by N M Zoltack
“Too many women to kiss before I settle on only one for the rest of my days.” Tiberius puffed out his chest. “How many ladies have you kissed?”
Noll tried to count in his head. “Five. No, six. I think.”
“Six ladies? All nobles?” Tiberius seemed impressed.
“Yes. They were visiting my family. I kissed their hands.”
“Nowhere else?” the guard asked.
“No.” Noll shook his head.
The guard began to laugh, and Noll couldn’t help feeling embarrassed, although why he was embarrassed he wasn’t quite sure. He hated when he felt as if he was missing something.
Tiberius set a swifter pace back to the castle than he had directed toward the marketplace. He probably doesn’t want to spend any more time watching me. Noll grimaced. He loathed feeling as if he were a burden to people. He didn’t need to be watched every moment of the day, no matter what his sisters thought. They didn’t have chaperones all of the time even though they were supposed to. Why should he be guarded and not them? He was the prince! He should be able to do whatever he wanted.
Once they entered the castle, Noll darted away from the guard. He hoped he didn’t see the pox-faced, mousy brown-haired, watery-eyed guard anytime soon. Noll had determined that he didn’t like Tiberius Davis, not one little bit.
Noll rounded the corner and slammed into a man. “Oomph!”
“Watch where you are—Prince Noll. Forgive me. I did not mean to get in your way.”
The man Noll had plowed into bowed before him. He was tall, like Tiberius, but his blond hair was slicked back. His face was cleanly shaven. His lips twisted into a smirking smile. His nose wasn’t too large, but his dark eyes were massive. Noll got the feeling that this man didn’t miss much.
“Do I know you?” Noll asked, confused. He didn’t think he had seen this man before, but he might’ve. The man did know Noll’s name. Then again, most everyone in the castle knew Noll was the prince.
“Perhaps we haven’t been formally introduced. I am your father’s advisor, Aldus Perez.” The man bowed for a second time.
Noll stared at the man, confused. The advisor’s voice was familiar. The prince knew that he knew Aldus Perez somehow but couldn’t remember from where.
The prince nodded to the advisor. “It is good to meet you. Nice to meet you. Ah, I should be going. Take care.”
Noll dashed away. He didn’t want to get in trouble for running, but he was going to stay in his room for the rest of the day. He was being far too clumsy, and he didn’t want to run into anyone else or trip anyone else. He really hoped that if he had damaged anything that the merchant would let him know. Noll felt terrible. He had almost ruined the man’s stall and then to learn that the people were talking badly about the queen. It was all too much especially since Noll hadn’t intended for the guard to fall into the stall in the first place.
It’s Tiberius’s fault for being so tall.
But trying to shift the blame didn’t make Noll feel any better. If anything, it only made him feel worse.
8
Servant Ulric Cooper
The sun beat against Ulric Cooper as the servant chopped and hacked at more and more wood. Although winter was not nearly upon them, they needed great fires to cook the meals. Ulric was only eighteen years old and the strongest servant by far. As such, he had the honor of providing all of the wood every day throughout the year.
Then, he had to cart it into the kitchens. The fires were always blasting in both rooms. Half of the chef’s face had been burned way years ago. All in all, the chef was a decent enough man. A bit of a grouch at times and he had a tendency to yell but only at the scullery workers. Never at Ulric, not once. Ulric made sure he was at least three days ahead in wood supplies.
That chore accomplished for the day, Ulric made his way through the castle. He would find the butler and see what else he could do. Ulric wasn’t paid much, but he most certainly wasn’t paid to stand around and do nothing.
A few voices caught Ulric’s ears. He should have kept walking. He was a servant. He had no business listening to other people’s conversations whether they be royals, nobles, or even other servants. Still, he hesitated. The sun had stolen more energy from him than normal, and he welcomed the excuse to take a slight respite.
The room the voices came from was one of the many tea rooms. A man and a woman were talking. The man sounded older. Maybe not that much older than him actually, Ulric realized as the man spoke more.
The woman sounded around their age or perhaps a little younger. Her voice was like that of a bell, sweet and high, and Ulric had to shift his positioning slightly so that he might peek into the room and see her.
Ulric gasped when his gaze fell on the woman. She was none other than Princess Rosalynne. He had never seen the princess up close before. Her hair was as black as a raven’s feathers, and her eyes were like twin dark orbs that threatened to drown him. Her dress seemed simple enough, purple with gold trim along the edges and a gold geometric pattern along the waist and down the center of the skirt. Matching gold slippers peeked from beneath her skirt. She sat stiffly on a high-backed chair. Did she not like the man she was addressing? A suitor perhaps?
“The king must reconsider,” the princess was saying.
“The king’s word is law.” The man held up his hands. “What would you have me do?”
“Your job,” Rosalynne said dryly. “You are his royal advisor. Advise him.”
Ah, so this man must be Aldus Perez. While Ulric normally kept his nose to his work, he did know the names of most every noble and certainly all of the royals. He just couldn’t necessarily recognize their faces. But Rosalynne’s face was like that of an angel’s. Ulric could hardly look away from her.
“I can try to talk to him again, but I do not know if what you wish is possible,” the advisor said.
Foolish man. Do all that she asks of you!
“The king cannot have the queen sentenced to die!” Rosalynne cried. Her bosom heaved, and Ulric forced himself to glance away.
“Ah, yes, because then rumors will start that the king is a wife killer,” the advisor said.
Was he mocking the princess? How terribly cruel.
“What he is known as is not my concern,” Rosalynne said. “What concerns me is the queen’s life.”
“You should worry about how the people see your father. I am the king’s advisor, yes, but I can advise you too. Heed my words. How the public perceives you is more important. If they think you are powerful, you are. If they think you weak and vulnerable, you are that instead.”
“Do the people think my father vulnerable?”
The advisor hesitated. “That I cannot say.”
“Does anyone?” she pressed.
The advisor opened his mouth.
She held up her hand. “That is not why I asked you to talk with me. I wish for you to find a way to spare the queen.”
“You do not even like her.”
Rosalynne appraised him and shook her head. “I have never said that to you.”
“No, but you did not need to.”
Ulric moved on. He had heard enough to realize that the advisor thought himself far more knowledgeable than he truly was. Rosalynne was the antithesis of the man. While he seemed to be willing to force others to do his bidding, to use people, Rosalynne was strong and kind. Even Ulric and the other servants had learned about the queen’s betrayal. There was nothing worse than a spouse could do than to betray his or her wife or husband. Nothing worse. It was unconscionable. Inexcusable. Unforgivable.
And yet, Rosalynne wanted to spare the queen’s life for hurting her father so. For making their family look poorly. For giving the people a reason to mock them. Not that Ulric had or that any of the servants working in the castle had either. But in the marketplace, Ulric had heard some of the chatter, and it was not kind in the least.
It did surprise Ulric slightly that none of the people were blaming the king any. Ulric should
n’t judge the king at all, and perhaps the peasants hadn’t because they had not seen the king in so long. But Ulric had. And the king was not in the best of health. He could hardly walk. He ate and ate and ate. He did little else. Truly, he did not rule. Ulric wasn’t sure who was. The advisor? Rosalynne? The queen? Surely not the queen any longer if she had been at all. That should be stripped of her.
But not her life, at least not if Rosalynne had her way. How interesting that she would choose mercy. Was it because of the baby? Did it matter?
One day, Rosalynne would be queen, and Ulric found himself realizing what exactly he wished to do not only that afternoon but for the rest of his life.
He wished he could rise above his status as a servant and become one of her guards.
Ulric slipped away and rushed back to the kitchen. While the chef dictated orders for the scullery maids, Ulric seized a knife and slid through the back door. In the shadows of the nearby trees, Ulric stabbed and arced the knife, pretending it to be a sword so that he might start training. If he could not teach himself how to use the sword, then no one would. No proper sword master would ever dare teach a mere servant the art of sword play. Ulric would have to do as he could, and maybe one day, he could find a way to prove his worth.
9
Rase Ainsley
The sound of dry heaving woke Rase. It was dark out, and he blinked, trying to see in the dim space. His parents were sleeping, and his sister wasn’t here.
Confused, wondering if the noise had only been a dream, Rase left the house. There was his sister, bent over. Her limp hair fell forward.
Rase slinked back to his spot on the floor where he slept. His sister wouldn’t appreciate it if she knew he had seen her. Rase hated dry heaving. It had been a few weeks since he last had, back when food had been even harder to come by. That was when he started to eat worms again. The bile burned his throat too badly, so terribly that he had a hoarse voice for a few days afterward.
If Leanne was dry heaving, she had too little food. Rase knew his sister wouldn’t eat worms. Maybe he could travel farther away, find some bushes that had a few berries left for her. His sister was just like their ma. She wouldn’t take from Rase’s portion. He could do with less, though, if they would only let him. Well, a little less. When you only had five bites to go around for four people, it wasn’t enough for any one of them.
Rase tossed and turned, unable to fall back asleep. When the sun rose, he darted out of the house before his parents could tell him to stick nearby. Pa especially had been telling Rase and Leanne to lay low. Rase thought that might have something to do with the gambling, but he wasn’t sure.
If he couldn’t find any berries, maybe Rase should follow his pa and learn about the gambling. Rase figured it couldn’t hurt any. Their pa wouldn’t do anything dangerous.
The day was already hot, and Rase shivered despite sweating. He readied to jump over a puddle and landed square in the middle. Water splashed onto his feet and bare ankles. His pants were too short.
For a moment, Rase stood there, gazing at his wavering reflection in the water. He looked just like his pa with gray hair and thin blond hair. Leanne looked more like their ma.
“Pa does his best for us,” Rase muttered. “I will too.”
But he didn’t move from the spot, his thoughts churning. It wasn’t often that Rase allowed himself time to just think, but he was now, and the more he thought, the more furious he became. He kicked the water.
So many had food to the point of excess. So many had clothes that actually fit. So many had a house that was actually filled with things, with furniture. They didn’t even have a pot to piss in. They had to leave the house and urinate in the woods.
“It’s not like I’m lazy,” Rase mumbled as he finally moved forward. He ducked beneath a low branch and hesitated there, hunched over. “Other boys my age are training to be knights or tradesmen or apprentices. Why can’t I study and learn? I’m not stupid.”
But it wasn’t about smarts, studying to become an artisan or a master, and Rase knew it. Masters only taught students if they were paid for it, and Rase had nothing to offer a master in return for his knowledge.
Which meant there was no true way for Rase to better his life or the lives of his family.
No. Rase refused to accept that. He would find a way. Each day, he would try. If he failed, he would try again. Failing just meant he hadn’t found his path yet, but there had to be a better path for him than hunting for worms.
So determined was he to find food for his sister that Rase did not return to the shack that served as their house until nightfall. He didn’t even want to return, but his stomach forced himself too. For the last bit of the trek, he had to crawl on his hands and knees, too weak to walk. Who was he fooling? No master would want to teach Rase even if he could offer a token in return. Rase was too weak and broken. Life had wrecked him.
Worse, he returned empty-handed.
Leanne noticed him first and rushed out of the house. Despite the faint stains of her dry heaving on her shirt, she was surprisingly strong as she gripped him beneath his armpit and dragged him up to his feet.
“Where were you all day?” she demanded angrily.
Rase couldn’t bear to see the fury in her eyes and stared at the grass.
“You should’ve told me,” Leanne scolded.
He shrugged.
With a sigh, she released him. “Rase…”
He hated that Leanne was so much taller than he was. Yes, she was older, but some boys were tall. His one-time friend Duncan had always been a full head taller than Rase even though Duncan was a year younger than Rase.
But he glanced up at her now. Leanne was staring off into the distance. Her shoulders were slumped. She was all skin and bones.
A faint breeze stirred her hair, and she brushed it away impatiently.
Rase gripped her wrist and stared at her fingernails. They were dirty.
He raised his eyebrows but said nothing.
“I found a nest of baby hares,” Leanne explained hastily.
Rase’s jaw dropped, but Leanne didn’t seem all that happy about her discovery.
“A dog came and killed them. It ran off with them. All of them.” Leanne rubbed her arms. “It’s cold out, isn’t it?”
“Bitterly,” Rase agreed even though it was a lie. He used her coldness as an excuse to wrap his arm around her.
She leaned her head against his. “What are we going to do?” she said so softly Rase almost thought he imagined her talking.
“We’ll survive,” he said.
Leanne at first started to pull away, but then she surprised Rase by hugging him tighter. He couldn’t recall the last time they hugged.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
Leanne buried her face into his neck. Her body shook. It took him a moment to realize she was crying even though when she finally stepped back, no water had left her eyes.
“What happened?” Rase asked. His heartrate sped up, and he began to worry that her dry heaving hadn’t been from hunger after all.
“It’s nothing.” Leanne took another step back toward the house. “We should go inside.”
He grabbed her wrist. “Tell me.”
“There’s nothing to tell,” she said bitterly.
“I hate it when you lie,” he grumbled. “I spent all day trying to find you some food and—”
“You did?” she asked softly, but she didn’t seem any happier.
“I did. Just like you did with the baby hares.”
“I wasn’t looking for food,” Leanne murmured.
“Then what were you trying to find?” Rase asked, confused.
“Maxene.” Leanne whirled around and entered their house.
Maxene Byron was Leanne’s only friend. The girl had tried to find employment and failed. She tried to hang around taverns, looking for a man to take care of her. Leanne never did that. She knew better because if their ma or pa ever found out, Leanne would be dead.
Rase slowly entered the house. In the morning, he would try to find some food and Maxene. He just hoped he didn’t find Maxene’s body.
10
Princess Rosalynne Rivera
The months passed by slowly, and Rosalynne did her best to keep the damage to a minimum. She did not know what to think of the queen for allowing such a thing to happen. How could anyone dare to even contemplate cheating on a king? It did not matter that the king was not necessarily the most appealing of men. Even Rosalynne could admit that. But to dishonor the crown, to slander the throne, all of that infuriated Rosalynne.
So why did she fight to keep the woman alive?
Because everyone made mistakes, and Rosalynne knew better than to assume that she would not commit some errors herself. If the people could see that she was willing to forgive, maybe they would then be able to forgive Rosalynne when her time came.
She was in her bed, turning this way and that, trying to become comfortable when a soft knock sounded at her door.
She sat up and rubbed her eyes. Two hours had passed since she had first climbed into bed, and she had not slept a single moment.
“Come in,” she called as she reached to light a candle.
Before she had, her maid opened the door, carrying a large lit candle that engulfed the large room with light. Rosalynne lifted her arm to ward off the brightness.
“What is it?” she asked.
“It is the queen. It is time. She asked for you to be there.”
The maid hesitated, and Rosalynne eyed the woman a moment before climbing out of bed.
“She did not ask for my father to be present, did she?”
The maid shook her head. She darted to Rosalynne’s side and draped a robe over the lightweight gown she wore to sleep in.
