Before the Fairytale: The Girl With No Name (Seventh Night)

by Iscah

  Leifhound laid the baby carefully against the girl's shoulder and showed her how to move her hands to support it properly. "Is this my work?" the girl asked. "I told you I know nothing of babies."

  "You'll learn quick enough," Leifhound said. "Besides, I know how to care for him. I just need you to hold him, so I can keep my hands free. Come along, let's collect my other brothers."

  The infant prince, recently fed and clean, snuggled contently against the girl's shoulder. Dolfe, Angsfel, and Pieter who were fifteen, thirteen, and ten needed no more than a word to collect them for a trip to the meadow, but Huntsen and Coiler, six and four, proved more of a challenge. Leifhound used his free arms to gather up little Coiler, while Dolfe plucked Huntsen off the dresser.

  Once they were outdoors, the little princes ran for the gate under their own power. The girl followed as quickly as she could while taking care with the baby and shading his eyes from the sun as Leifhound directed her.

  They passed the washing women and crossed a wooden bridge to the large expanse of sloping meadow beyond. The young princes ran like rabbits freed from a cage, darting here and there. Angsfel and Pieter were soon swatting at each other with wooden swords while Dolfe chased after Coiler. Leifhound led the girl to sit in a place by the tall grass. Keeping half an eye on his brothers, he showed her how to offer the baby a finger to hold.

  "We have other nursemaids, but they work in shifts," he explained. "Once Michter starts sleeping through the night, I think mother will be fully well and not need the extra help, but she's not had a full night's sleep yet since the birth."

  The girl found she did not mind so much. Little prince Michter was teaching her the delights of babies.

  "I thought this was a nice solution for the short term," Leifhound said. "It allows me to keep you close without drawing attention. No one takes too much notice of the nursemaid."

  "Aren't you running things with your father gone?" the girl asked.

  "Not really," said Leifhound, tickling Michter, who made a delightful little sound. "We have a steward who runs things."

  "So you just spend your days lounging in meadows?"

  "I spend my days helping my mother look after my six younger brothers, and while my father is gone, I stand in for him at official functions. There are my own studies of course, though I've reached a point where I mainly study as I need and please." Leifhound took Michter in his arms and spoke softly. "It may not seem like work to you, but I am the heir to the throne with six younger brothers who might gain a crown if I met a misfortune. Kingdoms are torn apart with such dark games, so this play and bonding is important. I figure my brothers are less likely to rise against me if I treat them well, and they have childhoods full of fond memories with me. How do you wish harm on someone who changed your diapers, tended your scraped knee, or taught you to fire a bow?"

  The girl considered this and saw the wisdom in it. "Perhaps you should speak more kindly of Dolfe then?" she suggested.

  Leifhound smiled. "Dolfe makes no pretense of being a scholar, but I promise you I do treat him well. He and I have talked extensively about what his future role might be. There are benefits to being the beloved brother of a king or future king. I'm planning to make him Captain of the Guard. He's not the sort of clever that ought to be running a country, but he's a fine swordsman and archer. He's tall, which forces men to look up to him. I think he'll make a fine Captain, and I'll keep him close and see to it he's comfortable."

  "And Angsfel?"

  "Too young to cast in a definite role, but I think maybe an ambassador."

  "Pieter?"

  "An advisor, possibly my new steward when the current one retires."

  "Huntsen?"

  "Now, you're trying to cast me in the role of fortuneteller," Leifhound said in his laughing way. "Do you begin to understand what the job of the king is?"

  "To rule people," the girl guessed.

  Leifhound shook his head. "Maybe elsewhere, but Uritz is a country of free men who do not like to be ruled. No, in Uritz, the king acts as the ultimate judge. He settles disputes that can not be handled by local magistrates and oversees foreign affairs. But my father says the real job of the king is to make sure he has the best people for each job. The steward runs the family holdings, but the king appoints the steward and removes him if he fails at the post. No one man could possibly run a kingdom, so the king's true job is delegation."

  "Then why do men bow to you?"

  "Respect," Leifhound said. "The king must be a wise and discerning man. If he fails at his job, there will always be someone happy to remove him from it."

  "And are you wise, Leif?" she asked, trying out the nickname.

  He grinned at her presumption. "Perhaps not yet, but I do fancy myself as discerning."

  "How so?"

  "I can read a person's character in their eyes," he bragged. "I always know when someone's lying to me."

  "But you accused me of lying," the girl pointed out.

  "I remember," he said and handed the baby back to her. "I made the mistake of trusting the facts rather than myself. I was very glad to be wrong."

  "Trusting the facts?"

  Leifhound lay back on the grass, stretching out with his hands laced behind his head. "Well, you didn't look anything like the boy in the graveyard. No amount of makeup or costume could explain the difference, so I took it as evidence of a lie."

  A smell caught the girl's attention, and she wrinkled her nose.

  "I was glad to be wrong about you," Leifhound said with his usual grin. "It proved I was right."

  The girl realized the smell was coming from the baby, which led to another realization; princes poop.

  Chapter 23

  The girl turned thirteen while she was in Uritz though she had long ago lost track of her birthday. The Elder had come from a generation that counted age by winters rather than specific dates.

  Leifhound was right that people paid little attention to her while she held the baby. He was able to keep her close and speak little remarks under the pretense of attending his baby brother. The queen held the child more and more herself as her strength returned. While the girl enjoyed her time with baby Michter, she did not mind his return to his mother. This left her free for other things.

  Leifhound taught her to dance, though he did not dance with her himself. Angsfel was shy a partner at a birthday party for the steward's daughter, and she was the right height to fill in. Angsfel was fairer than Leifhound, nearly blonde like Dolfe and Coiler. He was also closest to the girl's age and had the most beautiful face she had ever seen on a boy, but he was cold in manner and held little attraction for her.

  Pieter discovered her limited knowledge of the Southern and Eastern Mountain tongues and came to her for study help with his languages. In turn, he introduced her to books on the ancient tongues. Pieter had the darkest hair of the brothers, most like his mother. She liked him, but it was Leifhound's company she sought.

  She found herself hanging on Leifhound's every word, even when he spoke nonsense. She noticed he was far more polite to courtiers than he had ever been to her. She scolded him about it, which amused him. "But with you, little witch, I'm always perfectly honest. Isn't that better?"

  While she rankled over it, she decided it was.

  He took her on a hunt with the premise of keeping an eye on Huntsen and taught her how to shoot a bow. Her aim was imperfect, but she found a spell to better it. She cherished the warmth he had left on her hand during the lesson. He seemed to forget Merit, though he worried more and more about the news his father might bring with his return. While he did not speak of love at all, she believed his little touches, a ruffling of hair, a playful tap on the nose, a guiding hand on her shoulder, spoke some affection. She laughed with him, argued with him, and hoped he would kiss her again as herself but dared not ask him to.

  The possibility of engagement to the little Tivin princess hung over both of them like a dark shadow, and the girl prayed that the Tivans had accepted
a younger brother in Leifhound's stead.

  She climbed up to Leifhound's room sometimes to practice faces in his mirror. He always welcomed her, though he often lay on his bed reading until she left. While his humor was sometimes cutting, he was never unprincely. Her own tongue grew sharper to keep up with him.

  She climbed up to his window late one day to find him absent from the room. Before she could settle herself at the vanity or check the bedside to see what book he was reading, Leifhound flung the door open. And before she could apologize for the intrusion, he closed the door, caught her up, and planted an enthusiastic kiss on her forehead.

  "Father's just sent word from Snow Port," he said giddily. "The Tivans wouldn't take any of us. The little princess's grandfather thinks she's far too young for an engagement. Shrewd old man, probably waiting to see if his son can manage a proper heir."

  "So you're free to choose your bride now?" the girl asked.

  "I'll have to wait 'til father gets home to know that," Leifhound said. "But at least I shouldn't have to wait fourteen years. That, my darling, might be unbearable."

  He had too much energy to sit still, so they climbed down the wall and up the mountainside (Leifhound loved climbing) to do some stargazing. He allowed her to sit close and put an arm around her shoulder while he pointed out constellations.

  She would have happily spent the night under the stars, but he made her climb down when she started yawning. "We don't want to worry anyone."

  Chapter 24

  Leifhound's father returned in a foul mood, though that was soon lightened by little Michter. There was a grand ball to celebrate the king's return, and the girl was able to attend as the baby holder. She had hoped the king might give her a favorable look since she had become so close to his sons, but as best she could tell, he did not see her at all. The queen spoke kindly but never asked her about anything that did not have to do with the baby.

  She watched Leifhound dance with the well-dressed ladies and hugged Michter close until the queen asked for him. For the first time, discontent blossomed inside her. She wanted Leifhound to speak to her and kiss her forehead openly and publicly. She wanted to call the queen mother too.

  Though the weather was beginning to grow colder, the princes were out the next day on the meadow. Even baby Michter was bundled in extra layers. They spread a blanket on the ground for him so they could encourage him to try sitting. Leifhound ran with his younger brothers and bested Dolfe in a wooden sword duel before coming to sit beside the blanket.

  "Father told me last night he has no specific plans for marrying me off," Leifhound confided, while he watched his brothers investigate an animal burrow further down the hill.

  "Does that mean you'll have your pick?" the girl asked.

  "My pick of girls who'll have me," Leifhound replied in his usual good humor. "Believe it or not, there are girls who would turn down a prince's offer. There are some girls at court who don't like me. I had trouble remembering their names, and they took offense. They probably are horrified at the idea of being married to such a careless husband."

  "I think it would be nice to be your wife," the girl said softly.

  The prince laughed. "Oh, you'd be a fun wife. Never boring," he said before looking at her. "You're too young to be thinking about marriage, little witch."

  "I'm not that young," she said, propping up little Michter. "And I'll grow. Is it wrong to admit I'm fond of you?"

  The prince's smile grew rather fixed. "I thought you understood." He leaned towards her, though his brothers were still on the other end of the meadow and there was little danger of being overheard. "I'm the eldest son. I may have some options now, but I have to make a marriage that's politically favorable. A nameless girl with no father wouldn't do, even if you were the proper age."

  The girl said nothing, but the prince saw her disappointment. "Don't worry. We'll still see each other every day. I told you I'd take care of you, and I will. It's my plan to raise your station, but I turn eighteen soon. I'd like to be married by twenty. That may sound impatient, but consider that, until I have an heir, Dolfe is next in line to the throne. He will make a fine Captain, but I truly believe a terrible king. If I could name Pieter, I would, but after Dolfe, there's Angsfel and...I'm uncertain what sort of man he will be.

  "Besides, I told you a king's job is to get the right people in the right jobs. And you, my dear, would be wasted as a wife."

  She gave him a glare that demanded explanation.

  Leifhound reached a hand down to play with Michter as he often did to cover the fact they were talking. "Little one, do you even understand what a wife does for her husband?"

  "I know what a wife does," the girl said shortly.

  Leifhound looked at her skeptically. "A wife bears her husband's children and manages his household. An unfortunate woman must manage her husband as well. A queen's household is larger than most. She has other duties to support her husband, acting as hostess and diplomatic support. My mother oversees the education of her seven sons, and five to seven children is considered an average sized family in Uritz. I know women with thirteen and twenty. Do you think they have time for their own study? Or to work a trade? A queen is a manager, and your talents would be wasted in that position."

  "You think I couldn't do it?" the girl asked. "Or that it's not an important job?"

  "It's an extremely important job," Leifhound agreed easily. "I have the highest respect for my mother, and I'm quite sure you could handle it. However I do not have such a low opinion of women to think you're the only one. Many women are very good managers. But you have unique skills and knowledge that would be of very little benefit to a queen. You're a healer, who can change her face at will. I can think of a thousand fantastic things only you could do. Would it be wise of me to take you away from them to manage a household, which another woman could do just as well or better?"

  "Would you have me never marry?" the girl asked.

  Leifhound frowned thoughtfully. "I'd prefer it. It's not like you need a husband to care for you."

  "You don't think a woman might want a husband, the way a man wants a wife, for reasons other than necessity?" the girl asked indignantly.

  "I suppose," Leifhound conceded. "But you would chafe under the yoke most men place on their wives."

  "Are you most men?" she snapped.

  Leifhound disarmed her with a compliment. "See how clever you are? I can't contradict you without humbling myself. Though perhaps I'm not so extraordinary as you think me."

  The girl pretended to be preoccupied with the baby, but Leifhound lifted her chin to make her look at him. "I have no doubt you could gain the sort of political clout needed to wed a prince in a decade or two. Uritz is not so rigid with its nobility as elsewhere. And I do have six brothers. I'd welcome you as a sister-in-law, but I can't wait a decade to marry."

  The girl pulled back from his touch and gathered the baby in her lap, so she would not risk him falling from her distraction. "Do you think I could so easily substitute one prince for another, as if which brother didn't matter?!"

  Leifhound gave her an assessing look. "You want a crown?"

  "Oh, may your father live forever!" she snapped. She wanted to storm off with the baby but settled for snuggling little Michter to her. She kissed the baby's head, so she could blink back tears without Leifhound seeing.

  "Are you in love with me, little witch?" he asked as though the idea both intrigued and surprised him.

  The girl thought carefully before she answered. Leifhound vexed her, but she was increasingly fond of him despite his faults. "I think...if I saw you every day...I would be."

  "I'm flattered."

  The girl thought further about how it would be to watch Leifhound marry another woman for political reasons and shuddered. "If you won't even consider me, I should leave Uritz."

  "I don't want to chase you off," Leifhound said earnestly.

  "Why?" she challenged. "Because you think I'm clever and want to see me every d
ay? Because you want to take care of me?"

  Doubt and regret did not sit well on Leifhound's features. He fought them off and replaced them with a cynical smile. "You would make fidelity difficult, wouldn't you?" he sighed. "My future bride deserves that much from me. I don't want you to go, but it's not my desire to be cruel either."

  "I can't stay," the girl said sadly.

  Leifhound plucked up a blade of grass and broke it slowly into pieces. "Make me two promises before I let you go?"

  The girl made no response but gave her attention.

  "I know you were born there, but don't give Gourlin the advantage of your talents. Gourlin's king has taken to calling himself an Emperor. It's a fool's errand to invade Uritz, but if they had you, they might manage it or at least become foolhardy enough to make the attempt."

  "I don't see how I'd make a difference," the girl said.

  There was no laughter left on Leifhound's face. "No one knows how the desert grew, but I suspect your father or someone like him to be behind it. If so, I'm sure you'll be equally impressive with time. I hope you've come to love Uritz enough to preserve the land of free men."

  "I'll swear loyalty to no emperor," the girl vowed. "What's the other promise?"

  "Never marry unless you find a man worthy of you."

  The girl gave the prince a wry smile. "And how shall I measure that?"

  "High or low, he must be man of unerring goodness. Anyone less would take advantage of your talents."

  "Like you wanted to do?" she asked.

  "Yes," the prince admitted. "Though in my defense, I only planned to use you to preserve my peace and Uritz's freedom. Many others would be less high-minded."

  Chapter 25

  While the girl packed her things, Leifhound sulked as only a youth can sulk when he realizes a rainbow cannot be kept in a pocket. He tried tempting her with Angsfel, guilting her with Michter, and reasoning with her over Pieter's education, even bribing her with gold, but the girl was resolute. At length the prince did as everyone must when a rainbow fades, accept it and hope for another.