Royal Rescue

by A. Alex Logan

  You can travel with me! We’ll be starting at the same time, remember, even though I’m three whole weeks older than you (youngin’!). You’re lucky your birthday is the last day of the month; you can start right away. I’ve been sitting around twiddling my thumbs for weeks, waiting for the first of next month to come around.

  But look, we can start together; I’ll keep you from falling off a cliff or getting eaten by a dragon, and you can keep me from starving to death.

  Sound good?

  Erick

  Gerald smiled at the idea of traveling the Thousand Kingdoms with Erick—it would certainly be fun at least for a while—but the underlying problem would still be there. He might be able to get away with not truly questing for a while, but sooner or later Erick would complete his quest and rescue a spouse, and Gerald had no illusions about his ability to survive a quest alone. Not to mention the pesky fact that eventually Gerald would be expected to return home with a spouse, too.

  A false quest would delay the inevitable, but that’s all it would be: a delay. Gerald started to pen a reply to Erick saying as much when the original scroll chirped and went blank. Gerald let a large drop of ink splash on the parchment and within moments it began to spread out into a spidery line of text.

  The two-way parchment was Erick’s own invention and he was very proud of it. The spell was keyed to the recipient, too; with this piece of parchment, only Erick and Gerald would be able to write back and forth. For anyone else, it would act like regular paper.

  So, meathead? Ready to be less meatheaded?

  Gerald wrote back.

  It won’t work.

  What do you mean, it won’t work? Of course it will work. No one will find out it’s a fake.

  Until I come home without a spouse.

  Ah. You mean it won’t work long term. Well…you know, you might change your mind. If you meet a few eligible princesses—or princes—or princexes—you may decide marriage isn’t so awful after all.

  I’m not going to change my mind.

  Well, Gerald, I hate to break it to you, but your parents are not going to let you sit this out. To be honest, I doubt they’re going to let you sit marriage out. Wouldn’t it be better to have some fun with me first?

  Maybe “better” isn’t good enough.

  Meathead.

  Spellbrain.

  Well, I tried. And if I starve to death, it’ll be on your head.

  Pack a lot of journey bread.

  A knock on the door drew Gerald’s attention away from the scroll.

  I have to go.

  He scrawled it quickly and then lifted the corner weights. The scroll would erase itself in a few minutes unless he used the bead to archive the conversation. I don’t think this one needs to be archived, he thought wryly.

  He opened the door and blinked in surprise to see Queen Mixte standing there.

  “May I come in, Gerald?” she asked.

  “You never come here,” he said, but he stepped aside to let her pass, too surprised to say no.

  “I wanted to talk to you privately. I thought, perhaps, without you and your mother butting heads, I might be able to help sort things out.”

  Gerald turned away from her serene smile to pace around the room. “There’s nothing to sort out. You two want me to participate in this ridiculous tradition and I don’t care to. You two want me to get married and I don’t care to.”

  “Yes, but Gerald, why don’t you care to?”

  He turned back to face her. She seemed genuinely interested in his response, and her expression was as calm and warm as ever. Unlike his mother, Queen Mixte never turned to ice.

  “I…” he trailed off.

  “Many young people are worried about marriage,” she said gently. “Pre-quest nerves have rattled many a royal. But nerves can be overcome, my dear. And the reward at the end is worth it.”

  “But don’t you get it? For me, marriage isn’t a reward. Being stuck with someone, tied to someone I don’t even know, a stranger, for the rest of my life? That’s supposed to be a reward?”

  “They won’t be a stranger. That’s the point of these quests, Gerald. For the royalty of the Thousand Kingdoms to become friends and more.”

  “It seems an awfully circuitous way to do so,” he grumbled. “I mean, if you’re questing, you have to go to desert after swamp after mountain, trying to find the right royal to rescue. And the one being rescued has to sit and wait and wait and wait. How many other people do they really meet?”

  “Through portfolios and signposts and correspondence? Dozens.”

  “In person.”

  “I believe the average is five.”

  “All this nonsense to meet five people?” he yelped, throwing his hands up in frustration.

  “The circumstances forge bonds,” Queen Mixte said serenely. “The couple is much more devoted than if they met at a simple ball, where neither one would have to prove their worth or endure a wait. The rescuers form deep bonds with each other by helping fellow questers over obstacles or by working together to best a guardian. And the rescuees all have a deep well of common experience to draw on, to make them more sympathetic with each other and engender more cordial relations between kingdoms. You know all this, Gerald, and you know it works. It’s worked for hundreds of years.”

  “I don’t want to forge bonds, Mum!” he burst out. “I’m not suited for marriage. I’m not suited for a relationship. I’m not Lila! I’m not Erick, I’m not you or Mother.”

  Queen Mixte tilted her head and looked at Gerald as if she were actually listening. His heart lifted slightly as she asked, “Why do you think that?”

  “I’ve never—I’ve never wanted to be with anyone,” he said, crossing his arms defensively. “Lila’s had crushes, Erick’s had crushes. I’ve never looked at anyone and felt my heart flutter. I’m never going to. I don’t want to marry someone I don’t love, and I don’t think I can love anyone.”

  “You love us. Your mother, and me, and even Lila, as much as you two bicker. You love Erick. Of course you’re capable of love.”

  But Gerald shook his head miserably. “That’s different. I don’t think I can love anyone the way you love Mother, or the way James and Vani love their spouses.”

  “You’re still young,” she said gently. “You’ll grow from this experience. You’ll mature, and you’ll find love. Everyone does.”

  She gave him a kiss on the forehead. “You’ll be fine, my dear. But please—make a decision before your mother makes one for you.”

  And with that, she swept out of the room.

  Gerald sat down heavily on his bed.

  Even when they’re listening, they don’t really hear me.

  Chapter Two

  GERALD WOULDN’T—COULDN’T—make any decision other than the one he’d already declared. The deadline was hanging over his head and Erick’s offer was looking increasingly tempting. But he was determined not to simply postpone the problem, but to deal with it in the here and now. I can’t have this looming over me forever.

  He pored through the books and scrolls in the library, examining royal genealogies and histories from before and after the Thousand Kingdoms had united. He was looking for a precedent. If I can find another royal who has refused…then they’ll see it’s not simply me having a tantrum.

  But he came up empty again and again.

  He wrote to Erick, asking his cousin to check his library. Rather than spending three days poring over books, Erick wrote a search spell and set it loose in the library. Once the dust, both literal and metaphorical, had settled—and after the furious librarian had banned Erick for life—he wrote back that he, too, had found nothing.

  Leave off this idea. You’re not going to find a precedent, and even if you do, it’s going to be ancient enough your parents won’t care. Change tacks. Offer alternatives. What are you going to do with your life instead?

  Gerald realized he had no idea. He hadn’t thought beyond trying to avoid spouse-hunting, beyond avoidi
ng a marriage he couldn’t envision as anything other than an awkward sham.

  What am I going to do with my life?

  Gerald had never given much thought to his adult life before. He’d had the usual lessons given to royal offspring—everything from swordplay to diplomacy—but he wasn’t the heir and he wasn’t ever likely to use them. He was no warrior, no knight; no brilliant strategist or tactician; no silver-tongued diplomat. He was…just Gerald.

  He had dabbled in other lessons, ones that weren’t so usual and Lila hadn’t bothered with, such as cooking and astronomy. He’d even taken a few theory of magic classes, although he didn’t have the talent to turn that theory into anything real. Erick could create all sorts of spells—Erick probably needs a bit more theory, Gerald thought wryly, picturing the destruction his search spell had wrought in the library—but Gerald couldn’t perform even the simplest conjuration. Not that magic was thought to be a suitable pastime for a royal, anyway. Erick’s parents had magic in their families, and they tolerated it in Erick, but he was their heir; magic was always going to be a simple diversion. It wasn’t his career.

  The only thing I’m really good at is riding. I’m good with animals in general. They’re much easier than people are. Gerald spent most of his time in and around the stables and kennels and mews, and when he was indoors, there was nearly always a cat or dog at his heels. The animals didn’t care if he got married or not. They had no expectations, so Gerald never felt like a disappointment when he didn’t live up to them.

  There must be something I can do with animals, Gerald thought, and he disappeared back into the library.

  By the time dinner rolled around, he had several pages of notes and a new enthusiasm. Everything was cross-checked and referenced and organized with headings and subheadings and bullet points. He felt prepared and ready to convince his parents—right up until he opened his mouth.

  Queen Danya interrupted him as he was getting started. “It is irrelevant,” she told him.

  He gaped. “Plans for my future are irrelevant?”

  “You can’t use this as a way to get out of your obligations. As you’ve spent so much time telling us over the past few weeks, you are not the heir. After your marriage, you will have to take on some responsibility; we can’t have you moping about the castle. And if animal husbandry is what you want to do, so be it. But there’s no reason why you can’t be married first.”

  “But…” Gerald trailed off. She was right. All his research, all his planning, didn’t change anything. They still weren’t listening. He was still stuck.

  “You have six days to make your choice,” she said.

  And Gerald fell silent. He folded his notes and tucked them away. He finished his meal in silence and looked only at his food. He returned to his room and seriously began to consider the possibility of running away. But they would track him down; running away would only postpone the inevitable—and put Queen Danya in an even sourer mood.

  WITH EVERY PASSING day, the air of frenetic preparation that hung over the castle increased, as did the tension between Gerald and Queen Danya. She turned hard and icy whenever she saw her youngest son, and she didn’t speak a single word to him, refusing even to ask him to pass the salt at dinner.

  Gerald almost thought he preferred it when she was yelling, because at least then he could defend himself by yelling back. He had no defense against the brittle, brutal silence.

  Queen Mixte was too caught up in ensuring Lila had everything she needed for her quest to take on her usual role of mediator between her wife and son, and Lila was positively enjoying Gerald’s squirming discomfort. “It’s all your own doing,” she pointed out whenever she ran into him, which was often enough Gerald rather thought she was seeking him out in order to gloat.

  With preparations in full swing for Lila’s departure, the regular routines of the castle had all gone to pieces. There were no lessons for either of the royal children, and all of the tutors, servants, and staff were too busy with Lila to pay attention to the other, aimless royal child.

  Gerald spent as much time as he could away from the castle, riding Wisp out in the morning and not coming back until dusk, but every evening he had to come back. Even with tensions running so high, family dinners remained non-negotiable. They were icy, silent meals that Gerald endured under the disapproving glares of one queen and the distracted gaze of the other, with Lila smirking at him across the table.

  By the end of the week, he was wondering if it would be better to give in.

  Maybe Mum’s right. Maybe I just need to mature. Maybe I’ll do this and it will work out, like it does for everyone else.

  But he couldn’t quite convince himself.

  HE SPENT EACH and every one of the remaining days refusing to make his choice and waiting for the arguments to start up again, waiting for Queen Danya to start yelling at him again. Waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  And it didn’t, and it didn’t, and it didn’t, until his nerves were so frayed he flinched whenever he saw Queen Danya, or Lila, or even Queen Mixte.

  And suddenly it was the last night before his and Lila’s birthday. The last night of the month. The last dinner. Lila was riding out in the morning and Gerald was waiting for the royal decree of his fate.

  There was no silence to shield him now. It was a formal dinner, a state dinner, and the Grand Hall was full of royalty, nobility, servers, and entertainers. The baseline level of noise set Gerald’s ears ringing as soon as he entered the room, and he felt more out of place than ever. James and Vani and their spouses had come to see Lila off and—as far as they knew—Gerald as well. Gerald didn’t bother to disabuse them. He hadn’t bothered to do much of anything for several days. Not even riding out with Wisp had been able to cheer him up.

  As he climbed the dais to the royal table, he put on his royal face, the friendly smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He kept it fixed firmly in place and he nodded whenever his siblings addressed him, and he held his tongue and waited for the other shoe to drop.

  The formal nature of the dinner put Gerald several seats away from Queen Danya. He could almost pretend she was simply too far away to be able to speak to him without shouting, which would be much too low class for her to dream of doing. He could almost pretend she wasn’t deliberately freezing him out like she had during the past half-dozen dinners. But pretending could only get him so far. At heart, he was too practical to engage in even those minor fantasies.

  He picked listlessly at his dinner and waited for the night to end. At least she won’t yell at me in front of all these people.

  It was a small comfort, but only a small one. I should have asked Erick for a spell. Something to hide me… Then I could have run. Too late now… Of course, knowing his spells, it probably would have blown up in my face anyway. Well, at least if I were dead, I wouldn’t have to deal with this…

  He pushed another forkful of food from one side of his plate to the other, lost in his dark thoughts. An elbow in his side brought him back to the present.

  “What’s wrong, little brother?” Vani asked.

  He tried to paste his royal smile back on. “Nothing.”

  “Are you nervous about tomorrow? It’s nothing to worry about, Gerald, really. Everyone does it, and no one even dies while questing anymore, not since they implemented the new training programs for the guardians. And that was ages ago!”

  “That’s not it.”

  “You know, I didn’t even think—Lila’s going rescuing, I assumed you were as well. But are you? Or are you following James’s example?”

  Gerald glanced over at his older brother and smirked. “James was never going to put the effort into rescuing someone when he could laze about in a tower and make them come to him.”

  “And you’re not lazy,” Vani finished. “So you are questing, then?”

  He hesitated. “I don’t plan to.”

  “Ah. Where are you going, then? Mountain? Swamp? I hear the fire forests have gotten quite nice.”


  “I don’t plan to go anywhere.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Gerald! What do you mean by that?”

  “Exactly that. I don’t plan to participate. I don’t want to get married.”

  “Men!” she huffed. “Honestly, Gerald. What’s wrong with getting married? Everyone does it! And hardly anyone dies at the altar anymore,” she added with a grin. “Not since they implemented the new training programs…”

  Gerald rolled his eyes. “Very funny, Vani.”

  She brightened up. “Or—is it because you’re already in love? Is it a commoner? Will there be a scandal? You know, if it’s True Love, you can probably push it through despite the gap in stations.”

  “No,” he said shortly. “I’m not in love.” I never have been and I don’t think I ever will be, and that’s the whole problem!

  “Well…what does Mother say?”

  “What do you think?” he asked bitterly.

  “Yes, well. She is rather…stubborn. But cheer up, little brother. Marriage isn’t the end of the world.”

  Gerald did not look convinced.

  The dinner lasted for hours, with half a dozen courses and then dessert, and then what felt like an endless parade of entertainers. Lila soaked up all the attention, while Gerald wanted nothing more than to get away from it all.

  When the evening finally reached its end, Queen Danya instructed him to stay.

  He watched everyone drift out of the hall and wished he was among them. Finally, the room was empty of everyone except the Queens and Gerald.

  “Have you made your decision?” Queen Danya asked. Her voice echoed in the empty hall.

  Gerald tried to summon the same defiance he had found the last time she asked him that question, but the week had worn him down. “I haven’t changed my mind,” he said quietly, bracing himself for the explosion.

  It didn’t come.

  She nodded once, a stiff, sharp movement. “You may go.”

  He hesitated, not wanting to press his luck, but needing to know. “You’re not going to make me choose?”

  “You’ve lost that prerogative.”