by Paige Elwood
Chapter 19
Sarah took a seat for breakfast, hungry after morning yoga in her room and a trip into the town square to collect her new shoes. The shoes were surprisingly comfortable, much more so than any she’d ever bought back home. The leather was buttery-soft, and they fit her like a glove — except, they were for her feet.
She was thrilled to see chicken and pheasant available to eat instead of the thin, watery gruel. Agata was digging into the food enthusiastically, and Sarah joined her. The still-warm chicken and pheasant was heaven compared to the last couple of days of cold bread and cheese.
“What’s the occasion?” Sarah asked.
“Royal feast for the lords yesterday, and there was enough left over for us,” Agata grinned. “These are my favorite kind of days. Makes being patted on the rump by all the Lords and their sons a little more bearable.”
“They touched you?” Sarah asked, pausing with a chicken drumstick in mid-air. She put it back on the plate.
“They’re Lords. They think they can have what they want. Mostly, they’re right,” she said with a small shrug.
“I can’t believe the King would allow such behavior. Or the Prince!” she said, astounded at how unfazed Agata was.
“Don’t be fooled. They’re better bred, but it’s more a case that they feel you’re so far beneath them they don’t have to respect you,” Agata laughed. “For a well-educated woman, you are surprisingly slow-witted sometimes.”
“I just can’t imagine Prince Max…” she started. Noticing Agata’s waggling eyebrows, she stopped. “What?”
“You like the Prince,” Agata said. “You wish you were his princess!”
“No! He’s my student!”
“And a Prince, so he’s out of your reach. But you can still dream!”
“I’m not even bothering to answer that,” Sarah said, taking a hefty bite out of the delicious chicken drumstick and pointedly ignoring Agata.
When Sarah arrived at the library that morning, the bright sun streaming through the window caused her to squint as she tried to deliver the lesson.
“Let’s walk around the courtyard!” she suggested. If she was going to squint, it might as well be outside in the actual sunshine and not cooped up indoors.
Max nodded and rose to his feet, and to Sarah’s astonishment, so did the Princess. It was the first time she’d seen her enthusiastic about anything.
Outside, Sarah drank in the sweet fresh air and bright summer sun. In the open air she was even more invigorated by delivering the lesson. She walked briskly around the courtyard with Max keeping pace, but the Princess lagged several steps behind. Sarah slowed the pace once or twice, but found that Katherine did the same, and so she never caught up. Satisfied that she wasn’t accidentally leaving the Princess out of their conversation, Sarah continued.
Today’s lesson was one of her favorites, Plato’s Ladder of Love. It was a fascinating concept, elements of which rang incredibly true for her in her own heart.
“So, the love of the correct person elevates both lovers to heights they could not have achieved alone,” she said as she reached the end of her lecture.
“And even better, it allows them to unleash beauty and talents on the world that would otherwise not have existed,” added Max.
“Exactly,” said Sarah, impressed at his insights.
“But how do you feel about the idea that physical love sullies the beauty of the Platonic love? That it is only Platonic love that inspires such beauty in the world?”
“That has always been my greatest issue with this idea. I think physical love has its place and is as beautiful and enriching as the non-physical aspects. But only when it’s part of that perfect, soul-defining connection.”
“Like marriage?” Katherine asked, startling both Sarah and Max. They turned simultaneously to find the Princess now only one pace behind them, loosely carrying the stem of a carnation between her finger and thumb.
“Not exactly,” Sarah said. “Yes, if the two people getting married have attained that true and perfect love. But I don’t believe marriage creates that love.”
“But love blossoms after marriage. And marriage is the only sanctified expression of love.” She gazed at Sarah evenly, chin tilted in defiance.
“Maybe,” Sarah said. “And love that blossoms after marriage may well be true love. But it’s not the marriage itself that creates the true love.”
The Princess inspected the white carnation in her hands. “And marriage without true love?” she asked, speaking towards the floor.
“Is a contract between two people that can never be, in my opinion, what it should be.”
Katherine looked at her feet. Max opened his mouth to speak and break the awkward silence that had descended, but Katherine raised her head and looked Sarah straight in the eye. “What if you didn’t meet the right person and then you never got married? Or you did, but you didn’t know it?” She asked, breathlessly.
“I believe that you always do,” Sarah said. “Socrates didn’t necessarily agree with me. His concept of marriage was kind of that you find someone who was good enough and settle down. I like to think this was one time where Socrates was wrong.”
Katherine pursed her pretty lips and started to inspect a rosebush that was budding nicely. She didn’t speak after that and simply followed them around the courtyard, leaving a space of several paces.
The Prince and Sarah continued their discussion until their stomachs were growling, warning them it was time for lunch. They agreed to meet outside in the courtyard rather than the library tomorrow. The Princess offered no resistance to the idea at the time, but the next morning only Max showed up at the start of the lesson.
“Katherine?” Sarah asked him as he strode across the courtyard, his long legs making short work of the distance.
“She has excused herself,” he said running a hand through his wavy hair. Sarah wondered if it was soft, or coarse. “She is feeling unwell.”
“Nothing serious I hope?”
“I don’t believe so, just a general malaise, I’m sure she’ll return tomorrow,” Max said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “In the meantime, I’m interested in what lesson you have prepared for today?”
“I thought we might continue with the philosophy of love?”
“Perfect. I enjoyed yesterday’s discussion.”
They walked at a brisk pace around the courtyard, discussing Plato’s concept of love at length, until Max suddenly slowed. “Apologies.”
“Whatever for?” Sarah asked.
“I wasn’t walking at a pace suitable for a lady.”
Sarah snorted “And did you see me having trouble keeping up?”
“No,” he grinned.
“No. Because I enjoy walking, and I also enjoy running. I daresay I’d be better than you.” She glanced at his long legs. “Even with your unfair advantage.”
“You enjoy running? Why would you run for enjoyment?” He looked perplexed at the very idea of it.
“For exercise, to have fun, to keep fit. Why else would I run?”
“Usually just to outrun an enemy,” Max said, looking her up and down as though seeing her anew. She resisted the urge to breathe in and stand tall under his gaze. “Soldiers run as part of their training, but I’ve never heard of people running for fun. Especially a woman.”
“Nobody runs for fun here?”
“Only children, chasing each other.”
“Where I come from a lot of people just run. In the same way you might walk as a hobby.”
“I have never considered it as a possible hobby,” Max said thoughtfully.
“You should come for a run with me!” Sarah said. “I bet you’d love it!”
“Perhaps one day when I have time.”
“I know, I know,” Sarah grinned. “Your royal duties are never finished.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Max said. “I do enjoy walking, though, and we have time for a more stimulating walk if it suits.”<
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“Yes, that would be nice.”
“Follow me.” Max led her out of the courtyard and to the wooded area that was still part of the castle grounds. “There’s a wonderful path through the woods.”
Sarah followed, entering the copse of trees with Max. The wooded area was dense enough to provide a screen from the strong sunlight, and the air beneath the canopy of leaves was cooler. A few steps into the woods, and the castle was barely visible.
For the first time, it felt like they were in a private space together. He grinned at her as they walked side by side, keeping pace. Her heart beat a little erratically, and heat bloomed across her chest that had nothing to do with the brisk pace.
She cleared her throat. “So, shall we continue the lesson?”
“I thought it might be nice to just walk,” Max said. “Time to reflect on what we’ve already discussed, perhaps?”
“Very well,” Sarah smiled. She coughed, a dry tickling sensation at the back of her throat.
“Are you all right?” Max asked.
“Yes, just a dry throat. No big deal.”
Max unhooked a flask from his belt and unscrewed the top.
“I don’t drink ale…” Sarah began as he held it out.
“I don’t really like it either. It’s just water.” He proffered the flask.
“Oh, well, then thank you.” Sarah reached out a hand to take the flask and missed it. The flask thudded to the ground and leaked half the contents onto Sarah’s new shoes. The water flooded over the tops of them, trickling in and between her toes. She yelped in surprise and disgust at the cold, wet sensation.
Max scooped up the flask and held it out sheepishly. “Sorry.”
“It’s ok,” Sarah said, taking a sip of the cool liquid, relishing the relief as it lubricated the tickly dry patch in her throat. One problem solved, another one created. She wiggled her damp toes in her shoes. “It’s making my feet cold though, and I hate that. Plus, these are new shoes and they fit really well. I hope this doesn’t spoil them.”
“I hate having cold feet too!” Max said.
Sarah laughed. “I don’t suppose anyone likes it.”
“No, I really hate it,” Max said. “Hang on, I have an idea. Follow me.”
Max grabbed her hand and pulled her through the woods until they came upon a small wooden hut.
Chapter 20
“What’s this?” Sarah asked, peering in the open door.
“Groundskeeper’s cabin, but he’s not using it at the minute. We’ll light a fire and dry your shoes.”
“A fire! In the middle of summer?”
“It’s not as warm in here. Your feet are cold, aren’t they? And it won’t be for long, just to dry off your shoes and warm your feet.”
“Ok,” Sarah said. She’d love to have her comfortable fluffy slipper socks right now.
They ducked into the cabin, which was furnished only with an empty fireplace, one rickety chair, and a crossbow. Max set to work lighting the fire while Sarah inspected the crossbow.
“Be careful,” Max said, “it’s loaded.”
“So I see,” Sarah said, placing a fingertip on the pointy end of the arrow. She’d seen a lot of Buffy reruns as a teenager, and she had a sudden urge to lift the crossbow.
“Pass me your shoes,” Max said, and she slipped them off, her momentary fascination with the weaponry gone. Max placed her shoes on the chair, and the chair in front of the fire.
“Thank you,” she said.
“I couldn’t leave you with wet feet.”
“But still, thank you.”
“No, really. I hate it when people sniffle, and if I left you with wet feet I’d have to listen to you sniffle all through your lessons, and I just can’t do that.”
“You brute!” Sarah playfully slapped his shoulder, surprised at the lean but solid frame that she made contact with. He didn’t look muscular, but he was certainly not a wimp.
“I hate it too,” she confessed. “I used to keep tissues with me to hand to students who sniffled in my classes.
“Tissues?” Max asked.
“Sorry, it’s another name for handkerchiefs where I’m from. How long do you think it will take for the shoes to dry?”
“Not long. Maybe half an hour?”
“How are we going to pass half an hour in this tiny hut?”
Max rubbed at his chin. “I pose to you that love is only temporary.”
Sarah laughed. “I disagree, young Prince. I’d say that true love lasts a lifetime.”
“But how can you be sure, if you’re not married and don’t have a lover?”
“How do you know I don’t?”
“You wear no wedding band, and there are no secrets in this castle, I assure you,” he said with a wink.
“True,” she laughed. “It’s one of those questions that’d difficult to answer with facts. It’s like asking me how I know God exists.”
“Because the Vatican says so?”
“Of course not,” Sarah grinned. “I just know. You can feel him in the rays of the sun, and someone created this world. I think it was created out of love. And so therefore love, and by extension, true love must exist.”
They debated the point for a while, with Max sometimes throwing in an inflammatory argument, and sometimes surprising her with a well-thought out summary of her own beliefs. It was the first time she’d met someone as willing as he to discuss these ideas, and willing to listen. He was just as fascinated by the nature of love as she was. The way his body language sprang to life and his gestures became wildly exaggerated gave it away.
It was the most engaged she’d ever been in a conversation with another person, and from the way he talked to her, she could tell he felt the same way. If only any of her first dates had been like this, there might have been more second dates!
“Your shoes are dry now, I think,” Max said after a while. He picked them up and gestured for her to sit in the now empty seat. Sarah sat, holding out her hand for the shoes.
The Prince knelt and began to slip the left shoe on. His warm hand against her foot sent a jolt of electricity through her and she jerked her foot back.
“I’m sorry,” Max said, pulling his hand away, “did I hurt you?”
“No, you just shocked me. I could have put them on myself, I’m not Cinderella,” she joked.
“Cinderella?”
“Sorry, it’s just a tale I was told when I was a small child.”
“Oh,” Max said. “I had a Nanny once who told me many tales. I enjoyed them. Perhaps you could tell me the story of Cinderella?”
“It’s just a silly fairy tale,”
“I’d still like to hear it.”
Sarah grimaced and recanted the tale of Cinderella. She gave the Disney version, minus the talking mice, and not the Grimm version, which she’d always found a little too dark.
Max looked thoughtful. “So, it’s like your theory of true love. They knew they were supposed to be together, and he did whatever it took to find her again.”
“Well, yes, I suppose it is,” Sarah said. She’d never explicitly examined Cinderella, it was just a children’s tale, albeit one she’d always had a soft spot for.
“I like the story of Cinderella," Max said.
“Me too,” Sarah said. Their eyes met and lingered for just a moment longer than was polite. Sarah dropped her eyes and picked at her nails.
“It’s time to go back,” Max said. “Perhaps tomorrow we could run?”
“I’d love to, but Katherine will hopefully be well, and I suspect she would not enjoy that,” Sarah said, glancing up at the Prince and noting the clarity of his blue eyes. She looked away, watching a squirrel climb a tree limb in the distance.
The Prince followed her gaze across to the squirrel. “That is very true. Perhaps then, we could arrange to go running in the evening?”
“Would that be… proper?”
“More proper than me allowing a lady to venture out alone. I insist.”
&
nbsp; Sarah considered it for a moment. “Then I accept. We will probably want to avoid being seen, though. We don’t want to cause too many wagging tongues.”
“I know a way we can go, where we won’t be seen.”
“What is it?”
“Just trust me,” he said, flashing her a disarming smile. And Sarah was surprised to find that she did.
Chapter 21
Max struggled to keep his breath even, his eyes following the petite blonde-haired figure just ahead of him. She looked rather fetching in his old britches, held up by a length of rope wrapped around her waist several times. The extra fabric bunched up around her ankles where her legs weren’t long enough to fill them, but she seemed happy enough as she bobbed along. She never ceased to amaze him with her unusual ways.
Despite the strange apparel and her much shorter legs, Max was surprised at just how fast Sarah ran. It was also a revelation how running like this outside of training could be so fun and relaxing. The wind kissed his cheeks as he ran, the pale sun just rising above the hills in the distance. The morning was quiet and still, and his blood was pumping through his veins, making him feel alive.
The ring he always wore was also alive, the way it became every time in Sarah’s presence. It was starting to get difficult to write it off as coincidence. It was warm now on his hand, reminding him of its presence and the legend that came with it.
They reached the ancient oak tree, the marker they had set as the end of the run. Sarah reached it first, turning triumphantly to Max, her cheeks pink with exertion and her eyes bright.
"I won!" Sarah said, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She bent at the waist, hands on her knees as she regained her breath.
"I wasn't far behind you," Max said. "I will say though, you are quite fast. For a girl."
Sarah punched his arm lightly. "You're just a sore loser."
"I don't know what you mean. I don't even understand that word. Loser?"
Sarah's brow creased in confusion. "It was just a joke," Max said hurriedly.
"Oh!" Sarah said. "I thought it might have been a… difference in the way we speak in my land."