by Daris Howard
No one said anything for a short time as the queen sized him up. It was as if she was looking through him, and he was very uncomfortable. He sensed by her bemusement that she enjoyed his discomfort. Finally, she spoke.
"I want you to be her tutor, her escort, and her teacher." Then, as if as an afterthought, she added, "Oh, and her bodyguard."
Jacob felt the air go out of him, and the blood rushed so fast to his lungs that his head started to spin. He choked slightly. Nothing she could have said would have shocked him more. Nothing he could have done could have prepared him for the stunned feeling that came over him. It traumatized his whole system, and he reeled from it for a moment. When he finally regained his composure and spoke, his voice almost squeaked and sounded to him as if it weren't his own. "Your Majesty, a tutor? I'm a soldier."
The queen continued to smile the same maddening smile. "Yes, that is true, so while you are at it, teach her to defend herself. You never know when that might come in handy."
Jacob, desperately trying to retain any dignity of his job as Captain of the Guard, knew he had to attempt to to talk his way out of the assignment.
"Begging Your Majesty's pardon, but what can I teach a princess?"
"Everything. You can teach her things you learned at the university. I understand you love the music of the great composers, that you read the works of the great philosophers, that you are a great thinker and a talented young man. Train her in the arts. Teach her to dance. They did teach you to dance at the academy?"
Jacob nodded. "Yes, Your Majesty. We were trained in all of the social graces. But, surely, she has already been taught to dance."
The queen sighed heavily as she answered. "There have been many attempts, but she has scorned them all, as I'm sure you can well imagine."
Jacob could just see himself working with the surly princess. He could imagine her getting angry with him, striking at him, telling the queen how horrible he was. Even worse, he could envision the reaction of his men in the Royal Guard when they learned of his assignment.
As he thought about the others in the Royal Guard hearing of this, Jacob gained some determination to avoid this assignment if at all possible. He swallowed hard, took a deep breath, then spoke again. "But don't you feel it would be better to have a woman tutor the princess?"
The queen's expression remained almost unchanged, unless possibly more stern. "All of the tutors so far have been women, and they have failed miserably. I want her to have some influence from the opposite gender. You see, her father died when she was yet a young girl. My daughter will soon be queen, and I feel there are things she needs to learn - things that I can't teach her."
"But I don't know how to tutor," Jacob blurted out.
The queen wrinkled her brow. "Don't you teach your men?'
"Well, yes, how to fight and defend the palace and such things."
"I'm sure it couldn't be that much different with other subjects."
Jacob knew he was out of line questioning the queen's decision, but a desperation was settling on his heart, a desperation like he had never experienced before. It pushed him beyond the bounds of propriety. His emotions were overwhelming and at the surface as he did speak.
"But surely there are more qualified people to teach her than myself."
The queen lost any hint of a smile as she spoke sternly. "Captain Richins, describe your father to me."
Jacob felt a softness in his heart as he considered his father. He loved no one more than he loved his father. He spoke quietly as he answered. "He is a kind, honest man. Loyal to Your Majesty and the country, above all. Loved by all who know him."
The queen nodded. "Good. That is how I know him as well. Just teach her the things your father taught you."
"But, Your Majesty, I..."
The queen cut him off with sharpness. "That will be all, Captain Richins. You start this morning; the dawn is already breaking."
Jacob knew that the discussion was over. With one more glance at the queen, and another at Lord High Chamberlain, he bowed and turned to leave. His heart was heavy with trepidation. He had only gone a few steps when the queen spoke again. He turned back to her. Her voice was again soft and kind, yet still firm.
"Oh, and one more thing. You have my permission to use whatever training methods you feel necessary. You have my full trust. You may find her difficult, and she may threaten you and your position, but have no fear. Your assignment is not in her hands, but in mine alone."
Jacob again bowed and departed. As his footsteps on the marble floor faded away, all became quiet in the throne room. The stillness was thick about the queen and Lord High Chamberlain. Finally, the queen spoke again, still facing forward, and not even turning to look at him.
"You are very quiet, Matthew. Do you question my actions?"
Lord High Chamberlain stood nobly beside her, speaking carefully and deliberately. "I have never questioned Your Majesty's actions, though, I must say, I wonder at your course of reasoning."
She turned to look at him. "You are very diplomatic, Matthew."
Lord High Chamberlain didn't even smile, but his eyes sparkled mischievously at her comment. "Your Majesty has always made wise decisions. Women drive me crazy. I look at something logically; I analyze, then make a decision, and you just follow your heart and make a decision that defies all logic. The maddening part is that your decisions usually end up being the right ones."
The queen laughed. "I suppose that is what makes a woman." Suddenly, she became quiet and serious again as she continued. "But there is one place I have not always made the right decisions, and that is in raising my daughter."
"But is having a soldier tutor her the right thing?" Lord High Chamberlain asked.
She spoke slowly, as if she had pondered this for a long time, and still did. "You have always been wise in counseling me in political matters, Matthew, but this time, I am looking at what is best for Marie - not as her Queen, but as her mother."
Lord High Chamberlain turned away as he rolled his eyes and spoke somewhat under his breath. "She dances like a cow in a mud hole."
"What was that, Matthew?" the queen asked.
Lord High Chamberlain cleared his throat. "I was just saying that the young princess says she would rather be a man than a woman, and tends to feel that dancing is, how should I say, ridiculous."
"She can learn."
"She'd rather climb trees and fight than learn philosophy or listen to music."
The queen nodded. "That may be true, and I don't want to destroy her free spirit, just broaden it."
"What are you looking for this young man to do?" Lord High Chamberlain asked.
"To change her heart," the queen replied.
"In what way?"
The queen had a deep meditative, look about her as she answered. "To help her think of others besides herself. I will be honest, Matthew. I have raised a daughter who is self-centered and thinks of no one but Marie. That is not the kind of queen I want to leave to rule my people."
"But Your Majesty, what if she falls in love with him?"
The queen's eyes sparkled. "That is a very distinct possibility - one I have considered and would not condemn."
"Your Majesty, he is but a soldier. It is unheard of for a person of royal blood to marry a commoner, especially a soldier. And what of an alliance? We are not a strong country."
Instantly the queen's soft demeanor disappeared. It was obvious she had been pushed about this more than she liked. "Hang any alliance! This is my daughter that we are speaking of!" Just as suddenly, she softened again as she looked at Lord High Chamberlain, and knew very well he only meant the best. "Besides, Matthew, I feel the strength of my people is not in their arms, but in their hearts. I only want that for my daughter. And, Matthew, you have to admit that, with Marie, he's got his work cut out for him."
This brought a smile to Lord High Chamberlain's otherwise solemn face. "I'm not sure he has a prayer."
The queen chuckled lightly. "I was much
like Marie until I met my Alexander. His kind, gentle, yet firm spirit helped mold me during that summer my parents sent me away from the palace to live with his family. I know my mother hoped we would fall in love."
"As I remember," Lord High Chamberlain said, "Alexander wasn't all that excited about it."
"No, but he was just what I needed," the queen replied.
Lord High Chamberlain nodded. "It must have been for the best, because you have always ruled wisely by following your heart."
The queen thought about this. She had known Lord High Chamberlain long before that office had come to him. He was almost old enough to be her own father, and could have long since retired from the work of the court, yet he still had more vigor than a man half his age. He had been at the palace for as long as she could remember, probably even before she was born. There was no one she trusted more. His kindness, loyalty, and wry sense of humor were her source of strength now that she had neither her father nor her beloved Alexander.
The queen's smile turned into a full, mischievous grin. "You are kind anddiplomatic, Matthew. Sometimes a big liar, but kind and diplomatic. That is why I want you to be the one to tell Marie."
The look of sheer terror that broke Lord High Chamberlain from his solemness was priceless. "You want me to tell Princess Marie you are having a soldier tutor her?"
The queen's stifled grin gave way to a feigned innocence. "Can you think of anyone who would be better?"
"I can think of everyone as better," he growled. "I would rather face the guillotine."
The queen looked amused. "With Marie, it may be about the same. Good luck. And you best be going. She will be waking soon, and I want her to know early this morning."
Lord High Chamberlain let out a very audible sigh and rolled his eyes, but bowed slightly and went to fulfill the unpleasant task.
As the queen thought about her young daughter, and the difficult task ahead for Captain Richins, she said to herself, "And good luck to you, young Captain. My prayers are with you."
Chapter 3
Alexander the Enemy
As the queen prepared for the day ahead, she smiled as she thought about the young captain attempting to tutor Marie. It wasn't by chance she had chosen him. He reminded her so much of Alexander when he was a young man. In fact, she found herself having strange déjà vu experiences when Jacob was around. It was as if she was young again, and she was watching Alexander.
She thought back about that summer her parents had sent her to live with Alexander's family. She had been defiant and was talking back to her parents - a lot. Her father, the king, had always wanted a son, but instead, he got her. He had raised her much like a son: riding horses, learning much of war and defense, and even competing in predominantly men's sports.
And then, as she had grown older, and had ridiculed the pomp of the court, she found her mother and father frustrated and upset. They had clashed until her father had threatened to take a birch branch to her. Her mother had suggested that it might be best if she went away from them for a while. She had suggested that they send her up north to live with Duke Reginald and Lady Margaret at Denville Castle in Bernodia.
Her father had, at first, said he wasn't about to pawn his troubles off on someone else. That had angered Louise, to be referred to as 'his trouble', but her mother had prevailed again, suggesting that if their daughter was to be queen someday, it might be good for her to see the other parts of the kingdom. And Bernodia was the farthest northern province, right next to Esconodia, on their wildest frontier. If she was to rule, she ought to learn about the people.
The king finally, reluctantly, agreed, but Louise knew it was mostly because he was at a loss as to what else to do. As for her, she had agreed to go if only to show them that she could be independent of them. But as time grew closer for her departure, her apprehension increased.
She didn't know Duke Reginald and Lady Margaret very well. Lady Margaret had been one of her own mother's ladies-in-waiting until she had caught Duke Reginald's eye, and he had courted her. She knew that her mother was very fond of both of them, and she was quite sure that was the underlying reason that her mother had chosen them.
The day for the trip north quickly drew near. Her mother fussed over her, making sure she took half of the palace with her. Her father became sullen, and only spoke to her grudgingly. Louise knew that much of that was her own fault. She was filled with both uncertainty and downright fear of leaving home. That was coupled with the fact that she didn't dare show any feminine emotion after her big display of independence. It all made her heart tremble within her. The more she bottled up her fear of leaving home, the more it came out in obnoxiousness toward her parents.
As she approached her carriage to leave, there was little emotion expressed by either her or her father. Her mother had tears streaming down her face, but was careful in what she said. Her father softened slightly, but she brushed him off as he tried to kiss her goodbye. She stepped solemnly into the carriage, her ladies-in-waiting already there, and, with a command to the driver, they were off. They were followed by a contingent of the Royal Guard, two heavily-laden wagons carrying everything her mother insisted she needed, and two supply wagons for the trip.
The caravan hadn't traveled more than a half-mile down the road when her tough exterior melted away, and she started to sob right in front of her ladies-in-waiting. They tried to comfort her, but she told them to leave her alone. They rode most of the day in silence, broken only by her own sniffling and the quiet tearfulness of her attendants. She hadn't stopped to realize that they were being taken away from their own homes as well. She gave them a charge that her parents were not to hear that she was upset about leaving.
She kept to herself for most of the two and a half weeks they journeyed north. It normally would have taken only half as long, but they were slowed by the wagons. When they finally arrived at Denville Castle she was sullen, dirty, and temperamental. There to greet her with a warm smile were Duke Reginald and Lady Margaret. This annoyed her greatly, for nothing makes someone angrier than to see others happy when they, themselves, are not.
Alexander, their son, stood beside them. She hated him most of all. He was always gracious and calm, the very juxtaposition of herself. She remembered him only as a small boy, and was not inclined to think of him in any other way, even though he had grown tall. He stood there looking at her - dusty, tired, and homesick - and, as he kindly put his hand out to help her from the carriage, she caustically slapped it away, saying that she could take care of herself.
It didn't dim his smile at all as he, a young lord, kindly helped each one of her young ladies-in-waiting down from the carriage. As he smiled at each of them, Louise was quick to note their eager smile in return, and knew each was taken in by his charm. But not her, no sir. She wasn't about to fall for a pompous stiff like Alexander, especially when she knew how much her own mother liked him.
She saw Duke Reginald and Lady Margaret glance at each other as she had brushed Alexander off, but they continued their stiff, fake smiles. She knew what they must truly be thinking. She knew her parents must have told them all about her. If they thought they could change her, they had another thing coming.
Duke Reginald and Lady Margaret excused themselves and left Alexander in charge of arranging to get everyone settled. That really angered Louise. He was only a year older than herself, but his parents treated him like an adult. Her parents wouldn't put her in charge of anything. Alexander first assigned some servants to help the men of the Royal Guard and the drivers take care of the horses, while he directed other servants to help carry the luggage.
As Alexander reached for some of Louise's luggage, she could stand it no longer. She reached out to jerk it from him. "I don't need help from any stuffed shirt, know-it-all, wimpy boy."
He held tight and, as she jerked at the handbag, she was surprised to see how strong he was. For an instant the thought crossed her mind that she might be wrong about how soft he was. Then her anger
overcame her when he did not relinquish it to her at her command. She took a deep breath and jerked with all her might. He waited for her jerk and let go at that same moment, sending her flat on her back into the dirt with the handbag on top of her.
The corners of Alexander mouth turned up slightly, as she wrestled the heavy bag off of herself. "As you wish, Your Highness." He offered her his hand, but she whacked it away.
He then turned and picked up a bag belonging to Lady Elizabeth, one of her ladies-in-waiting, and, offering Elizabeth his arm, he led her up to the guest room. Louise was so upset she couldn't see straight, and she found herself tripping up the stairs after them, followed by her other lady-in-waiting, Marina. She found herself panting, and she felt like her arms would fall off by the time they reached their room, though Alexander acted like it was nothing to carry Elizabeth's bag.
She comforted herself by thinking that Elizabeth's bag was surely lighter, and she was still stronger than this soft, big-headed braggart. After they set the bags down, she told him the he could see to it that the rest of their personal items were brought in. He bowed slightly and smiled that smile she had always wanted to slap right off of his face all of those years. "As you wish, Your Highness."
Elizabeth and Marina volunteered to help, and Alexander offered each of them an arm. She was sure he did it just to annoy her, and she despised him all the more for it. Nevertheless, Elizabeth and Marina ate it up, and, giggling, each took his arm as they headed back down the stairs.
She was glad to be rid of them and have a moment alone. She looked around the room. Her eyes first fell on Elizabeth's bag, and she went over and hefted it. She reassured herself that she was right that it was lighter. Deep down in her heart she knew it wasn't, but she still told herself it was. She continued to assess the room. It was very comfortable, though not as large as hers at home.
It had a nicely-furnished sitting room, with a bedroom off either side. The one to the right was hers. She stepped in to find a large bed and plenty of furnishings. She sat on the bed. It was soft, and the quilt, bearing the family crest, was softer. She knew Duke Reginald and her father were something like fifth cousins. Hence, the same family crest.