Romana's Freedom (Soul Merge Saga Book 1)

by M. P. A. Hanson

  “Oh, he isn’t!” She replied. “He’s just the heir to the elven crown.”

  “And the heir to the elven throne must marry an elf.”

  “To be honest with you, we’d be better off swapping princes.” Beatrice replied. “I heard the King and queen were hoping their son would fall for a human, I know how racist it sounds but it’s truth. They were trying to get me to agree to an arranged marriage with him.”

  “You didn’t want to?”

  “That elf spoiled me for all other men when we talked at the last ball.” She replied wistfully, sitting down.

  Romana followed her example. “Do you know if he feels the same?”

  “It’s not something I could easily bring up in a conversation.” She replied, snappily. It was with that show of spine that Romana decided she liked Beatrice. “But I suppose he’ll be too busy conversing with you for me to say anything. You are the mysterious elven lady that no one had ever heard of before, just like I’m the duchess no one’s heard of before.”

  “We’re two of a kind.” Romana observed “I haven’t ever really been in the limelight; I’ve been studying for the last two years in the Great Desert.”

  “What’s it like there?” Beatrice asked.

  “Hot.” Romana replied, smiling when Beatrice burst out laughing. “And the time spent was really wasted I suppose. I didn’t discover anything new.”

  “Still, it must have been interesting.”

  “I suppose it was—” But she was cut of by the blaring of trumpets.

  “All rise and greet their royal majesties, King Rolf and Queen Claire of the human realms, their son, His Royal Highness Prince Marten of Morendor, and His Royal Highness, Prince Endis of The Elven Kingdom!” The announcer boomed.

  Everyone who had previously been sitting, rose as one, and bowed their heads in respect, as the king and queen, followed by the two princes entered through the doorway, and headed towards their seats.

  “Be seated.” The king said in a rough voice, accented with age.

  There was a rustling of movement while the women arranged their many skirts, Romana among them, remembering what the maids had told her. Prince Marten raised an eyebrow at the movement, and she stared back in response.

  “It seems once again I am outshined by you, Lady Romana.” The queen interrupted, diverting her gaze from Marten.

  “Oh, never your majesty.” She replied, “You can see how much effort went into making the masterpiece you’re wearing.”

  “Thank-you, I think that might be the first honest compliment from another woman in years.”

  “I should hope not, your majesty. If any of your dresses are half as splendid as the one you’re wearing tonight then every compliment would have been honest.” Her voice was sincere, because in truth, it wasn’t the dress; it was the queens aura of contentment that made her seem so beautiful.

  “If any of my dresses have ever matched up to yours then I should think myself a very lucky woman indeed.” She replied. Okay, Romana thought, there was only so much pomp she could take.

  “Where is Princess Arianne?” She asked. “I would have thought she would be learning the ways of such conferences at her age.”

  “Oh, not yet.” The queen replied “I hope to keep her happy in her childhood for a few more years before I force any of this upon her.”

  “Very thoughtful of you.” Romana replied.

  “I have a feeling she’ll be a wonderful flower when she blooms into court though.” The queen added. “She’s already more than I ever could have hoped for.” A statement that was full of maternal pride, “What about you? How are you with children, Lady?”

  “I adore them.” She replied “they’re such wonderful blessings.”

  “I don’t think I’d have much luck as a mother,” Beatrice suddenly inserted “I have younger siblings and we argued constantly even when they were children.” Clever, Romana thought. Beatrice was trying to put the queen off forcing Prince Marten to marry her, while at the same time putting Romana forward for the job. The intricacy of the subplots behind such a simple question shocked her for an instant, before she returned to the conversation.

  “I wasn’t uncertain about children at all when I was first married.” The queen replied, “it was even better that they would be raised in a place where I’d have every help I could dream of.”

  “The first course is about to be served.” The announcer called.

  “I need to get one of those.” Beatrice muttered to herself, even as servants rushed forwards with trays of soup. “Your majesty, Lady Romana was just telling me how she’s spent the last two years studying culture in the deserts.”

  “Did you indeed?” The queen asked. “I’ve never been. How was it?”

  “At times, rather fearsome,” Romana replied. “While there are wonderful tribes of people there, the ones I stayed with were frequently attacked by raiders.”

  “Oh, how very terrifying that must have been!” The queen replied “I don’t know that I would have been brave enough to stay past the first attack, yet you stayed for two years? I must confess myself in awe of your courage.”

  “I fear it was all for nothing.” She replied. “I didn’t discover anything new there, if anything I only witnessed what books had already told me. But that’s my only regret. For the most part, the people were wonderfully welcoming, and I made various helpful friends among them.”

  “I heard there was a festival of candlelight that they hold every year on the summer solstice.” The queen ventured “Did you witness it.”

  “Yes.” Romana replied “The number of candles was astonishing. Did you know that the trail goes on for miles?”

  “That really is astounding.” The queen replied, leaning in closer.

  That evening, when the banquet and endless questioning finally abated, and Romana could leave without being noticed, she and Beatrice snuck out of the still milling crowds, to walk around the gardens.

  “It was wonderful to talk to her majesty.” Beatrice was saying, “But I still found the whole room rather claustrophobic, especially with everyone in groups talking afterwards.”

  “I understand.” She replied “I noticed you talked for a bit with Prince Endis.”

  “That was surprising actually,” Beatrice replied. “I thought that he’d be far more concentrated on you to talk to me, let alone spend an hour discussing my latest music.”

  That was another thing that Romana had discovered about Beatrice, the duchess played most musical instruments known to man, and was known to sing at most royal events.

  “Would you like to perform at the ball?” Romana asked, “There’ll be music all night, so I’m sure we could fit you in.”

  “Are you asking me to perform my music in the annual conference?” Beatrice squeaked. “I’ve never done anything this big.”

  “Didn’t you sing at her majesties last birthday? And what about at her wedding when you were only twelve.” Romana replied. “What’s so different?” As they carried on walking she had an idea. “And didn’t a certain prince say that he’d love to hear you play?”

  Beatrice blushed a deep crimson at that, “Alright then, I will.” She replied “And in return, you have to sing something as well.”

  “I can’t sing.” Romana replied, matter of fact. “You’d be dooming me to ridicule if you made me do that.”

  “I hate to say it but you’re right. If you got even one note wrong everyone there would notice.” She replied “New bargain, I’ll perform, but you have to…” She trailed off. “You have to tell me why you haven’t as much as kissed Prince Marten this entire time, even though he’s courting you.”

  Because they weren’t actually courting, she thought. Was she actually going to have to kiss him? “I guess I’ve been too nervous to feel like myself in front of everyone.” She lied “This is my first big social event, being the third child in my family. I’ve never really been on stage as it were.”

  “I guess I wouldn’t know.”
She replied. “I’ve been at the centre of things my whole life, but you’ve got nothing to worry about, I’ll get your back if something goes wrong, and I am the ruler of one of the more important duchies. No one really wants to disagree with me.”

  “I sense political blackmail.” Romana replied.

  “It’s wonderful really; I always get my way in debates, because if I were to stop sending food to Grenov for even a week, they’d starve at least a thousand people before they could arrange for another source of food. If I wanted to declare my duchy independent, all I’d have to do would be click my fingers and no one would stop me. I have the largest army in the alliance, and even though they’d win, they’d have heavy casualties, which none of them want.”

  “Clever.” Romana muttered.

  “I know.” She replied. “I thought that my advisers were kidding me when I was first told.”

  “I know I wouldn’t believe them.” She replied. “We should go back; it’s really cold out here.”

  “Autumn’s coming thick and fast.” Beatrice agreed. “It’ll be a harsh winter this year. Maybe you’ll be snowed in with no way to get back to your home in the elven kingdom. Wouldn’t that be disastrous?”

  “Wouldn’t it be even worse if you took a state visit to Elvardis, and were snowed in there?” Romana replied.

  “I will have to make sure that I arrange something with Prince Endis.” She replied, giggling.

  “I think everyone has gone.” Romana replied as they reached the front door, “I can’t hear anything from that floor.”

  As she spoke she was suddenly aware of conversation cutting off sharply in one of the rooms upstairs. The elven prince, she guessed, and his magicians.

  “Being able to hear that well must be really painful in certain situations.” Beatrice commented.

  “Yes, but my rooms are soundproofed, so I’m mostly fine.” She replied, dropping the words deliberately, sure that they would prompt the elves to start talking again about whatever it was they didn’t want her to hear.

  “Will you be alright for the ball?”

  “Of course I will.” She replied. “I’ve learned to tone my hearing down in normal situations, so that my senses function on a mainly human level.”

  “Well, goodnight.” Beatrice replied, heading over to a maid, who she asked to direct her to her rooms.

  Romana sighed slightly, and walked up to the rooms opposite the prince’s apartments. She hadn’t looked at them earlier, but now that she did, she found them luxurious in the extreme. The bath was sunk into the floor, and was really a small swimming pool, someone had already run it for her, and she had to play around trying to get her dress off for several minutes before she could get in. Clearly although the seamstresses were concerned about what the dress was going to look like, they hadn’t designed it to be removable without assistance.

  Chapter Seventeen

  COUSIN

  When she finally slipped into the frothy water, she sighed in bliss, and then allowed her elvensense to drift outwards.

  Most of the nobles were asleep. Beatrice seemed to be in the middle of complaining about how painful her dress had been while sitting down. But when her ears finally picked up on the sounds coming from the elven ambassadorial suite, she listened intently.

  “…she’s lying, there is no elven noble called Romana.” An old voice said, one of the queen’s magicians, she guessed.

  “Nathan, is it possible she’s here to hurt Marten?” Endis asked “That is the more important thing here, along with the fact that she looks similar to her; even has the same eyes.” There was a murmuring of agreement.

  “I detected no malice in her when I cast the truth spell for you. She was telling partial truth about the desert, however, so you might want to look into that. She also told the truth about it being her first conference and organising all of it. However I think we can safely say, she does not have any siblings, she does not come from Elvardis, and she is not courting the prince.” The one called Nathan replied.

  “Most likely, Prince Marten is hoping to deceive his mother and get out of marrying Beatrice of Fenkirk.” Another replied. “It does seem like the sort of thing he would do.”

  “And there is my point.” Another reminded them.

  “Oh, not this again, we’ve already gone over this Sebastian, you heard incorrectly as you went through the portal.”

  “What did he hear?” Endis asked.

  “Sebastian here is convinced he heard a kitchen maid telling a youth at the gate that ‘Romana’ was ‘off duty this week’.” One of them replied in an exasperated tone. “We have all discussed this and decided that there is no way that this woman whoever she is could be a maid or servant in this palace, because if she was the staff would be full of the news, and we haven’t heard a single thing. Not to mention that if she is she is an elf and it is illegal for her to be sold in slavery or held against her will by humans, as she would most definitely have been.” He finished wearily.

  “Not unless Marten ordered the palace staff to stay silent because he knew I’d be visiting.” Endis replied, guessing the truth with such unerring accuracy that it scared her. “Besides, how often have we come across an elf in slavery to enforce that rule, no one would remember it by now from the last case which was some few hundred years ago if memory serves.

  “I want to talk to her again,” He continued “If you would do a truth read on her. I want to know what’s going on. And I want to know why this woman can block the mind reading powers of the greatest magicians in the elven kingdom.”

  “My lord, have you considered that the child didn’t die in the fire?” Nathan asked.

  “And somehow made her way to the desert, and then managed to end up here wearing a dress that must cost thousands and pretending to be in love with my best friend and cousin?”

  “She is the right age.” Sebastian replied. “She turns nineteen this spring.”

  “What is everyone doing tomorrow morning?” Endis asked, ignoring him.

  “As far as I know, nothing is planned until the ball in the evening, but the castle’s facilities are ours to take advantage of.” One replied “I for one was planning on visiting the library here, which, did I mention was the second largest in existence?”

  “Only a dozen times Warren.” The prince replied. “Aaron and you discussed the possibility of visiting it with Marten for over half an hour tonight, remember?”

  “As for the girl, what was your plan?” Nathan asked, bringing them back to the issue at hand.

  “Drag her away from Marten at some point and ask her.” He replied. “Preferably before she does any harm. But right now, I’m going out for air, those dwarves next door are so loud my eardrums might burst.”

  “The west tower has the best view,” Aaron replied.

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because I designed it.” The one named Aaron replied.

  Romana stopped listening there, getting out of a bath gone lukewarm and drying herself off before changing into a loose fitting gown that the maids had left behind.

  Then, following the sound of elven prince’s footsteps, she made her way up the west tower silently.

  She found him standing against the edge looking over the city.

  “You said I look like someone.” She replied “Who?”

  “First tell me who you are, and where you come from.” He demanded, seemingly un-phased by her sudden appearance next to him. His eyes flashed dangerously with a hint of the wildness contained behind every elven male’s ethereal façade.

  “Ask Prince Marten.” She replied, not scared by the glimpse she’d gotten of his dangerous side. “I’m not authorised to tell you.”

  “Is that the answer to every question I could ask you?”

  “It depends upon the question.” She replied.

  He stared briefly, and then ran off, returning a mere minute later, followed by Marten.

  “Explain.” He informed his friend. “I want the truth.” />
  Marten looked at her and gestured for her to speak.

  “My name is Romana although, you are right, I am not of noble blood. I was given to the desert Slave Shop when I was an infant, and cared for there until I was sixteen, when care turned to imprisonment because of the price they hoped to sell me for.” She paused, looking around at Marten for support, he nodded. “They never told me who my parents were, or where I came from, although they knew. They kept something my mother had left from me when everything else failed to make me stay.”

  “Go on,” the elven prince replied.

  “A few months ago, Prince Marten brought me from the Slave Shop to work as a maid here, and has gradually earned my respect ever since. I was in his debt and so agreed to pretend to be his lover at this ball to prevent a forced arranged marriage, which would serve to keep the duchess of Fenkirk and himself in line.”

  “Marten, you know the law about elven servants.” Endis sighed. “She cannot stay here.” He shook his head. “After the conference, she must come back to Elvardis, there’s no alternative.”

  “What if I want to stay?” Romana inserted.

  Marten’s head whipped up so fast she thought it would disconnect from his body, eyes wide as saucers from shock he stared at her.

  “I can’t help that.” Endis replied. “We will be good to her. I promise you this.” He added to Marten

  “Can we discuss this?” Marten asked, “Privately,” he added to Romana.

  She nodded “I’ll be with Katelyn.” She inclined her head in silent question.

  “No listening.” He replied.

  “Do I still not have the right to know what people say about me?” She asked.

  “Just this once would you please not listen in on us?” He requested, even as she began to descend the ladder.

  She nodded then ran at elvenspeed to her old quarters, trusting the near invisibility that her natural speed provided to keep her identity safe.

  Katelyn was asleep in bed when she came in; so quiet and peaceful. No royals were going to split them up. “We won’t let them.” She told Katelyn in gentle elventongue, the language that was inborn with every elven child “We’ll stay together.” She stroked a strand of hair from her friend’s eyes.