Luckily, during daytime, Amadea and he rarely saw each other. She was busy with ladylike matters, while he spent his mornings and afternoons subsidizing Volkard and his faculty of young women. They ran into each other in corridors, Dick walking Mutt on a short leash, Amadea gliding past with Mina and sometimes Eva at her side, and a considerable herd of maids in tow, chatting, giggling, gossiping. They sometimes also dined together. Then, at night, they slept in their separate chambers, which made Dietrich bless Duke Ettore and his prudish ways over and over.
He found Amadea attending a ballez session.
Dama Ediltrudis was busy torturing the royal princess and his wife, forcing them through painful, exhausting motions, over and over and over. Amadea was trying her best, her short, chubby form ill-suited for the graceful dance routines. Wilhelmina was panting, sweaty hair plastered to her evil head, her face contorted with deep, genuine discomfort.
She looked utterly miserable.
That made Dick quite happy.
He did not dare interrupt, because Dama Trudis would complain to Old Fart, and Dick didn’t need any unwarranted attention from his father before the journey. He wanted the king to believe he was truly committed to the whole notion of responsibility, parenthood and all that nonsense.
“Left. Left. Left.”
Dick grinned some more.
His sister and wife’s entourage was watching the training with delight and fascination. The only one looking mildly bored was Eva. She sat with a resigned posture, eyes focused on a distant point somewhere far beyond the thick, cold, ice-crusted walls of the castle. Dick gazed up and about, and there, in a corner of the hall, was a knight standing, Eva’s shadow and a constant reminder of her status.
Does she hate me? Dick wondered. After all, she was in Eisenstar because of him. And he had broken his promise to let her go.
She must have sensed his stare and met his eyes with a flat, empty look. Dick didn’t dare greet her, not with Mina and Amadea around. Even now, with the dama flaying their souls, his sister would definitely notice, and then, his troubles would really start.
He felt someone else looking at him. Nicole. She was still pretending to be a lady-in-waiting. Her gaze, though, was full of cold, calculated hatred. The girl showed no appreciation for the fact Dick had intervened and saved her life. Old Fart hadn’t been keen on lugging a useless servant all the way north, and it had taken Dick quite a bit of effort to change his mind. However, in a strange, obtuse way only women could be, Nicole was more worried about Eva and the fact he had supposedly tricked them, than her own well-being. Given the chance, the whore was going to kill him, and Dick almost couldn’t blame her. Almost.
“Left. Left. LEFT. Left. And rest.”
The two girls almost collapsed from exhaustion. Dama Trudis walked over, her face ugly and sour. “I told you not to bring animals here, Prince Dietrich.”
Dick glanced at Mutt, acting surprised that the mongrel was there. “But I must walk my dog.”
The maids noticed him. Some of them batted their lashes at him. Others giggled stupidly. Before Mutt, that would rarely happen. Dogs had their special charm.
“Do it elsewhere, Prince Dietrich.”
“I humbly apologize,” he intoned through gritted teeth. “May I speak with my wife?”
“The young lady is busy,” the crone said in her foreign accent. “You will—”
“Please,” Dick forced himself to say.
“Be quick about it, Prince Dietrich.”
Dick handed the leash over to Crispin and walked closer. The hall smelled of old, veteran sweat. Even girls stank, it seemed, once they subjected themselves to honest work.
Wilhelmina saw him and quickly changed her expression from one of pain to one of haughtiness. “Brother.”
“Sister.”
“Deek.”
Dick sighed. Five months, and Amadea still couldn’t speak properly. It always sounded like her teeth were trying to flee her mouth and she had to do her best to keep them in place.
“Great news, we shall be traveling to Ostland,” he announced.
Amadea frowned, and when she did that, the hairs on her upper lip were more prominent. “Why do we go there, Deek?”
“My dear father the king has appointed me the Warden of Ostland,” he said delightfully, ignoring Mina’s venomous expression. “I have been given a great responsibility.”
“Ostfort is a dangerous place,” his sister said, regaining composure.
Dick focused on his wife. It was an effort, but he derived pleasure from Mina’s discomfort. “It will also be a great opportunity for you to see some of the kingdom, Amadea. Get away from the court.” Get away from my sister. There was no knowing what kind of damage Mina was creating with her vile little lies. Amadea was young and quite naive. In a different situation, Dick would have been delighted by her lack of guile, but not with his sister dripping poison in Amadea’s chubby ears.
“When are we going?”
“As soon as the roads clear.”
“Girls, come here!” Dama Trudis shouted.
Without a word, they retreated, going back to their torture.
“Right. Right. RIGHT. RIGHT! Mina, watch your step. Right. Right. Right!”
Dick joined Crispin, and Mutt started wagging its tail madly, as if a whole year had passed since the last time it had worried its snot and spit into Dick’s fine silk leggings. He wanted to talk to Eva, but he couldn’t do it here.
There was more snickering from the ladies. Dick bowed gallantly. They covered their mouths to hide their giggles.
Crispin leaned over and whispered, “I heard Lady Jannike has asked the queen for permission to own a little dog much like yours, Master. You are becoming quite popular.”
Dick looked down at Mutt. The urge to kick it was long gone now, replaced with something close to appreciation for a valuable asset. “Good job, you little bag of hair.” But then, he noticed Eva wasn’t among the giggly hens. She was not laughing, her brow wasn’t creased with delight, and her eyes weren’t narrowed from smiling.
I must steal her away from here. It’s the only way she is going to like me.
Well, there were still a few eightdays of snow left before they could depart east. Plenty of time to scheme her escape.
CHAPTER 3
I Will Help You
“Sometimes, the difference between friend and foe lies in whom you hate less.”
—GAUTIER, A FARANC MONK, 4TH CENTURY
20th day of the Month of the Blizzard
It took Dick almost an eightday to finally secure a quiet moment with Eva. She was always in the company of other women, most often his blasted sister and his chublet of a wife, and he needed neither one around for what he had in mind. Women were devious, and they had that uncanny ability to read a man’s thoughts.
But now, she was alone. Not even Nicole was in attendance. Mina was busy studying poetry or some such nonsense, and Amadea had joined her, so she could practice Richs.
His father’s hostage was standing on a balcony that jutted out of the castle’s northwest face, between the Hero and Rock Towers. Eva was leaning on the frozen stone, elbows pressed into the mossy ice that covered the slick masonry, but she did not seem to care.
Dick paused at the balcony’s doors, watching her, searching for signs of distress and anger. But all he could see on her beautiful face was melancholy, matching the color of the low, oppressive clouds gliding from the north, the wind spiced with the smell of mountains and ancient forest. He put his foot out and almost fell. The damn balcony was slippery.
Eva turned around. Her soft expression was suddenly alert. “What do you want?”
Dietrich let go off the thick velvet drape he was gripping. He edged closer, legs spread wide for balance. He wanted to look her in the face, but in his hunched stance, he was mostly focusing on her breasts.
“I just want to talk,” he said in his most sincere voice.
The storm of tiny twitches vanished, and her mien was sad again.
“Well, Prince, I cannot really stop you, can I. This is your father’s castle and you can go anywhere you want. I am just a hostage.”
Soon to be my castle, he thought. As soon as he killed Old Fart, but it was easier said than done. “Eva, there’s no reason for all this.”
She arched a brow, and then turned back north. “This what?”
“This formality. Call me Dick.”
“What do you want, Dick?”
“Aren’t you cold?” He sure was. Dressed only in fine red silk with gold brocade, he could feel the bite of the wind around his belly. He wished he was lounging in front of a fire and sipping wine, but then, there would be too many prying ears.
“Not really,” she replied.
“But you don’t have snow in Enissia.” He reached the balcony wall. The ice was translucent and green, as if someone had laid bricks of gems onto the hard stone.
“We have the sea storms, and they are far worse than any snow. When Ades, God of the Waves, gets angry with us, he blows a wind so chilly it cuts the skin open. You can feel it in your bones for days afterward. And the rain is sharp, like knives; you can’t be outside during the storm. Snow is fluffy and warm by comparison.”
Dick shrugged. The coastal city did not sound like a fun place to be in the winter, but he was sure he would find a way to manage through the worst of it. Brothels like The Swan would surely keep him warm. He still hadn’t given up on the idea of capturing Enissia, so maybe one day…
“I used to wake up early and watch the sun rise over the harbor,” Eva continued, eyes locked on some distant memory. “The sea is almost always placid in the morning. Not a ripple. This is when the fishermen return, but most ships have to wait for the winds and tide to weigh anchor. You can almost forget how cruel and unforgiving the sea can be. Then, when the storm assails, it’s like a different world. The blue waters turn gray and frothy, the ships shatter like twigs against the rocks on the shore, and the hail punches through glass windows and cracks the cobbles in the alleys.” She pushed herself up.
Dietrich tried to follow her gaze. She was staring toward the hazy range of Langbart Mountains, topped silver with snow. Closer, the forest was green, dappled with a filthy blanket, and closer still, inside the castle walls, men sweated in the heat of their shops, repairing tacks and shields. Five months since his little campaign in the south, the smiths were still resupplying the corps. The outer yard teemed with hard labor and busy feet. From above, everyone looked like a mop of dark hair.
The snow might remain on the Langbart peaks throughout the year, but the passages in the Eisen Valley would clear soon, and he would have to go Ostfort. He didn’t want to leave Eva behind, in his father’s clutches. He didn’t want Amadea with him. And he certainly didn’t want to sire a child with her. But life wasn’t fair, and his hatred for his father only grew by the day.
“Is that all you wanted?” Eva asked.
Dick frowned. “What?”
“To ask me if I’m cold?”
Dick took a deep breath. “No, I wanted to tell you I’m going to get you away from here.”
Eva glanced at him from the corner of her eye, her lips curled down in disdain. “You will free me?”
Dick grimaced. “Well, not quite—”
She slapped him. It was so sudden he didn’t even get to blink. Her forefinger brushed against his eye and it filled with tears instantly. Then, his fine heeled shoes slipped on the treacherous ice again, and he flailed for support. His hand found purchase on Eva’s small breasts.
She slapped him again.
“Stop doing that,” he moaned, his cheek on fire, his eyes watering. He couldn’t really see her, and for some reason, he knew she wasn’t going to stop at just two slaps. “Stop! Please! Listen!”
“I don’t want to listen to any more of your lies,” Eva hissed, all prim, ill-practiced fury, he noticed as the burning sensation in his eye lessened. She wasn’t used to violence, and she seemed shocked by her own deed.
“I mean it. Honestly. I don’t want you to stay in this castle.”
Eva folded her arms, probably to keep herself from lashing out again. “And where do you want me to be then?”
Dick tried to grin. “With me?”
Slap! “You are a pig!”
“Please stop! Listen! Eva! As long as your father is alive, Old Fa…my father will keep you as his hostage. He might even marry you off to one of my cousins, and until you’ve birthed half a dozen sons that guarantee Monrich’s claim to Enissia, you won’t have any say in your life.”
“Instead I should come with you?”
Dietrich straightened, wiping his cheeks with a silk napkin. “Do you have a better idea?”
She seemed to deflate a little. He didn’t know quite why, but he figured she didn’t quite relish whatever the First Citizen had in store for his own daughter. Guessing how Old Fart treated his own children, and what he had planned for Mina, Eva’s destiny couldn’t be any brighter.
He raised his hands in a placating manner, but it also gave him an opportunity to swat her hands away, should she decide to slap him again. “What will it take for you to like me?”
Eva was thoughtful for a moment. Then she smiled. “All you need to do is stop being a self-centered, self-loving, arrogant, pompous, inconsiderate, lying, treacherous, manipulative, greedy, spiteful, cowardly animal.”
Dick offered his own smile. “Maybe a compromise? No, wait!”
“Well?”
“You can—” He heard a jangle of metal. Looking into the castle, he saw Eva’s guard walk past the balcony doors, trying to pretend disinterest. When he looked toward them, Dick wagged his fingers in a dismissive manner. “Off you go, little warrior.” Once the soldier was out of sight, he focused back on Eva. “You can come with me. I promise I will not impose my will on you. I swear. Give me time to learn from my mistakes. Give me time to make it up to you. And if you still hate me by then, you will be free to go. I will even secure silver for you, so you can make a life on your own, if you wish.”
“What about Nicole?”
“Both of you,” Dick added hurriedly.
“So, King Ulaf has agreed to hand us over into your custody?
Dick hesitated. “Not really…” Slap! He should have anticipated it. “If you slap me one more time, I will leave, and you will be your own.”
“As always, you are nothing but a liar, Dick,” Eva said with genuine bitterness in her tone.
“I will find a way,” he said. “I will. I promise.” He was surprised by the honesty in his words, and the fact he felt moved by his commitment. But he did intend to make it up to Eva. He really wanted her to like him. Who knew, if he somehow managed to get rid of Old Fart and Amadea, she might agree to share his bed.
At the moment, that notion seemed more challenging than somehow bringing Enissia under Monrich’s domain.
“Please don’t tell anything to Nicole. She hates me, and she may decide to do something foolish. And you must not tell anything to my sister or my wife, either. If you do, you might never see the outside of this castle ever again. Please.”
Eva nodded weakly.
Dick lowered his arms.
“So, what are you going to do, then?” Eva was curious—hopeful, he realized. She tried to act aloof and spiteful, but she genuinely sought escape from her prison. She might feel all he ever said were lies, but in her despair, they were all she had.
I don’t know. Yet. “I can’t share the details. Just be ready. When the moment comes, don’t ask any questions, and do not hesitate.”
“But you’re going to Ostland,” Eva said in a low, dejected voice.
Dietrich shivered. He was really getting cold. He would need Crispin to prepare a nice warm bath for him, and some fortified wine. “Don’t worry about that.”
The soldier was back, standing in the door, staring at him. Dick knew he could not bully the knight, as the man took orders from Voytech. Gingerly, Dick walked past the man, into the quiet, cold hallway of
the castle. He looked at Eva.
Her face was hard. Maybe she was acting, for the guard’s sake, or maybe she didn’t really believe his words. Dick knew he couldn’t let things be as they were. He had to win her over. He had to make her like him. And that meant spiriting her away from under his father’s heel. It wasn’t going to be easy; but then, nothing was ever easy. Being a prince was a chore.
“I will help you,” he promised.
“Farewell on your journey, Prince Dietrich,” she said. “Make sure you do not get kidnapped this time.”
Dick paused. He wasn’t sure if he was amused or infuriated. He nodded vaguely. I sure will keep that in mind. He headed back to the comfort and warmth of his chambers.
CHAPTER 4
He Must Die
“The price on a man’s life? A fistful of pride.”
—LAZAR THE CONFESSOR, DEATHRUNG CYCLES, MONRICH FOLKLORE, TIME UNKNOWN
22nd Day of the Month of the Blizzard
Mina rarely ventured into Eisenstar. She only did it when occasion called, to see the small folk, to bless a craft competition among the town’s ladies, to sample new clothes, or to taste a new pie. Sometimes she went when her cousins begged that she give them a tour of the capital, or when Father did one of his marches, taking the entire court with him.
Never at night, though.
Never in disguise.
Eisenstar was an ugly place, in her mind. She had read about the cities of the world, and all of them had wide, clean avenues, parks full of trees and flowers, squares where people could stand and watch puppet shows, and beautiful houses where the rich retreated for their nightly balls.
Her father’s capital was a lump of wet, miserable stone and fortifications, with more towers than marble statues, built in circle upon circle of siege walls. The castle straddled a big part of the city, stretched from wall to wall, laid out north to east, controlling the gates and the better quarters. The rest of Eisenstar sprawled in tight, narrow rows of houses, following the slope of the hills underneath, hiding in the shadows of the cannon houses on top of the battlements. Over the years, the city had grown beyond the confines of its bulwarks, and there were new villages all around the ramparts, spewing sooty smoke into the night. One day, they might become big enough for Father to warrant building another siege wall around them.
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