by Sheela Word
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On another day, eight years later, Prince Mark left Court, to study abroad at the University of Sautegna. His large family watched him board the ship, then returned home in good spirits, for though they would miss their kinsman, ‘twas a bright summer day, the carriage ride was pleasant, and they looked forward to their dinner. Only Theresa was downcast: the Prince was her favorite cousin and had long been her sole companion.
Like Theresa, Mark was bespectacled and very fair. The two were doubly cousins, for their mothers were sisters; and they resembled each other in temperament, as well as in person. Indeed, the Princess viewed Mark as a brother, and preferred him to her brother, Hugo, who was a bold and boisterous lad four years junior to herself.
Theresa was pale and small, with fine, light hair that fell untidily out of its snood. Her large green eyes were short-sighted and hidden by a heavy pair of spectacles. In demeanor, she seemed older than her years, for she seldom laughed or smiled, but dedicated herself with great ferocity to any project she had in hand.
The sociability of her family was an affliction to her. She had a scholarly bent and was oft to be found poring over a book or manuscript. Yet her tutors did not love her, for her manner was distant and her knowledge sometimes outstripped their own. They deemed her odd and uncivil, and in private, compared her unfavorably to her cousin Bess, a robust and rosy maiden with ebon curls and a ready smile.
Court was ever lively and clamorous. King Walter’s three brothers, Antoine, Hadrian, and Jack, dwelt at the palace, and his sister Emilia spent several months of each year at Court. The royal cousins numbered twelve: Bertram was the first child of the King and Queen, William came second, and Mark was third; Theresa and her younger brother, Hugo, were sired by Prince Antoine; Bess, Charles, and Ronald were the issue of Prince Hadrian; Colin and Helena (who was yet a babe in arms), were fathered by Prince Jack; and Horatio and Julian were the sons of Princess Emilia.
Now, as they sat down to dinner in the Great Hall, Horatio tipped a pot of fish sauce into Princess Theresa’s lap. His mother scolded him, but the rest of the assembly laughed heartily.
“‘Twas full of ginger,” jested Prince Jack, the King’s youngest brother. “A hot sauce for a cold maiden.”
A servant brought a cloth, and Theresa dabbed at her gown for a moment, then left the table. The company thought she meant to change her soiled gown, but she turned her steps not to the bedchamber that she shared with her cousin, Bess, but to a much larger chamber in the East wing of the palace.
The armory was quiet and seldom-frequented. Indeed, many courtiers did not even know of it. Although the kingdom had been peaceful for many years, its borders were vigilantly guarded, and a group of blacksmiths had been charged with maintaining the arsenal of weapons that now surrounded Theresa. She could have described in detail the function of each tool or piece of armor in the chamber, for she and Mark had made a study of such matters, but she did not consider these objects now, and only wondered how much time would pass ere she was discovered and interrupted by some member of her family.
“I too shall go to Sautegna,” she thought. “As soon as ever I may. I shall study mathematics, mayhap, and optics (‘tis a new science), and philosophy of course. I shall journey next summer, if Father grants me leave.”
She brushed past a longsword that hung precariously from a nail, and sat down on a wooden stool, next to a suit of armor. Beside the stool was a large bronze casket, ornately carved and painted. She lifted its lid and retrieved a tome entitled “On Parity and Prosperity.” Sighing contentedly, she began to read.
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Nine months passed. Summer gave way to autumn, autumn to winter, and winter to spring. On the first warm day of May, a flock of wrynecks, winging from tropical climes, dropped down upon the royal orchard and dislodged the native wildfowl from their holes. ‘Twas an affront that was repeated every year, but only the gardener knew of it.
Theresa was in the armory, attempting to write a letter to Mark. She had placed a writing slope atop the casket, and positioned her wooden stool to face it. The parchment lay ready before her, and the quill was full of ink, but she hesitated, not knowing what to set down.
Mark’s last letter, received some three months past, had been addressed to his father and mother, and had seemed unlike him. He had spoken not of his studies, but of friends and companions, new fashions in dress, the paltry meals that were served at his lodgings, the better fare to be had at a nearby tavern, and, disturbingly, of a sword fight between some boisterous students and the town rabble. He had closed with a plea that a purse of gold be sent to him as soon as may be, for, he said, his expenses were heavier than had been anticipated.
“Good Cousin, I pray this finds thee well,” Theresa wrote, and then bethought her of a project that was currently engaging much of her time. She was working with one of the Court blacksmiths to transmute various metals into lodestars. Though as yet they had succeeded only with iron, an account of their trials might be of interest to Mark.
She bent her quill to paper and began describing this work. Ere she had written more than two lines, a serving lad entered the armory, and bade her come forthwith to the Great Hall. The lad was in a state of excitement, but Theresa paid him little heed, and after vowing that she would come presently, turned again to her missive.
Ten minutes passed, and then a sudden cough broke the silence of the large chamber. The Princess raised her head and saw two noblemen standing by the open door. Both were tall and elegantly attired. The dark one wore a velvet cloak of deep purple and a black velvet chapeau with an ostrich plume. The fair one was clad all in forest-green, from his satin mantle to his tapered breeches. Foreigners both, by the look of them, and yet there was ought about the man in green that seemed familiar….
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