take a man’s mind off an unpleasant subject. “I had no idea of your interest.”
Frederick straightened his spine. He stood about half a hand taller than she was, but his proud manner made her feel much smaller.
His brown eyes grew darker as they met hers. “Mariana, you are like a sister to me, and I don’t want to see you get hurt. Perhaps it would be better for you to find a different dance partner.” He studied the crowd. “I’m sure Vishah Purchon would be happy to dance the next set with you.”
Marian bit back a growl. “Vishah Purchon? He owns no land and from what I hear has many gambling debts. Why is it better that I dance with someone with no prospects than with the son of a Margrave?”
Frederick raised a single eyebrow. “It’s only a dance, Progenna. Purchon may have little money and no land, but from what I hear, he can be an amusing dance partner. I’m sure your parents would like to see you enjoying yourself on the dance floor.”
“Why does everyone in the kingdom think they can dictate who I dance with?” She tried to push by him, but he stopped her with a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“Someday, your brother will be King, and who you spend time with in public will be of extreme importance. You would do well to choose more wisely.”
She glared at him, wishing she didn’t have to tilt her head up to do so.
“Darius is the eldest son and Heir Presumptive of a Margrave,” Mariana said. “He is entirely suitable as a husband, especially since I will never be in line for the throne. Of course, he hasn’t officially asked for my hand yet.” She added the last bit for the benefit of anyone eavesdropping. The ballroom was filled with Air Sensitives, who could, potentially, listen in to the slightest whispers even from the other side of the room.
“There is more to suitability than birth status,” Fredrick said. He took her arm as the music changed again to a waltz. “If you are not interested in dancing with Purchon, perhaps you would do me the honor?”
Mariana wrenched her arm out of his hand. “No. I have no intention of dancing with you. Don’t you have some woman more suitable to court?”
“I am not considering marriage to anyone at the moment. I serve at the pleasure of the Cognate Prince, and right now, I am trying to keep you from making a mistake that could cause embarrassment to the throne.”
“What kind of embarrassment?” Mariana narrowed her eyes. “Surely, you don’t believe the court gossip about what the unmarried Presumptives do when they go into town.”
Frederick blinked in surprise, and Mariana raised her eyebrows.
“You didn’t think I’d heard it?” She shook her head. “I am not a child anymore, Frederick, but you would be surprised at how many people forget that. Apparently, it is easy to ignore an Insensitive. People talk much more freely around me than perhaps they should.”
“What have you heard?”
With a sigh, Mariana took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. “Just disgusting speculation about what Darius and his friends do at the taverns at night. Dice, card games, and lots of drinking.” She shrugged. “I don’t see how any of this affects me.”
His eyes flicked to the people around them, and she followed his gaze. Several of the lesser nobles of the court had stopped their own conversations and were not hiding their interest in Mariana and Frederick’s.
“Let’s continue this somewhere a little more private,” Frederick said and took her arm.
She pulled away. “No, let’s not. I understand you are concerned but I questioned Darius…the Rieravo.” She met the eyes of the eavesdroppers. As she expected, most had the good sense to look chagrined and turn back to their companions.
“What did he tell you?” Frederick asked.
“He said some of the other Presumptives and younger sons enjoyed spending time with serving wenches and other women who…ply their trade at night.”
“And does the Rieravo of Mindenwall take part…I mean, approve of this?”
She shrugged. He hadn’t answered her when she asked that question, but she couldn’t tell that to Frederick.
“He doesn’t do that sort of thing.” Mariana couldn’t meet his eyes, so she found a spot of lace on her sleeve hem that needed her attention.
Frederick shook his head. “He’s out on the balcony, Progenna, but he’s not alone. There are two women with him. He may not be interested in shop clerks or tavern wenches, but there are commoners at court as well.”
Mariana’s heart began to beat so loudly she wondered, briefly, if Air or even Water Sensitives would hear it. “Only maids or those in the kitchen. Surely you don’t believe he would dally with the likes of them when he is practically promised to a daughter of the King?” She raised her head proudly.
“Promised, Progenna? Has there been an understanding?”
Everyone knew there hadn’t been one. Mariana clenched her jaw. Why was she letting him get to her like this? He might be Ramone’s Head of Household, but he had no say over her life.
“I am going to the balcony to get some fresh air,” she said, dropping into a curtsy. “It has suddenly become quite stuffy in here.”
Frederick did not bow, meaning he did not consider their conversation finished. “Progenna, I am only thinking of your welfare. The women with Darius are both daughters of minor nobles, with weak Sensitivities. I heard their laughter and some of their conversation. I promise you, you do not want to go out there. I would hate to see you humiliated.”
She bit back any response, for to answer him would mean he had the upper hand in this situation. She excused herself and brushed past him toward the curtained glass doors that led to the balcony.
Once outside, the chill night air drifted through Mariana’s light gown, and she shivered. No one else seemed to be out here, and she sighed in relief. Frederick was wrong. If Darius had been here, with or without companionship, he had probably gone back to the party through a different door.
As she turned to leave, she heard a deep chuckle coming from behind a row of tall potted rose bushes, heavy with enormous blooms. The male laughter was followed by a high feminine giggle.
Curious, Mariana followed the sound and stepped through the natural, fragrant, spicy curtain of Alexandria lilies, named for her mother.
The sight that greeted her caused her thoughts to freeze, and suddenly, her feet seemed glued to the spot.
Darius was, indeed, on the balcony, and, as Fredrick had said, he wasn’t alone. He sat on a stone bench with a woman on either side of him.
The woman on his left was Nicoletta, one of the Royal Princess’s ladies-in-waiting. Her blonde hair, which had been carefully arranged by Liliana’s own maid, was in disarray. That state was probably because Darius had his hand in her hair and had pulled her head toward his. Their lips were firmly pressed together. The second woman had her head on his shoulder.
“Darius?” Mariana’s voice sounded calmer than she expected, given her heart was racing.
The man in question lifted his head from Nicoletta’s mouth to look at the Progenna,
but other than that, he didn’t move.
Both women, however, gasped and tried to compose themselves.
“Mariana,” Darius said, scowling. “What are you doing here?”
“I…what’s going on?”
“It’s none of your business,” he said. “Why don’t you go back inside and dance with some foppish penniless fool who will be content to sit near you without touching?”
“What does that mean?” She stared at Nicoletta. “Will you compose yourself? At least for the time being, you still serve the Royal Princess.”
The woman bit her lip and spoke to Darius. “I should go. I cannot afford to lose this position.”
He shook his head slightly. “Don’t worry about it, Nico. She won’t fire you.”
“You dare to speak for my sister?” Mariana said, looking at him.
He nudged his other companion off the bench. She rushed to the balcony railing, avoiding Mariana’s eyes and refastening her bodice buttons.
“Why would the Royal Princess fire Nicoletta?” Darius asked, putting his arm around the distressed lady-in-waiting. “Are you going to tell your sister that she was kissing me?”
“I should.” The ground seemed to sway beneath Mariana’s feet, and she grasped a nearby column for support. Something in his voice caused her to tremble. He’d never spoken to her so coldly, without a trace of the affection he’d shown her in the past.
Darius continued, “Will you also tell the Queen and Royal Princess I need to kiss other women because you’re afraid to let me touch you?”
“I’m not afraid.” Mariana straightened her back and lifted her chin, wishing she were taller. “It just isn’t proper to engage in…those kinds of activities before we’re officially engaged.”
To her chagrin, he burst into laughter. “I’m sorry, Mari, but can you be that naïve? ‘Those kinds of activities,’ as you call them, are part of an adult relationship. You need to wake up and accept this.”
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