by K. M. Shea
“Lady Gabrielle and Master Roland, it is good to see you both again,” King Henrik said, a smile still curling on his lips.
“We must say the same, Your Majesty,” Puss chimed in.
Gabrielle studied the monarch, taking in the kind light in his eyes and the deep smile lines around his mouth. If my embarrassment can make him laugh, I suppose my pride can handle it. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“I’m surprised we caught up to you so swiftly, although I suspect we are traveling in a similar route. You are staying here?” King Henrik asked, gesturing to The Turtle & Doves.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Excellent. Please, rest yourself and take a drink with Steffen, my men, and me,” King Henrik said before swiveling. “Steffen? Steffen—by my swan crest, why are you still skulking in the carriage?”
Steffen was as perfect as a portrait when he descended from the carriage. Every strand of his gold hair was in place, a perfect smile pasted on his lips. The look almost pushed Gabrielle back a step. Never before had he given her such a posed smile.
“Good afternoon, Lady Gabrielle,” Steffen said, bending forward in a shallow bow. “How delightful it is to see you again.”
Puss and Gabrielle exchanged looks. “It’s good to see you, too, Your Highness,” Gabrielle said, confused by the stiffness of his conduct.
King Henrik frowned at Prince Steffen’s odd behavior, but Timo ignored it. “I believe you wished to take this party indoors, Your Majesty?” Timo asked.
“Yes, you are right. Tell me, Lady Gabrielle, what is your latest feat?” King Henrik asked.
“Apparently I led a good portion of the village on a goose chase,” Gabrielle said, leading the way indoors. The inside of The Turtle & Doves was tidy and stuffed to the brim with knitting materials. It was a little smaller than the other inns in which she and Puss had stayed, as Jagst received less traffic than Kinzig, Lech, Wied, or any of the other villages they had seen. The inn only had three rooms, but the elderly couple who ran it—Michi and Dano—were spry, entertaining hosts.
“Gabrielle acquired the golden goose from a fairy individual who was troubling some of the residents of Jagst,” Puss said, as quick as ever to slip in his own fashioning of the story.
“How noble of you,” King Henrik said.
Gabrielle opened her mouth to tell the king how menacing the little old man was, when Michi and Dano scuttled into the common room.
“I thought I heard you, dearie. Son-in-Law Number One just told me you were back from your forest adventures,” Michi said. She was so short she barely poked over the bar, and as she talked she knitted a tiny baby jacket of soft, saffron-colored yarn.
“Dear me, you’ve brought some friends,” Dano said, mopping his forehead with a starched handkerchief as he peered across the taproom. “Well, I’ll be. Michi, it’s King Henrik,” Dano said, pointing to the king’s gold crown.
“Bless my soul, it is. You’ve grown so big, Your Majesty,” Michi said, her white hair glowing in contrast to the shade of the inn.
Another smile played on King Henrik’s lips. “Thank you,” he said.
“We were at your christening. You were such a red-faced babe,” Michi said, putting her knitting aside.
“Sit down, Your Majesty. What can we get for you?” Dano asked.
“We are in need of beverages—I fear Lady Gabrielle has run herself ragged and needs to be refreshed,” King Henrik said, although he and Timo sat at the bar.
“I’ll be right back—I’ll get Son-in-Law Number Three to bring out a tray of food,” Michi said, disappearing into the kitchens.
Gabrielle grinned in amusement at the familiar but cherished reception. Michi and Dano had welcomed her to the inn in a similar matter—having already heard about her adventures from other villages.
“It’s impressive to see an old woman under five feet push your father around,” Gabrielle said to Steffen.
“If you say so, my lady.” Steffen’s stiff formality created a wall between them, even though he wore a smile.
Surprised by his reaction, Gabrielle glanced at the occupied king and guards before shifting all of her focus on the prince. “Is something wrong?”
“Of course not, my lady. Why would you ask that?” Steffen said. He left her side and seated himself at the end of the line on the bar.
Gabrielle frowned. By the buckle of my new sword belt, he’s a horrible liar.
Dano slid the prince a wooden mug of beer and finished getting drinks for the guards before disappearing into the back room.
“Tell me, Lady Gabrielle and Master Roland, what are your plans for your next adventure?” King Henrik asked as he beckoned Gabrielle closer.
A pumpkin-colored cat stuck its head out of the kitchen and purred when it saw Puss. The love-addled stray from Kinzig had followed them all the way to Jagst, and it never failed to evoke a reaction from Puss.
Puss hissed and crowded onto her boots until Gabrielle stooped over to pick up him. “We were going to go on a sight-seeing tour,” she said.
“A sight-seeing tour? To see what?” Timo asked, bewildered.
“A goblin colony,” Puss said, climbing onto Gabrielle’s shoulders. He looked lofty and cultured, but his ears flattened when the pumpkin-colored cat left the kitchen.
At the end of the bar, Steffen spat out his drink. “What?”
Gabrielle grinned privately, amused that Steffen’s apathetic attitude had the lifespan of a fruit fly.
“Oh, yes, I heard about that. It’s northeast, in Carabas territory, right?” Dano said, pouring Gabrielle a pint of apple cider.
“A colony, you say?” King Henrik asked, a frown returning to his face. “That is serious news indeed.”
“Not just a colony, but a fortification,” Gabrielle said. “We crossed paths with a merchant whose guards saw a glimpse of it.”
“Apparently the goblins have mentally evolved enough that they were able to build a sort of wooden outpost,” Puss said.
Timo furrowed his eyebrows. “I’ve never heard of such a thing before. Goblins don’t organize or work together.”
“They don’t, typically,” Puss acknowledged. “But with that despot ogre squatting in Carabas as long as he has, he’s fouled the lands and inspired new levels of darkness.”
“Like?” Prince Steffen asked, raising his eyebrows in disbelief.
“The example I think you would remember most clearly is the candy cottage witch, Your Highness.” Puss licked his chops in satisfaction when Prince Steffen grunted and looked away.
“You mean to tour this outpost?” King Henrik asked.
“Certainly. We like to be knowledgeable of our surroundings.” Gabrielle tried to give the king a convincing and reassuring smile. It inspired an appreciative sigh in Dominik, making her suspect she missed the mark as she was going for competent rather than dazzling.
“And if we happen to destroy it and burn it into cinders while we are there, that’s all the better,” Puss added.
“No,” Steffen said, sliding off his stool.
“You think it wouldn’t be for the better?” Puss asked, his voice innocent as he leaned forward on Gabrielle’s shoulder.
“No, I think stealing into a goblin fortification is idiotic,” Steffen said.
Gabrielle arched an eyebrow, her irritation building against him, even though she nursed warm feelings for him. First he treats me like a total stranger—when he’s the improperly informal one who discusses the way I smell and my bathing schedule—and now he insults my competence? No. “And this from the man who thought it would be a good idea to storm an evil witch’s cottage without any reconnaissance.”
Steffen opened his mouth to reply, but King Henrik cleared his throat. Steffen glanced at his father and pressed his lips tightly together. “I apologize. I should have chosen my words better. Stealing into a goblin fortification with just the two of you—yes, even if one of you is a magic cat—is unsafe.”
“There aren’t any other
options,” Gabrielle said.
“You could be satisfied seeing it from a distance.”
Gabrielle gave Steffen her best scandalized gasp. “It wouldn’t be the same!”
“And would be of little benefit besides,” Puss added.
Steffen looked at his father and then the guard commander. Both men nodded. “Then allow me to offer my services and the services of my men. We would love to join you in your scouting mission,” Steffen said, his voice lacking enthusiasm of any kind.
As if I’ll let you tag along when you’re sporting this insufferable, formal, know-it-all attitude, Gabrielle thought. “We couldn’t possibly—”
“Absolutely! Thank you for your generosity—Your Majesty, Your Highness,” Puss said.
“Puss,” Gabrielle whispered. “What are you doing?”
“I’m accepting a lovely gift. Don’t question it,” Puss hissed.
“Will we investigate the goblins this evening?” Timo asked.
“I would rather wait until tomorrow morning,” Gabrielle said.
“Goblins are more active in the evening hours. It would be best to approach them in the morning, when they are at their worst,” Puss said.
“Very well. We will prepare our weapons instead. I’ll go tell the men—if you’ll excuse me,” Timo said. He slid away from the bar, bowed, and strode from the inn—darting around a basket of yarn on his way.
“May I count on you not to leave tomorrow until my men are assembled and ready, Lady Gabrielle and Master Puss?” Steffen asked, both of his eyebrows arching towards his hairline.
“Of course, Your Highness,” Puss said sweetly. If he were a human girl, he would have been wildly batting his eyelashes.
Steffen looked unconvinced, but King Henrik patted his son’s shoulder. “I am glad you agreed to take the soldiers with you, Lady Gabrielle. I fear you have served as a poignant reminder why my people need my protection.”
“I apologize, Your Majesty,” Gabrielle said, awkwardly rubbing her hands together.
“There is nothing to apologize for. I appreciate it,” King Henrik said.
“Here we go,” Dano said, reappearing. “Some fresh bread to fill your bellies while Michi gets the fire stoked.”
“Good sir, you spoil us,” King Henrik boomed.
“You need it, Your Majesty. You could use a few more pounds on that frame of yours,” Dano said, eyeing the monarch.
“If you’ll excuse me, Your Majesty, Your Highness,” Gabrielle said. She wanted to slip out of the room before being further subjected to Steffen’s formal and borderline impolite treatment.
“Don’t let us run you out, Lady Gabrielle. Join us,” King Henrik said.
Gabrielle scrambled for a believable exit. “I would, Your Majesty, but…I…I should find that golden goose and secure it.”
Puss shifted on her shoulder but did not nay-say her words.
“I see. Good luck, Lady Gabrielle. If you gather a second procession, please send word to me,” the king said, a smile flashing across his face.
“As you wish, Your Majesty,” Gabrielle said before she fled from the inn.
“Eager to make your escape?” Puss asked when they had slipped outside, rejoining the rest of the villagers in the bustle of Jagst.
“Yes. Steffen was…”
“Acting oddly, I know,” Puss said. “I suggest you ignore it. Men are a bunch of prancing fools when it comes to matters of the heart. Goodness knows what self-inflicted drama he has cast himself into.”
Gabrielle’s heart jiggled oddly in her chest. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing. Look sharp—here comes another one of your victims,” Puss said.
“What?”
“L-lady Gabrielle?”
Gabrielle jumped in surprise and held a hand to her heart. When it resumed pounding at a normal pace, she smiled at her greeter—one of the woodcutter’s sons. “Why hello,” she said, flashing the young man—who was about her age—a smile. “I’m glad to see you. I was about to come tell your father that it is safe to return to the forest. You can have the beastly goose if you—” She stopped talking when the young man thrust a bouquet of wild flowers out in front of him.
“For you,” he said.
“Oh, thank you,” Gabrielle said. She hesitated a moment before taking them and offering the woodcutter’s son a gentle smile. “It is very kind of you. But about the goose. It’s positively…and he’s gone,” Gabrielle said when the young man blushed bright red and fled before she could finish her sentence.
“Yet another heart stolen,” Puss dryly said.
“Quiet, you,” Gabrielle said, sniffing her sweet-smelling flowers. “At least I haven’t strung one of them along so far that they wander after me—like you have.”
“I’ve noticed you aren’t so defensive about your looks these days,” Puss said. “You haven’t tried uglifying yourself in weeks.”
“I haven’t felt the need to,” Gabrielle said. “Before, it was self-defense.”
“Perhaps, but you are almost more comfortable with yourself,” Puss said. “You were always beautiful, yes, but your dislike of your situation always bled through. You were sorry about your looks and found them embarrassing. You are no longer self-conscious, and you do not attempt to slug a lad if he gives you a gift—as the woodcutter’s son did.”
“Thank you,” Gabrielle said.
“You’re very welcome. But there was wisdom in your words. We had better round up the goose lest it is loosed upon the countryside.”
“Right.” Gabrielle made her way to the duck pond. A cloud passed in front of the sun, and she shivered.
“Lady Gabrielle,” the carpenter said, joining her. “I see the young woodcutter successfully delivered his gift.” He kept his eyes on Gabrielle’s flowers.
“Yes,” Gabrielle said, her muscles growing rigid as she started to walk with more caution. I better step quickly. He reminds me of some of the worst Ilz village boys. There were plenty of villagers in the road. He couldn’t possibly try anything dangerous in such a public place, but she still didn’t like the way he leered at her.
“Did you give him anything in return?” the carpenter asked.
Gabrielle stopped walking. “I beg your pardon?”
“No? I suppose as a lady, you must be discreet,” the carpenter said.
Puss hissed, spitting at the man. “I advise you leave off, sir, or you’ll find yourself the victim of magic,” he said before growling in Gabrielle’s ear. “I think I understand why you have grown comfortable—it’s because we haven’t run into any imbeciles like this one.”
Gabrielle would later smile at the cat’s words, but she didn’t dare remove her cold expression. Instead, she laid a hand on the pommel of her sword, hiding her actions with the bouquet of flowers. “I agree with Puss. Good day,” she said, turning her back on the man.
“Wait just a moment,” the carpenter said. He reached for her wrist—as Gabrielle hoped he would. She grasped her sword and unsheathed it, but as Gabrielle turned, the carpenter was pulled backward by none other than Steffen.
“Do not dare to lay a hand on Lady Gabrielle without her consent,” Steffen said, his voice as dark as a moonless night.
Gabrielle lowered her sword, heartened Steffen was there to back her up—for who would nay-say a prince?
“No, do not dare to look upon her,” Steffen continued. “If I hear that you have so much as glanced at her wrong, I will drag you to Castle Brandis. The royal family does not take kindly to men harassing innocent women.”
“I was only thanking the lady for her service to Jagst.” The carpenter’s voice had taken on a pious tone.
“You’ve thanked her enough. Move along,” Steffen snapped.
The carpenter doffed his hat to Steffen and kept his eyes off Gabrielle before he turned on his heels and hurried through Jagst, ignoring the scowls the other villagers were giving him.
“Is this a normal occurrence for you, Gabi?” Steffen asked, his tone dis
tracted as he watched the man flee. “Random men wanting to claim you as their own, I mean.”
Gabrielle slid her sword back in its scabbard, pleased with the click it made, and with the return of Steffen’s comfortable familiarity. “It’s been a while, but yes.”
“And the flowers? A token of affection?”
“From a benign admirer,” Puss said.
“Gabi?” Steffen asked, waiting to hear it from her lips.
“Puss is right. The woodcutter’s son gave them to me—as a sweet gesture,” Gabrielle said.
Steffen finally turned around to face her. His thoughtful eyes traced over her face. “I’m sorry.”
Heartened by the warmth in his attention, Gabrielle tilted her head and smiled. “For what? You are not responsible for the actions of others.”
“Perhaps not, but I didn’t understand—I never dreamed it would be difficult for you to be so, so comely,” Steffen said.
Gabrielle shrugged. “It happens less often now. In my hometown, it was much worse.”
Steffen shook his head. “No wonder love is so important to you.”
“Yes.”
Puss cleared his throat and eyed the prince.
Steffen shook his head once and rolled his shoulders back. “My apologies, Lady Gabrielle,” he said, his politeness wedged back in place.
Gabrielle’s heart ached at the reversal. “No, thank you, Your Highness,” she said, her voice quiet.
“If you’ll excuse me.” Steffen bowed stiffly and walked back to the inn.
Why is he acting like this? I haven’t acted like a silly twit over him. If he suspected I liked him, I would think he has the frankness to say something.
Steffen hesitated in the doorway. “Gabi, if you have any trouble with that dog again, tell me—or my men.”
“It won’t be necessary. Next time, I’ll just stab him,” Gabrielle said lazily.
Steffen’s mouth warred between a smile and a frown before he bowed again and slipped inside the inn.
Gabrielle sighed.
“Humans.” Puss wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Always dancing around a subject and failing to address it.”
“What?”
“Nothing. Where’s that goose?”