by Karen Kay
“Very easily. But come, there is not a moment to lose. Now that your engagement has been announced, all eyes will be turned to you, watching anxiously.”
“But—”
“Come, dear, Father Junipero assures me that a quick marriage in such circumstances is for the best. And, alas, I fear that morning will be here all too quickly.”
“But Papa—”
“I know that this is not what you three had envisioned, but you both—nay, the three of you—are expected to do your duty.”
“Yes, Papa, but—”
“My dearest daughter.” The grand duke paced slowly toward her bed, as though uncertain of himself. Clearing his throat, he continued, “You must know that our two countries, ours and Prince Alathom’s, are engaged upon hard times. The marriage between the two of you will give our people the stability they are seeking, while strengthening the defenses of both countries. Let me assure you that all look to you to do your duty.”
Instead of answering, Sierra stared down at the covers she held so tightly to her chest, though eventually, she said, “Yes, Papa, but—”
“Come, now, Sierra. I know that you and the prince are good friends. And it will all turn out well in the end, I suspect. You are too young yet to realize that in time, your friendship with the prince will blossom into a love, true and full.”
The grand duke paused, while Sierra remained silent. And truth be known, she couldn’t have spoken at that moment, had her father required it of her, so large was the knot in her throat. Luckily, the grand duke seemed disinclined to pay heed to her silence, and he went on to say, “High Wolf will grasp the situation for what it is, as well. He has been educated by the prince himself, and by your own tutor, and I’m certain he understands our customs, our duties, yours. Yes, Sierra, I have every faith that he will come to see that his suit for your hand could not have been looked on with favor. Though it be true that His Serene Highness, Prince Eric—Alathom’s father—has adopted the boy in order to give him title, you must still ask yourself, as I did, if an American Indian could ever be in line to inherit the crown, if such a match could give security to our people.”
His Royal Highness, Grand Duke Colheart, bestowed his daughter with a sympathetic, tolerant look, while he took his seat beside her on her bed. “Besides,” he continued, “there are legalities to weigh in such an instance as this.”
“Perhaps,” said Sierra at last. “But Papa, you could have told me about what you planned beforehand. As it was, learning about the engagement between myself and Prince Alathom—and in front of all our guests—was so much of a shock, I don’t know how I managed to get through the rest of the evening.”
The grand duke coughed, appearing, for a moment, as though he might be struggling with a call to conscience. However, when Sierra made no overture to say more on the subject, he again spoke. “And you would have argued with me. No.” He held up his hand when Sierra would have interrupted. “You know you would have done so. So would Prince Alathom, I imagine. But understand, the three of you were allowed a free hand only because your outings with the prince and High Wolf were looked upon as necessary. We believed, both his parents, as well as your mother and myself, that you and the prince were becoming closer because of this allowed freedom. Never did we dream that you and that Indian…” His Royal Highness paused, running a finger under the stiff collar of the uniform he still wore, as though his next words were either to be swallowed or, perhaps, to be momentous. He continued, “Understand, Sierra, High Wolf was looked upon as the prince’s companion during those outings, a common servant…and no more.”
A common servant? High Wolf? Surely not. She said, “But he was adopted by Alathom’s father. He is part of their family. Surely that is not the position of a servant.”
The grand duke shook his head. “The adoption makes no difference in the end, my dear. High Wolf is still an Indian. He might be more than a servant to you; a friend, perhaps, but a prince…never…”
Sierra’s chin took an obstinate, upward turn. She said, “I see little difference between High Wolf and the prince…even myself, except in skin color perhaps, and High Wolf’s is only a shade darker than my own.”
“Descent, my dear. Descent.” The grand duke squared his shoulders before going on to say, “Oh, what rebellious times we live in, for the world is changing rapidly around us. Though you have studied well Greek, English, even the newly emerging American cultures, I fear your early education has failed to teach you the true value of royal ancestry. And it is that ancestry, after all, that is important.”
“I disagree, Papa.”
The grand duke merely shook his head.
“I fail to understand,” said Sierra, continuing, “why, if you truly believe this…this theory of descent—then, why, all this time, did no one tell me what you planned this evening? Why was I allowed to believe that…” She paused, looking down at the bedcovers as though they were of the utmost interest. “I thought you truly liked High Wolf.”
“We did. We do. How could anyone not share some affinity with a young man so amicable? So eager to please? But as a son-in-law?” The grand duke shuddered.
But Sierra sighed. “And so, if I understand you correctly, what you are really saying is that, although he is fine in every way, but one—that of royal blood—he is not good enough for me?”
“That is exactly what I am saying.”
“Does our lineage really create so much difference?” Sierra spoke almost to herself. “I fail to understand you, Papa, for I refuse to believe that the color of one’s skin, one’s heritage, one’s chance of birth, makes for a good or a great man. Only a person’s heart, his kindness and his sympathy for the afflictions of others make a man great.”
The grand duke harrumphed several times before saying, “Yes, yes, so it is said these days, and yet a monarch must at all times be ready to use force in order to protect his people.”
“I fail to—”
The grand duke held up his hand. “Perhaps you are right, my dear, perhaps you are right. Times are changing, and a wise monarch must change with them. But you misunderstand, I think. Prince Alathom is all kindness and goodness.”
“Yes, he is. But I’m not in love with him.”
“I understand, my dear, but whatever your feelings, your inclinations; whatever are mine, mean nothing.”
“This is incredible. Surely I must have a say in whom I am to marry. I must. Otherwise…Papa, this contradicts all I have been taught…my studies of the Enlightened Age in Greece—”
Her father flushed. Even in the candlelight, she could see it was so. And he said, “You were, in the past, given too high a regard for that country and too free a rein. I ask you, where do these ideals fit into our lives?”
“Very easily, I think.”
Her father shook his head sadly. “Ideals are for dreamers, and that is all. They are not for the practical world we live in, and they are certainly not for a sovereign. You must know—Father Junipero assures me that he is doing his best to instill this principle in you—that a princess is not free to bestow her favor wherever she may wish.”
“Yes, Papa, but marrying High Wolf would do so much to enhance our country. He is a fine man, and I’m certain he would bestow upon the role of prince consort great honor.”
The grand duke did not answer. Instead, a long, stretched-out silence filled the atmosphere, until at last, the grand duke inhaled deeply. “Your mother and I have spoken on this; we have counselled with others in high places on this. After much discussion, know that we have all come to the same decision. And that is, an Indian must not sit close to or on the throne.”
“But—”
The grand duke held up his hand. “I will hear no more talk on this. I am beginning to understand the problems that Father Junipero has related to me regarding your earlier education, for you speak your mind quite plainly.”
“Yes, Papa, but—”
“No more, Sierra, no more.”
Sierra
lowered her lashes, saying again, “Yes, Papa.”
“That’s a good girl. Now, I shall call for Maria once again, and she will help you dress. I know the hour is late, but Father Junipero wishes to speak to you. He, not Prince Eric’s priest, will be performing the marriage ceremony in the morning. In truth, I fear that you may have little sleep tonight, for the hour of your wedding is set at nine o’clock.”
“But Papa, please—”
“Sierra, you must learn to speak only when you are spoken to. You try a man’s very patience.” Thus said, the grand duke arose, his countenance stern, ungiving. Still, before he left, he glanced down at his young offspring, gazing at her as though he might have a bit of sympathy for her, though he remained quiet. In due course, however, he said, “Marriages, even for a commoner, are rarely a matter of the heart, my daughter. It is a hard lesson to learn at such a young age, but I assure you that your infatuation with the Indian will diminish with time. In a year or so, you will probably not even remember his name.”
Sierra gulped, knowing that what her father said would never be so. But for the time being, she restrained herself on the subject. Besides, to argue with her father further might arouse his suspicion as to her own plans. Odd, her father’s lecture tonight had only strengthened her resolve.
“And now it is time,” said the grand duke.
“Time, Papa?”
“Come, my dear, there are wedding arrangements to be made, and Father Junipero wishes to have a few words with you. Shall I ring for Maria to help you dress?”
“No, no,” Sierra spoke quickly, fully aware that Maria would no longer be in the castle. At least she hoped not, for Maria’s errand would have taken her outside the castle walls. “I…I wish to be alone. If there is to be little sleep this night, please grant me a few moments to myself before I must meet with Father Junipero…”
“Ah, yes. Of course, my dear. Of course. Take as long as you wish, but do not make it overly long. Your duty awaits you.”
Sierra nodded. “Yes, I know…and thank you, Papa.”
Briefly, the grand duke leaned over to press a kiss upon the top of Sierra’s head. “I know this has been a shock for you—all three of you—but, trust me, it will pass. Yes, my dear, it will pass.”
Sierra raised her lashes, sending her father a quick, glance, attempting at the same time to smile at him. But she feared that, with her heart momentarily crushed, all she accomplished was a crude sort of smirk.
Her father must have sensed her discomfort, however, for he went on to say, “You will see. It will all be for the best. Now, I will set someone outside your door to bring you to Father Junipero as soon as you are ready. Do not worry. It will all turn out right.” And straightening up, the Grand Duke Colheart, Sierra’s father, took his leave.
Chapter 2
He waited at their sacred place
He stayed ’til way past noon.
But when she reached that meeting place,
’Twas nothing there, save the moon.
Anonymous
“Maria, at last you have returned. Did you succeed in carrying the note to High Wolf?”
“Yes, Your Highness, I believe so. But it had to be accomplished with the aid of the priest.”
“Father Junipero?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Sierra frowned. “How did Father Junipero come to be involved in this?”
For a moment Maria looked discomfited. At last, however, she said, “The entrance to and from the castle is blocked, even for myself. I could not leave, and not wishing to bring notice to myself, I tried to use a servants’ entrance in order to sneak away from the castle’s inner sanctum. But Father Junipero caught me and asked me what I was doing, and I could not bring myself to lie to him.”
“Of course not. What did he say?”
“When I told him that I was on an errand for you, he wished to know what it was. When I related a little of it, that I needed to bring a note to a friend, Father Junipero listened carefully and said very little. In truth, Your Highness, at first the father frightened me, he looked so stern.”
Sierra nodded.
“But then I pleaded with him to help me, and taking pity on me, he said that he would.”
“That is good,” said Sierra. “And how did he help you, Maria?”
“He wished to read the note I carried.”
“And did you show it to him?”
“Yes, Your Highness. I’m sorry, but I had no choice in the matter.”
Sierra sighed. “Of course you did not.” She frowned. “And so now Father Junipero knows of our plans.”
“Yes, Your Highness. Please accept my apology.”
“Do not worry over it, Maria. I am certain that Father Junipero can be trusted.”
“I hope so.”
“And so, am I to understand that you both went into the forest together?”
“Yes, though once there, Father Junipero dismissed me.”
“He dismissed you?”
“Yes, Princess.”
Sierra frowned. “I think I begin to understand why you said you believed High Wolf received word of the change.”
“Yes.”
Sierra arose from the chair where she had been reclining, taking the necessary few steps to bring her face to face with her maid-in-waiting. But seeing the look of concern come over Maria’s countenance, Sierra’s anxiety quieted.
Taking Maria’s hand in her own, she said, “Do not worry. You did the only thing you could do. I am certain of it. Everything will be fine. Father Junipero has always been friendly toward myself and High Wolf. And I believe that he is not one to carry tales.”
“Yes, Your Highness. I, too, believe in his honesty, although…”
“Although what?”
“He often frightens me, I must say.”
“Yes, yes, I can understand why. He sometimes does that to me.” She paused. “But once he learned of your purpose, he was more amicable?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“There, you see?” As she stood up straight, Sierra tried to lighten the situation with a smile. “I begin to believe that the time has come for me to quit this castle. But,” she said, turning away, “if you had difficulty leaving, I am certain that it will be quite impossible for me.”
Maria bobbed her head in agreement. “There are two sentinels standing watch outside your room, Your Highness.”
Sierra’s frown deepened. “I had no idea that Papa would go to such extremes,” she said. “I am afraid, Maria, that I have not done well in foreseeing this. None of us did. Although perhaps this is why Prince Alathom is attempting to change our plans.”
“Yes. It might likely be so.”
“But tell me, Maria, with the priest’s help, were you able to come and go without great search?”
“Yes. No one paid me notice.” Maria’s eyes became suddenly bright. “Perhaps, Princess, we might…I mean you could…” She cleared her throat. “Might we not trade places?”
Sadly, Sierra smiled. “Maria, what a good friend you are to me. I praise the day my father made arrangements to bring you here to be my lady’s maid.”
“I am, too, Princess,” said Maria. “With both my parents killed, and with me left in the care of an indifferent uncle, my plight looked hopeless.”
“Yes,” said Sierra. “I remember. On my honor, what your uncle did was terribly unjust, seizing hold of your father’s title and all of the family’s wealth, leaving nothing to you. What did he expect you to do? You, an aristocrat, a lady of gentle birth? I am glad, however, that things turned out as they did, and that you thought to seek employment. Otherwise, I would have been denied your company.”
“I am glad also.” Maria grinned. “And so, shall we trade places?”
Sierra drew in a deep breath. “Oh, no, Maria. We must not.”
“But why not?”
“Ask yourself,” said Sierra, “what would be your fate if you were discovered helping me escape?”
“Humph! Do you think I care about that? It is my duty to help you.”
“Assist, yes. I need that. But duty? How tired I am of that word, I must say.”
Maria remained silent.
“No, Maria, though I shall always remember your loyalty to me, I cannot do it.”
“But—”
Turning away, Sierra paced back and forth to the window. At length, she came back to stand before her maid-in-waiting, and taking Maria’s hands into her own, she smiled before saying, “You have been the best lady’s maid a princess could ever desire. In truth, Maria, I believe you are my only friend.”
“Thank you, Your Highness,” said Maria, a gentle blush stealing across her cheeks. “You pay me a great compliment.”
“’Tis not a compliment, merely the truth.”
At that moment, a knock sounded at the door, causing both young women to gasp and to cling to one another.
“Go see to it, Maria,” whispered the princess. “But beg them not to enter.”
“Yes, Princess,” said Maria, and sending her mistress a fond smile, she turned toward the door.
Sierra could hear the murmurings, and once again it goaded her to realize that she would have to wait.
At last, however, Maria shut the door, and spinning around, paced back toward her mistress. She said, “Father Junipero wishes to see you, Your Highness.”
Again Sierra frowned, although the exact reason for her worry escaped her. She said, “Do you suppose that Father Junipero might help me?”
Maria shrugged. “’Tis worth trying.”
“That it is, Maria. That it is.”
The Royal Chapel
“Ah, Princess Sierra, my child,” said Father Junipero. “Come.”
The princess trod quickly forward, looking as though she might likely run away if he, her mentor and confessor, were to give her any reason to do so. But fleeing was next to impossible. Though her Swiss guard—the soldier who had escorted her there—had faded back into the shadows, he would not leave. Not until the princess was safely married would anyone in the castle relax.
And so Father Junipero began, saying, “Feel no fear, my dear. I think that you are shocked because of the evening’s announcement concerning your future. But do not fret. I understand now that you had hoped for something else.”