by Sarina Dorie
“I’ve almost got it. Don’t fret,” the prince called.
Errol recognized her now. This wasn’t one of the prince’s mistresses, but Princess Steorra. She wasn’t wearing her typical gray. Her day dress was pastel and matched her parasol. She wore her silver hair curled under a pink-and-white hat. Her eyes shifted from green to orange.
“I do apologize,” Errol said. “I can only hope you find the fragrance of lavender to be appealing.”
She laughed.
“That was terrible. Absolutely unforgivable,” Prince Elric-Atherius said. He handed his sister her parasol.
“I beg your forgiveness, Your Highness.” Errol bowed, afraid what this prince might do in retaliation. Maids and valets had been beaten for less.
Elric-Atherius lifted up his nose and turned to his sister, who had now closed her parasol. “I should tell Father what you’ve done, jumping out into the path and trying to trip this poor guard. You’re truly impossible. I can’t bring you anywhere!”
Princess Steorra pushed her brother in the shoulder like Alma might do to Errol. “Stop. You’re the clumsy one. If you didn’t walk around all the time with your eyes closed, you wouldn’t turn corners into people.”
Errol edged around them, hoping to slip past.
“And just look at the back of your dress! What is that you’ve got all over yourself? Mother is going to accuse us of trying to sabotage Cousin Leopold from wishing to court you.” Elric-Atherius grinned wider.
“Oh fie! What a tragedy that would be!” she said with mock sorrow.
Errol suspected this appointment they were going to must have been why the princess was dressed like . . . a princess. He continued down the path.
He glanced over his shoulder, finding Steorra gazing after him. She tilted her head to the side, studying him. Errol knew enchantments for dimming sound—a necessity on a ship at times for concentration—but he didn’t know the magic for amplifying it. He couldn’t hear what Steorra whispered to her brother, but Prince Elric-Atherius now turned to gaze at Errol as well.
The prince smiled and waved. Errol nodded and hurried down the path. Errol looked up at the castle looming ahead, a sparkle of magic from one of the windows catching his eyes. A man’s shape was silhouetted against the light behind him. It was too far away to tell who the man was, though Errol thought that particular window might have belonged to the king’s library, so it could have been any of the royal family or staff watching Errol’s blunder.
It would be quite embarrassing if it happened to be the king. The figure stepped away from the curtains.
As Errol resumed his walk, his thoughts returned to the princess’s lack of reaction at him touching her.
Prince Elric-Atherius and Princess Steorra were the least snobbish out of the king’s children, and if Errol had to be put in a position of almost colliding with any royal figure, they were probably the least likely to retaliate. Prince Elric-Atherius was considered to be an imbecile. He was a novice when it came to magic, much of this having to do with his upbringing. The king and queen had amused themselves with a changeling, swapping him with a human baby years ago. Prince Elric-Atherius had been raised by humans, exposed to cold iron, and eaten Morty foods.
Errol wondered what had happened to that human child when the royal family had taken Elric-Atherius back in and told him of his true parentage.
Errol supposed that explained Prince Elric-Atherius’ supposed proclivities, though not completely. He got on well with Steorra, and she seemed to prefer his company over many of her siblings. Of course, the rest of that lot weren’t particularly nice to her or anyone else.
It wasn’t until Errol arrived at his post that he wondered whether he’d missed an opportunity to find himself a tutor in muse magic. He dismissed that thought. These were members of the royal family, even if they were the black sheep of the Silver Court.
* * *
“What you truly need to help you take your mind off your powers is a wife.” Alma said as she came to visit him one day after his lesson with Captain Helga. “Or a lover.”
Of course his sister would say that. “I don’t think it will work like that.” Unless he met a woman who also happened to be an artist—and even if she was, he wouldn’t want to use this kind of magic on her without her knowing. And the risk of being caught was too great if she did. He’d already seen examples of gossip and what it had done for his reputation.
Despite his protests, Alma set him up with Aedamnair next, followed by Blathnaid. Each relationship only lasted a few weeks.
“How about you let me set you up with someone?” he asked.
“No, I’m doing fine without you.” Her smile was mischievous. “I’ve found myself a sweetheart.”
“Who?” Errol asked. “Is this a new one?”
“Mayhap.” A smile tugged at her lips.
“Is he anyone I know?”
She continued chopping vegetables. “It’s none of your concern. I’ll introduce you if I decide I’m going to keep him.”
Errol didn’t know how she could be so cavalier. Having a suitor was important news, and she hadn’t even told him about this new beau until now. Also, he was dying of curiosity to find out who this man was. He asked the other maids and tried to catch her as she left the kitchen in the evening to see whether she met up with her swain, but he failed each time. Perhaps she was simply saying she had a suitor to get a rise out of him.
After things didn’t work out with the girls Alma set him up with, he followed Semmy’s advice and stopped letting his sister try to fix him up.
“She obviously doesn’t know your type,” Semmy said.
Not that Errol knew what his type was. Semmy took him to a pub to go dancing with lasses who weren’t kitchen maids and didn’t work in the castle. Errol supposed that meant they had lower expectations. Most of these women didn’t want more than a night of dancing and fun.
That was fine with Errol. One night of diversions was about all he felt he could commit to after the last incidents with women. Semmy took him under his wing and invited him out with him, even though he wasn’t in his unit, and most of the officers Semmy acquainted himself with were more mature Fae with higher positions than Errol’s.
It was through Semmy that Errol met Kendra, a serving wench at a tavern. She was blonde and voluptuous, though not nearly as regal as Helga—or as muscular. Semmy told him he could tell they’d be a good match. Errol wasn’t so certain. She seemed to have eyes for the men with higher ranks.
Kendra held herself with the kind of confidence that came to women who were over a hundred. She poured their ale and flirted, though she drew the line when one of the officers tried to fondle her.
Errol shifted uncomfortably. When he had intervened on a woman’s behalf in the past, namely his sister, it had led to trouble. Now here he was with a group of men who were his superiors, but they were drunk and disorderly. He couldn’t stop himself from reprimanding this officer’s lack of honor.
Errol stood, about to come to the woman’s aid.
She spoke first. “Just because I work at a tavern doesn’t mean I’m a strumpet and you can touch me as you please.” She poured the pitcher of ale onto the man’s crotch. “Let’s see if that cools you off.”
Errol decided he liked her right then.
He introduced himself to her and told her that he liked the way she had put his acquaintance in his place. She looked at him with renewed interest now, taking in his silver hair and violet eyes.
“You’re a regular gentleman, aren’t you?” she asked with a smile. “That’s refreshing.”
Errol courted Kendra when his schedule allowed it. Their relationship was based on mutual attraction, though they had little in common aside from that. Errol didn’t mind. She was understanding of his long hours and busy schedule, and he was fine seeing her a couple of times a month. Kendra’s feisty tongue and boldness eventually interfered with her job, and she was fired. Errol sugg
ested one in the castle kitchen working with his sister.
He liked being able to stop by the kitchen and use the excuse of wanting a biscuit to see them both.
For a short period of time, Errol thought he might be able to be happy.
* * *
Errol stopped just outside the door to the kitchen, on his way to see his sister, when he heard his name.
“How about Captain Errol?” a quiet female voice asked.
“Lieutenant Errol. He’s all right if you’re just looking for a good roll in the hay, but he’s nothing special,” a loud female voice said. Though she sounded familiar, Errol didn’t immediately recognize who was speaking.
“Hold your tongue!” Alma shouted. “That’s my brother you’re blathering about.”
The other woman laughed. “Is he? From the way he dotes on you, I thought he was your husband.”
“You did not. If you did, you wouldn’t have let him get you a job here or court you.”
“Who says he’s courting me? He just comes around to see me when he wants to go bed-pressing.”
“You stop!” Alma said.
Errol realized it must have been Kendra talking about him. He couldn’t blame her for thinking he wasn’t worth her while, considering how little time he had for a relationship. He was surprised to hear Kendra speak so openly about him, because he thought they had a mutual understanding, but he wasn’t astounded by her cavalier attitude.
“I know he isn’t interested in marriage,” the soft-spoken maid said. “Alma told me as much already.”
“Then you want to know how he is between the sheets?” Kendra laughed. “He’s woefully boring, so there’s not much to say. For being a member of the Silver Court, a bunch of Fae known for their inspiration and ability to fuel imagination, he’s fairly uncreative with his member.”
The words were even more of a shock than Maggie breaking off their relationship because of his long hours. It was no secret that he was too occupied with his employment to be able to properly court a maiden. Maggie had made certain he was aware of that gossip. Now to find out he wasn’t even interesting enough in bed was the final blow to his ego.
He couldn’t see the point in trying to court women at all.
Kendra went on, “In fact, I’d say he’s so boring, he—”
Errol jumped hearing a smack on flesh. A series of grunts came from within the kitchen. He started forward and then back, unsure whether he should interrupt.
Alma growled. “Say any more, and you’ll be eating my fist for the rest of the day. I will not tolerate hearing another word out of your vulgar mouth.”
Kendra snorted and said something too low for Errol to hear.
Alma grunted. “You’re a filthy harlot, and my brother doesn’t deserve that after all he’s done for you.”
Kendra sounded like she tried to say something, but Errol couldn’t make it out. He decided to step into the kitchen before Alma strangled Kendra for his sake.
The head cook was present, looking quite amused by the two women grappling from her post at the larder—a safe distance from them. The old woman winked at Errol. Perhaps she knew he’d been eavesdropping.
Alma had Kendra in a headlock. She’d shoved a bar of soap in Kendra’s mouth.
“Alma,” Errol said, wavering between interfering and leaving the two of them be.
“This is my battle,” Alma said. “Come back later.”
Errol sighed and left, forlorn. He didn’t even get a biscuit out of his visit to the kitchen.
* * *
Everywhere Errol went in the castle over the next few days, the maids smirked as they passed him. When he was stationed at his post outside the king’s quarters, patrolling, or giving orders to his unit, his men were constantly snickering at him.
After an especially long shift with him trying to pretend he hadn’t been overhearing his sovereign’s most recent roust with a chambermaid, Errol found the lock on his private quarters had been tampered with. He expected some kind of practical joke inside, or at the very least a booby trap. But there was no further magic at work, and he inspected the room for hexes. There were none. The only item out of place was a book on his bed. He couldn’t tell whether it was a jest or someone meant it as a gift in earnest.
It was a copy of The Kama Sutra.
Errol couldn’t detect who had broken into his quarters. Either it was someone skilled in magic, or someone with an accomplice who was skilled. He wouldn’t have put such an insult past one of his subordinates—if they possessed the skill, but the traces of magic that remained were nearly invisible. More likely it was an officer above him, though the idea of his superiors hearing about his pathetic love life was even worse.
If it was from Semmy, he was an excellent actor. He didn’t inquire whether Errol had found anything in his bed, and his face didn’t even flicker with amusement as Errol asked him, “Were you the one who broke into my room and left that book?”
Semmy shook his head. “Mate, if I was going to break into someone’s room, I wouldn’t leave someone a book.”
“What would you leave someone?”
“Well, that depends. If he was my enemy, I’d leave a big pile of dung on his pillow. After I ate lentil stew.” Semmy laughed as if this were the most brilliant idea in the world.
“That’s bloody disgusting.” Errol shook his head.
“And effective. So why would someone break into your room and leave you a book?”
Errol shrugged, feigning indifference. “Apparently I haven’t purchased the correct literature for self-improvement in the past.”
“Ah, something from the major? Or the general?”
“I couldn’t say.”
Errol read the book in his free time. He considered trying the new positions he’d read about, but, after Kendra, he didn’t feel especially inspired to pursue anyone. All of his energy went into his career, and what wasn’t used up there, he spent on his sister and the few friends he had.
With Errol’s devotion to his duty, it was no wonder he eventually rose from second lieutenant to lieutenant and was assigned command of a platoon. He liked to think he was given this prestigious position because of his hard work, not the king’s interference, but he didn’t know that for certain.
He took Alma to the cavalry ball, though she mostly danced with other officers. Naturally, she ignored all his suggestions of who she should dance with, including Semmy. His friend didn’t seem offended. When Semmy wasn’t occupied with dancing, he sat beside Errol, nursing a drink.
“I’m beginning to see your type,” Errol said, thinking back on his observations of the women Semmy danced with and those he had occasionally taken back to his quarters in the past.
“What’s that?” Semmy raked a hand over his shorn hair. “The prettiest ones?”
“You prefer Fae, not Witchkin.” Errol couldn’t say Fae were prettier, though their magic tasted different.
The easy smile on Semmy’s face turned to a frown. “I don’t have anything against Witchkin women.”
Errol couldn’t help wondering if that was truly the case. Errol’s magic was strong enough to be Fae, and the human in his bloodline was so far back the sliver was probably impossible to detect, but he couldn’t help wondering what his friend might say if he knew of Errol and Alma’s inferior heritage. Semmy was friends with the officers, his peers as well as those who ranked higher than himself. He had befriended Errol, despite Errol’s crabbiness and penchant for following rules. It might simply have been the color of Errol’s silver hair, which gave him the look of a noble, that had persuaded him to be friendly. It was possible Semmy was a social climber in his career, using his smile and charm to elevate himself.
Errol hoped that wasn’t the case.
“I’m not judging,” Errol said, trying to give his friend the benefit of the doubt. “We all have a type, I suppose. Perhaps you simply didn’t know what yours was.”
Semmy leaned in
closer. “That’s not it at all, mate. I just don’t want to get any woman with child.”
Errol shook his head. “It’s been over fifty years since any Fae conceived. It’s highly unlikely you would be able to—and if you did—I think the king might think it a miracle and give you an award.”
The king had been good to Errol, possibly because he and Alma had been some of the last children born in the Faerie Realm. Or it might have been because of the color of his hair. He couldn’t tell which.
“Aye. An award for virility!” Semmy laughed at that.
* * *
Courting and bedding a woman hadn’t helped Errol with his muse abilities. Not that he had thought it would.
As his days of guarding wore on, being able to control his muse tendencies became more of a problem. He couldn’t help closing his eyes and savoring the scent of music and the taste of poetry. He was so enraptured in watching the inspiration drift off dancers that he forgot to monitor soldiers who were at risk for falling into dancing or artistry themselves. He forgot he needed to protect those in the castle from danger.
Errol thought of the time Princess Steorra and Prince Elric had been kind to him in the garden despite being a stranger and a soldier. He had considered approaching one of them to ask their advice about his problem but had dismissed the idea because they were royalty and he was common.
Yet when Errol found himself assigned to guard Princess Steorra’s carriage, he wasn’t certain whether it was fate or this coincidence might soon result in his misfortune. There was a danger in the proposition he was about to make.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Musing with the Muses
Errol often presided over a unit of guards on duty as one of the royal family went on an outing. When that was the case, he was assigned to one of the princes going to see a mistress or an opera. Sometimes he was assigned to Prince Elric-Atherius when he took his daughter or Witchkin mistress on outings. Out of all the king’s children, he was the only one who preferred the company of those with Morty blood.