“Hello, your Royal Highness,” she said to the faceless wooden doll. “I’m sorry I’ve taken so long. Edmund,” she added to her little brother behind her, “can you take the bucket back to Father’s study? Oh, wait a second and I’ll give you the flask, too.”
Obediently he took the bucket from her. Beneath his curious gaze Viola uncorked the flask and contemplated its rosy contents in the light from the open window. Despite how long she had been practicing magic, she still had to steel herself before she began. In a decisive movement, she took a swig from the flask. It tasted of roses but was cloyingly sweet, as though it was on the verge of rotting. Its warmth raced down her throat and through her body. She tipped the flask and dipped index and middle finger into its contents. Then, she corked it again and gave it over into Edmund’s care.
“Hurry with that,” she said, “but be careful not to let anyone see it.”
He tucked the flask into the bucket and made his exit. Alone with the faceless doll, Viola stepped forward. “Now, your Highness,” she said, and she raised her two wet fingers, “let’s get you ready for your meeting.”
She traced the doppelganger pattern onto the face of the doll, a design memorized so long ago. While the magic seeped into the wood, Viola closed her eyes and concentrated on the figure of the Eternal Prince. “Vivito, rex aeternus,” she chanted. Then, she opened her eyes again and touched the doll in the center of its forehead. She could feel the magic flow from her fingertips into the wooden figure. Flesh blossomed against the hard surface and facial features began to take shape.
A knock at the door interrupted Viola’s observation.
“Your Royal Highness?” a voice called.
“They’re early,” Viola moaned as she scrambled to the door. Luckily she had finished the mark and incantation before their interruption, but the spell would still require a few minutes to complete itself. Not only did the body have to form, but it then had to become animate. “Put on your headdress after you’re ready,” she instructed the doppelganger, unsure whether it would be able to understand and obey at this early stage of its formation. Hoping against hope that it could, she opened the door a crack and slipped outside. Four of the palace guards waited in the entry.
“You’re early,” she said to them in exasperation. “Here I’ve been trying to coax him into a better mood, and you’re early!”
The leader was stone-faced. “I’m sorry, Miss Viola,” he said, though he didn’t appear in the least to be so, “but Lord Conrad sent us to fetch the Prince. The meeting has been moved ahead of schedule.”
“Yes, I know. I’m very sorry, Captain. I’m trying to get him ready, but he’s dragging his feet every which way. We had to interrupt his afternoon meditation, and he keeps saying that if the magistrates are going to demand his presence, they should at least consult him before changing the time of the meeting. It’s a wonder he hasn’t declared he’s not going at all.”
The captain studied her for a moment, his eyes speculative. “Then the Prince will be in attendance?”
“Oh, certainly. He doesn’t like missing two joint meetings in a row, I think. He was quite repentant after his fit of pique passed last month.”
A couple of the guards exchanged looks. The Prince had missed the last joint parliamentary meeting because Viola had been home taking care of her mother and Edmund, who were both sick with colds, and Charlie had been assigned guard duty at the palace gates. Their father’s schedule was such that he couldn’t take the time to conjure a doppelganger, and the magistrates and guards had simply been told that the Prince was in a terrible mood and not to be disturbed until it passed. Whether they had noticed that his most recent “terrible moods” always seemed to correspond to Viola’s absences she did not know, but if she had been in their position, she would have been suspicious.
“Will he require the litter today, or does he wish to walk?” the captain asked.
Viola kept her face impassive. She had been working on her doppelgangers, to be sure, but conjuring one that could walk any considerable distance on its own, and in a natural enough manner not to be spotted as a phony, was wholly beyond her skills. Charlie could do it, but Charlie wasn’t available to conjure this afternoon. He had already been assigned to stand guard at one of the meeting-room doors. “The litter, I think,” she said apologetically. “It was set out when I got here, but I’ll ask his Highness his preference. Can you wait for a moment?”
“Lord Conrad instructed us specifically not to be late.”
“Lord Conrad seems to be taking a lot of liberties with his instructions,” Viola retorted. “I will speak to the Prince now and see what he prefers.”
Before the captain could utter anything further, she opened the chamber door and slipped back inside. The doppelganger was not where she had left him.
“Oh,” she said in distress. Her eyes darted about the spacious room. As she started forward, to her immense surprise, she discovered him sitting upon the litter’s chair, fully dressed and with his headdress in place. She supposed that he had heard her speaking through the door and ascended the litter on his own. He was her doppelganger, after all, and thus compelled to obey her voice. A veil covered most of his face—and for good reason, for Viola was convinced that they had never conjured the exact same face twice—but his eyes stared back at her with a piercing intensity.
Viola’s heart dropped. “Oh no, those eyes!” she cried, and she rushed to the litter in a panic. They were the same golden eyes of the golden stranger from the well. “Why did you—never mind! There’s no time! Oh, please, let no one notice!” She had been too distracted by that insufferable man, she decided, to have let such a blunder infuse itself into a simple doppelganger spell.
She checked to make certain that all of his ceremonial clothing was on right—Charlie seemed to have dressed the doll hastily, she noticed as she smoothed his sash—and that he had all his fingers and such. Those golden eyes followed her every move in a disconcerting manner.
“You listen here,” Viola said, and she sternly shook her finger at him. “You are to behave through this meeting. Don’t make any noises or unnecessary movements. You are the Eternal Prince of Lenore, and you must act the part! You’re presiding, but it’s only in a symbolic capacity, so just sit still, listen to what the magistrates say, and nod when it’s appropriate.”
Doppelgangers were obligingly obedient when conjured properly. Viola only hoped that she had done a good enough job with this one. The few minutes before any such meeting were always nerve-wracking to her, simply because of everything that could go wrong.
The captain outside tapped impatiently against the door, and she hurried to answer. Wordlessly she allowed his entourage to enter the private chamber. The four guards marched in and bowed deeply to the Eternal Prince, who inclined his head in a regal manner. Viola was suitably impressed. The soldiers stepped forward, two on either side of the Prince, and hoisted the carriage up. Quickly Viola opened the double-door of the bed-chamber, then rushed forward to do the same at the entryway.
“His Royal Highness, the Eternal Prince of Lenore!” cried a guard waiting there, and the soldiers along the hallway beyond immediately stood at ready, one arm raised in salute to their beloved ruler.
Once the litter had been carried past the threshold, Viola skittered back to close the doors tight, then followed behind the procession at a respectful distance. The doppelganger was hers, and there was no telling how it would act if she didn’t stay nearby to keep tabs on it. If she got too far away, the doll’s enchantment would vanish altogether, she knew, and that would be disastrous to explain, though she was fairly certain Charlie would be able to think of something. He was slippery enough to cover for that sort of mishap.
The Prince was carried down the wide marble halls and a sweeping staircase (with Viola constantly terrified that he would tumble boneless from his perch, though he held it admirably enough). The parliamentary room lay beyond, and there assembled all the lords and magistrates. The
y stood at attention for the small processional, with Viola’s father at the head of the room to conduct the meeting. Charlie nodded cheerfully as Viola passed him at the door.
The four guards carried the Prince’s litter past the assembly of lords and magistrates, past the Prime Minister, to a platform that overlooked them all. Here they ceremoniously deposited the Prince so that he sat facing the entire congregation. Viola took her customary place in a nearby corner, in an unobtrusive chair kept there for her use.
“All hail the Eternal Prince of Lenore,” cried her father, and a resounding “Hail!” echoed from the ranks before him. The doppelganger inclined its head, and the lords and magistrates of the congregation took their seats.
“I now call this meeting of the Royal Parliament of Lenore to order,” the Prime Minister said. He shuffled the papers that rested atop the lectern at which he stood. “Our first item of business is—”
“A momentary question before we begin our proceedings, Prime Minister,” said a strong voice from the section of lords. Nicholas Moreland looked shocked for an instant, and Viola’s eyes trained in on the speaker. Lord Conrad was a dark-haired man with severe, hawk-like features. He was half-raised from his seat, one finger elevated to catch attention. A few of his fellows shifted uncomfortably at this disruption, as it was highly irregular to interrupt the opening of a joint meeting of Parliament. Lord Conrad had only ascended to their company a few months previous, though, and was used to the direct and stringent approach of discourse dictated by his former occupation, the military. Thus, an exception would be made in favor of his ignorance, though more than one lord determined to inform him of the faux pas at a later time.
Viola’s father regained his composure almost immediately. “The chair recognizes Lord Conrad for a preliminary question to our business,” he said with utmost efficiency. Viola had always admired her father’s ability to keep calm under disconcerting circumstances.
“I thank you for your indulgence, Prime Minister,” said Lord Conrad, and he stood to his full and domineering height in the first row. “I do not mean to be impertinent, and perhaps my inexperience betrays my judgment here, but I feel I must question the attendance of an outsider to these most noble proceedings.”
“An outsider…?” Moreland repeated in confusion. He glanced about their company for any such intruder.
Lord Conrad inclined his head in a manner that appeared arrogant rather than humble. “Again, I beg pardon for my ignorance, but I was referring to the Prime Minister’s daughter.” He gestured with one hand to where Viola sat. “It seems highly irregular to have a woman in these proceedings, especially when there is nothing on the agenda, to my knowledge, that would necessitate her presence. I think it only proper that she vacate the room before we begin our official business.”
Panic twisted through Viola as these words flowed from the lord’s mouth. She had attended a dozen or more Parliamentary meetings and her presence had never been questioned before now. Her father seemed dumbstruck by the request as well, and several members of the congregation murmured nervously.
“If there is no objection, would the captain of the guards please escort Miss Viola from the room?” Lord Conrad asked, and the curve to his lips showed a certain calculation to his request. The captain immediately stepped forward to comply, and Viola realized that he must have been confederate to Conrad’s intentions. As she stood, humiliation washed over her to be thus singled out, and a measure of fear accompanied it. She could probably maintain her doppelganger from the hallway or the next room, but any number of things could go wrong.
When she looked to her father, though, she discovered his expression to be one of helplessness. Her presence at previous meetings had passed without remark, and while her purpose, ostensibly, was as an attendant to the Prince, of course the Prince never wanted anything during the duration of the meeting. Indeed, he had always simply presided, since he was incapable of doing anything more than that.
The captain grasped her arm none too kindly to lead her from the assembly room.
“Would Lord Conrad presume to order my auspicious person from the room as well?” inquired a new voice, and the whole of the assembly froze. One might have heard a pin drop in that deathly stillness.
Viola looked aghast to the doppelganger of the Eternal Prince, from whence this query had originated. That voice, she thought with foreboding.
The Prince sat erect as usual, but his piercing gaze—those strange, golden eyes—honed in upon Lord Conrad, who looked suddenly whey-faced. The lord’s mouth opened and shut once, and the Prince turned his attention to Viola. “Be seated,” he said in iron tones that brooked no contradiction. The captain released his hold and Viola dropped back into her chair, hardly breathing as she studied the veiled creature who sat upon the dais. He had already shifted his attention to the Prime Minister and now inclined his head in a regal manner to indicate that they should continue.
Nicholas Moreland immediately returned to his notes. “Our first item of business,” he began, but the rest of his speech was drowned out of Viola’s ears. Upon his dais, the doppelganger of the Eternal Prince turned his head to meet her horrified stare. He arched one golden eyebrow, then winked at her.
And Viola knew that, somehow, it was no doppelganger at all.
Chapter 4: Viola Confronts a Charlatan
I should like to note that most of my doppelgangers are capable of speech. Some of my earlier attempts chirped like birds, and others screeched like those droll little monkeys in the menagerie. The last several I conjured could communicate as humans, but they all were high-pitched, like women. Thus, whenever I am in charge of conjuring the Eternal Prince, he is always silent.
I suppose you can imagine how my blood froze in that instant that he spoke. All I could think was that somehow, that infuriating man had replaced my doppelganger. But how? Or had he worked himself so thoroughly into my psyche back at the well that I had imprinted him upon the doll as I commanded its doppelganger to form? All this and more ran through my head during that first awful moment. Doppelgangers, however, do not speak out of turn, especially when they have been specifically instructed not to. They also do not wink of their own volition, and at their master!
That meeting seemed interminable to me. What would happen if the fraud was discovered? What if Lord Conrad had challenged the Prince’s words? But of course he wouldn’t. No one would. The entire room was in shock from hearing the Prince speak, and he spoke in such an imperious manner that none dared question him.
I had previously suspected that Lord Conrad and his son were nosing about for information on the Prince, but that encounter solidified these thoughts in my head. I believe that Lord Conrad has probably discovered some of the pieces of our long-running deception. One thing is certain: whatever he intended to accomplish by banishing me from that meeting, he never expected the Prince to speak up on my behalf.
Indeed, I never expected it myself.
“Well done, Viola,” her father whispered in her ear as she passed him to follow the Prince’s procession from the room. “Very well done, indeed.”
With some wonder, she realized that her father thought the Prince to be a doppelganger still, and her doppelganger at that. Even as she opened her mouth to correct him, though, she recalled where they were and the many eyes and ears that could witness their exchange. So, to her great shame, instead of correcting her father’s mistake, she simply bobbed her head and trotted forward to catch up to the retreating entourage.
Charles, standing guard at the door, gave her a covert thumbs-up, and her sense of foreboding sank deeper. Of all people, Charlie knew best how rudimentary her doppelgangers were, primarily because his were so superior. She had expected him at least to recognize the fraud of a fraud.
On the trek back to the Prince’s quarters, her indignation had ample time to blossom into wrath. The guards before her replaced the litter where they had first retrieved it and skittishly left the room. Viola shut the double doors behind
them and leaned heavily back upon the ornately carved wood.
The figure before her remained seated upon the litter’s chair. His golden eyes met her stare quite boldly.
“Who are you?” she asked, and her voice seemed strangled in her throat.
The eyes crinkled, and she imagined that beneath his veiled headdress he was smiling broadly. “I am the Eternal Prince of Lenore,” he said, obviously amused. “You told me so yourself.”
The words snapped any restraint she had previously held on her anger. A snarl wrenched from her throat as she stalked forward, intent upon tearing the man apart. Her fury must have ignited some sense of self-preservation, for he immediately jumped from his chair and scrambled behind it, so that an object of bulk lay between them.
“Now, now, Miss Viola,” he chided, and a genuine note of worry entered his voice, “there’s no need to get all up in arms.”
“You are not the Eternal Prince of Lenore,” she said sternly.
“Yes, well, just have the goodness to call him here, and we’ll sort out this whole business promptly, shall we?” the stranger offered.
Viola halted, and uncertainty crept into her expression.
The stranger seemed to have expected this. “Can’t do that, can you? Because there is no Eternal Prince, is there? Imagine my surprise, having traveled all this way to see him, only to discover some shoddy doppelganger in his stead.”
His words chafed against her like sandpaper. “That doesn’t give you leave to dress up and pretend to be him!” she cried hotly. “Get out of those clothes this instant!”
“Darling, I thought you would never ask,” said the man. His hands automatically moved to comply with her request.
Kingdom of Ruses Page 3