by John Moore
“Attendants? You mean the maids?”
“Oh dear me, no. I mean your ladies-in-waiting. Girls your age from the best families, here to put in a few years at the palace, get some court experience, and of course do a little husband-hunting of their own.”
All her life Caroline had heard of ladies-in-waiting. She hadn’t considered the possibility that she would actually have some. None of her plans had gone farther than the altar.
“Courtly life is not nearly as complex now as when I was a girl,” the Queen went on. “So many of the old traditions have been dropped, the old rules ignored. The pace of life is so much faster today, you see. No one has time to change clothes six times a day. Everyone is so intent on making money.”
“Yes, money,” said Caroline, struggling to get back to the subject. “What I was trying to get at is that you’re expecting to receive dowry from two sons. Does it really matter which two? If, merely as an example, I married Prince Jeffrey, you’d still collect dowry on Prince Hal and Prince Kenneth.”
“My dear girl, you make it sound as if the boys were being auctioned off.”
Caroline rolled her teacup between her palms. “Please believe me, Your Highness, when I say I mean no disrespect, but isn’t that pretty much what is happening?”
The Queen gave her a stern look, then relaxed. “I suppose there is some truth in that. But not all dowries are equal. A prince who is in line for the throne commands a higher price than a prince who is not.”
“But Prince Kenneth is the oldest son, isn’t he? Prince Jeffrey isn’t in line for the throne.”
“Oh no. By Melinower law and custom, the King chooses his own heir. So he can pick either Kenneth or Jeffrey, depending on who he thinks would make the better leader.”
“Then he could pick Hal?”
“Well, I suppose so,” said Queen Helen, a little sadly. “But he won’t. Hal and his father do not get along.”
“Yes, I gathered that.”
The Queen rose and crossed over to the window. She spent a moment looking at the trees in the courtyard below. “You may as well know the truth, Caroline. The royal family is in no small amount of debt. The King has already declared that the girl who marries Jeff or Kenny has to bring a substantial dowry. I don’t think he cares too much who Hal marries.”
Caroline, who knew enough to stand when the Queen stood, came up beside her. “That’s good actually. Because Hal doesn’t care too much for me. He’s really in love with Emily.”
The Queen faced her. “Emily? Your friend who was just here?”
“Oh yes. I’ve been watching them the whole trip here from Ripplebrook. They get along very well together. She’s bright and she’s educated, and she has property and some money. I’m willing to guess that she could put together a nice little dowry. And he’s definitely in love with her.”
“I do want Hal to be happy,” the Queen mused. “And since he was going to marry a commoner anyway . . . do you know for certain that she loves him?”
“Absolutely. She’s crazy about him. No question about it.”
No sooner were the words out of her mouth than they were interrupted by a scream from the courtyard below. The Queen threw open the window and leaned out for a better look. Caroline leaned out with her.
A very upset Emily was chasing Hal around the courtyard, whacking him with a broom.
Queen Helen looked at Caroline and raised her eyebrows.
“Also,” Caroline blurted out, “I can spin flax into gold.”
Kenny took off his helmet. “You know what your problem is, Jeff? Girl-wise, I mean.”
“I suppose that, once again, you’re going to expound on your theory that the best girls are attracted to the biggest jerks.”
Kenny was outside the stables, letting his squires remove his armor. As each piece came off it was given to one of the armorer’s boys for cleaning and polishing. Beneath the armor he wore not only a linen shirt and trousers, but also pads of wool felt over his shoulders and at other pressure points. All in all it had been hot workout, and the prince’s face and hair were wet with perspiration. A squire handed him a cloth, and he began toweling off.
“Or the biggest dweebs. I’ve had to refine my theory. Every time we send Hal off on a quest, he finds a different girl. Last time it was Rapunzel. This time he comes home with two. Before long he’ll be bringing them home in bunches, like grapes.”
“He didn’t bring Rapunzel home.”
“Of course not. He’s keeping her stashed away in that tower, where he can tap her at his leisure.”
“Now that’s ridiculous,” said Jeff. He thought for a minute. “You don’t really think that Hal . . . no. No way.”
“Think what you like. My point is that certain girls go for weeds like Hal. They call it the harmless look, the nonthreatening male. The girls who are intimidated by a strong, virile man—”
“You’re referring to yourself, no doubt.”
“Exactly. The girls who can’t handle a guy like me will go to the opposite extreme.”
“But most girls, you think, fall for arrogant jerks.”
“You call it arrogance, the girls call it confidence. But you, my brother, try to have it both ways, and it just doesn’t work. Too big and too strong to appeal to the ninnies. Too smart and too generous to appeal to the bimbos. Your style might get you in good with the Council of Lords, but it won’t get you anywhere with Caroline.” Kenny threw the towel aside, letting one of the squires pick it up. He inspected his lance, then handed it off for cleaning. “I’ll be using this one for the tournaments. Polish it up well and set it aside,” he told the squire.
Jeff was preparing for fencing practice of his own. He had his sword with him and pretended to inspect the scabbard. “Caroline?”
“The girl that released Hal from the spell.”
“Oh, was that her name?”
“If you haven’t seen her, you have to get a look at her, Jeff. I tell you, Hal knows how to get himself rescued. That girl is one great piece of ass.”
Jeff had his back to Kenny. He gritted his teeth, then he forced himself into a look of unconcern before he faced his brother. “Now, don’t be disrespectful to the girl, Kenny. She’s going to be a princess soon, remember.”
“Oh, come off it. Don’t tell me your blood didn’t start pumping when you saw that blonde. A great pair of knockers, lips that can suck the—”
“Kenny!”>
“Hey, calm down, Jeff. I just want to tell you that after the jousting tournaments that girl will be mine. She’s exactly the type that goes for good-looking guys. The only thing they like better than a handsome man is a handsome man on horseback.”
Jeff considered a few remarks about the back end of a horse, but couldn’t put anything together in time to make it sound snappy.
“They like it when a guy is a winner,” Kenny continued. He sat down and let a squire pull off his riding boots. “Especially when the other girls in the crowd are cheering him on. Women always want what other women have. Even Hal knows that. Did you know he put himself in the lists for the tournaments this year?”
“The girl has no dowry, Kenny. You marry her, you’ve given up the throne as far as Dad is concerned. Leave her to Hal.”
Kenny grinned again. “Who said anything about marrying her? I’m still working on that rich little duchess who has the hots for me.”
“The fat one? You’re not even promised to her, and already you’re planning to cheat on her.”
“It’s not like I love her. And she doesn’t love me. She knows it would be a political marriage. Women expect that sort of thing.”
“You know, Kenny, that would almost sound reasonable, coming from anyone but you. If you found a wife who was beautiful, loyal, and desperately in love with you, you’d still cheat on her.”
Kenny buttoned his tunic. “Fortunately for you, Jeff, you will be able to marry anyone you want. And so will I. I have a plan to get us out of debt.”
“Uh-oh.” Je
ff leaned against the wall and regarded his brother suspiciously. “I think your last plan to get us out of debt was to go to war. You talked Dad into going before the Council of Lords and asking for a declaration.”
“War is the standard solution for a country in financial straits.”
“The country isn’t in financial straits. Just us.”
“As you unnecessarily pointed out to the Council. But Jeffrey, my lad, I have another idea, and the laws back me up a hundred percent on this one. It is the most traditional way for a royal family to dispose of its debts, and the Council can’t do a thing about it. Dad will name me his heir. Then you, Jeffrey, can marry anyone you want, with or without a dowry. That will be my gift to you. But don’t pin your hopes on that blonde. I have an eye on her myself.”
“I’m overwhelmed by your generosity. And just what is this traditional method by which the King can absolve himself of debt?”
“We expel the Jews,” said Prince Kenny.
Jeff stomped up the outside stairs that led to the Melinower Palace royal suites. He had spent an hour working off his anger by hacking at padded equipment with a sharp sword and battering away at sparring partners with a blunt sword. But he still burned with an inner fury, a fury caused by the knowledge of an upcoming injustice. An injustice, Jeff thought, that he would be powerless to prevent.
Not that he wouldn’t try, of course. He’d go to the Council of Lords. If anyone in the family had influence with the Council, it was Jeff. But Jeff knew he didn’t have all that much influence. Mostly the Council trusted him to try to keep the King from getting deeper into debt. That didn’t mean they’d be willing to overrule an expulsion order against the Jews. Especially, as Jeff suspected, if his father and brother were willing to cut the Lords in for a piece of the action.
So he was preoccupied with dark thoughts as he went up the stairs and thus he didn’t see Caroline coming down until he nearly bumped into her. This did have a cheering effect. For most men, getting close enough to bump into a girl like Caroline would be the high point of the afternoon. Actually bumping into her would be cause for a holiday.
“Hi,” said Caroline, giving Jeff a cheery smile. She slid to one side, giving Jeff room to pass her. But not as much room as she could have, letting him brush her as he went by.
“Hello,” he said, and debated whether to say more. Jeff had discovered at lunch that, the more he spoke to Caroline, the better he liked her. And that was not a good thing to feel about a girl who supposed to marry one’s brother. He decided to keep walking up the stairs.
Caroline, who had been coming down, turned and followed him. “I was looking for Prince Hal’s room,” she said.
“It’s up here,” said Jeff. “The big windows on the other side of the terrace. He’s not here, now. He went into the city with Emily.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. I wanted to talk to him.”
“You can come back later, if you don’t see him at dinner. He likes to come out in the evening and look at the ships in the harbor.” Jeff took another step up the stairs. Caroline took one with him. She seemed in no hurry to end the conversation. Jeff stopped and looked at her.
In the world that Jeff lived in, there were only two kinds of princes. You were either a noble prince, or an evil prince. Later generations would have to deal with things like antiheroes and situational ethics, but these were simpler times, and Jeff had long ago made up his mind that he was going to be the noble prince type. And noble princes did not steal their brother’s girlfriends.
Okay, it was true that Caroline hadn’t seemed too enthused about marrying Hal. Nor did it seem to bother her that he was on his way into town with another girl. It was pretty clear that she didn’t think Hal was handsome enough for her. Jeff could understand that. A lot of girls felt that way about Hal. Most of them, in fact. All of them, actually, at least so far as Jeff knew. But to Jeff, that was all the more reason he shouldn’t steal his brother’s girl. Being better-looking was just an unfair advantage. On the other hand, she never said she didn’t want to marry Hal. Not to Jeff, anyway.
Besides, there was nothing he could do with her, even if Hal wasn’t an issue. Marriage was out of the question: She was just a commoner, and there was the dowry issue. Sure, he could attempt to have a fling with her—there were plenty of girls in the kingdom who would jump at the chance to have a fling with a prince. But Caroline had made it pretty clear she was in for the long haul. To mislead her would definitely not be noble.
So the best thing to do was to bid her good day and continue walking away. But that plan had a flaw also. Caroline had the loveliest eyes that Jeff had ever seen. They were big, they were wide-open, she was looking right at him, and Jeff could almost feel the various lobes of his brain shutting down. He tried dropping his gaze away from her eyes, but that meant he was staring at her breasts, which were no less appealing, albeit in a different way. And staring there was ungentlemanly besides, so he looked at her face again. A breeze was coming in off the harbor, causing her hair to ripple, and waves of light shimmered on the soft strands.
“Is something wrong?”
“No,” said Jeff. For a moment he considered telling her about Kenny’s plan. He knew, from her stories about finding the frog, that she was a clever and practical girl, and she was easy to talk to. But he wasn’t ready to divulge state secrets to her. “Nothing’s wrong.”
“In that case,” said Caroline, “I wonder if I might ask you a favor?”
“Go ahead.”
“Last night we stayed at an inn called the Bull and Badger. I need to return there, but I don’t think I can find my way through the city.”
“I don’t know it, but I can find out where it is.”
“Could you possibly see your way clear to escorting me there?”
This, Jeff knew, was impossible. It was not good to spend time with his brother’s beautiful girlfriend. It was certainly not good to spend time with his brother’s beautiful girlfriend when Jeff felt the way he did about his brother’s beautiful girlfriend. It would certainly not do to be seen going into an inn with his brother’s beautiful girlfriend. Jeff could snap his fingers, and any one of a dozen servants would appear who could be counted on to prepare a coach and take the future princess anywhere she wanted. There was no need for Jeff to get involved and risk causing trouble.
“I’d love to,” he said.
The afternoon sun was warm and bright, the tournaments were bringing visitors into the city, and the streets were crowded with shoppers. Emily and Hal sat on the second level of a tea shop, whose open windows let them enjoy both the sights and sounds of the busy street below. They each had a glass of wine. Emily did not particularly like wine, but her mother had taught her it was an upscale thing to drink, and she had better get used to it.
She sketched out her plans to Hal. “It’s common for sorcerers to loan out their apprentices for a year or so. It gives the apprentice experience that maybe he couldn’t get with his own master. Torricelli was very big on alchemy, and Mummy wanted me to learn it. She thought chemicals were the wave of the future.”
“Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay. I think Mummy would have changed her mind about him anyway if she’d known he was kidnapping girls. Anyway, while a sorcerer might take you on loan, it’s a lot more difficult to find one who will take over your apprenticeship. Generally they want an apprentice who has been with them right from the beginning. And even when they do let you into their program, there’s always a hassle about transferring all your credits.”
It was her first time alone with Hal since the night in the forest. Of course, they were surrounded by people now, so she wasn’t really alone with him, but that was not important. The important thing was that Caroline wasn’t there.
Emily was on her way to see another sorcerer. Hal had offered to show her a bit of the city first, and Emily had accepted. It had been one of the most pleasant outings she could remember—Hal seemed to know everyone, from the richest lor
d to the humblest dishwasher, and everyone seemed glad to see Hal. They had gone to the wharves, where Emily admired the elegant tall ships with their webs of shrouds and lines. She watched the sailors in their loose canvas trousers, held up with elaborately knotted belts of rope. “I just noticed,” she told Hal. “You dress sort of like a sailor.”
“I was a naval cadet,” said Hal. “Melinower tradition. We all have commissions. The first son joins the Royal Guard, the second son joins the army, the third son joins the navy.”
“So that’s why Kenny and Jeff wear those jackets with the gold braid.”
“Yep.”
“What if there’s a fourth son? No, let me guess. He enters the clergy, right?”
“Nope. He signs on with a discount travel agency. Very handy guy to know, especially for those last-minute deals on cruise ships.”
“No doubt.” Emily had toured the university, with its vast and fascinating library. She had been to a print shop and seen glowing ladles of molten lead poured into the molds, and the printer’s devils, hands and faces black with ink, setting type as fast as she could read.
They had passed a deserted building, austere but elegant. “The Assassins’ Guild,” Hal explained.
“You’re kidding,” said Emily, who had heard of the Assassins’ Guild, but didn’t believe it.
“Why do you say that?”
“I always thought the Assassins’ Guild was a legend. I mean, it just seemed ridiculous, that people would tolerate a bunch of murderers in their midst, openly soliciting business.”
“You’re right, it is ridiculous, and it didn’t exist for real. The King set that up, and staffed it with a bunch of Guards. Whenever someone came in trying to hire an assassin, or join the assassins, the Guards would beat the stuffing out of him, warn him to stay out of trouble, and throw him out on his ear. The crime rate plummeted for a while, until word got around. I have to admit,” the Prince finished, a little grudgingly, “Dad does have some good ideas.”
