by Aya Ling
Alfred, hearing that it was Marcella that Elaine wished to seek, did not voice objection. Owen hadn't given up, however.
"Will you please give me a token to wear at the tournament tomorrow? Of course, I am certain of getting my shield, but a gift from you will enable me to endure the battle in better spirits."
Elaine didn't feel like giving him anything, but he gazed at her so beseechingly, he probably wouldn't leave her alone until she acceded his request.
"Very well." Elaine plunged a hand into her dress pocket, fully intending to reach for a ribbon or handkerchief... and pulled out her screwdriver.
Owen gawked. So did Alfred.
"Ahem." Elaine tried to keep a straight face. "Pardon me, Lord Greenwood, but I'm afraid that I haven't anything–save for ripping the bows off my dress. Which I'd prefer not to. Lance had spent a lot of time sewing them on."
Owen finally found his voice. "Why are you carrying that...that thing?"
"Um..." If the truth would deter his advances, why not tell him? "Because I am trying to design a flying machine for this year's Great Exhibition of Science and Technology in Linderall. It has always been my dream to have my invention displayed at the Exhibition, you see."
Seeing that both of them were reduced to non-verbal amazement, Elaine curtsied and left–or more like, escaped.
But when she approached the corner where Marcella and Andre conversed, the latter was no longer there. Instead, a well-dressed young man with straw-blond hair and deep blue eyes was standing beside Marcella. They were talking rapidly in Tintagelese, their expressions solemn and serious. Elaine halted. Although her Tintagelese was much improved, she still felt uncomfortable using it, especially in front of a native speaker.
"That's her cousin, Prince Renee," Effie, who happened to pass by with a pitcher of lemonade, whispered. "Isn't he awfully good-looking? Too bad he doesn't like to travel abroad as much as Prince Felipe."
Elaine darted a glance at Renee. She had heard of him, but never actually saw him during her few visits to Tintagel. Nor did she hear of him coming to Riviera until now. Compared with Felipe, who was chubby and rosy-faced, he certainly appeared more attractive to the opposite sex, with his pronounced cheekbones, fine nose and narrow jaw. But when he turned slightly for a brief second and caught Elaine's gaze, his smile did not appeal to her. It was a slow, curling smile that did not reach his eyes. And his eyes--of an indigo blue that reminded her of deep waters--seemed immeasurable in depth. Just a mere glance, and she instinctively felt that he couldn't be as friendly to her the way Felipe had been.
"Your Highness."
"Princess Elaine!"
"May I intrude on your solitude?"
Elaine groaned. More young men had arrived, every one of them eager to gain her attention.
If only she had her flying machine with her. She seriously needed to escape..
Later that evening, Elaine yawned and stretched in front of the fireplace. She stripped off her socks and wiggled her toes, enjoying the warmth emanating from the flames.
A soft clink of china sounded as Winifred set a tray of hot tea on the table. Elaine sniffed and stretched out a hand.
"Is that my favorite black currant tea with cream? Oh Winnie, what am I to do without you?"
"It must have been an exhausting day," Winifred said soothingly. "I heard that the number of young men seeking your attention today could populate a city."
Elaine grimaced. Part of her was flattered, but since she was used to have people fawn over her beauty, she still genuinely regarded the attention a nuisance. She liked to be admired, but not by strangers.
"Well, Her Highness is sixteen already! And she's the most beautiful girl in the world!" Effie said excitedly. "Of course those men would be falling over their feet to woo her! Have you met someone you might take a fancy to?"
"No," Elaine said immediately, but rested her face between her palms, lest a telltale blush give her away. If Effie knew how she felt towards Andre, she might as well throw herself into the lake. "No. I don't think they'd look at me twice if I weren't Riviera's princess." Even though she had been accepted into the University, passed the exams with flying colors, and her peers and instructors had admitted that she was intelligent enough for academic studies, most people still hadn't seen past her face. They valued her beauty more than her work.
"While it is understandable that you have no wish for a romantic engagement," Winifred began in a no-nonsense tone, "you should be prepared to encounter quite a few proposals."
Just what Valeria had warned.
Could she tell those suitors that she had no interest in marrying? No, that was too abrupt, too absolute. She had to come up with a more diplomatic excuse. Could she proclaim she already found someone? Maybe she could persuade Andre to pose as her lover. No, it wouldn't work. No one would take Andre seriously, considering his humble origins and mixed heritage; this courting business wasn't the same as asking him help her with Tintagelese lessons, and most importantly, what if he refused? She couldn't bear the thought of him saying, in that infuriatingly respectful tone, "my deepest apologies, princess, but I am sure you can find another man who's already devoted to you, who will serve you better for a purpose like this." She would never, ever, get over the humiliation.
"Little princess! There's another delivery for you."
Effie appeared, bearing a huge bouquet of roses, poppies, lavender and star flowers.
Elaine looked around, rather irritated. She was doing calculations in front of her mirror while Winifred dressed her hair. It was the only way she could steal some time to work on her project. Since the days following the coronation, she was required to attend all the events and festivities that followed, from parties to hunting games.
Annoyed as she was, this time she couldn't help giggling. There were so many flowers that all she saw were Effie's legs teetering on the floor.
"Effie, put the flowers on the ground," she said. "Sit down and have some water. The flowers look like they weigh twenty pounds."
Effie complied. She extracted a gilt-edged card from the bouquet and handed it to Elaine.
"Lord Adrian, your most devoted admirer," Winifred read. "For Princess Elaine, the loveliest rose in Riviera."
"Who's Adrian?"
"The eldest son of the Duke of Westfield," Effie reported. "The duke owns three townhouses, two country estates, five hundred acres of land, a hundred horses and has an annual income of fifty thousand pounds."
Elaine sneezed. "Take them away! I'm allergic to flowers!"
"But it's such a beautiful bouquet," Effie protested.
"You can have them," Elaine waved a hand at her maid. "Put them in your room and say you have an admirer."
The princess turned back to her project with a groan. The coronation was over, but the celebrations lasted well over a week. She would have enjoyed the events, were it not for her flying machine, which still wasn't ready for the Exhibition. And the suitors. Since she appeared in the ceremony all dressed up befitting a princess, instead of her usual sloppiness, she had apparently caused a sensation.
"Marianne told me that Lord Derby dropped his pocket watch when you appeared," Effie said. "It cracked all over! He had to get a new one."
"Are pocket watches so fragile these days?" Elaine chewed on her bottom lip. "We must find a way to make them more sustainable. Or maybe we can attach the chain on our wrists--I know!"
"Hold still!" Winifred said, her voice stern. "You'll mess up your hair!"
Elaine sat down, but she kept talking. "How about we wear the watch on the wrist instead, like a bracelet, since the chain already shares the same handiwork of a bracelet anyway? Wouldn't that be convenient, that you can tell the time without even having to fish out the watch from your pocket?"
"I'm not sure," Winifred said. "Seems kind of odd to put that on your wrist."
"I think it sounds fun!" Effie said. "But I don't think I'd need one. The bell tower is good enough for me."
Another knock
on the door. Effie hurried to open the door.
"A present for the princess!" From the reflection in her mirror, Elaine was horrified to see that it was yet another enormous bouquet of flowers.
"A-choo!" Elaine pulled out her handkerchief. "Send a notice right away: no more flowers will be accepted. Wait, make that no more presents will be accepted. Unless it's a solution for defying gravity."
CHAPTER TWENTY
The only event Elaine looked forward to was the Academy tournament. Andre was planning to graduate this year, and if he passed the ordeals (archery, jousting, dueling), he would receive his shield and be proclaimed a knight. A knight recognized by the Royal Rivieran Academy of Fighting Arts was highly regarded everywhere.
She'd be able to see him compete and maybe even have the chance to congratulate him afterwards. For she knew he would succeed.
"Do you want to put this on?" Effie ventured. She held out a heavy necklace of silver beads; it was so long that it fell to the waist in a shimmering mist. "It might be a bit sophisticated–you may want to wait until you're twenty–but I've heard it's very popular at court these days.
Elaine fingered the beads. They would be heavy around her neck, but she wouldn't mind if they made her look more mature. Perhaps this would allow a certain person see her as a grownup, not a child.
"Fasten it around my neck, please."
It was a rare occasion that the princess chose to go slowly down the stairs, taking great care not to damage her gown or hair. She twisted her fingers together, her heart beating fast. Excited to watch Andre dominate the tournament (he will!), yet nervous about her appearance. She touched the crimson ribbons wound over her sleeves. Would he ask for one of her ribbons to wear as a flag of honor in the competition?
She managed to reach the arena unscathed by sneaking in through a side entrance that few people knew about. Considering the number of gifts and bouquets she received after the coronation, that was no small achievement. James would be proud though Ralph would be displeased.
The audience stand was even more crowded than when she last attended with James, for many foreign guests who attended the coronation were also here to see the tournament. Scanning the crowds, she spotted Bran and his friend, Arnold, sitting high up in the stands. Elaine climbed (as nimbly as she could in her gown) towards them and waved. Bran looked surprised but moved over to make room for her.
"I thought you'd use the opportunity to hide in your den," he said. "Isn't today the first day your presence isn't required since the coronation?"
"Shouldn't you be seated with the king and queen?" Arnold added.
"I compromised." Elaine sat down gingerly, careful not to rumple her gown. "Ralph wouldn't be happy if I didn't show up for a huge event, but I've no intention sitting down there–" she gestured towards the first row. "I've had enough attention these days."
"But you dressed up," Bran said, looking suspiciously at her silver necklace.
"Effie insisted."
"I thought you were the one who gave orders."
"Not always." She had to change the subject. "Look, is that Marcella in the audience? I'm surprised that she's the only Tintagel representative."
"I heard from the Tintagel ambassador that Felipe was recently engaged to an Amarantan girl and didn't have enough time to travel here," Arnold said. "As for the empress, it seems that she was feeling under the weather these days. Otherwise, she couldn't have missed the coronation."
"Strange," Bran said. "She isn't that old. She seemed to be in excellent health last time I saw her."
"Well, that was several years ago." Arnold shrugged. "I don't know, it's probably the change in weather. Sometimes the climate can be pretty finicky, you know? My mother used to get allergic when it's spring."
A horn blared. One by one, the warriors-to-be marched into the arena.
When Andre appeared, Elaine felt like a slab of ice cream in the sun. He was so strong, so tall, yet possessed none of a warrior's belligerence or aggressiveness. He stood as though he were the center of a cyclone--serene and silent. He looked up, as though he was searching for someone. His gaze met hers. For a split second, she thought his expression softened--was that a smile blossoming from the corners of his lips?
Elaine leaned slightly forward, hoping for the best. Maybe he was looking for her after all.
But just then--
"Princess!"
"Oh bother," Elaine muttered. Owen Greenwood, dressed in brilliant green, was waving his arms, his expression expectant.
She really, really didn't want to acknowledge his presence, but she couldn't pretend she was blind, so she slowly raised her hand.
Big mistake.
Owen was so buoyed that he actually raced over the field and started climbing the bleachers.
"Oh no!" Elaine moaned. "Is there a place to hide? I don't want him coming up and..."
Too late.
"Princess Elaine!" Owen's face flushed and excited. "May I say that today you look so, so–" he furrowed his brow as though desperately seeking the right words to say, though all he finally managed to say was, "beautiful. Very, very beautiful. Please, if you can allow me wear the ribbon you have on your elbow, I can die content."
Elaine was mortified. Oh, why had she brought that ribbon with her? What had she been thinking? But then, she was hoping that someone else would ask her for the ribbon. But what could she do? She couldn't tell him that she was saving her ribbon for someone else, that she didn't even have the heart to give him a token.
"Um..." Elaine ripped off the ribbon, trying not to appear reluctant. "Here."
Owen was positively delighted. "My lady! My princess! Thank you, thank you!" He reached out, as though wanting to kiss her hand, but this time Elaine drew the line.
"You'd better hurry," she said. "The tournament will be starting soon."
A look of alarm passed Owen's face. "Then I must take my leave. Till later, my fair princess."
Elaine sank in her seat, burying her face in her hands.
"He's completely besotted with you," Bran said dryly. "You'd better watch out, cousin. Next time you see him, he'll be proposing."
Elaine knotted her hands together and sighed. If only she could invent some shield that could repel ardent admirers.
The tournament began. The warriors would be tested in a series of sporting events–running, horseback riding, fencing and so on. There was a minimum requirement for those who were allowed to get their shield. Moreover, the judges would decide on the warrior who demonstrated exceptional skill in all events and award him the Best Fighter of the Academy. Lady Matilda had won the Best Fighter title–when she had only been at the Academy for three years.
At the judges' table sat Darwar, Lady Matilda, Princess Arianna, and a few other warriors that Elaine wasn't sure of their names. James wasn't to be found; Elaine supposed that he was at the menagerie. Just like him; he'd only attend if Ari was competing. But then, didn't she also dress up, hoping to impress a certain warrior with violet eyes?
Darwar stood up. He indicated that the warriors-to-be form in a line and then raised his horn.
The sound of the horn blared, and they were off. Each person was to run ten laps around the field while carrying a sack of sand. In the past, they used to carry flour, but then the kitchens complained of the waste of good flour when the sacks burst open.
Andre finished first. In the beginning, he stayed in the middle, but after seven laps, he gradually began to catch up. In the last lap, he managed to keep a long distance between himself and the person in second.
Elaine couldn't keep her eyes off him. She couldn't see his face clearly, but she could picture him wearing his steadfast expression. Usually, she felt like sleeping through these events, since there wasn't anyone she wanted to cheer for, but this time was different. She rocked on her heels, bit her nails and held her breath until Andre emerged from each event victorious.
And he put up a magnificent performance. His fencing was so graceful and swift that it
almost seemed as if he had choreographed his moves, his horseback riding a fast and furious race to behold, his archery performance saw every arrow hit the target. No one could doubt Empress Salome's decision to send Andre to the Academy. Naturally talented for athletic activities and with the amount of practice he put in, the results were spectacular.
The last competition was jousting. The warriors mounted their horses, donned gleaming helmets and grasped lances which seemed taller than Elaine herself. Gasps and shouts came from the audience. Although the rules were adjusted--you were proclaimed the winner once you knocked off your opponent's helmet, rather than taking the head off--it was still daunting to see the warriors slash, stab and strike with those dreadfully long lances.
Something struck Elaine as abnormal. Those pinging noises when lance met armor--sounded much different from the dull thuds she used to hear. Then there were the swift, fluid movements of the warriors as they charged and battled. She barely attended any fighting events, but the last time she witnessed Andre practicing his jousting, he did not move as fast as he did now. She squinted. The armor they wore looked darker, smoother and appeared to be made from a material lighter than the heavy steel plates and gauntlets.
"What is the stuff they're wearing? Their armor looks new."
"Didn't you hear?" Arnold said, looking astonished. "It's titanium. A new kind of metal our chemistry lab discovered. They had to create an alloy of titanium with aluminum and nickel, but it's sturdier and much lighter than the old plate armor they used."
Elaine grasped his wrist. "Say that again. This stuff is called titan–"
"Titanium," Bran supplied. "Going to use it on one of your inventions?"
A dazzling vision sprang into her mind. This is what she needed for her flying machine. A new, lighter material that could sustain the compressed gas in the cylinder and boost the person into air.
"Elaine? Elaine?"
"Cousin! The last pair standing are going to start battle!"
"Oh!" Elaine rubbed her temples and sat up straight. Pushing back the thoughts of titanium cylinders from her mind, she focused on the two warriors in the open field. Andre was one of them. He had taken off his helmet for a few minutes and accepted a cool drink from one of the pages. He downed the entire goblet and swiped sweat from his forehead.