by K. M. Shea
Please leave soon, please leave soon! If Hulderic wasn’t around, Rynn would be able to move more recklessly in revealing the sham!
“My men will return shortly,” the captain said. “But it was the queen’s dearest wish I remain in service to the princess.”
Rynn scowled. “What are you—”
“I have her orders in this letter, here.” Captain Hulderic passed a satchel of letters to the king.
“Very well. If the queen and princess desire this, it would be our pleasure to welcome you to Farthendale,” King Othmar declared as he took the satchel.
“Captain Hulderic,” Rynn managed to say before the rest of the words died in her throat. Blast! This must fall under the farce Davina described when she forbad me from speaking of it. As much as it pained Rynn to admit, Davina’s plan—though stupid—had been hatched with an uncommon amount of sense given the princess’s usual aspirations. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her put this much effort into anything besides ordering new gowns! Unless Lady Maela helped her with all these details…
Queen Morgaine curled an arm around Rynn’s shoulders and swept her up the staircase. “Come, I will show you to your quarters! I imagine you wish for some time to yourself to rest after your journey, but tonight we shall throw a banquet in honor of your arrival.”
“Thank you,” Rynn said. “It is very kind of you, but you don’t need to go through such trouble for me.” She glanced first at the queen and then back at the king and prince—who climbed up the stairs behind them—but no one seemed to notice the syllable stress.
“Nonsense,” the queen said. “You will be family, Davina!”
But I’m not Davina! Rynn tried to even whisper the words, but nothing could squeak out of her throat. Grimly she tried to push back the dirty feeling that clung to her as she lied openly to the Farthendale monarchs. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“Please, Davina, I said no formalities for our son’s fiancée! You must call me Morgaine.”
Rynn allowed herself to be pulled along, but she nursed rather rebellious thoughts. If I ever get my hands on Davina, I’ll throw her to the goats!
* * *
As Queen Morgaine had promised, that night the royal family held a banquet. Although Rynn had protested, a maid stuffed her in a beautiful ruby red gown—which fit a bit oddly given that she was taller than Davina.
Rynn stared at her reflection in the mirror and tried not to cry. Though she had been working as Princess Davina’s lady’s maid for a year, she still saw her family frequently. She hadn’t really worked many hours until her sister Eva, closest in age to her and also her best friend, had left the family home for the kingdom of Guthward. Her work as a lady’s maid seemed like a wonderful escape—with Eva gone she was left alone in her role of older sister—but now Rynn would have given anything to hear her sisters squabble and fight.
She tried to tug down the sleeves of her dress—which were supposed to end at the wrist but instead settled halfway up her forearm. (The skirt of the gown was also too short. Davina’s wardrobe had been designed to have flowing skirts so her feet would never be seen as she glided along. On Rynn they brushed the tops of her shoes.)
They’re going to think Astorian royalty dress strangely. Rynn frowned at her dress, and was prodded from her thoughts only when the maid interrupted her.
“Captain Hulderic has arrived to walk you to the celebration hall, Your Highness,” the maid said.
Rynn whirled around, her spine stiffening when she saw the maid standing by an open doorway which Captain Hulderic filled.
He bowed and smiled blandly. “You look splendid, Princess.”
Rynn ignored him and asked the maid. “Couldn’t someone else escort me?”
The maid giggled. “Worry not, Princess. Prince Geraint will meet you in the hall.”
Rynn felt a muscle twitch in her eyebrows. “Of course. But someone else, perhaps…?”
“Your fear is unnecessary, Princess,” Hulderic said with a polished but false smile. “I will deliver you safely.”
Rynn reluctantly stepped into the hallway, glancing over her shoulder when the maid shut the door to her assigned rooms.
“You’re doing better than I expected.” Hulderic started down the hallway, leaving Rynn to trail after him. “I thought your lack of class would stick out like a sore thumb, but you did well enough greeting the king and queen.”
“You don’t have to be royalty to have good manners—or morals,” Rynn said emphatically.
Hulderic chuckled. “Of course, Princess. I’m sure you’ll put those good manners on display tonight, and play your role. Because if you don’t…”
Rynn narrowed her eyes. “What? You’ll hold a sword to my neck in front of the whole room?”
She blinked, and in a moment Hulderic had his hand on her throat and pinned her to the stone wall. “I always thought you would be the most difficult part about Davina’s plan,” he said pleasantly, even as his fingers dug into her flesh. “No matter. I understand from Davina’s orders that you will indeed be forced to say you are her. However, if you don’t play your role completely and act as a proper princess, there’s no telling what will befall you. Accidents happen, you know. It would be terrible if your life were to end at such a young age.”
Rynn felt her blood freeze. She tried to swallow, but Hulderic’s grip on her throat made it difficult. I’m right. There has to be more to this than Davina’s escape plan. Why else would he go through such lengths? Her knees trembled as the depth of Hulderic’s threat sank in, and she realized she was in a deadly situation that she only knew the half of. I need to move carefully. It looks like I really will have to be convincing.
Hulderic flexed his fingers, applying more pressure on Rynn’s throat. “Do you understand?”
Rynn nodded.
Hulderic released her. “Excellent. Come, Princess. Your fiancé awaits.” Captain Hulderic stalked away, moving down the hallway with the stride of a hungry wolf.
Rynn shivered, then reluctantly followed him. She rubbed her throat and wanted to kick something in her anger and fear. With each minute that passed, the situation seemed to grow increasingly grimmer. Why did I ever leave home?
When they reached the hall, Hulderic stepped to the side and bowed with every appearance of respect. “Princess,” he murmured.
Rynn ignored him and stepped into the hall—which was a long, rectangular shaped room lit by glimmering chandeliers and a horse sized fireplace. One side of the room was made almost entirely of glass, giving a view of Cadburey as the sun settled, casting dusty colors and purple shadows across the city.
“Davina—you look lovely!” Prince Geraint smiled as he approached her with the man he had stood by when they first met.
“Thank you.” Rynn smiled awkwardly and glanced at Geraint’s companion.
Geraint followed her gaze, then smiled. “Ah! Please allow me to introduce you to my dearest friend, Conrad.”
His companion bowed and murmured, “Princess.” Conrad was taller than the prince by a few inches, and his hair was a darker, ashy shade of brown.
“He is my mother’s nephew—my cousin,” Geraint added.
Rynn glanced between the two men, taking in the faint family resemblance in their features. “I see. It is an honor to meet you, Conrad.”
“The pleasure is mine.”
“Conrad works in the government with me,” Geraint said.
“Oh? What position do you fill?” Rynn asked.
“All sorts of…roles,” Geraint said evasively.
“I hope your journey through Farthendale was pleasant,” Conrad asked.
“It mostly was, yes. Though I am very glad to have finally reached Cadburey,” Rynn said truthfully. In spite of Hulderic’s threat, I’m not giving up! And my chances of finding help are better here given that my oath forbids me to flee.
“You look different,” Conrad said bluntly.
Rynn blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“What a j
ester.” Geraint elbowed his cousin and shook his head. “What he meant to say is you don’t resemble the portrait your mother sent last year.”
“Indeed,” Conrad said.
“I agree,” Rynn said, mentally scrambling to use the moment to her advantage. “If you compare me to the painting, it’s almost as if I’m a different person, isn’t it?”
Unfortunately, Prince Geraint was too gallant to take the hint. “I don’t know anyone who resembles their portrait.” He smiled broadly at her. “Tomorrow I shall take you to the royal gallery so you can see my portrait—I look like a dolt.”
Rynn let her shoulders drop the smallest bit. “How kind of you to offer.”
“What are your thoughts of Farthendale thus far?” Conrad asked.
“Pleasant, I hope!” Geraint added.
“The mountains and forests are very beautiful,” Rynn said. “I lived in Torina, which is surrounded by plains. And what woods we do have are nothing like the trees you have here.”
Geraint nodded, though Conrad tilted his head slightly and studied Rynn with a thoughtful gaze.
“We’re very proud of our forests in Farthendale,” Geraint said. “We have some of the oldest—and biggest—woods!”
Rynn tried to discreetly tug on her too-short-sleeve again. “I can’t wait to familiarize myself with them.”
Conrad cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows at his cousin.
“Right.” Geraint stuck his arm out, inviting Rynn to slip her arm under his. “We wanted to ask you about the horse you rode into Cadburey. He’s the famed gift horse from the fairies who can talk, yes?”
Rynn reluctantly took his arm. “Falada, yes.”
“He is rather beautiful,” Conrad said, taking up the space on Rynn’s other side.
“Beautiful? He’s gorgeous!” Geraint and Conrad led Rynn around the perimeter of the room, smiling (Geraint) and nodding (Conrad) at the lords and ladies who bowed/curtsied. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a horse that handsome in Farthendale.”
“I think it might be his origins,” Rynn said. “We have other white horses in Astoria’s stables colored similarly, but none of them glitter as he does. His temperament, however, does not match his appearance. I fear if you were expecting Falada to be a sweet-tempered steed, you will be gravely disappointed.”
“He already took a chunk out of the stable holster,” Conrad said. “And swore at the stable boys.”
“Ahhh yes, that is a fairly accurate sampling of his personality.” Rynn winced in sympathy, having been bitten by the horse before. “I do hope the holster isn’t in too much pain?”
“No, not at all. He’s dealt with worse before…I think,” Geraint said.
Rynn tried to smile pleasantly, but when she glanced across the room she caught sight of a familiar woman: a noble lady with hair as white as milk, and deep smile lines. She was also dressed in the long sleeved-long skirted gowns of Astoria. Lady Maela!
Rynn nibbled on the edge of her lip as she watched the Astorian noblewoman—who had served as the ambassador to Farthendale for years—laugh and chatter with the other guests. She had seen the older lady—who had briefly returned to Astoria to see that the preparations for Princess Davina’s upcoming nuptials continued smoothly—while attending to the princess. Apparently, things were not as smooth as I had thought. How could she help Davina do this? Perhaps she didn’t think she would go through with it? If that is the case, might she help me?
She opened her mouth to ask Prince Geraint if they could detour over to the Astorian noblewoman, when Lady Maela turned around and set her eyes upon Rynn. “My dear Princess Davina!” Lady Maela exclaimed, crumbling Rynn’s hopes.
She swept across the room and embraced Rynn, kissing her on either cheek. “How was your journey? You befell no troubles, I hope?”
“Not exactly…” Rynn said.
Lady Maela arched an eyebrow and nodded—acknowledging the implication. “I imagine it must be a shock to leave your home and everything you’ve known to come to a new kingdom, but Farthendale is lovely! You will see.” Lady Maela patted Rynn’s hand consolingly, then turned to the prince and his cousin. “Good evening, Your Highness, Sir Conrad. How dashing you both look this evening!”
Prince Geraint beamed, but Conrad looked back and forth between Rynn and Lady Maela with a furrowed brow.
“Good evening, Lady Maela,” Prince Geraint said. “I am glad you could attend this banquet—I’m sure it does Davina some good to see a familiar face.”
“Not that familiar,” Rynn muttered under her breath. Though she had seen the lady often—for Lady Maela had privately chatted with Davina a number of times during her visits—as a lady’s maid she was never formally introduced.
“What was that, Davina?” Prince Geraint asked.
Before Rynn could respond, Lady Maela gave Rynn a sympathetic smile. “You must call upon me sometime this week. Though you were prepared for your life here, it is a rather marked difference between being told something and experiencing it. I should love to offer any advice and guidance I can.”
Yes! If I can get her alone I still might be able to convince her this is madness! “I would love that,” Rynn said with a little more enthusiasm than was socially acceptable. “How about tomorrow?”
Lady Maela laughed. “You sweet, silly child. I imagine tomorrow you will be rather busy further meeting with your fiancé and his family. But soon, you must visit.”
“I will,” Rynn promised with feeling.
“Good.” Lady Maela held the skirt of her dress with one hand and performed a slight curtsey. “Then I shan’t take up anymore of your time—this is your first meal in Farthendale after all. Take care, Your Highness, Your Highness, Sir Conrad!”
“Farewell, Lady Maela,” Prince Geraint said cheerfully.
The ambassador was off with a swish of her skirts before Rynn could add anything.
Rynn frowned slightly as she watched Lady Maela approach another guest. How did Davina convince Lady Maela to help her? She couldn’t have paid her off, though she’s a princess and could buy whatever she chose, her mother didn’t exactly let her slouch around with a pocketful of jewels…
“A very kind lady,” Prince Geraint proclaimed.
“Yes,” Rynn said. “I am very glad she is here.” She glanced up in time to see Prince Geraint and Conrad exchange glances over her head—no easy task given how tall she was.
“Shall we find our seats?” Conrad prodded after a moment.
“Oh, yes, of course!” Prince Geraint again offered his arm to Rynn. “This way.”
The trio fell into awkward silence when they reached the table Rynn assumed they were going to sit at. She curiously glanced from Prince Geraint—who still held her arm—to Conrad—who watched servants whisk past bearing many dishes and bowls.
They’re an interesting pair. Geraint is bright smiles and soft eyes, but though Conrad is less expressive he seems calmer as well.
“You and your soldiers were not the only Astorians to arrive in Cadburey today,” Conrad said.
Rynn blinked as his words sank in. What? Wait, WHAT?! Could Davina have decided to start her travels in Cadburey? If so, how had Conrad found out? “Oh?” she asked mildly.
Geraint released Rynn’s arm so he could pull back a chair for her. “Ahh yes, I had forgotten about her.”
HER?! A strangled noise squeaked loose from Rynn’s throat as she sat down in her chair.
“An Astorian commoner girl was brought in by a wandering minstrel,” Geraint continued. “It was remarkable because we so rarely receive travelers—not including merchants or craftsmen—from Astoria, so she was initially brought to the palace as guards assumed she was part of your retinue. She told us she was not, however, and the situation was straightened out.”
Rynn had to bite her tongue to keep from shouting over the prince as he relayed the story. “What happened to her?”
Geraint rubbed his chin. “I’m not sure…Conrad, do you remember?” He p
lopped down in the chair next to Rynn.
Conrad leaned against his chair—which was on Geraint’s other side. “She was given work as a goose girl.”
Yes! Something has finally worked in my favor! This girl has to be Davina—she must! Rynn licked her lips. “Then she’s still here in Cadburey?”
Geraint nodded.
“She likely will be for a while.” Conrad looked out at the swirling masses as the guests began to take their seats. “She was robbed on the road—which is why the minstrel brought her in.”
Yep. She didn’t last for even a day. Serves her right! When I find her, I’m going to give her a piece of my mind! Rynn couldn’t keep the smile off her lips as she said happily, “How frightening that must have been for her.”
Conrad furrowed his brow at her, but Geraint leaned forward in his seat. “Yes, I imagine so, but she’s safe now.” He spared a glance and a warm smile at Rynn. “Don’t worry, we will take good care of your previous citizens on your behalf.”
Rynn smiled wanly, but Geraint didn’t notice—his attention was already back on the nobles.
“Oh—there’s Lunette and Arthur—my younger sister and brother.” He stood back up and again offered his arm. “Come, we should meet them before we sit down.”
Rynn stood, her thoughts still focused on Davina. I’ll have to steal away so I can talk to her alone—without hulking Hulderic smiling over my shoulder.
“Are you coming with us, Conrad?” Geraint asked his cousin.
Conrad shook his head. “No reason to. Hurry back—as soon as your mother arrives the food will be served.” His dark eyes shifted from Geraint to Rynn. He seemed to scrutinize her as his gaze lingered on her face.
Perhaps he would be the one most likely to catch on to my hints? Though it may not be necessary if I can talk Davina around…
“Of course,” Geraint said sunnily, interrupting Rynn’s plotting. “Come, Davina. You’re going to love Lunette and Arthur.”
* * *
It took two days before it was socially acceptable for Rynn to call upon Lady Maela. Two long days.
“Princess Davina!” Lady Maela exclaimed happily when her maid led Rynn into her chambers. “How delighted I am that you have called upon me.”