Pigsty Princess

by Nancy S. Brandt

  She glanced at Orlando then back at her bag, uncertainty evident on her face.

  “We didn’t take anything.” He picked up the bag and handed it to her. “It is interesting that someone like you, the King’s daughter, would be traveling with so much gold and jewelry and so little clothing. Also, seems to me there should be a guard or two with you. Makes one wonder.”

  She clutched the valise to her. “Nothing to wonder about. I told you. I didn’t know how long I would be traveling, and I thought I might need money for lodging and such.”

  “Makes sense.” This from Traren again. “Never know these things. Still, though, wouldn’t think your daddy would let you travel these dangerous roads alone.”

  “It’s also strange you don’t know where you’re going.” Orlando crossed his arms over his chest. “Must be an interesting adventure, just taking off from the palace with no clear destination in mind. One might think you were running away.”

  “One would be well served to mind one’s own business.” She glared at him.

  “Indeed.” He spoke to his friends. “I think we’ve concluded our business for this morning. I’ll see you gentlemen later at the tavern?”

  “Sure, Lando,” Hamneth said, standing. He nodded to the Progenna, and the blush returned. Orlando scowled again. Crazy old man.

  “Don’t forget,” Traren said. “We still have…plans to discuss.” He glanced at the valise in Mariana’s hands.

  “I know.” Orlando nudged his friend toward the door. “Don’t you have some cows to tend?”

  Traren nodded. “Cows. Right.” He shook his head and left the cottage.

  “I have some chores myself,” Orlando told her when the men had gone. “There’s some cold salt pork and cheese in the storage bin under the floor. Bread is in the box beside the washtub, and the water in the green pitcher is for drinking.”

  He walked to the door. “Considering how easily we recognized you, you won’t get far before someone else does. Maybe you’ll be lucky, and it’ll be one of the King’s Guard, and they’ll just take you home. On the other hand, I hear there are terrible bandits around, and you’re carrying a bit of gold.” He let her think about this a moment.

  When she didn’t respond right away, he continued, “There are also those men who might be more interested in what’s under your dress than what’s in the bag.”

  Now she paled. “I suppose I didn’t think this out completely when I left the palace.”

  “You’re safe here, Progenna.” He took a step toward her. “My friends and I will keep your presence a secret if you wish, and you’re welcome to stay until your ankle is fully healed. Just think about it.”

  He went outside, leaving her standing in the middle of the room, the valise still clutched to her chest.

  ****

  Mariana waited until he closed the door behind him, and then she sat on the floor of the cottage and opened the valise.

  He had spoken the truth. Everything was just as she’d left it. She breathed a sigh of relief and contemplated the cottage. It was so small, it could have fit easily in her bedroom.

  Was it possible he kept his food under the floor? There was a handle on a cut-out section of floor in the corner. She opened it and saw an assortment of foodstuffs, much of which she didn’t recognize.

  She pulled out a small wedge of cheese and a piece of some kind of meat, assuming it was the pork he mentioned. Her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten much of her dinner last night, as she was trying to get ready to leave the palace.

  Sitting at the table, she unwrapped the cheese. Even with only thin gloves on her hands, the task was awkward. Biting her lip and glancing out the window to see if he were headed back toward the house, she uncovered her hands, picked up the sharp knife that lay nearby, and used it to cut herself a piece.

  Cutting the salt pork was a little harder. She wondered how people did this every day. While a few times she’d wandered into the palace kitchen, she’d never paid enough attention to understand how the food was prepared. All she knew was deliveries were made, and sometime later, delicious dishes arrived at the dining room table.

  The cheese and meat Orlando had left for her was filling but certainly not up to the quality she was used to in the palace. With a sigh, she rewrapped the food and put it away. Perhaps she would get used to eating this way.

  She washed her hands. Her host hadn’t returned, so she went outside to find him.

  He was behind the cottage, feeding more pigs than she’d ever seen in one place. Of course, she had never actually seen a pig up close, so she stayed some distance from the edge of the pen, which covered more area than the cottage itself.

  “Hello, Princess. Did you have breakfast?” He set the bucket he was holding on the ground and wiped his hands on his pants. Then he walked toward her.

  “Please don’t call me Princess. Thank you for the food.” She glanced at the animals. “Are they dangerous?”

  He laughed. “Only if you’re a bucket of slop. I think you’re safe.”

  “They don’t smell as bad as I would have thought.”

  He shrugged. “You just have to know how to take care of them. My mother’s family has been raising pigs around here for generations, so I learned early how to keep the smell down if I wanted to stay friends with my neighbors.”

  After a moment of silence passed, she said, “Why haven’t you alerted the soldiers I’m here? I know they patrol this village.” She glanced over her shoulder, half expecting her father to come around the corner of the cottage any moment. “Why take the risk of letting me stay?”

  “You were injured, Progenna, and for some reason, you don’t seem too eager to return to the palace right now. I don’t see why I should be the one to send you back.”

  “There might be a reward.”

  He grinned at her. “Are you trying to convince me to turn you in?”

  “I…” Suddenly, Mariana didn’t know why she was arguing against her own case. “Thank you.” She scowled. “I guess I’m doing a lot of that. Thanking you.”

  “No need.” He shrugged. “Your father and I don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things, so I pretty much assumed you have a good reason to be running away from home. From him.” He tilted his head to one side. “You are running away from home, right?”

  She nodded and sighed. “I didn’t get very far.”

  “Far enough. You’re about as far from palace life here as you can get.” He motioned toward the pigs. “Not exactly fawning courtiers or ambitious suitors, are they?”

  She giggled. “That’s true.” Then she glanced at the pigs again. “Actually, though, there have been some courtiers they resemble.”

  He shook his head. “You’re not what I expected.”

  “What did you expect? A spoiled child?”

  “You got me there. I did think you’d be complaining about the lack of servants or velvet curtains or something.”

  “It would be rude to complain about how someone else chooses to live,” Mariana said. “Mother raised us to be polite. She said everything we say and do reflects on the throne and the kingdom. We were raised to speak kindly and politely at all times.”

  He nodded. “Well, I’d say she raised you well. You certainly represent the throne better than the current resident.”

  She stiffened automatically. “That is my father, you know.” And your King, she thought. She had her own reasons for not wanting to be at home, but this man should show more respect to his sovereign.

  “I know.” He picked up a bucket and threw some kind of disgusting slop into the pig trough.

  She waited for an apology but he merely continued feeding the animals, with apparently no interest in expressing any regret for his words.

  When all the feed had been dumped, he said, “You can’t think very highly of him right now, either. I mean, you’re running away. What’s that about?”

  “It’s actually none of your business.”

  “Exactly right.�
�� The aggravating man turned his attention back to the pigs. Why did he say things like this? More importantly, why was she still standing there?

  She took a step toward the house when he spoke again. “I want to help you, Mariana.”

  His voice was so gentle, she wasn’t sure she’d actually heard him correctly. “What did you say?”

  “The pigs are fed,” he said. “Let’s go inside and talk.”

  She bit her lip. What did they have to talk about? Why didn’t she just get her things and go? The farther she got from the palace, the better chance she had to hide from her father’s soldiers.

  Her father probably already knew she was gone and would be sending guards to search for her.

  “Mariana, trust me. I can help you.” He stood next to her, and she wrinkled her nose.

  She tried to put on a polite expression, but it wasn’t easy. “Oh, dear. You smell like what I expected the pigs to smell like.”

  To her surprise, he laughed. “No doubt. I am around the little darlings so much I forget how they smell to others.” He walked to the water pump located near the corner of the pen and jerked his chin toward the house.

  “Let me just get cleaned up and I’ll join you inside.”

  Chapter Ten

  “What do you mean, she’s not there? Of course she’s there.” King Jonathan dropped his pen on top of the pile of papers he’d been reviewing before the meeting with his staff of advisors.

  “I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” Mariana’s maid said, dropping into a deep curtsey. “I took her breakfast tray up, but she’s not there.”

  “And you checked the dining room? Perhaps she decided to get over her childish snit and join her sister for the meal.”

  “No, sire. I mean, yes, sire, I did check, but no, she wasn’t there. Princess Ursula said she hadn’t seen Mariana since breakfast yesterday.”

  “You’re dismissed,” he said. “Stay in the servants’ wing until I decide whether you still have a job at the palace.”

  “Yes, sire.” The maid curtsied again, then backed out of the room, closing the door behind her.

  Jonathan yanked on the gray bell pull behind the desk. Within a few minutes, Merec, the upper butler and palace chief of the household staff, came into the library.

  “Merec, where is the Queen this morning?”

  With a bow, the butler said, “She has gone to the Royal Princess’s estate. It seems Royal Princess Liliana may be having the baby a few weeks early.”

  Jonathan’s ire at Mariana’s disappearance softened a little at this news. “I assume our Physician and Kylan have been summoned.”

  “No, sire. The Queen said it is too early for that, but she did take several of the palace maids with her in case they are needed.”

  “Fine.” The King clasped his hands together. “And the Cognate Prince? I assume he is in his residence, beside the Grand Sahdess.”

  “Yes, sire, but I do not believe their child is arriving today.”

  “Excellent. Please ask Ramone to come here, unless Victoria needs him at her side.”

  “Yes, sire.” Merec bowed and backed out of the library.

  When Jonathan was sure Merec was out of earshot, he moved a tapestry away from the wall and pulled a green velvet cord. A hidden doorway opened, revealing a set of stairs descending below the King’s office.

  He tried to concentrate on the papers until Thibault came into the office from the hidden stairs.

  “The Progenna has run away,” the King said almost before his friend closed the door. “We have to find her. The Queen is adamant Mariana wed the Sahdeer of Valentine. She has threatened to pull her support of my Abilities if the wedding doesn’t happen. I don’t need to tell you what that could mean.”

  “Sire, I understand all this as well as you do. Where do you think she might have gone?”

  “By the Sensitivities, man, I don’t know. That’s why I called you. Alexandria wants the wedding to happen by the end of the month.”

  “End of the month, sire?” Thibault raised his eyebrows. “Won’t that cause more scandal surrounding your daughter?”

  Jonathan stood and strode to the front of the desk. “Mariana’s Abilities are blossoming, and my wife doesn’t want her in the palace any longer than necessary. It can’t be helped, not if I’m going to stay on the throne. As soon as we know Mariana’s Abilities are no longer a threat, things will return to normal around here.”

  Thibault didn’t say anything for a few moments as he stared at the floor. Jonathan waited for him to come up with a plan to find Mariana.

  “Sire, it may not be my place, but perhaps it’s time for you to think about training Ramone to take the throne.”

  “I am training him. He attends nearly every meeting of my advisory council.”

  “Nearly every one?” Thibault inclined his head. “What I mean is…”

  The King interrupted him. “I know what you mean. My son will only sit on my throne after I am dead, provided he can keep it. I’ve worked hard to keep my reign, and I’m not just handing it over to an untried boy.”

  “He is your son, not just some boy.”

  “Your comments have been noted. Now I want you to find my daughter.”

  “Yes, sire. I will get my men on it right away.”

  “No,” Jonathan yelled. “I want you to handle this personally. I don’t want anyone outside the family to know she is missing.”

  “Yes, sire.” Thibault nodded. He left the office through the secret door.

  Jonathan watched him leave and wondered if he should be concerned that Thib didn’t always give him the proper respect and observe protocol as he should with the King.

  Then he shook his head. He couldn’t worry about that now. If Mariana wasn’t found soon, Alexandria wouldn’t hesitate to use the leverage she had. The Queen wasn’t one to forgive and forget, especially where the King was concerned.

  ****

  When Orlando finished cleaning himself up, he changed into some clean clothes he kept stored in the barn. In the cottage, he found Mariana sitting primly on his couch, waiting with her hands folded on her lap.

  He had to smile at the picture presented by this cute little Progenna sitting on his sofa. Even though she had to have grown up knowing she could never be Queen, she held herself as though she were presiding over a meeting of the Pir Council.

  Her young face, while not showing the signs of stress and responsibility that were evident on her mother’s, still held a calm and patient air that had to be the result of training. Adindira certainly did not radiate such serenity, even when times weren’t as hard as they were now.

  He wondered if all the King’s daughters would look so regal in such humble surroundings, but for the moment, he doubted if the others could even find themselves in such a situation.

  “So, Progenna,” he said as he sat down on a bench near the fireplace, “you want to tell me why you’re running away from the palace?”

  “Why don’t you like my father?”

  “Oh.” He straightened his back and raised his eyebrows. “I thought we were here to talk about how I can help you.”

  “First, I need to know who I’m dealing with. I’d like to know why you don’t like the King.”

  “Okay,” Orlando said. He pulled some wood from a pile near the fireplace and set to work stirring the smoldering embers into flames. “You might not like what I have to say.”

  “I’m sure whatever you think you know about the royal family is wrong, so just tell me.”

  He glanced over his shoulder at her. She had her arms crossed over her chest, clearly defensive. “Interesting, coming from you. You are running away, aren’t you?”

  “That has nothing to do with the King.”

  Orlando scowled. “Is that true? Your problems have nothing to do with King Jonathan?”

  “Let me put it this way. My reasons for running away have to do with my father and his decisions regarding me, not the way he rules Valborough.”

  �
�I see.” He went back to tending the fire. Small flames began to lick at the wood, and he set the poker back in its stand.

  He faced her. “I have no idea what Jonathan is like as a father, although I have a few thoughts on the matter. I’ve seen the Cognate Prince Ramone the few times he’s come to the village to inspect the crops.”

  “My father is a good King. He has protected the kingdom from invaders from the south on numerous occasions.”

  Orlando nodded. “I have heard tales about these ruthless invaders.” He pulled a pipe out of a stand on the mantle.

  “Do you mind if I smoke this?”

  “It is your home,” Mariana said. “It is not my place…”

  He interrupted her. “Yes. It wouldn’t do to be rude while visiting. I understand.”

  He picked up a small piece of wood about half the diameter of his thumb and stuck the end in the fire. Then he lit the tobacco he’d stuffed into the pipe. A small cloud of fragrant smoke billowed up around his face.

  “I was a soldier in your father’s troops.”

  “You look a bit young to have served your time and retired.”

  He chuckled with the pipe stem caught between his teeth. “That’s gracious of you. I wasn’t released honorably from service after a standard length of time. I was injured in the Battle of Clearlea in the west. That was four years ago.”

  She furrowed her brows. “Now I’m confused. We won that battle. My mother and father were both there, and when they returned home, Mother threw a big celebration dinner for the family in honor of the victory. I was only fifteen, not yet presented to society, but I was still allowed to attend. In fact, it was the first and only official dinner where I’ve been allowed to sit next to the King.”

  It was Orlando’s turn to scowl. “Why aren’t you allowed to sit next to the King at official dinners?”

  She waved her hand as though the question was meaningless, and he saw she was still wearing her gloves. He suppressed the urge to laugh at the thought of his sister or any of the other village women keeping their hands covered out of modesty. Doing daily chores would be quite problematic.