The Princess

by Elizabeth Elliott

  I opened my mouth to argue, but then remembered I had to obey him here. After I did as he requested, I had to admit that being held by him, surrounded by his heat and strength, felt right.

  “I knew they would pass.”

  “The panic spells?” I asked.

  I felt him nod, even as his arms tightened, surrounding me in his strength and warmth. “It shows that you trust me. In your heart.”

  I smiled and burrowed deeper into his hold. He was right.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Diplomacy

  It took three days for the Rheinbaden envoys to arrive in London, along with a summons from my father to meet him at the Tower the next day. We had returned from another shopping expedition less than an hour ago, and I was in the solar with Faulke’s girls—my girls—reading aloud to them from Aesop’s Fables. Lucy was already asleep on my shoulder. Jane played quietly near the fireplace with Mistress Buttons and her new friend, Princess Peacock. Claire sat like a proper lady behind an oversized embroidery hoop, purchased just that day with a myriad of other baubles. Avalene sat beside her, showing the girl an intricate pattern and the proper way to accomplish it in floss. Hilda and Blanche had their heads together, gossiping about something salacious. Richard and Gretchen made cow eyes at each other while he helped her rearrange a box of threads.

  Faulke had found a horse market on our expedition, and had returned there with two of his men to inquire about additional mounts for our journey to Wales, so it was left to me to read and answer my father’s message. It was short and to the point:

  Count Otto has arrived. Present yourselves at my chambers in the Tower at Sext tomorrow.

  I was almost glad the meeting with Count Otto was at hand. The hours I had spent speculating over the fate of my people had driven me half mad. Tomorrow we would have the answers.

  I nodded to Lucy’s maid to take the sleeping toddler, then turned to Hilda, speaking quietly to her in German. “Would you lay out the garments and jewels I wore to meet with my father?”

  My father had already approved of the outfit. I wanted him to know I valued his opinion.

  Jane and Claire stayed with us for the rest of the afternoon, and I had my first taste of what daily life would be like with my new family. They clearly adored their father, and I think they were starting to like me, too. I was happy in their company. It was a strange emotion, happiness. It had eluded me for so many years that I was afraid to put too much stock in it. There were many forces working against us. What made me even more afraid was my decision to trust that any of this would last.

  * * *

  —

  THE NEXT DAY was a blur of preparations, and all too soon we found ourselves standing uncomfortably in the small chamber where my father held more intimate audiences that were not open to all of the court. Mordecai had arranged us like dolls around the dais where my father’s empty chair was placed. The dais ensured that he would tower over us all, even when seated.

  Even so, I stood directly to my father’s right. Faulke stood behind me, with Richard next to him. Gretchen and Hilda stood a little farther back. Crispin was on the other side of the dais, and then Gerhardt, Walter, and Mordecai. A dozen of the king’s guards lined the wall behind us all.

  “Small” was a relative term, when it applied to a king. The small chamber was twice as large as my solar. Each wall was covered from floor to ceiling with tapestries that formed the entire scene of a hunt within a dark forest. If there were any windows in the chamber, the tapestries covered them completely. Tall candelabras were the only source of light, and scores of beeswax candles lit even the corners of the room.

  A knock was followed by a shifting in the tapestries as another royal guard appeared, pulled aside the tapestries to reveal a previously unseen door, and then allowed a half dozen men to enter. My gaze went to Count Otto, and I found him staring back at me. He looked slightly surprised, as if he had found me greatly changed. Regardless, he looked much the same.

  Otto was a burly man, with hair so blond that he appeared to have no eyebrows or lashes, which made his ice-blue eyes even more startling. Leopold also had his father’s eyes, but darker blond hair and a still slender build. His mouth curved into a smirk when I looked at him, so I made certain to keep my gaze moving. Maria’s son stood behind them, the image of his father, down to the look of disgust he gave me.

  I made a quicker inventory of the other four men and found them little changed from when I had known them at Rheinbaden. All of the envoys wore their finest court clothing in the colors of their houses: blues and reds and golds. Only young Hartman wore the pink and white colors of Rheinbaden’s royal family. I wondered if that had been Otto’s idea, or Leopold’s.

  “I had hoped—” Otto began.

  “Count Otto, you will forgive us,” Mordecai interrupted, all smiles and kindness. “The king is delayed on an urgent matter. You should have been told that His Highness does not allow his subjects to speak in his audience chamber until he is present, which I’m certain will be any moment. Our apologies if you were not given that information.”

  Otto looked disgruntled, but he pressed his lips together. I could tell from his expression that he’d been told of that quirk of my father’s, but had somehow thought the rule did not apply to him. Actually, it didn’t; he could speak as much as he wanted. We just wouldn’t respond. And as far as I knew, the king’s only pressing business was his midday meal.

  The moments that Mordecai had optimistically suggested dragged on until I could see a noticeable difference in the height of the candles.

  Those who knew the king were accustomed to silently waiting long, uncomfortable hours for an audience. It put some on edge, built up their dread or anticipation of the actual meeting as their nerves began to prey upon them. People unaccustomed to audiences with the king would often become agitated and out of sorts, even ill-tempered. You did not want to be any of those things in my father’s presence, which was the entire reason he did it.

  The tactic seemed to be working especially well on the Rheinbaden envoys. These were men bred on order and efficiency. They began to murmur among themselves. I could almost feel their nerves begin to fray. Even Gerhardt shifted restlessly.

  Knowing Leopold would only smirk and preen if I looked at him, I kept my gaze on Otto, making certain he saw me staring at him every time he glanced in my direction. I hoped it unnerved him.

  The king finally arrived with his knights, three fanned out on each side of his chair, and all stood a pace behind us. Mordecai made the formal introductions, and there was no surprise on any of the Rheinbaden envoy’s faces when he listed Faulke’s new titles and my own as his countess. He left out any reference to my former titles in Rheinbaden. I was Faulke’s wife now. Rheinbaden was in my past.

  Their faces remained carefully blank, so either they had been busy gathering the most recent information about me, or they were all good at concealing their reactions. Otto stepped forward and bowed low to the king.

  “Greetings, Your Royal Highness,” he began. “My esteemed sovereign, King Albert, sends his warm regards to his father’s dear friend and our faithful ally to the west, and I bring word of our good king’s intentions to continue that friendship well into the future.”

  Otto waited for some reaction from my father, and shifted nervously when he got none.

  “It was with heavy hearts that we sent news ahead of great King Rudolph’s passing,” he went on. “King Albert insisted that I appear in person to our good English friends, and to our former princess, whom he was certain would be distressed by the passing of the man she has regarded as a father for so many years, claimed so soon after the passing of her husband. King Albert bid me offer his condolences, and confirm that Princess Isabel has everything she needs to make tolerable the transition to her new life in England.”

  His words skated very close to marginali
zing my own father’s place in my life, which, true or not, was hardly diplomatic. My fingers traced the outline of a castle on my mother’s belt and I began to relax.

  “I assume you were distressed by the news of King Rudolph’s passing,” my father said to me, “but you seem to have your grief in hand. Tell me, Daughter, is there anything I have not provided that would make your life in England more tolerable?”

  I watched Otto press his lips together, too late, as he realized the implications of his words and their insult.

  “King Rudolph was a beloved king in Rheinbaden, and I mourn his passing. I will always have warm memories of my time in his lands,” I said. “But there are few women who would not envy my new life in England, Father. I need nothing more.”

  That was a lie. What more I wanted was to never see Count Otto and his entourage again in my lifetime.

  “King Albert will be comforted to know his brother’s widow is in good hands,” Otto said, his gaze flicking over my shoulder in Faulke’s direction.

  It was a sly insult. I was now Faulke’s wife, and should no longer be referred to as Hartman’s widow. What did he hope to gain by antagonizing Faulke?

  “What other news from Rheinbaden?” Edward asked.

  Otto visibly relaxed, and I knew this part of his speech he had practiced well. “King Albert would like to renew the close ties between our two kingdoms. His heir, Prince Frederick, is a healthy boy of twelve years, the very image of my nephew here, young Hartman.

  “Your youngest daughter, Princess Elizabeth, is of a like age,” Otto continued. He spread his hands, as if in apology. “Although Princess Isabel’s union with Prince Hartman did not prove as long and fruitful as we had all hoped, King Albert feels certain a marriage between Princess Elizabeth and Prince Frederick will result in a more favorable outcome.”

  I looked at Young Hartman. Perhaps the boy was not brought here as part of some blackmail plot after all. Still, a lump of dread formed in my throat as I realized my father might actually consider the match. King Edward’s disputes with the French king were ongoing, so an alliance with Rheinbaden on France’s eastern border would still make sense. The crimes Leopold’s men had committed would not stand in his way, if it meant he could keep the French forces divided.

  “King Albert offers the same terms as the previous union of our kingdoms, made under his father’s rule,” Otto said, looking confident again.

  I glanced at my father to gauge his reaction, but his face remained impassive. He had been at war with someone the whole of my life. The war in Wales was done for now with the Welsh subdued, but now he had to deal with his own marcher barons’ demands and threats of uprisings. The war on the Scottish border continued, as did the war with the French over his ancestral lands in Normandy. His resources were thin. An influx of Rheinbaden gold and the strength of their army on the eastern border of France would surely tempt him.

  “I will need to give the matter of a betrothal more thought,” Edward said. “Is there anything else?”

  “Aye, Your Highness.” Otto cleared his throat and tugged at his collar, clearly uncomfortable. “If I found Princess Isabel in good health and company, King Albert decreed that her people return with us to Rheinbaden. Times are uncertain in the Germanic kingdoms. The king will have need of his soldiers in the months and years that lie ahead.”

  Silence greeted that announcement.

  My gaze went to Leopold. I wanted to slap the smirk off his face. His father looked just as satisfied with himself. I assumed that this was part of their revenge upon me, my punishment for failing to allow Leopold’s men to rape me, and then let myself be executed for adultery.

  “Of course, we would be willing to allow our people in England to attend Princess Elizabeth in her household, should she become betrothed to our prince,” Otto continued, his expression sly now. “They were, after all, intended to serve the Crown Princess of Rheinbaden rather than the dowager, and Princess Elizabeth will likely have questions about her new homeland that Princess Isabel’s servants can answer.”

  The knife of dread went a little deeper into my heart. Otto’s arguments were sound, and I had not considered the lure of a new alliance between our countries. My people could be lost to me through my sister.

  “Sire, if I may?” Faulke asked. At the king’s nod he continued. “My wife has grown attached to her people, and they wish to remain at her side. Isabel was very young when she went to Rheinbaden. Princess Elizabeth is old enough to have her own staff, servants that I am sure she would wish to accompany her to Rheinbaden, should a betrothal be forthcoming. Is Rheinbaden so poor that they cannot provide servants for Princess Elizabeth without taking them from my wife? Or man their garrisons without the handful of soldiers and knights who have sworn themselves to her service?”

  My father waved his hand in Count Otto’s direction. “Well? Is this the sort of penury Princess Isabel was subjected to in Rheinbaden? Should I expect more of the same if I send Princess Elizabeth to your court?”

  “Nay, of course not, Your Highness.” Otto did an admirable job of backtracking. “King Albert simply thought that Princess Isabel might no longer appreciate the reminders of her life in Rheinbaden. He made the offer as a courtesy, nothing more. If the princess wishes to keep our people in England, King Albert has no objection.”

  My entire being felt lit from the inside out. I wanted to kiss Faulke right there in front of everyone. I would thank him in other ways when we were alone tonight.

  My father cleared his throat, interrupting some very lewd thoughts, and I tried not to look as guilty as I felt. “Do you wish your people to return to Rheinbaden?”

  “No, Father.”

  “Then ’tis settled. Isabel’s people will remain in England. You have given me much more to reflect upon regarding Elizabeth.” My father rose to his feet, and everyone in the room stood a little straighter. “I will need at least a night to give the matter its proper consideration. In the meanwhile, I bid you and your attendants my leave to enjoy the pleasures of the city.”

  Otto’s smile was near beatific. He was almost as certain as I was that my sister would return to Rheinbaden with them. Everyone was happy.

  “Sire, there is that one other matter,” Mordecai reminded my father.

  “Ah, yes,” Edward said as he settled back into his chair. Mordecai stepped up to the dais to whisper something in the king’s ear. Edward nodded several times, and then waved him away. He fixed his gaze on Otto. “I have been made aware of a disturbing incident that took place when your son and his knights were granted the hospitality of Grunental Castle when my daughter was in residence there.”

  “The incident was several years ago,” Otto said smoothly, obviously prepared to address the issue. “The men involved were new to my son’s service and their true natures were unknown until then. They are dead now, slain by the princess’s own knights. We have paid the weregild for her knight’s death. King Rudolph and Prince Hartman both accepted our apologies.”

  “True,” Edward said, his gaze narrowing on Leopold, “but no apologies or explanations were made to me. Furthermore, there were rumors that followed the incident that could have proved dangerous to my daughter, rumors caused by the actions of your son’s knights. Indeed, the actions of these knights could have resulted in my daughter’s death, had she been less vigilant of her reputation. When a lord is given guest rights within a keep, he is held responsible for the actions of anyone in his company, most especially when those actions threaten the life and safety of their future queen. Your son should have been drawn and quartered to make an example of him, and to ensure that none others made such a poor choice of companions when they visited your crown princess and a daughter of England.”

  “My son was forgiven by our king and crown prince,” Otto said again. “Our laws are different in Rheinbaden, and the matter is settled.”

  �
��Ah, but we are not in Rheinbaden, are we?” Edward said, a new slyness in his tone.

  “We are ambassadors,” Otto sputtered, “representatives of King Albert.”

  “You are King Albert’s representative, Count Otto, not your attendants.” Edward stroked his beard. “Your king asks me to send another royal princess to Rheinbaden, when crimes against the first daughter I entrusted to your king’s care go unpunished. On the other hand, you have delivered the criminal to our shores and he stands before me. It would seem that King Albert has made it possible for me to sit in judgment of the crimes against my daughter after all, whether by accident or intent.”

  There was stunned silence as Otto gaped at the king, his mouth working ineffectually, as if he were a beached fish.

  “Leopold was forgiven,” Otto insisted, “and you have no authority over my son!”

  Edward’s voice was silky smooth. “Do I not?”

  Otto retreated a step. All of the Rheinbaden men eyed my father’s knights, who were well armed. Faulke took a step forward, positioning himself to protect me. Count Otto’s unarmed men moved closer together.

  “Your Highness,” Otto tried again, this time in a subservient voice. “We travel under the protection of our sovereign’s flag. The incident that you speak of happened years ago. If you or Princess Isabel hold some ill will toward my son over the affair, I was not made aware of it. I will be happy to offer reparations to make this right, sire.”

  My opinion of his diplomatic skills fell even lower. Really, what had Albert been thinking to send Otto here? I had learned everything I could about my father before I returned to England. Otto had obviously not done the same. He had just left himself vulnerable to any sort of vengeance that King Edward decided was appropriate. And he was about to learn exactly why everyone tread carefully around my father.

  “Perhaps we could temper our justice in this case,” Edward mused, “given the length of time that has elapsed since the crime took place, and the strain your son’s execution might place on our negotiations.”