by Paige Elwood
She spun on her heel to find a young man and a young woman standing behind her. The young man looked slightly startled and perhaps a little amused. The woman looked more bored than anything else.
It was him. Sarah blinked rapidly. It was the Prince in the portrait. The Prince she was here to teach was Prince Maximillian. That must mean the woman beside him was Princess Katherine. It also answered the question about what year she was in. The Prince’s betrothal took place in 1482. She glanced again at the beautiful woman beside the Prince. Her delicate features, full lips, and dark hair and eyes gave her the appearance of a movie star.
Sarah tore her eyes away from the beautiful Princess to look again at the Prince. He looked a little different from his portrait. He was less… buff. He had narrower shoulders, making him seem even taller, and a less defined jaw. He was more ‘studious librarian’ than Disney prince in the flesh, yet she still couldn’t take her eyes off him. His own eyes captivated her just as easily as the ones in the portrait.
“I’m so sorry that I startled you,” he said.
“No, no. I’m sorry. It was my fault for not paying attention,” Sarah said.
“You must be the new Tutor. I am Prince Maximillian, and this is Princess Katherine.” He indicated the woman next to him, who was currently gazing out of the window at the far end of the room as though Sarah wasn’t even there. “Most people call me Max. Or ‘Your Highness.’ I’ll leave it to you which one you choose.”
“It's an honor to meet you both.” Sarah curtsied, gathering the edges of her skirt and trying not to reveal her sneakers. The movement felt awkward — she’d never curtsied in her life. She wondered if her awkwardness was obvious to the royals in front of her, but they didn't seem either impressed or disturbed by her traditional display of respect.
“We are excited to begin our lessons,” Prince Maximillian said. “Aren’t we, Katherine?
The Princess looked up, startled. “Oh, yes of course, very excited.”
She looked Sarah over, appearing to see her properly for the first time. “That's a very fine gown you're wearing. Being a tutor must pay handsomely.”
“Actually, this dress belongs to the Queen.” Sarah blushed.
“It suits you very well,” Max said.
“How did you come to be wearing the Queen’s dress?” Katherine’s thin, haughty voice interrupted.
“It’s a funny story actually. I was attacked by bandits on my journey to the castle and arrived wearing unsuitable men's clothing.” She gave a hollow laugh.
“It sounds more distressing than funny,” Max said, aghast. “I’ve heard terrible tales of people that have fallen prey to the monsters that terrorize our borders. You were lucky to escape with your life!”
Katherine nodded in agreement, but eyed Sarah disdainfully.
“Well, yes, it was terrifying at the time,” Sarah said. “But I got to the castle safely and now I have suitable clothing, so all is well that ends well, I suppose.”
“Indeed. Shall we take a seat here?” Max said, indicating a couple of empty desks.
“Yes, perfect.” Sarah said, remembering that she was supposed to be teaching these people.
“Um, my notes were lost with my belongings. And I teach a few different subjects — so I can't remember exactly what subject it is that I’m supposed to be teaching you.”
“Oh!” Max said. “Just the arts.”
Some of the weight rolled off Sarah shoulders. The arts? That was fine. She supposed it was broad enough to cover lots of things, and she had enough knowledge to wing this. At least, she really hoped she did.
Max and the Princess took seats at two adjacent desks, and each of them placed their hands on the desk as they awaited Sarah's tutelage.
Sarah's eyes wandered to Max’s hand and landed on the ring. The ring from the castle, the one that had been in the display cabinet with his portrait. She glanced across to the Princess’ hand to see that she wore a ring eerily similar to Sarah's own. Sarah's eyes narrowed as she looked at the Princess’s ring. Something wasn’t quite right with it. It wasn't exactly the same as her own although it was extremely similar.
This could potentially be awkward, Sarah thought. Her breath was coming in shorter and shallower gasps, and the tingling sensation emanating from the ring wasn't helping to keep her calm. She pulled her breath consciously to her abdomen, calming herself quickly. Her underarms were moist with nervous perspiration. Antiperspirant was seriously under-rated.
“Um, I am just going to select a book that I need,” Sarah said, turning to the nearest bookcase, her back to the royal couple.
She yanked at the ring and managed to slip it off her finger. With a lack of other options, she placed it into her cleavage, nestled between ‘the girls’. Why did dressmakers in every single century ever forget that women had things they might want to put in a pocket too?
It was kind of hard to concentrate with the ring burning in her cleavage, but she tried her best to ignore it and grabbed a random book from the shelf. She glanced down, relieved to see Plato’s Gorgias resting in her shaking hands.
Excellent, they could discuss rhetoric. A perfect skill for a royal to have, and something that Sarah herself had studied, along with some other elements of philosophy. Besides, the Socratic method was safe, and she wouldn’t accidentally end up teaching theories or ideas that hadn’t been invented yet! She really should make some notes on safe topics to teach. It would be awkward if she accidentally mentioned Shakespeare or somebody. Her ‘history’ was their future…. the thought made her feel a little dizzy!
“So, we shall begin with rhetoric…” Sarah began turning back to the Prince and Princess. Princess Katherine didn’t even look up, much too interested in her nails, but Max was politely waiting to hear Sarah speak.
“What is rhetoric?” Sarah began loudly, hoping to attract Katherine’s attention.
The Princess looked up for a second but didn't respond. Max, however, offered his answer. “It is the art of speaking persuasively to motivate an audience.”
“Excellent!” Sarah said. “That's a pretty good definition. Have you used it before?”
“I have read a couple of books on the matter, and being part of my particular family, I have witnessed it in use a few times.”
“I imagine you have,” said Sarah. She turned her attention to the bored-looking Princess. “So, Katherine, can you give me an example of rhetoric in use?”
The Princess looked up at Sarah through her thick, dark eyelashes.
“I’m not sure,” she said, before going right back to inspecting her nails.
Well, this is going to be interesting trying to teach her, Sarah thought. Even my worst student demonstrates a bit more enthusiasm than that.
Chapter 14
Sarah glanced at Max to find him giving her a sympathetic smile. He was obviously aware of the Princess’s hostile and disinterested demeanor. Sarah found it oddly reassuring to discover that it wasn't just her that the Princess treated like this. She could see why none of the servants found her particularly pleasant. Still, Sarah was here to do a job, so she wouldn't completely let Katherine off the hook yet.
“Okay, so let's look now at rhetorical devices.” Sarah began. “Can either of you name any rhetorical devices?”
“Antithesis,” Max said animatedly. “Where you make a connection between two different things.”
“Yes!” Sarah said. “Can you give me an example?”
“’Many are called, but few are chosen.’”
Sarah wracked her brains to remember where she’d heard that one. “From the gospel?”
“Yes, Matthew,” Max said.
“Excellent example.” Sarah smiled. In fact, it was the first time she’d heard that particular example.
Students normally favored ‘that's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind’ from Neil Armstrong or a Shakespeare quote. However, none of those things would be within Max's frame of reference so the gospel was a perfect choi
ce.
“Any more?” She asked, looking pointedly at Katherine. She raised her eyes once more and simply shrugged.
“How about hyperbole?” Sarah said. “Do you know what hyperbole is, Katherine?”
“It sounds like something ridiculous,” Katherine said, without even looking at Sarah.
Sarah resisted the urge to roll her eyes. It was probably treason to roll your eyes at a princess in this day and age.
“Hyperbole is just exaggeration, something like saying I have done this 1000 times. When clearly you haven't,” Sarah explained.
The Princess simply nodded before she was distracted yet again by the window at the bottom of the room. This was excruciating.
“What about Epanalepsis?” Max asked.
“Yes!” Sarah said. “Repeating the same word at the beginning and end of a sentence!”
“I must admit, I just enjoy the sound of the word itself!” Max laughed.
“Me too, it sounds pretty impressive, doesn't it?”
The rest of the lesson played out pretty much the same way. By the end of it, Sarah had given up trying to include the Princess and simply discussed the concept of rhetoric in great detail with Max. At least he had an interest in the topic and what she had to say, although she had to admit he appeared to already be quite well educated in the matter. In fact, he might have actually known more than Sarah, which was embarrassing considering she was supposed to be tutoring him.
She found the whole experience very enjoyable thanks to Max. If they’d both had the same attitude as Katherine, she would have given up after half an hour.
Instead, what must have been three hours passed as swiftly as ten minutes when Sarah called the session to an end. Her stomach was rumbling, and the gong had sounded for the royal family's lunch.
“Are we supposed to continue the lessons after lunch?” Sarah asked.
“No,” said the Princess hurriedly.
“We could…” said Max. Sarah looked confusedly between the two of them.
“We don't have to continue them in the afternoon, although if you think there is a benefit to it I will be happy to attend,” Max explained.
“I have an appointment to take a walk with your mother,” Katherine said to Max. “So I won’t to be able to attend any afternoon tutoring.”
“That's no problem,” Sarah said. “I’m sure I can find something to amuse myself.”
Back in the noisy, crowded kitchen, dense black bread with hunks of cheese was being served for lunch. Compared to the gruel she'd had this morning it tasted like heaven and Sarah devoured her portion.
She wondered what the Prince and Princess were currently eating. She imagined they would be eating something much better than bread and cheese; although she was thoroughly enjoying her own modest meal.
The bread and cheese were served with goblets of ale, which nobody refused, and Sarah felt a little shy asking for water. Luckily it didn't faze the kitchen hand who simply tipped back the ale himself and bought her a different goblet filled to the brim with water.
She brought the goblet of water cautiously to her lips, unsure about hygiene and how clean the water would be. Perhaps it was best to put those kinds of worries out of her head, she thought. It wasn't like she could implement a sewage system in Prague to meet her modern standards. She’d simply have to get used to it.
She took a deep breath and sipped at the cool liquid. To her surprise, the water was wonderfully clear and refreshing. In fact, it tasted better than any water she’d had before. She wasn't sure if it was because the water hadn't been treated with all kinds of chemicals, or if she was just incredibly thirsty.
She drank several goblets of water with her meal, and by the time she left the dining room she was absolutely bursting to use the bathroom. She raced back to her room to relieve herself on the chamber pot. In a full gown, this was more difficult than when she’d used it in the morning. She gathered up her billowing skirts, her arms overflowing with fabric. Cradling the bulk of the fabric now in one arm, she made a sweeping gesture behind her to ensure there were no stray swathes. Satisfied she was clear, she squatted over the pot and relieved herself. That was harder than the time I had false nails and pantyhose on for a wedding, she thought. What an exhausting task visiting the bathroom was in this time!
The pot had already been emptied that morning but now it almost reached halfway to the brim. Sarah looked at it awkwardly. She didn't want it overflowing, what if she needed to use the bathroom again? What if she needed to do a number 2? That could be an even more unpleasant experience.
Perhaps she should get rid of it now. They just tipped the things out of the window, didn't they? She couldn't imagine where else the maid that cleaned her room would put it. She glanced out the window and didn’t see anybody. So she shrugged to herself and bent down to lift the pot.
The chamber pot weighed more than she expected, and even though she was hardly a weakling, she struggled a little to get it to the windowsill. Once there she rested it gently on the stone ledge, wary of backsplash.
Gosh, she really missed modern day plumbing. Catching her breath again, she grasped the chamber pot firmly and heaved the contents confidently out of the window. Seconds later, a piercing shriek from below startled her, and Sarah looked out of the window to see guards approaching a woman. She appeared to be probably around 40, wearing an ill-fitting brown dress, with auburn hair pulled back into a coiled braid. The woman was drenched and trying to wipe the moisture away with her cloak.
Oh no! Sarah thought. I’ve just tipped my chamber pot out onto that poor woman! Guilt and panic gripped her, but she couldn't undo it now. She had checked out the window before she emptied it and nobody had been there. How fast had the woman been walking, anyway?
The guard stopped to speak to the woman, and she saw the guard with the jagged scar that had gripped her the previous day in the castle. Cedric, Agata had called him. The woman tried to explain something, her hands waving wildly as she spoke.
Cedric wasn’t listening. He shook his head, said something to the other guard, and they physically forced her off the castle grounds, her feet dragging against the floor. Sarah heard her shrieking as they carried her away and caught the words, “Tutor, I am the Prince’s tutor.”
The guilt grew into nausea. What could she do? The poor woman did not deserve to be carted off the premises. She was the real tutor that they had been expecting. But then again, what would Sarah do? That woman belonged in this world and probably had a family, friends, or some idea of how to exist and survive here.
Sarah had none of those things. She didn't even know how she had ended up here. Yet, surely whatever higher power had decided that this was where she should be wouldn't want her out on the street with nowhere to go? If they found out that she'd been lying she could even find herself up against a treason charge. Which usually resulted in death. That thought alleviated her guilt a little, but not much. She prayed the woman would be safe.
Sarah thought about the kind, intelligent Prince Max. She couldn't imagine him sentencing somebody to death. He seemed much too kind and scholarly for that kind of behavior. Perhaps the Princess could — her measured indifference to everything going on around her was infuriating.
Sarah supposed being a princess gave her a sense of pure entitlement that drove that kind of behavior, but she still found it plain rude. Royalty or not, Sarah was here to do a job. It was unimaginably discourteous to not even listen to the lessons she was trying to deliver.
Sarah decided a meditation session would help balance her again and maybe shed some of these conflicting feelings about being here and having to tell so many lies.
She missed her friends and her parents and being able to be completely honest with somebody, anybody. Initially she'd been more excited than scared at the idea of her medieval time traveling. But now her reality weighed heavily on her, like a weight on her chest squeezing all of the air from her body.
She was doomed to keep telling lies until she
found a way home, she didn't have access to any of the modern conveniences that she was used to, and the scariest thing of all was that the Prince and Princess wouldn't need tutoring forever. What would happen to her then? Where would she go? How was she actually going to get home once this became less of an adventure and more of a nightmare?
Overcome with anxiety, homesickness, and all manner of raging emotions, Sarah flopped onto her bed, her head pressed against the hard, lumpy mattress, and cried until she fell asleep.
Chapter 15
Max ate his lunch with a fierce concentration, eager to finish work on the Onager. The omelet was delicious, firm but not dry, with generous amounts of parsley. When his plate was cleared, his mind turned to the morning’s lesson with Sarah.
He’d been a little torn at the idea of reprising the lesson after lunch. Part of him would have welcomed a lively debate on the merits of a Socratic approach, but time was not currently on his side.
“You seem in good spirits today,” his mother said with a smile. “How have your lessons gone?”
“Very well, actually,” Max beamed. “The new tutor is very knowledgeable.”
“I’m pleased you are finding the benefit in the lessons,” his father chimed in.
“I very much am, Father. I can see the value of having a tutor now.” He lifted his heavy pewter goblet and took a sip of cool, refreshing water.
“I must meet this tutor that can teach my know-it-all son something,” his father said, raising his own goblet to his lips.
Max put his goblet down quickly, sending water sloshing over the rim and onto his empty plate. “I’m not a know-it-all, it’s just that other tutors I’ve had simply read books aloud to me and asked questions later. I can read for myself. Having somebody else droning on and on at me is much less interesting than reading it for myself.”
“And this tutor is different?” his mother asked.